Darkness took hold of his senses as he succumbed to its bitterness; with gritted teeth and a heaving chest, the boy collapsed to his knees on the soft earth. His adrenaline still pumping through his veins vehemently, which dulled the inevitable pain soon to come. Owls hooted stoically and crickets chirped harmoniously, but this summer night was not one of bliss or peace for the boy. In an exhausted effort, he removed his distinct foxlike, scarlet, and ivory mask as he placed it respectfully to his side. Infuriated he was of his blindness and his separation from his patrol team. For he was not blessed by the omnipotent eyes of his mother, his were a youthful cyan that mimicked his father's fiercely. They were eyes that would not help him see in this dense forest with an impenetrable, inky night that had already fallen across the horizon.
The adrenaline abandoned him without apology, and air whistled through his teeth as he gasped frighteningly in pain. Convulsing, palpitating, his heart was ramming against him ribcage. It was straining to breathe, much less hold his weight on his knees as he collapsed altogether. Cold grass tickled his ears as he lay upon his back looking up to the starry sky. Reaching for the source of the pain, he had found it. Not one, but two kunai had pierced his chest deeply. He felt his ghostlike hand upon the hilt of the one closer to his heart; the blade had disappeared within him completely.
His lungs burned, he coughed to have some relief; a spurt of blood flew from his mouth as he gritted his teeth in anger and agony. To have come this far, to finally have become an Anbu through years of rigorous training just for his body to fail him now… an insurmountable disappointment. Telling his body to stand was not good enough, for it did not obey. Surging some of his last chakra didn't help in this endeavor either, for he needed it to focus on his wounds. Moving around would only worsen his condition.
There was a metallic screech and radio interference that squeaked by his side, his earpiece had fallen when he himself had,
"Hotfoot! HOTFOOT! Are you there?!" It was Konohamaru-sensei, his Anbu squad leader. Aching with blood coming in rivulets from his mouth, he winced a smile at his codename. The affirmation of his determination and hard work.
"HOTFOOT! DAMMIT YOU BETTER ANSWER ME!" This time it was Sarada. Slowly and quivering, his bandaged hand wrapped around the earpiece as he lay it by his face, his icy locks falling across his face in surrendering wisps,
"I'm…I'm," it was no use, the blood frothed at his lips as he spat a mouthful off to the side. Speaking was impossible in his condition.
"Dammit! I should never have left you alone with that bastard!" Konohamaru growled, "We're coming to find you kid, just hang on!" It wasn't entirely his sensei's fault, for he himself had convinced him that he could take on that rogue ninja by himself while the others continued on the mission of reconnaissance near the border between the village hidden in the leaves and the land of lakes. There had been stirrings of meaningless slaughter on the roads that had turned treacherous for merchants and farmers. That rogue ninja lay in a heap by an oak tree dead, his knife skills the likes of which the boy had never seen before. Knives that could slice through his rasengan without any resistance, and swat shadow clones like backhanding flies. They of course couldn't have been normal kunai, their seals were some that even the Fourth Hokage would jealously envy. It was eventually the combination of the boy's shadow clones all manifesting rasengans simultaneously that was the rogue ninja's end. Before he fell to death's embrace, two kunais fell from flicks of his wrist that pierced the air ferociously before savagely cleaving the young boy's chest. One near his heart, one near his right kidney.
A coldness captured his whole body in an uncompromising grip, a numbness consumed him. His headband was soaked in sweat as it rested upon his forehead, his insignia of Konoha reflected the starlight hopefully. Wandering, his mind seemed to leave his body. He did not fear death because he knew death. But he hadn't a clue how death felt, if he had to imagine what it was like, this was a close calling. Images emerged and faded in equal measure. He thought of his baby sister who had just made it to Chunin. The ceremony for her would be in a week. Frozen he was and so to bring back the warmth of the summer, he imagined her as a baby. When he first held her, she simply radiated warmth like a small yet powerful flame flickering from the rosy pink blanket that swaddled her. Focusing on that seemed to help him so he tried to recall all and any warm memories to fill his being. He thought of his tenderly sweet mother tucking him into bed when he was younger, and hot dinners at Ichiraku ramen with his toothy, smiling father. Sarada came to his mind with her raven hair; he remembered the first time he kissed her and the warmth that flushed his cheeks and bubbled his core.
To his astonishment, his feeling was coming back; a once mind and soul that disbanded now collided back together companionably. It's not today. I am not ready to die. Not today. He thought to himself. He began to feel the pain once more and grateful for it he was because it meant he was alive. It meant he would see another day. Relief's venom capsized him, for he would see his sister's celebration, hug his mother, laugh with his father, and kiss Sarada in the future. And that was worth the pain and suffering that ripped through his center relentlessly in this moment.
A pleasant, balmy breeze flowed through the forest's clearing where the boy lay, and with it came a familiar presence. He was still unable to speak, or offer a greeting. He heard his Anbu mask being handled as the stranger gently laid it upon the boy's lap. Surprise took him when he felt the arms that carefully wrapped under his back and his legs as he was lifted off the ground in an equally painstaking, thorough manner. The stranger held the boy in such a secure nature to his chest that it didn't pain him despite the movements. In a single leap, the stranger flew upwards into the trees as he seemingly frolicked through the canopy at an incredible speed accompanied with equally incredible chakra control. Although not able to see through the darkness, a small smile took his lips that this stranger came all this way for him. The graceful leaps through the canopy lulled the boy sleepily, he knew he was safe. His chakra began to come back to him, allowing weak words to escape from his blood-stained mouth,
"Why?...How?" He had to know why he would come all this way, when he knew Konohamaru would have found him eventually, Sarada too. How could he have found him in the first place?
"Shhhh," the stranger whispered softly, "In my being, I knew you were in trouble. I can't explain why or how, but I did. When a son needs his father, it is a father's responsibility to find them, wherever they may be. It was your chakra that lead me to you, and I am grateful for that."
More familiar figures were leaping through the canopy by the boy and his father's side,
"Thank goodness you're alright, Hotfoot," Konohamaru-sensei spoke as he sighed in relief.
"Boruto!" Sarada exclaimed as she leaned in to try and see his condition, she was amazed he was still alive, much less awake.
"I'll be fine," Boruto grimaced as his wounds flared angrily, it diminished as fast as it had come, for Naruto only held him tighter. He could hear his heartbeat through the Seventh Hokage cloak. "I'll be fine, because my father came all this way for me."