#boruino

[aluna-hime]

Boruto is just so shippable with everyone in the series! Talagang nananalaytay sa kanya ang dugong Hokage!

Me (After watching 5 episodes of Boruto: Naruto Next Generations)

(Only Filipinos will understand the last sentence XD)

[homeisforpeoplewithhouses]

Idle Glances - Chapter 3

Title: Vertigo Word Count: 5357 words Pairings: Sasuke x Sakura, Boruto x Inojin (mentioned), Boruto x Sarada (mentioned) Warnings: Mild violence, teenagers being awkward weens.

Chapters: (Prologue) (1) (2)

A/N: Finally caught up posting on here, so now I can focus in on the newer, longer chapters. Hinata's bit was so sad that I rewrote it to make it sadder. Whoops. Lot's of drama in this one, bit of introduction for some of the OC's that are gonna be getting fleshed out later in this story. narutowhat, here it is!

AO3 / FF

Sarada stood alone on top of the Hokage tower, her crimson eyes panning over the higher village. So much life up there, yet hardly anyone from the lower village would venture up there, deeming it be the home of boring civilians with boring lives. They ran back and forth all day, doing such menial things and being caught up in them that they barely even thought about the aid of the lower village, the ones who did the actual work. The combined efforts of the Sixth and Seventh Hokages had improved the nation’s technology and brought it forwards much further than anyone could have ever expected, but there was still a desire for people to do the dirty work, to go further and work harder than the merchants or businesspeople. A lot of the time, shinobi were used to fight off bandits, slave merchants and other sorts of undesirable types. Whilst they no longer were employed for the usual assassination or intelligence missions, more often than not, shinobi were still assigned with the dirty work that the civilians couldn’t bring themselves to deal with.

Sarada had been sent on a few B rank missions since her promotion to Chuunin and spent a lot of time training, never wanting her talents to be underutilised or undertrained. Mostly it’d been simple groups of not very talented bandits, committing petty crimes or threatening heads of small villages throughout the Fire Country. Although, on one notable occasion, she’d been sent out with Boruto to take out a decently ranked bandit who’d been attacking farmers for no reason other than he liked to kill people. He was a fan of his long sword, which made it difficult for Boruto (who was such a fan of close quarters combat) to keep up, but Sarada had stayed back and kept the man off-guard with shuriken until Boruto could find an opening. They’d managed to bring him back in chains and had been paid well for it, bringing a bright grin to both of their faces and hearty congratulations from their parents. She smiled a little at the memory, before clenching her fist, thinking of how different Boruto was now. That idiot tried to strike Papa! Didn’t he remember all the stories were heard about our dads? After all of the teens had tried to talk Boruto around, they had met up and discussed their various attempts to talk Boruto around, as well as their various failures. She had read out the letter her dad had left her before he took off, in which he talked about his attempt to talk to Boruto and how he was going to find someone that “would fix the problem”. Whilst Sarada had a lot of faith in her father, sometimes his tendency to run off without telling anyone what he was doing was a source of frustration. She knew that he’d probably come through, but she wished he’d at least be less secretive.

Inojin had reported his disappointing failure with a look of anger in his eyes as his hand ran along his bruises that lined his face. Shikadai had had a sheepish look on his face when he reported that he’d been dragged off to deal with family politics, as there was a planned visit from the Kazekage soon to show support for Konoha during its period of unrest before the choosing of a new Hokage. He’d promised to try and drag Boruto along to talk to his uncle, but he’d muttered something about how tiresome it would be, before seeing a pointed glare directed at him. He’d shut up pretty quick after that. The group had split off after that leaving Sarada alone with Inojin who looked a bit dazed, and more than a little bit contemplative.

“Do you think that Boruto is planning on leaving the village to get revenge?” His big eyes had bored into hers, making her feel almost a little uncomfortable. Inojin, whilst quite emotional like his mother, did tend to show off a cold almost emotional side when he would think about things overly hard. She’d felt a chill run through her body at the thought of Boruto leaving the village, not only because of her feelings for him, but because he’d been one of her oldest friends, knowing him as long as she could remember. A shrug and a nonchalant shake of the head had been her response and he’d left in a puff of smoke, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She sighed a little and decided to go looking for Boruto again, if he hasn’t been found by one of the others. Deciding to visit the place where they’d always hang out when they were younger, Sarada turned and jumped off the building roof, heading towards her destination. The clearing around the place was surrounded with a barbed wire fence, obviously designed to keep out civilians and young shinobi, but she ignored it, leaping up and over, landing lightly on her feet, before straightening her clothes with a smirk. She’d always excelled with her acrobatics and they’d only gotten better since she’d awakened her Sharingan.

As she walked through the overgrown path, she lamented over days past, of times spent sparring with Boruto before she heard a slight crunch and saw the slightest movement from the corner of her eyes and spins, whilst ducking quickly, narrowly avoiding the kunai as it soared over her head. She reacted in kind, throwing one of her own, aiming for where they’d been launched from mere seconds ago, but the shadow was already gone, flashing back in front of her, blonde hair flying around like a maddening halo. Another smirk twisted across her mouth and she lashed her arm out, grabbing onto his jacket, before kicking off with her feet, causing him to smack into the ground hard. Taking the momentary lapse into account, she activated her sharingan, and the two tomoe flashed as the blood red seeps into her eye. Boruto grimaced as he stood up before recognising the superior look on her face and frowned.

“Fuck, Sarada, I could have killed you,” he said, worry evident in his voice.

She laughed out loud at that, “You say that like you ever could.” Smirking, she adjusted her glasses, before continuing, “Face it, you couldn’t, even if you wanted to.” A warm smile spread across her face. They haven’t bantered like this since before he found out that his father had been murdered.

Shaking his head in frustration, he looked into her red eyes. “So, what do you want? You obviously came to say something, so why not say it?” His tone was stressed and it’s evident that he was not interested in anything that she had to say.

“I want to spar with you, let’s train like we used to.” The words came out before she’d even registered what she was saying, “If you’re so determined to do this, then let me in. Don’t do this alone.” Inwardly she flinched, knowing how much hell her parents would rain down upon her if they heard her saying these things, especially downright treasonous thoughts.

Boruto laughed at that and then smirked before speaking in a snarky tone. “Oh really? So you’re not gonna threaten me like your dad, or try to convince me with friendship like Inojin? You’ve just given up on keeping me off this path?”

“Well, if there’s anything I learnt from our parents and their stories, it’s that trying to keep Papa in the village did nothing. Maybe if Mama had accompanied him, he wouldn’t have fallen so far, or hurt so many people. So I’m here to keep your head straight, and I’m sure we can convince Inojin and Shikadai as well.”

He shrugged at that. “Your funeral. But the instant you guys weigh me down, I’m ditching you, we clear?” She gave a nonchalant nod in response, before looking in his eyes.

“Big words from the guy who’s currently clad in weights.” The playful tone signalled a return to the less tense atmosphere and he smiled and it was so genuine that she felt her heart flutter a little, before forcing it down. Not the time to be thinking about romantic feelings. Whilst she scolded herself mentally, Boruto grabbed his kunai from the bushes and tossed it towards her, hilt first. She grabs it and nearly dropped it, the weight surprising her.

“Weighted kunai?”

He nods, the grin on his face evident from how pleased he is with himself. “Yep, based it off Gramp’s design, and made it so that I can eventually use it to do the Flying Raijin.” The smugness in his tone was almost enough to make her grit her teeth in frustration. This wasn’t the first time Boruto has tried to mimic things that his father and grandad had done, though it seems like he’s been having a bit more success than with some of his past endeavours.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” She glanced over the blade, memorising its design, the longer pointed blade and the reduced wait in the hilt. Making sure to commit it memory, she handed it back to him, content that she knows enough about it to counter it if the time comes. “Is this all you’ve been working on?”

He shook his head and presented his heavily calloused palm, and set his face in a pained expression as he apparently attempted to visualise something. It startled her when she noticed the sparks coming from his hand as he channels more energy into it, his face contorting and minute droplets of sweat starting to ride to the surface of his skin. Grinning, he poured more chakra into his hand and the sparks begin to increase before eventually he relaxed and the sparks fade away and he slumped, looking absolutely exhausted and sinking down onto one knee. She raises her eyebrow delicately.

“That’s new.”

Whilst she says it with an impressed tone, she quietly puzzled over the attempt to learn the new technique. Is it because he thinks that it’ll make him stronger? Does he think that using that will give him the edge he needs in a fight? He doesn’t even have a Sharingan to counter out the negative effects of the Chidori. It’s interesting to know that he has an affinity for Lightning Release, though. Boruto tilted his head gently, looking at her, his blue eyes piercing through her red ones. “You’re worrying about the side effects of it, aren’t you?”

She’s stunned that he read her face so well, Papa had spent so long emphasising to her the importance of being able to disguise one’s emotions when trying to get information. I’m sorry Papa. Shrugging slightly, she made a gesture with her hand. “A bit, though I know there are ways to get around the Chidori’s weakness.” But it takes a long time reach that stage and the Sharingan makes it easier, her internal monologue whispered, but she refused to say it out loud, knowing that he’d probably already accounted for that. She reached up and straightened her glasses again, the slightly skewed frames causing her to grimace. Years of wear and tear have warped the frames, but she likes to keep them as a sentimental symbol, not wanting to let go of the memories.

It was time to make the jump between planning and putting it into action.

“Fine, let’s see how your new tricks are going for you, Boru,” she laughed with a twitching at the corner of her mouth, bringing back her childhood nickname for him. She raised a hand and pointed at him.

“Show us what you got.”

. . .

Inojin winced as the plate shatters in front of him, the loud noise harsh upon his sensitive ears. The loud voice of his mother rung out, as it does on nights like this. The two adults faced off, Ino ranting about how Sai was always home late, Sai responding coolly that she was pretty quick to talk, given her habit of drinking at work. Inojin sighed a little, grabbing a broom to sweep up the shards, being careful not to get between the two adults, as he hoped that it would be over quicker than some of the other ones.

“Ino, must you always get so hostile for such small things?” As always, his tone is controlled and measured, but with a touch of frustration that showed how he was gradually losing patience with the direction of the argument. However, it looked like his mother had taken offence to the suggestion of overreacting and she crushed the bottle in her hand, her eyes narrowing into slits.

“Why must you always be so calm? Why can’t you be that much warmer?” she spat out, her voice incredibly low and contained. “You’re emotional at the wrong times; I just want you to show that you care for me and your son.” It’s been a long time since he’s heard her say something like this, so he held on to the hope that this may be the end of the argument. Seemingly, his father also picked up on the cue and swept in, pulling Ino tightly into his arms, nuzzling his face into her neck, and she stayed stiff for a few moments before wrapping her own arms around the man she fell in love with. Inojin let himself heave a great sigh of relief before throwing the shards into the trash can. While he ignored the sounds of his parents making up, he heard a knock at the front door.

Eager to get away from the recurring family drama, he walked towards the entrance and was surprised, but not unhappy to finding his teammates standing there. He nodded his head in his usual greeting to Chouchou and Shikadai, who were both looking miserable. Inojin frowned, looking from one to the other, “What’s wrong with you guys? You look like you’ve been through a washing machine.” It’s true, both of the teens were soaked through, but he couldn’t recall hearing any rain. Chouchou shrugs with a look of anger her face.

“We were coming back from the outskirts of the village where a storm is brewing, it’s just passing over the village now, and it should start pouring any second. Can we chill here?” Talking with Chouchou is always a one way road with no stops. Either you go with her flow, or you get bulldozed over. Inojin sighed, before running a hand through his shaggy hair. He hadn’t tied it up because he was cleaning, so he whipped a hair tie off his hand and tied it back into its ponytail.

“As much as I love having you guys around home, it’s been one of those nights and I don’t really want you guys around if it flares up again.” The two nodded their heads, having been caught in the situation a few times before. “How about we go hang out somewhere in the village? It’s not really great weather for training.” Shikadai shrugged, content to just keep out of his house and away from his uncles. The pair had a habit of making him train even harder than he would on his own and he’d always whinge about how he couldn’t get sand out of his intimate areas for weeks after.

The trio set out through the darkened village, occasionally nodding at other shinobi or civilians as they passed them in the street, Chouchou knowing the most people out of the three. Her habits of eating a lot as a child had brought her into contact with more people than the less sociable boys, Inojin having spent a lot of time alone, taking after his father’s artistic streak and Shikadai actually actively holding disdain towards other people, preferring to entertain himself by exercising and staying on top of his training. It always amused the other members of his team that his most commonly said phrase was ‘troublesome’, yet he trained harder than they did and they never hesitated to remind him of it.

The dark skinned girl chuckled, before she brought her arms up with a smile on her face. “We should get something to eat, and hang out downtown.” Inojin allowed himself a small smile, relaxing a little, releasing the tension he’d been holding in since his parent’s fight earlier in the evening. Ever since they were kids, Chouchou helped him out whenever he was feeling down about something, and in more recent years had consoled him when his parent’s had started to have their periodic arguments. She’d helped him realise that even though his parent’s fought, they didn’t actually hate each other. The two of them had even gone out on a few dates, before they both realised that they were better friends, remaining close, their dynamic completely unchanged.

Cheerfully, Chouchou linked arms with the two other boys, and dragged them towards her favourite dango store, talking about how she was looking forwards to her monthly visit to Kumo and how excited she was to be seeing Omoi again, as he would always give her some new weapons or training gear. Shikadai lamented over the fact that his uncles will be in town for a week more at the least and how waking up twice a night to find “scary fuckin’ puppets of dead people” and “being thrown around in geysers of fuckin’ sand” wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded (which didn’t sound like anything resembling fun in the first place). Inojin laughed alongside the pair, just enjoying the sensation being around some of his favourite people.

When they arrived, the boys sat down while Chouchou walked off to grab a selection of dumplings for the group to eat. The boys threw their share on the table before lazily sitting back and chatting about various things. Shikadai began to tease Inojin for his crush on Boruto, before Inojin with a smirk asked him if he’s done crushing on Himawari and the flush from the dark haired boy lets him know that he’s hit a raw nerve. With a gentle laugh, he leaned back, pulling his hair back, untying, and then re-tying it back into its usual ponytail. “Uzumakis. They’re all ridiculous.”

Shikadai snickered, “I think you mean ridiculously attractive.” Inojin sneered at the other boy, his lips curled back.

“She’s like 12 dude, gross,” Inojin laughs, “Keep your bloody perversion to yourself.” Shikadai leaned forwards, clasping his hands together and cracking his joints.

“Try it Yamanaka, I can take you,” he intoned lowly and for a few seconds, the two boys glared at each other, their intent clear before they both leant back cackling, an action which got cut short when the Akimichi girl returned, smacking Shikadai upside the head, before sitting down next to Inojin and tugging on his ear, twisting it till his mouth twitched.

“You both need to cut out the big-boy shit, it won’t make your dicks grow,” she laughed, before releasing her tight hold on his ear, leaving Inojin to grimace as the ear throbs painfully, whilst Shikadai rubbed the back of his head mournfully, looking unusually upset by the outburst of violence, before returning to his usual self. The Nara and Akimichi started to bicker and quarrel whilst Inojin just sat back smiling, watching the storm roll in and the rain start to come down. Ever since he was a kid, he had loved the sound and smell of rain, and his walls for years have been covered in drawings that he did of the rare rainstorms that would come through Konoha. Once he’d learnt how to use paints, the art had been replaced with more detailed pictures of the city during storms.

He slowly nibbled at his food, occasionally mumbling a response, but he quietly watched the evening rain and wasn’t removed from his daze until a blushing girl came up to him and poked his shoulder. Raising his defined eyebrow, he turned to look at her. She smiled nervously, which prompted Shikadai to start snickering from behind his hand. Inojin ignored the Nara, returning her smile, and asked her politely why she was poking him and if she could cut it out.

The girl drew back a little, before steeling herself. “My name’s Takara Nakamura, and I was wondering if I could hang out with you?” Her voice was sincere, but it had a nice ring to it.  Inojin nodded, before looking to the other two shinobi with him.

“Are you cool with her hanging with us?”

Chouchou shrugged, “Yeah, she’s probably cool. Just remember that I’m the coolest girl in this group.” This drew an odd look from the new girl, but she dipped her head slightly in greeting.

“Whatever, not like we need more of your fangirls around, Inojin,” he laughed, sending the girl into a slightly deeper shade of red. Evidently swallowing her pride, she sat down beside Shikadai, who jokingly brushes dirt off his shoulder, before Chouchou leaned over and smacked her knuckles on his forehead, knocking him backwards onto the floor. Takara giggled slightly, before realising that it might be rude, whilst Inojin snorted at the downfall of the Nara teen. Grumbling through his teeth, Shikadai reclaimed his seat, whilst shooting daggers at the brown haired girl.

Sensing a need to change the topic, Inojin looked over at the newest addition to their small group. “So, um… Takara? You’ve got your headband, but I honestly don’t remember seeing you around often.” The girl shrugged, a bit twitchy with all the eyes on her.

“Uh, well, my genin team were a recon team. We all specialised in gaining intelligence quickly, and leaving quickly, so we spent a lot of time honing our skills out in the field, helping out older teams by getting them information on criminals, then letting them finish the job. It was tough, but we did a lot of good.” It bothered Inojin that she’s talking in the past tense, and not like it’s something she’s done recently. “But now that I’m a Chuunin, I do a lot of stuff with other shinobi, outside of my old team.” He watched as she twisted her hair around her finger, fascinated by the way her black hair looks when she curled it. Of course, Shikadai ruined the moment of quiet with his usual attitude.

“Well, at least you’re not some shitty-ass genin trying to suck up.” It always amused Inojin just how much of a foul mouth Shikadai has when he’s trying to make people unnerved or uncomfortable, but given the circumstance, he opted to leer at him. The leer is quite clearly noted and the other boy backed off with a humph and closed his eyes.

The girl talked a little more about her family; her dad a merchant who ran a trading business in the city on top of the village, and her mother who was a nurse at the hospital and her little brother who’s more interested in being a merchant than a shinobi. When she talked about this, it’s evident that she was being pushed that way as well, but she then explained how it’d been her goal since she could remember to be a good shinobi. So she’d worked hard and made it through, forever believing in the same ethic that Rock Lee had; that hard work can still produce a good shinobi, regardless of their bloodline. The group continued to chat lightly after she was done introducing herself, talking about upcoming missions, about their day to day and any gossip they had heard. Shikadai tends to get a little quieter with the talk of family, and it’s evident that he’s still very much hurting, even though he’d never admit to the fact.

Inojin sighed. The 7th Hokage may very well have been viewed as one of the greatest Hokage’s in terms of the era of peace he had brought with him, but even he couldn’t stop all the flaws that had arisen with the new found peace. There’d always be death and sadness, it was in the human nature. It just needed to be accepted.

. . .

The room is so quiet, she idly wondered. Her amethyst eyes excruciatingly panned over the room, taking in the minute details, looking at the cracks, the flaws. The painting that they did together has faded a little, now that so many years have passed. Some of the pictures which adorned the walls have cracked glass and she questioned when that happened, trying to piece together the foggy parts of her memory. It had become a lot harder for her to remember things since… since it happened. She raised her hand to her face, confused by the sudden wetness and she realised that she was crying. That detached feeling spreads through her once more; the numbness spreading through her body like a virus and it chilled her to the core.

Hinata looked upwards towards the roof, her breath coming slowly and gently through her lips, her fingers clenched at her chest as that familiar pain came back to her. How many days has it been since I last stood up? How many days since I left this confined room? The bitterness enveloped her worse than the numbness and she lay on her back, sobbing gently, bringing her knees up to her chest. She could hear the two girls playing out in the hallway, the burbles from the younger girl only hurting her more to hear. If only I could bring myself to make it out of the room and see them. If only.

Steeling herself, she slowly and unsteadily stood up, emotions racking her body, weak from lack of sleep and food. Running her hand along the wall, she slowly stumbled, occasionally leaning on the wall for support, for a few seconds. A few minutes? How long it was she didn’t really know. When she got to the door, she gently raised her hand out, feeling the trembling aches run through it. As her fingers brushed the door handle, she feels a gentle tremble run through her, consuming her whole being and mind. Her raven hair quivered from the increased shaking and she slowly sank to the floor, tears sliding down her face and dripping to the floor. Long hair cascaded down onto the floor as she sank slowly against the floor, her face pressed roughly against the floor as fell softly onto the hardened floorboards.

After a while, her sobs petered out, and she found herself staring at the roof, whilst lying on her back. Her fingers slowly grasped and ungrasped, feeling the emptiness between them. As her mind wandered, she saw the man beside her, his face so full of life and happiness, his eyes so bright. She tried to hold on to the image for a few more desperate moments before she faded away but then she was alone again. It was so utterly hopeless that she curled up and quietly whispered his name like an incantation, desperately searching for something of him within the cloak that covered her.

She wasn’t sure just how long she had lain on the floor. Some light had filtered in but then it was gone but she didn’t know if she’d really seen it. After what she assumed was some more time she heard a gentle rap at the door and raised those red raw eyes to see her daughter standing there, a determined look on her face. The girl knelt down next to her mother and planted a soft kiss on her face, before grabbing one of her mother’s arms and lifting her upwards. She slipped under the older woman to support her weight, whilst still keeping that same expression upon her face. Hinata was in such a daze that she could hardly process what was going on, as she was led through their home. The paired passed an inquisitive Mina, whose white eyes followed her mother and sister gently, before she gently toddled after them. The three made their way to the garden, which was sheltered under a canopy. Usually it was covered with a shelter that let water in but reduced the sun a bit, but for now, the canopy was covered with a plastic tarp, evidently drawn over by Himawari to shelter the plants from the storm. As Hinata got over the odd realisation that her daughter had been keeping things in line, she noticed a small fountain. Himawari pointed to it with a smile and nodded at her mother, coming across as quite matronly. “Have a look, Mama.”

The older Uzumaki walked across and looked at the fountain and felt an odd sensation run through her. The fountain had two tiers, with a swirling whirlpool in both, looping it around so that it kept moving in a continuous, circular motion. Hinata felt a small tear trickle down her face as she realised what it represented. “Himawari, did you?” Her voice was so small that it cracked and quivered, sore from its disuse. When did Sasuke visit? Was that the last time I spoke? Her thoughts swirled around and around her cluttered mind while she tried to process the fountain in front of her

“Dad might be gone, but we’re never going to let his legacy die,” Himawari whispered, her voice brave, fighting against her obvious inner turmoil. “It’s always going to hurt because we love him, but this is just a small way to remember him, because if we keep going and try to forget how important he was, it’s just not going to go away.” As Hinata watched her daughter, she could almost see the love of her life saying the same thing. The look of determination, regardless of the circumstance reminded her so much of the man she would love her entire life and it was like the fog had lifted from her mind a little, even for the briefest of moments. She turned back to face the two girls and crouched down, arms spread wide and the look of sheer happiness warmed the woman’s  tired heart as she let her two girls embrace her for the first time in weeks.

“I missed you so much Mama,” cried Mina, her voice so little and afraid that it broke her mother’s heart to hear her sound so sad and alone. She squeezed her daughters tight in her arms, the long dark hair drifting over the other two girls’ dark blue hair and the trio was one ball of tight emotions. It was only then that Hinata realised that someone was missing from their group, someone who should be there but wasn’t.

“Hima, where’s Boruto?” The look on Himawari’s face at the question sent a cold chill down Hinata’s back, although she wasn’t sure what for.

“Boruto’s been training lots, Mama, he’s not really around home since that fight with Sasuke-sensei,” and as soon as the world ‘fight’ was out of her mouth Hinata stood up with a look of sheer horror on her face.

“What? Sasuke-kun?” She had a blurry memory of Sasuke coming to console her, but she could barely remember anything about it.

“Sasuke-sensei came over to visit and tried to talk Boruto out of his obsession with trying to get revenge on the people who killed Papa,” Himawari looked away, obviously trying to keep the emotion off her face, “He’s been working so hard that people have been trying to stop him from doing it, but he just won’t listen.” She sighed, looking far older than she has any right to. Hinata averted her eyes, before wiping at her own red eyes. Looking back at the two girls who’ve made her life so much happier, she smiled gently before she reached out and took each of their hands, squeezing them tightly.

“You girls don’t worry. Boruto, like you, is his father’s son. He’ll come around and do what’s right in all good time.” Now, if only she could convince herself of that. Slumping a little, she squeezed her daughter’s hands once more and pulled them back into her arms again, snuffling gently into Mina’s hair.