'Tis I Luminosity, back from a Finals induced Hiatus. I just wanted to let you all know that, I will be working on my other two fics and other stories, the next chapter Silhouette should be out next. On the topic of this fic and my other works, do not expect frequent updates especially for Red String.

I am also not quite sure where I am going with this fic in terms of genre, but it will end up being a humor, angst and small-scale semi-unrealistic family fluff thing. But untell then I am just going to put it under adventure and drama because that always works.

Now on with the show,

I do not own Naruto or Boruto

Old age was one hell of a way for an Uzumaki to go out. Unlike the clans that don't reaver the deaths of those who die peacefully, instead of in the midst of battle, the Uzumaki acknowledge that if you lived a full life and still died of natural causes, you must have kicked ass at some point.

Boruto Uzumaki, couldn't agree more.

He had been pretty damn badass at one point in time, and the more childish side of him was convinced he still was. That cocky brat inside of himself seemed, to just be screaming, 'So what if I am 110 years old, I am still fucking awesome, dattebasa!'

It was almost funny that those same arrogant, headstrong impulses, which had gotten him into so much trouble during his childhood were once again making an appearance some 90 or so years later.

Unfortunately, these idiotic and naive tendencies were long since laid to rest, in favor of his famed genius and impressive intellect. This had changed his worldview from overly optimistic to that of a shinobi, a realist. It was not to say he was a pessimist, he had merely shed the biased that had come with naivety.

In his mind, there was humor to be found in the fact that a small minority of people, attributed his ability to think so clearly and assess any situation in record time, as of his as a side effect of Jōgan.

The mental prowess one needs to gain in order to see things clearly and think logically no matter the situation is only achieved through experience (though being a genius certainly helps). Sometime in wistful bouts of silence, Boruto will wonder of if this train of thought is hypocritical before shaking it off in favor of the obvious answer.

Because it is, it always is. Incredibly hypocritical and incredibly ironic.

The elderly man allows a small smile to pull at his lips to, before taking a drag on his pipe. It was a horrible habit he started a year prior. He had gotten quite a bit of grief from his family for his new smoking tendency, they would complain under the guise of annoyance by saying it was setting a bad example for the younger generation when in reality they were worried about his health.

In some way, Boruto found this extremely endearing (though he would ever say it to their faces), in another way it also brought about fits of melancholy. Clinical though it may seem, telling the people he cares about, 'I can smoke however much I want because I have one foot in the grave anyhow,' is purely out of love because he wants them to be ready for his imminent passing.

Speaking of passing…

If he hadn't thought it was imminent before it was sure as hell was now.

Boruto laughs lightly to himself as he takes one last drag on his pipe. He savors that last taste of tobacco and lets out a beautiful plume of smoke. The amount of willpower he is forced to muster in an attempt to put down the source of his favorite pastime is borderline surprising. There is an odd feeling of melancholy, that bubbled to the surface, didn't seem to be based upon the fact he couldn't keep smoking his pipe -he had enough self-restraint even in his old age to know addiction is fatal- but a heart wrenching confirmation, that yes, this was really it, the end of the line.

Despite his calm demeanor, it seemed even Boruto Uzumaki, S-class shinobi, was not exempt from the fear that comes with facing the Shinigami.

However, he was calmer and more composed than the rest. Unlike the masses Boruto had the Uzumaki lifeblood running through his veins, he has had time to come to terms with the inevitable. There was some peace to be found in the fact that there would be no last second adrenaline rush to give him the strength to overcome this, there would be no second chances, it would all be over.

It was with these thoughts that were racing through Boruto's mind as he takes out a storage scroll and seals the pipe away. When working with fuinjutsu, it was bad form to keep anything that could possibly ruin the seal or distract the practitioner, in the working space. Something he wouldn't allow himself to be exempt from especially in old age.

With as much grace as someone his age can muster, he takes a kunai from the set of tools laid out in front of him and drives it into his arm creating a deep gash.

The pain doesn't bother him and considering all he has been through it shouldn't.

Blood drips from the newly opened wound into a small bowl. Slowly, almost delicately, it begins to begin to fill. As it nears its maximum capacity only one centimeter off being full, Boruto directs his chakra flow towards his arm, allowing the wound to heal.

Next came the part he was not fond of, having to tell the story of a man who most certainly wasn't a hero.

Even after coming to terms with everything he had done, there is still a rather large part of himself that fears what they will say in the end -those who he is leaving behind.

'They are proud of you Boruto Uzumaki, and you know what, I am too.'

The elderly man promptly squashes the twinge of regret that comes upon noticing that he could have forestalled the completion of the seal if he had not to lay out the foundation and the constraints of the matrix ahead of time.

But that would be breaking a noble tradition, and the possibility that he could have died without sealing some essence of himself into the mask was a thought that he didn't want to entertain. Instead, he focuses on what he had come here to do, the sealing, the telling of a story that is so famous, yet barely known.

Boruto baths the hairs of the calligraphy brush in the pool of blood before raising it towards the numerous scrolls that mask's sealing matrix spans across when forced out of a condensed state.

The lack of noise from what would have been a momentous event if anyone had been informed of his whereabouts, was a welcomed change. He needed to think, and that wouldn't have happened if he was in his house by a busy street or being dragged to a council meeting.

This left him alone with his thoughts and unfortunately, he is not sure where to start.

The beginning was nothing new. His years at the academy and time with Team 7 (Konohamaru) now belonged to Boruto Namikaze of Konoha. The line separating everything that happened before Boruto Uzumaki's 16th birthday and the first 16 years of Boruto Namikaze's life, was far to thin.

If anything Kawaki's attack on Konoha was the best starting point, but that wound hurt more than any pain.

Of course, there always was the inauguration and the birth of Naruto, his father, but both of those were to close to the middle and Boruto wanted to start at the beginning which left...

Well, every story has to start somewhere.

94 years ago

"'The age of shinobi is over' said Kawaki."

"'I'm going to kick your ass and destroy your village,' said Kawaki."

"'I'm going to send you to the same place I sent the seventh Hokage,' said Kawaki."

It was that exact moment in the middle of a forest in god know where, while mocking a man who probably didn't even know where his own jutsu sent him, that Boruto Uzumaki swore the next time he saw Kawaki he was going to fucking kill him.

A/N: I live for reviews