a/n: i wish i myself knew the concrete reason that caused the 5-week difference between my uploading of this short fic to tumblr and its eventual appearance here, but either way, i hope you all enjoy! congratulations to all sasusaku + naruhina shippers—we made it!
Uzumaki Boruto was a curious boy by nature.
His bright blue eyes always, always pooled with earthly wonder for all to see, and it made his mother smile each time she looked at him. Every glimpse of her grinning boy reminded her of his father in his youth.
Likewise, Uchiha Sarada had been an inquisitive girl since birth.
She had inherited the intelligence and skill of both her mother and father. She was quick-witted and a gifted student—in short, her parents' dream.
— i. at first glance, they knew they would not get along.
They fell not far from the tree dubbing them 'childhood friends' but although they spent much of their earliest days together due to their parents' interconnected friendships, their relationship was, at first, rather strained and hard to keep up with. Sasuke often overheard Sarada telling her mother of the other boy's incessant chatter and mischief, as Boruto constantly complained to his own parents that all the raven-haired girl did was read and train.
'He's an idiot, Mama, I swear… Are all boys like that?'
'She's terrible, and when I try to talk to her, she acts like I don't even exist—!'
— ii. at second glance, they became rivals.
Despite their initial dislike of one another, fate conveniently had other plans for the pair, and they often found themselves partnered up at the academy, during sparring sessions, during group work, and even during lunch on some days for reasons they could not explain.
(And needless to say, the air was often thick with never-ending choruses of 'Aburame-sensei!')
They ticked each other off: both were naturally gifted at combat, and so evenly gauged against each other. Boruto was strong and steady, and the same tricks that were his father's came to him as easily as breathing. Sarada was quick, precise, and able to exercise seamless control over her chakra that enabled her to send the boy flying, again and again.
They were a nearly perfect match.
And it frustrated them endlessly.
— iii. at third glance, they finally initiated friendship.
It all happened so quickly and yet painfully, painfully slow. It was their team's first mission together, a simple C-rank, and Sarada walked ahead of her two teammates, with brisk footsteps to carry her. The forest was thick and sunlight spiraled in ribbons above their heads.
Boruto had just spun another terrible joke as he often did, and Sarada found herself scoffing in mock-amusement from her position a few paces forward, before a concealed tree root caught her off guard. Her eyes widened, but she froze mid-air before she could collide with the dirt floor beneath her, left hand caught securely by a certain laughing blond-haired boy.
'I didn't know you found me that funny, four-eyes,' he teased.
'Tch.' She rolled her dark irises as far back as she could, skin glowing red. 'As if.'
A few steps later, the boy jogged ahead of the group, arms spread out wide as if he were imagining himself as a plane soaring through the clouds, and Sarada almost smiled at his naivety.
'…Thanks, Boruto,' she said quietly, and she never quite found out if he had heard her.
— iv. at fourth glance, they were natural; he was a curious boy and she an inquisitive girl once again.
Almost daily, he set out in the afternoons for a new round of pranks, and she always followed. Despite his obvious burning interest, he eventually stopped questioning why she accompanied him after the first few times she showed up, learning to simply go along. 'I'm keeping you out of trouble,' she usually told him, in a stern voice that hinted that the conversation ended there. 'Nothing more, nothing less.'
And yet, she tended to join him each day, without fail. Although she never actively engaged in his shenanigans, Sarada would hold the extra bucket of tomatoes for Boruto to pelt at incoming strangers, the additional rolls of toilet paper he hadn't gotten around to tossing just yet.
Of course, she'd yell and threaten him as she kept at his heels, but the sky usually faded with the ringing echoes of their laughter.
It was another one of those days, and a bucket filled with pepper-red paint sat in the hands of the young Uzumaki as he bore a mischievous grin. An exasperated sigh sounded from behind him as Sarada's eyes darted from the boy to the swirling bucket of blue in her own grasp.
'Stop it, will you?' she called, raising her voice over the sound of her friend's chuckles as he set fire to the Hokage Mountain with flaming scarlet ink for the umpteenth time that month. (She had tried to count, she really had.) 'Your tousan's just going to make us wash it all off…again!'
'Stop your worrying, will you?' Boruto shot back, momentarily swiveling around to poke out his tongue.
Sarada took two steps forward and whisked the half-empty bucket from his grip, provoking a pitched yell from her companion. He grimaced, showing teeth, but surprisingly leaned back and regarded her with a look she couldn't quite pinpoint.
(He did that often. It infuriated her.)
A strange smile then erupted onto his youthful features, and both of Boruto's hands shot forward, fingers easily stealing her glasses right off the bridge of her nose.
Sarada yelped in reply, blinking rapidly, but Boruto remained strangely silent. Even with her vision blurry, she could make out his gaze searching her, studying her.
'…Hah, cute,' he murmured, and a jolt of lightning ran through her body.
— v. at fifth glance, sarada dropped the buckets of paint to her feet, made a fist, and sent the poor boy flying.
'Shannaro—!'
a/n: please, do review!