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"You know I'm fine, right?" Boruto commented even as he let Sarada inspect his—only slightly injured—arm.
"Do you see the way you're bleeding?" She demanded back, giving him a pointed stare when he winced. Okay, maybe it was a bit more than slightly injured. Nonetheless, there was no need for Sarada to be worried.
"I'm fin—"
"Just be quiet." She ordered, and in the end, he allowed Sarada to patch him up. "Now, don't do anything reckless." She warned as she got up, sending him one last glance before heading to clean up their arm protectors—much good that did—from their Karate practice.
He sighed, brushing himself as he got up from a bench and headed towards his friends, who gave him funny looks.
"What?" He questioned, gently poking at his arm. "Ouch." He winced.
"Don't do that." Shikadai commented, knocking away his hand from poking at his injury. "Sarada worries about you a lot, huh?"
"Yep, sounds like her." He confirmed absentmindedly and, despite Shikadai's warning, continued to prod at the injury.
"You don't think that's weird?" Inojin asks and Boruto looks up at that. His eyebrows knitted as he looked at Inojin. Weird? It's just how Sarada is. It's not weird.
"What? Nah." He brushes them off, shaking his head. "It's just what she's like. She just worries too much about everyone."
"You mean she worries too much about you." Inojin corrected. "What? We were all thinking it." He adds when Shikadai sends him a look. Well, Boruto certainly wasn't.
"What? No! She's just-she just—no, she seriously does that for everyone! I don't know what you're on about, you know." Boruto defended, his cheeks heating from the accusation.
"Okay, okay, but I'm just saying. I've never seen her worry that much about anyone else." Inojin shrugs.
"Maybe you're not paying enough attention then. As if Sarada would just focus on me." Boruto says before turning to Shikadai. "Come on, you agree with me here, don't you?"
"Woah, don't drag me into this." Shikadai says, holding up his hands. Boruto sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Point still stands, Sarada, she wouldn't do that." He stated, waving his hand to prove his point. "Ow." He winced when he accidentally hit his injured arm against a dummy—how long had that thing been there?
"What'd you do?" Shikadai asked, eyebrows scrunched as he watched Boruto examine his arm.
"Nothing, nothin—" He began, trying to wave away the concern.
"Don't tell me you hurt yourself again." This time, it was Sarada's stoic voice. Boruto's eyes widened as she approached their group, placing the equipment she was holding on a bench. "Let me see that."
Boruto let Sarada examine his arm, his mind still on the recent conversation. Surely, Sarada wasn't paying special attention to him. Yet when he looked up to see his friends, their expressions spelled out 'I told you so' in every way possible.
"A-actually I don't need your help!" He blurted, removing his arm from Sarada's grasp. "I um got it!"
"Seriously Boruto, just let me look at it, you're—"
"Fine. I'm fine. I don't need you worrying." He cut her off, making sure she couldn't reach for his hand.
"Just stop being stubborn." She chastised, putting her hands on her hips.
"I'm not. I'm telling you I'm fine and that I don't need your help. Seriously, you're overreacting." It came out harsher than he intended, but at least that gave Sarada pause.
"I'm just trying to make sure you're not in pain." She defended, crossing her arms.
"Well, I'm not, so just leave me alone, okay? I don't need you babying me when I'm fine. I can take care of myself." He says, voice sharp. "It's weird when you do that, you know. It's not like I need your help."
"I-what? I'm not babying you and...and" She trailed off, the fire in her burned out as she looked away. "Fine." Was all she said before she rushed away from him. Guilt clawed at his chest immediately.
Crap, did he go too far?
Yes, yes, he had gone too far.
For all of their next Karate lesson, she had not even looked his way once. Not even when big bro Konohamaru had paired them to practise their kicks with each other. Instead, she had opted to focus on his shoulder, his hair and heck, even the pair practising next to them!
"Hey, look I just—" He tried when she sent a particularly powerful kick his way that he only just managed to dodge in time. "H-hey, what was that for?" He yelled, sending a kick back, one that she should've been able to easily dodge.
Except she hadn't been focusing on him. His kick landed, and she fell to the floor, clutching her shoulder.
"Crap, crap, I'm sorry—I thought you would've dodged it, you know!" He said, dropping to his knees next to her. He reached for her shoulder, hoping he hadn't injured her when she slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me, I'm fine." That was all she said. His heart sank. "Mr Konohamaru? I'm just going to go grab an ice pack." She announced before leaving him to stare at her retreating form. Clearly, it wasn't fine if she needed an ice pack!
And as he tried to apologise for both his kick and his words, she made it a point to ignore him. Agh, why did he have to go and say all that rubbish?
Boruto sighed as he glanced over at Sarada, who had ignored him all through their lessons—and to add insult to injury, ChoCho would glare at him every time she saw him. Though that wasn't the worst part.
It was as though she had replaced him, opting to practise with some other guys in their class that she had never looked twice at before—and he knew this because as far as he was concerned, he's the only guy she really looked at.
God, if she just wanted to practise so badly, she could just practise with ChoCho, not those lunatics who only wanted to ogle her! Heck, she could practise with him even if she never looked at his face once, if it meant those other bastards would keep their eyes to themselves. They were just bringing her down, you know!
He sighed again, running a hand through his face as he finally ripped his eyes away from Sarada—and the blockhead she had decided to practise with that day. He leaned against the wall, all enthusiasm to really practise lost when he noticed something that did not belong.
A bird, battered and bruised, was perched on the beams across their class roof, limping helplessly as it stared at the open door of their classroom. What was it doing there? He moved towards the beam, craning his neck to see better. The bird stared at him back, chirping a cry for help.
Well then, he certainly couldn't leave the guy there.
Boruto moved to one of the exposed wall beams, assessing it as he rolled up his sleeve. He can climb a tree, so how much more different could this be? He gripped onto the side of the beam before he began climbing. He was halfway up when people noticed.
"Boruto, what on earth are you doing? Get down here right now!" Big bro Konohamaru orders, looking up at him with horror-filled eyes.
"I can't, there's a bird I need to rescue!" Boruto calls back.
"What are you on about—just get down here!" Big bro yells back. Boruto had never been good at listening. He continued to climb, finally reaching the top.
"Alright little guy, I'm here to rescue you." He said to the bird, who curiously tilted his head at Boruto's outstretched arm. "Hop on." He motioned with his hand and eventually, the bird limped onto Boruto's open palm.
Placing the bird in his pocket, he looked down, meeting Sarada's eyes. She didn't say anything, simply stared at him with wide eyes. No matter what she said, she still worried about him. It shouldn't have made his heart soar as much as it did.
He began to slowly climb back down when suddenly the bird fell from his pocket. It tried flapping its broken wings, desperately trying to keep itself up even when it was no use.
"Hey!" He reacted before he could think, reaching out with his hand to grab ahold of the falling bird. Though he leaned too far and his other hand slipped from the beam. His eyes widened as he looked below at the impending crash.
The gasps of horror mix with the crunch of his impact.
"Boruto!" Big bro yelled, coming to his side immediately, and digging out his phone. "Aw man, you are such a..." He didn't finish his sentence though, the worry overpowering enough as he checked Boruto's arm.
Boruto, on the other hand, could barely look at the hand, let alone bear the pain. Pain shoots through his arm, subsiding every other sense to that hot, searing, awful, awful burn. His ragged breathing mixed with the worried whispers of classmates as he tried to keep at bay the screams that threatened to fall from his lips. The pain continued to agonise him.
"Just, just hold on. The ambulance will be here soon." Big bro tried to reassure though Boruto barely heard it. His scrambling eyes scurried around the room, trying to find anything to distract himself. His eyes found Sarada.
She stared at him with wide eyes, hands clasped in front of her as though to stop herself from reaching out. He wanted to yell at her to reach out and hold him, call him stupid, all the while reassuring him he will be fine. He focused on her to help the pain, and their eyes met.
He mustered up a weak smile, and that was all it took for her to break, reaching for him.
She wordlessly lent him her hand, and he grasped onto it like his life depended on it. She let him squeeze it until he was sure he was more than probably hurting her, yet she didn't say anything, instead she softly rubbed his hand with her thumb. She continued to stay with him until the ambulance arrived, soundlessly helping ease even a little of the pain.
He swore letting go of her hand was almost as painful as breaking his arm.
Boruto spent the first week surrounded by loved ones as he healed. Well, almost all his loved ones.
"Okay, enough of this. Who are you waiting for?" Inojin questioned, eyeing Boruto. Boruto replied with a quizzical look.
"What are you talking about, you know?" He questioned back, looking at Shikadai, hoping for an explanation. Shikadai simply let Inojin do the talking, that lazybones.
"You know, how you keep looking at the door every five seconds, like you're waiting for someone to arrive." Inojin says, waving his hand in the vague direction of Boruto's bedroom door. Boruto's eyes widened as he looked away, hiding the splashes of red colouring his cheeks. Jeez, just how obvious was he?
"I thought Sarada would've shown up by now." He admitted, sighing to himself. He leaned back against his bed as he awaited their reactions.
"You think that she might not have come because you know...you told her to stop worrying about you?" Shikadai gently suggested. Boruto's heart dropped.
Of course, she wouldn't want to show up after he had yelled at her for worrying about him. Regret and guilt mixed, to weigh down his shoulders. Crap, he didn't realise how much he needed her worry and care until he lost her.
Agh, why did he have to go and be such an idiot?
Upon arriving at the Karate studio, the first person his eyes landed on was Sarada. His heart squeezed at the sight of her. God, he really needed to talk to her.
He made his way towards her, anticipating seeing her face as she turned towards him. Her eyes dropped to his cast almost immediately. They both opened their mouths in unison.
"Um—"
"I—"
"Let me, first. Please." Boruto insisted, to which Sarada nodded. "What I said...I-I was a major idiot, and it's not true and I—" Sarada quickly cut him off, looking away.
"No, no, you were right. I really should stop worrying about you so much. It's silly of me, really." She chuckled nervously, rubbing her arm. The smile on her face was not the natural, beautiful one he was used to. "I, um, hope your arm gets better quickly." That was all she said in parting.
He moved to reach out but when he made eye contact with a glaring ChoCho; he retracted his hand. He regretted it almost immediately because he didn't know how much longer he could bear this tension with Sarada.
He spent that lesson watching Sarada practise with yet another guy and doing nothing practically useful, seeing as his arm was bringing him down. And his mood.
"Ow, jeez." Shikadai hissed in pain from beside him sometime later. Boruto turned to see his friend clutching his face, a small line of red decorating his face.
"Hey, what'd you do?" Boruto questioned, eyebrows knotting in concern.
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Shikadai brushed away the question, ignoring the cut across his cheek. Though he sighed when he noticed Boruto's unconvinced expression. "I just cut myself putting away these wood planks. Zoned out too much and let it get too close to my face, I guess." He added as a way of explanation.
"Of course, it happened because you zoned out." ChoCho snorted, coming to join them, Sarada not far behind her. Shikadai didn't bother with a reply.
"You should probably bandaid that up—here, let me." Sarada offered, moving to the first aid kit to grab some bandages. "I'm also just going to check that you don't have a splinter or anything."
"Wha-it's fine." Shikadai spoke up, eyes widened in surprise. Boruto didn't want to understand why Shikadai kept sending him glances. Sarada had never been one to particularly patch up Shikadai when he got hurt. She usually did that to him.
Boruto watched with arms crossed as Sarada reached for Shikadai's face, holding it so she could look at the cut better. Boruto wanted to roll his eyes. The cut was nothing really, nothing that Sarada personally needed to look at. Boruto huffed out a breath.
"Just how zoned out were you to get a splinter?" Sarada asked, marvelling at Shikadai's ability to switch off his brain in just about every situation.
"Cleaning is a drag." Shikadai muttered, moving his head to Sarada's whims as she tried to gently remove the splinter. Boruto huffed out another breath. Why couldn't ChoCho take out that splinter?
"Okay, sorry if that hurt, but let me just bandaid that quickly." Sarada says, and Boruto did roll his eyes this time. Oh please, she didn't need to worry about Shikadai so much. He only had a cut so if she wanted to worry about someone, he was right there with his broken arm. "All done."
It was at that moment, as Sarada was cleaning, that Shikadai looked up, raising his eyebrow at Boruto. Boruto turned his head. Shikadai may be known to see just about everything as a drag, but that didn't mean he wasn't one to also see what no one else could. And right now, Boruto didn't need Shikadai analysing him because he would rather not confront the reason for his feelings.
"I'm gonna go see if anything needs cleaning up over there." Boruto muttered to no one in particular.
"Maybe you'll find the reason why you're acting so antsy there, too." ChoCho said as he passed and his eyes widened. He wasn't acting antsy. Ugh, as if.
He moved around the studio, absentmindedly picking up equipment that had managed to end up in the odd corner or two that people missed. It was slow—what with one functional arm and all—but at least it was mind-numbing enough to get rid of the pictures of Sarada's hand on Shikadai's cheek.
Finally, one last thing left. He looked at the crate containing rent gloves, still left out and yet to be put away in storage until the next lesson. He glanced down at his cast and then at the crate. He'll be fine. He only really needs one hand, right?
He goes to lift the crate, but the weight of it pulls it down on one side. He sighed as he looked down at the crate before contemplating picking it up with his broken hand...he'll manage, right?
He began to pick it up with both hands, manoeuvring as best as he could with his cast and at first, it was fine. Good even. Then, much like how everything in his life has been going terribly recently, the crate began to weigh too much, slipping from his hands. He tried to catch it, to stop it from falling, but that only resulted in his hands twisting in awkward ways. Pain shot through his arms and he really did end up dropping the crate.
"Agh, damn." He hisses in pain, clutching his broken arm.
"Boruto?" He didn't have to turn around to know it was Sarada's voice. "Boruto? Boruto, what did you do?" Her voice rises with her concern and as the pain ebbs away, he realises the way she's inspecting him. The way she's worried about him.
"You're worried about me." He smiles, triumph and relief coursing through his veins. She worries about him, no matter how much she avoids him, how much he's messed up saying what he did. She still worries about him. He considers himself incredibly lucky. "Look, I'm sorry—"
"There's nothing to apologise for. Now, I'm going to go get a teacher so that they can have a look at your arm." She tells him calmly. God, how can she be so calm when he's being thrown around in a current of his own emotions? She turns to leave, but he doesn't let her, not this time.
"No, you're not leaving me right now. I'm fine, okay, and this is more important." He says, grabbing a hold of her arm. When she doesn't put up much of a fight, he continues. "I like it when you worry about me, it...it makes me feel special knowing I have y-your attention, so please continue to look after me, okay? Because I really need your worry."
"Oh." She says dumbfounded, her lips parting in surprise. His eyes drop to her pink lips and he unconsciously pulls her closer.
"I felt awful every time you avoided me and knowing it was my own damn fault? It made it so much worse. I should not have said what I said...I was just flustered when someone pointed out how much you worry about me and-and I didn't know how to react except to push you away. And honestly, it was the biggest mistake of my life." He chuckles self-consciously. Should he be spilling his feelings like this so easily?
"Oh." Is all Sarada can muster in response, her wide eyes staring at him.
"Again, I'm really sorry...just don't ignore me again." His grip on her tightens as though she might run away and ignore him again. "I really need you back." He mumbles, looking away. He hopes she doesn't hear.
"Oh." She mumbles for the third time. At least she hadn't pulled away from him. He watches the way her shoulders square from his periphery and hears her move towards him. "Then let me start worrying about you by fixing that cut on your face."
"Huh? What-how?" He questions, dumbfounded, as she leads them to some benches.
"Shikadai's not the only one that injures himself when he's cleaning zoned out." Sarada says, smiling to herself. Jeez, did she have to bring him up? The last thing he wants on his mind now is images of Shikadai's face in her hands.
She sits on the bench beside him, examining the cut he didn't know he had. As she places the bandaid, her other hand cups his cheek, the tips of her fingers playing with the short strands of hair she can reach. He can't help but nuzzle into her hand. Though he looks up when she freezes in her spot.
"W-what?" He asks, his eyes locking with her shocked ones. "D-do you only hold Shikadai's face now?" He challenges.
"No, no, definitely not." She mumbles, leaning closer until their breaths mingle between them as she checks that the bandaid is on properly.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?" He asks softly, nuzzling further into her palm. She isn't in a hurry to move, anyway.
"Hm?" She mumbles.
"Why did you do that?" He asks, then clarifies. "Help Shikadai, I mean...it's not like you've done that to him before...I-I just-I know this makes me sound like a jerk, but he could've just done it himself." He mumbles.
"But I thought you said you didn’t need my help…you could’ve probably healed yourself right now you know?" She replies.
"You know I was lying and t-that-this is different!" He blurted out, cheeks reddening. It is different. They were different. "It's always been the two of us, not you and Shikadai. So it-it wouldn't make sense if you suddenly started to care for him." His words end in a mumble as he averts his eyes. He knows he sounds like a jerk but he couldn't help himself—and don't get him wrong, he cares about Shikadai's wellbeing and wants him to be looked after properly...just not by his Sarada.
"I see..." She says, chewing her lip as she too looks away. She moves her hand from his cheek to clasp it on her lap and he misses her warmth immediately. "Well, um, I um don't really know what I er was thinking but I um but I just...wanted to make you jealous." She finishes in a small voice.
"Huh?" He stares at her, eyes wide.
"I-I know it was silly and really stupid, but—"
"Well, it worked." He mumbles, redness colouring his cheeks, and she turns to him. They glance away again as they let their respective revelations sink in.
"Right...yep." Sarada says awkwardly, playing with her fingers. "Also, um, I want to apologise."
"Er, for what?" He asks, puzzled.
"For not visiting you." She says. "It was my uncle's birthday and we all really wanted to go somewhere to celebrate such a big milestone and I, um, assumed you knew but then Shikadai told me you didn't...so I just want to say sorry for not visiting." Well, he supposes he can't be too mad at Shikadai now that he helped clear that up.
"You know it's fine." He reassures, sending her a smile.
"I hope you know that I would've visited if I could've even if you had told me to leave because you didn't want me—"
"No, I want you." He asserted before his eyes widened as he quickly added. "I-I mean, I wanted you there. I really wanted you there...I, um, was looking for you when I woke up because you're always there for me when I do."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there this time...I promise I'll make it up to you." She says.
"What, you think I'm going to get hurt again—actually don't answer that." He hurries to say, holding up a hand.
"With your track record...I wouldn't be surprised." She mumbles, holding back a grin. They sat there for a moment, enjoying the setting sun spilling from their studio windows.
"You know, I kinda wish you had yelled at me when I said all that rubbish." He admits. "Then this wouldn't have happened—actually, why didn't you?" He turns to her, questioning.
"I mean, I know I was probably overbearing, acting like that, so I just assumed you finally got tired of me." She admits softly, refusing to meet his eyes. "And other people have been making comments, so I guess that was more than enough reason to stop being like that."
"You're really silly if you think I could ever get tired of you, you know. Be as overbearing as you like. I don't mind one bit." He says, reaching out to hold her cheek so she would look at him. "And I think the best thing for us to do right now is to stop caring about what other people say. Got it?"
"Yeah..." She mumbles softly, nodding in his hand.
"Good." He says, smiling. Her eyes drop to his lips at that. His mouth parts in surprise and watches the way Sarada's cheeks redden. His heart beats furiously at that. "Sarada...?" He whispers.
"Ah!" She startles suddenly, her shoulders jumping as she averts her eyes. She tries to turn, but his hold on her face grows firmer as he allows his hand to thread through her short strands of hair.
"Um, I think you should kiss my injury!" He blurts out suddenly. "So that, so that it gets better faster, you know." He tries to reason—not that he needs it. After all, he's known for healing quickly. He watches the way Sarada stares at him for a moment. Then she's suddenly leaning in and he's holding his breath.
Their distance grows smaller until he feels her breath fan his face as she presses a soft kiss on his cheek. Her lips linger over that spot and it's simply torture, having to control his racing heart, having to control the blush colouring his face and neck.
Then she removes the hand on her cheek to place a kiss on that hand. He stares at her as he can no longer control the way his heart skips a beat or the blush spreading across every inch of his body.
"Did that help?" She says, leaning closer to mumble into his ear. He nods dumbly as goosebumps dot his skin. "Good. Now I, um, should go get a teacher." She says hurriedly, getting up from the bench. He realises she's gotten up to leave too late.
"Wait!" He calls out to her, but she's gone too far to hear him.
And a small part of him was thankful because he had nearly asked her to kiss him again.