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It is a horrific thing to watch another person (more so, a teenaged male) stuck in your body. Conscious or not, a uniquely diseased male mind exhibits it influences. Gross, perverse, unhygienic, etc… all snips and snails and things that don't end well in the nursery rhymes her mom read to her as a child.
So when Sarada sees Boruto's hand sleepily scratch at her stomach, before working its way upward, she intervenes.
"SHAAAANAROOO!"
Himawari is convinced, then. She's keeping her money.
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Wham.
"You are an animal."
Whack.
The wall shakes.
"Disgusting."
Thwok.
"Animal."
Is Boruto (rather, uh, Sarada) possibly trying to kill her brother? Himawari, like the well-trained kunoichi she is, assesses the risk and retreats to cook breakfast and let this fight settle itself. She does, however, resourcefully pick up a small cheery card reading "Congratulations Dad!" on her way out.
Sarada's assault eventually slows enough for Boruto to garble out his confused indignation.
"Stop! … You…! Who are yo—aagh!"
The Uchiha stops her fist a hair's breadth from her target. She can't quite bring herself to hit her own face. "Weak…" she mutters under her breath, though the abused wall behind the bed shows signs to the contrary.
Silence settles over the room.
And, finally, Boruto breathes in a very female voice:
"You're me, 'ttebasa?"
The two look at one another, one astonished pair of inky eyes into a narrowed set of blue ones.
"I'm not," the now-blonde Sarada deadpans. "It's me, stupid Boruto."
No one said his name with that tone, except one lifelong menace.
As comprehension dawns, Boruto instinctively reaches up to protect himself, because the face (his face?) in front of him is full of unrelenting and definitely Uchiha fury.
In the moment his arms raise to protect his jugular, they brush against his chest and register something… soft.
Boruto looks down.
"D-Dude! I have boo—"
He never finishes his observation.
(Uchiha fury, and all that.)
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They finish breakfast in a dull sort of silence. Himawari tries to initiate a few times, munching thoughtfully and offering filler conversation of how, apparently, her brother and Sarada's bodies have been swapped, and, gee, isn't that interesting?
"Well, at least you can work on your relationship now. As they say, walk in another man's shoes…" the younger Uzumaki smiles, looking from one icy face to the other.
She clears her throat lightly, because while the kitchen table has become a cease-fire zone, it is most certainly far from peace.
"Dad's ceremony is at 2 in the afternoon, so don't be late, Nii-chan. He'll be in the tower until noon, so maybe don't go there and freak him out until then, yes?"
Boruto spasms a bit. It's kind of like a nod. Almost.
"And Sarada, your dad's coming, right? You'll want to see him there."
Sarada dips her head slowly. Boruto's face looks grim and ashy on her.
"I know! Before you leave, why don't we get you dressed in one of Boruto's outfits?" Himawari suggests in what she hopes is her mother's kindest tones. Alas, Himawari is as much her father's daughter as her mother's, and doesn't get it quite right. Boruto is about to scrunch his eyes and push back his chair in case Sarada starts rampaging again, but all that comes out of the Uchiha's mouth is:
"… I'll need hair gel."
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tbc
