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Sarada closed the door and marched up to the window, throwing the curtain shut. She leaned against the wall, sinking down into the corner. Her fingers tangled into short hair in frustration, sinuses swelling, eyelids heating up, lips curling back against her teeth.
Tears dripped from her eyes like a leaky faucet.
She couldn't afford to be this childish. Not when Eida could see her. Part of keeping the fact that her and Sumire weren't under her spell was supposed to be hiding her feelings at all times, no matter what. But couldn't hold back.
Eida already knew... She'd known since the beginning. If she could see past events, it was easy to tell... How much she cared for him.
Moments before, she had been in the Uzumaki household, carefully running her fingers over a cracked picture frame. Himawari appeared and asked suddenly why Boruto was the one in the picture instead of Kawaki.
She struggled to explain. To choke back the emotions that she nearly let out upon the sight of little Boruto smiling without a care in the world as he sat with his family in the Seventh's lap.
Gently placing the cracked photo frame in its rightful place, she swallowed the torrent of emotions back down, and simply said, "Because Boruto is your real brother."
Himawari tilted her head. Patted Sarada's shoulder. And walked away.
By this point, everyone thought she was completely insane. No matter how much she tried to reason with them, no one believed her. It was a long battle that she fought nearly every day since he left: struggling to reverse omnipotence through blatant evidence that no one believed.
And now... All she could think of as her heels dug into the ground, clawing at her throat for air... Was the past.
"Sarada!" Boruto called her name, racing ahead of her. "Come on! Let's play!"
"...I don't wanna..."
"Shikadai isn't scary! Just come on!"
He ran back to her and tugged on her small hand, but Sarada remained glued to the spot. "I'm not leaving until papa comes back!"
"When is he gonna come back?"
"I... Dunno."
Boruto marched up to her and grabbed her wrist. "Here. I'll promise it'll be okay. Then you have to come, alright?"
"...Huh?"
Wrapping his pinky around hers, he started gently shaking it in rhythm to the rhyme in his words. "Yubikiri genman, uso tsuitara hari senbon no--masu! (Pinky promise, if I'm lying I'll swallow 1000 needles)!" With that, he let go and grabbed her hand. "Come on! Let's go!"
. . .
If only he knew how scary they'd gotten.
Sarada's face completely contorted. She curled onto her side in a ball, arms coming up to hide the tears that leaked over her nose and the ugly shape of her stretched lips. Whimpers left her throat even when she held her breath.
Cho-Cho, Mitsuki, Shikadai, Inojin... Not even Himawari was the same.
She missed everyone. The way everything used to be. And most of all... She missed him. He was alive, she was sure of it. He was coming back. But she couldn't help but worry.
This wasn't like the situation with her father. She was used to Sasuke's absence, simply looking forward to the sparce times when he would return for a day or two. Missing him, worrying about him, but knowing he was strong and safe and quite honestly prepared for the worst should it come to pass.
But Boruto was different.
She missed Boruto terribly, because Boruto was always there. He'd always been there since she was a kid. Like an annoying thorn in her side that she refused to take out. Just when she thought he wasn't paying attention, he'd say something that showed he'd been watching her carefully. He was there to cheer her up when her parents weren't. He always seemed to save her from danger on missions just before she could get hurt.
She hung out more on average with Cho-Cho... But without Boruto around, she realized just how much of her life he'd been part of.
She couldn't stomach a burger without tightness clawing up her throat and making her want to puke. She couldn't watch Shikadai and Inojin argue over those stupid game cards without thinking of his face, eye slashed and dripping with blood. It was hard for her to be around Mitsuki at all... Just because his thirst for ending Boruto's life was only second to Kawaki's.
The academy made her think of him, the Hokage's office, her own room, her balcony, the video game store, every street corner where he'd pulled some sort of prank and she was there to stop him. Even the stupid sewer grates where he hid to escape his dad. Everything was a memory. A reminder that he wasn't there. And neither was Naruto. To make matters worse, everyone else remembered all of those moments as times spent with... Kawaki.
She didn't want to think about Kawaki right now. She never wanted to think about Kawaki again. She just... She just wanted Boruto back.
Sometimes at night, she'd put her hand on her window, hoping to feel his presence, to hear his voice call her name. During the day, her eyes wandered across the blue skies, thinking of his eyes as she followed hawks in hopes that one of them would land before her. She loitered around Eida, trying to get a single snippet of information about his wellbeing or whereabouts. But she knew Shikamaru was monitoring Eida closely, and that peeking in on Boruto and her father would do them both more harm than good.
And so she suffered. She tried her best every day, knowing nothing, but doing her best to have faith. But that faith was starting to run thin. It'd been two years.
Her body started trembling, shaking, jacket rustling against the wooden floor. It was dark. But she closed her eyes anyways, trying to will the thoughts and fears to go away.
And they came to her mind despite her wishes.
What were they doing? Was he okay? Did she manage to fully convince her father, or was he like everyone else who tried to sympathize with her insanity before coming to accept her as mentally ill?
The front door of her house creaked open and clicked shut. She sucked in the snot dripping out her nose and wiped at her wet face with her palms.
"I'm home!"
It was the voice of her mother. Sarada barely managed to respond back without her voice wavering. "Welcome back." She forcibly got out one more bout of trembles. It was supposed to be good, shaking when you were having a panic attack. She read that it got the extra cortisol and tension out of your body and made you relax.
She put one palm on the ground to lift herself up. Looked at it. Quivered again. And tried, desperately, to pick up her thousand-pound bones. After managing to get one leg underneath of her, finally ready to heave herself up, his face flashed into her mind. And she lost the willpower.
Somehow, she tucked both legs underneath her chest and started shaking again. Her hands came up to cover the top of her head as if someone was trying to attack her and it was all she could do to beg for mercy, tears and snot wetting her bare knees.
Now that everyone was gone, that security blanket she'd always had was ripped away. She felt more exposed and vulnerable walking around the village than being in public in her underwear. Everyone thought she was insane. And to make matters worse, Shikamaru couldn't protect the village like Naruto and Sasuke could. If Code came... Kawaki, Eida, and Daemon were the only ones who had a chance of fighting him off. She trained as much as she could, but she couldn't use shinjutsu, or whatever it was that made all normal ninjutsu feel worthless by comparison.
Training was even more torturous. She had to be around Kawaki and Mitsuki, or train by herself. Team 10 was occupied with Himawari. Any time they took a mission away from the share house, she had to take the time to explain all of the plans, and Kawaki didn't listen to half of them. Mitsuki always followed whatever Kawaki did. And everything usually ended in Mitsuki having to pull her back from venting her frustration on whatever they were fighting, saying he knew it was frustrating that Boruto betrayed the village but she needed to keep herself in check because Kawaki was staying strong despite all that had happened to him.
Think of how hard it must have been for Kawaki, Sarada. To lose a brother. To lose both his parents. You might be able to forgive Boruto, but I'm sorry... I don't think I'll be able to.
Kawaki... Her nose crinkled into a snarl at the idea of his face. How dare he. There was nothing in this moment that would make her happier than to somehow give Kawaki payback for everything he'd done to Boruto by sending a Chidori straight into his shoulder. But every time they sparred, she had to sit down and shut her mouth. And she hated every waking second of being in his presence. Because it only made her longing for Boruto that much stronger.
Sarada tried to calm herself, clamping her mouth shut and swallowing a few times, forcibly un-creasing her eyebrows.
Boruto told her not to worry, but she couldn't help it. He told her that he'd definitely be back... And she trusted him. But it was still hard. No matter how much she hoped, no matter how much she loitered by the outskirts of the village, no matter how much she stared off into the distance on top of Hokage Rock, she hadn't caught a single glimpse of him in anything but family pictures, dreams, and nightmares. Nothing. For two whole years.
She wondered why she'd been so stupid before. He wasn't okay, and she knew it. Maybe if she'd tried to sit down and have a conversation with him instead of respecting his space, she could've been more use than pathetically standing in front of him with a kunai and trying to have a conversation while Kawaki was ready to kill her.
In that moment. If she hadn't frozen, if Boruto hadn't saved her and gotten hurt in her place, Momoshiki wouldn't have freed Kawaki. None of this would have happened. It was all her fault.
It was all her fault.
It was all her fault.
"Sarada?"
She froze, a string of mucus hanging from her nose. As collected as she could, she lifted her head, not daring to sniff in for fear her tearful state would be discovered. "...Y-Yes, mama?"
"What do you want for dinner? I was thinking about salmon... But I haven't started the rice yet. It'll be about an hour."
"...That's fine."
"...Are you alright? You sound a bit sick."
Sarada dragged herself to her feet and scrambled for a tissue, trying her best not to trip over anything with tears and smudged plastic blurring her vision. She reached out for the box, plucked a Kleenex and caught the snot just before it could drip to the floor. "Just doing some cleaning and ran into a patch of dust," she called back through a throat that felt like it was being strangled by a tiny invisible hand.
"...If you say so."
As Sakura's footsteps faded, Sarada turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Her red eyes were swollen up like balloons, mangekyo mistakenly activated. Her glasses were visibly filthy, tears and skin-prints caked on the lenses. Her neck had red scratch marks on it from clawing for air, hair tussled and messy from yanking it down over her face.
She sometimes wished she could be more like Sumire. Staying back and staying calm. Keeping her cool no matter what others said. Observing instead of letting her emotions get the better of her. It only made her tear up worse.
There was just one time where Sarada got particularly defensive about Boruto in front of Mitsuki, and Sumire tried to have a conversation about her feelings. But that wasn't something Sarada could handle. Her mind had been thrown into distracted chaos, chaos she couldn't afford. Every time Sumire asked her if she was sure she didn't have feelings, they came back up. Did she? Was she just worried about him as a childhood friend and teammate, or was it more?
It didn't matter. It couldn't, not when she wanted to become Hokage. She couldn't prioritize him above everyone else, above the village. She couldn't let her emotions get the better of her at a crucial moment. She had to keep it all buried. All that mattered was that he came back alive.
And yet she thought about Mitsuki's words, back when everything started going downhill. Accusing her of liking him. Now that she knew missing him was this painful... She couldn't help but wonder if her longing was really just for her teammate to come back. Had it been this bad when Mitsuki left for Iwagakure? She couldn't remember.
As she stood, staring at her tattered reflection in the mirror, she was able to put her shoulders back just a little bit and stand strong. No matter what her feelings were... She would always fight for his safety. She wanted to crawl out of her own skin whenever someone accused him of being Kawaki, and that would never change. That feeling of repulsion and disgust stayed this strong for two whole years. She'd fight for Boruto, just like she'd fight for any of her friends.
Once this was all resolved and things settled down, she wouldn't hold it against him if he abandoned his promise to become like his father and settled down with a wife and a family instead of protecting her. She would just... Become hokage. Like the seventh. And everyone in the village could be her... family.
Tears. Again. Wetted her stinging eyes.
Shannaro.
Why was it so painful? She couldn't bare the thought of him abandoning that stupid promise. She couldn't even bear the thought of him being away from the village, even though her father was keeping him safe. She kept fighting, thinking that if maybe she found a way to convince everyone, that he would come back. But no matter what she did, it just... Wasn't... Working. And she was so tired.
Rather than spending her time in the village, taking on this stupidly impossible task... She desperately wanted to run away and find them. To train, to be trained. To escape. Even if it cost her everything. Her status in the village, all of her hard work. She didn't care anymore.
She'd give up home cooking to eat food pills three meals every day for a year if she had to. She'd hide with them, going from town to town, wearing a hooded cloak, fighting off attackers, killing rogues if she had to. She just... Wanted to see them.
Sarada's lip quivered. She wanted to see Boruto. More than anything, she wanted to see him again. She wanted him to be there, annoying her, cracking jokes and lighting up the room.
Her limp hand clutched at her glasses, letting them fall to the floor as she flopped face first into her bed, chest heaving. She wanted to see him. Why was it so painful? She curled her fingers into her hair.
Her heart was crumpling like those stupid burger wrappers she'd thrown away so often before any of this happened. With every passing second, shivered breaths came in short gasps as she desperately tried to muffle any noise with her pillow. She let out a silent sob through her pinched throat, picking her knees up and tucking them under her chest again.
She imagined him as the last thing she saw, done in by Code, Kawaki, whoever ended up killing her... Would he come back if Konoha was under attack? She almost wished for it to happen, just in that moment. For everything to fall to chaos, to stand in the middle of it with him and Mitsuki at her side. To yell at him for being an idiot and taking so long to come back to her.
Catching her breath through the pillow, she slowly uncurled her fingers from her hair and let them fall onto the bed. Stayed with her face down until she couldn't breathe anymore. Rolled onto her side, tears dripping over the bridge of her nose and into the sheets.
She tried, she really did try. No matter what she did, she couldn't change anything, but she'd keep trying until it killed her. She had to do something. So that one day maybe... Maybe all of this could go back to normal.
. . .
CHAPTER 5 SPOILERS BELOW THIS POINT!
Sarada stood on the roof of the hokage's office, staring off into the distance as she discussed Amado with Sumire. Despite Boruto appearing in front of her a few moments before, she was still in fighting mode. Boruto came back. But he'd changed. Cold. Distant. So much like her father had been... Like he was when he fought. His voice stayed low, his gaze focused on the target and the target alone. While she was happy to see him again, it was also heartbreaking to see how much his smile had vanished.
Either way, she had to focus on the threat at hand. The villagers were being attacked... And she wasn't sure what to make of the trees. Even if she wanted to find him, the village came first. It always did. Boruto was more than capable of handling himself. She had to match his intensity without falling behind.
But it was only a matter of time until the village sent assassins after him. Amado came to the realization that his memories had been tampered with through physical evidence, despite the odds. Shikamaru now knew about this. She could convince them to hold off the attack if Boruto helped them deal with the shinju, which she knew he would. But for how long?
The topic of the conversation between her and Sumire shifted to her father. Her father who risked everything for her. Three years ago, before she knew how bad all of this really was. When she was crying that day, pleading with her father to save him... Her father didn't hesitate to believe her. How much had he loved her to risk everything for her in that moment? Going to help the one who supposedly killed his best friend? The outsider that no one trusted? The sheer faith her father placed in her never ceased to dumfound her.
And then, suddenly... As she was thinking these things... Boruto was there, standing behind her.
She froze. Her father... Whom Boruto now called Master. Teacher. Risked his life to save Boruto. And from the downtrodden look in his eyes... She could tell. He blamed himself. That's why he couldn't meet her eyes when she first saw him.
A great pain took over her chest. Suddenly, Boruto's hardened gaze softened. "It was all for you... Sarada."
Suddenly, her foot twitched. It didn't matter where they were, it didn't matter if the world was about to fall apart. That look on his face. She could tell... He'd been bearing with everything on his own for far too long. Just like her. And he was tired, even more tired than she'd ever been. Tired, and alone.
With the speed of launching a Chidori, she rushed towards him and snuck her arms under his cape, tight around his waist. "You're late," she was nearly crying from relief, from all that she'd held back for three years, finally holding him and letting him know he wasn't alone anymore. It wasn't his fault. Nothing was his fault. "Stupid Boruto."
She didn't expect a hug in return. She just wanted to hold him, just for a second. She wanted to tell him it was alright now, that he didn't have to keep shouldering it all himself.
It was then that his open arms came to rest against her back. He stepped towards her to close the distance between them, the warmth of his cheek tucking against hers as his arms tightened. "Sorry..."
Her heart skipped a beat. Hot tears stung the backs of her eyelids. His stern and deepened voice became the gentlest of whispers.
"I'm home now-ttebasa."