Three years later...
Sarada is currently on a mission with ChouChou, Inojin and Shikadai as leaders and realizes that their relationship is very complex and that they really do make a very harmonious team.
She also sees a very peculiar aspect of Inojin, but according to her mother, it was no surprise that she was there.
Inojin liked to engage in arguments with ChouChou and repeat any remarks of the girl with a sarcastic mockery. They were both attracted to conflict because they enjoyed the exercise. There was no winner, just to be able to post the best or worst possible comments.
And to be able to hit the head with ChouChou's sharp tongue, Inojin was really good.
"Bad pig gene on that bastard Sai, Sarada," her mother used to say.
At night, after preparing the mat in the tent where ChouChou is already sleeping, Sarada lights the fire and watches the blonde scratch the pillow with a piece of coal. She doesn't know what she was drawing, but she was driven by curiosity.
Shikadai also sleeps, rests until his watch changes happen, so Sarada goes to Inojin and watches the drawing. She finds it amazing how she can create such laborious traits with a shard of coal, but her admiration is replaced by surprise when she realizes he has portrayed her at its best with a burning field with a fireball. He drew soot on her face, but she never thought it was as pretty as it was in the photo.
He notices that Yamanaka is uncomfortable with her discovery and tries to reassure him by praising the project.
He offers it to her, and Sarada thinks of refusing, claiming it is his, to which she replies:
"I can do a lot more like this." Every day.
He does not know what to say, because it may be natural that the Uchiha does not know how to behave in the face of such mixed feelings.
But Inojin had been staring at her for too long, and for Kami! he is really beautiful, almost unreal and his skin is like linen, and although it causes weirdness, Sarada thinks it's the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. He draws her effortlessly and she almost groans that it's not fair.
Sarada doesn't need to do this anymore as he comes close to her face and kisses her. His kiss is like a delicacy she has never tasted but always craved and doesn't care about her own inexperience as it doesn't seem like he cares.
This is her first kiss, and even that night it wasn't her last.
He says he could better draw her in his studio and she understands it's an invitation. By the way, the invitation is accepted.
...
At seventeen, Sarada is already the elite ninja of Konoha.
Her family has an undisputed reputation and is a source of pride to her parents, the Hokage, and the village.
She enjoys watching her parents behave. His thoughtful father becomes more and more sympathetic each time he looks at his wife with devotion. And her mother, who always talked to her about love, lived every day what Sarada learned.
Sarada loves them very much and knows that they love her as much or more than she does.
"Uchiha love too much, I learned it throughout my career from their father, this love is strong, inevitable and burning. You understand that already, because you've seen how things are with your father in relation to us and the village, and we told you about your uncle. So be careful because the love the Uchiha feels is a great responsibility - her mother said kindly.
Sarada went to Yamanaka's house, although she knew that Ino would be holding a girls' day with her mother, for which the young woman flatly refused.
Her visit at home had a different reason.
About six months ago, Sarada was Inojin's secret model. I mean face model. They were hidden, after all, art was not the only interest of both of them in these meetings.
As usual, the girl took off her wool coat and sat on a stool in a white studio with the floor covered with old newspapers.
Inojin prepared the inks. The process Sarada loved first, because the way he made it into a ritual was very beautiful, just him and the brushes as if they were an extension of his hand. And there was still a dilution of them in a solvent, turpentine.
She loved it because it was the main ingredient in the young painter's signature scent, and although she didn't know why, she wanted to smell it forever.
The truth is, Sarada did not know how long their eternity would last. There were no official reports, and ChouChou didn't know about them, though he ventured some insinuating comment. It was still Boruto. Her bond with him strengthened over the years, and while the Uchiha couldn't pinpoint exactly how deep the relationship was, people suggested a possible relationship between the Children of Team Seven. And Inojin never accused him of anything, never even mentioned it.
A thoughtful young woman interrupted her friend's work more than her friend to ask:
"Inojin, what am I feeling?"
The boy dropped the brush used to mix and help dissolve the paints and came face to face with the Uchiha. His gaze was merely curious and nothing more.
He approached her slowly, his gait measured and it reflected his personality. Seemingly unaware of the girl's ecstasy, he ran his hands over Sarada's shoulders and inhaled the air near her neck.
She stood with half-closed eyes and a pensive expression until she said:
- Soot.
Sarada didn't even try to hide her shock. Of course, he expected something different, not a banal analogy, as his admirers did, but Inojin was totally exaggerating. Even his father, for whom romanticism was practically antiquated, had already said that his mother smelled nice like a cherry field that she remembered having died some time ago. I wasn't expecting a romantic response, but the soot sounded too offensive.
"W-what?
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, Inojin explained:
- Do not get me wrong. It's just that you smell like someone who uses the cathone element a lot. Well, you're an attacking ninja, you live in the heat of battle, that's probably why. This is not a bad thing.
Sarada brought her face close to his and whispered:
"What then?"
The ninja closed his eyes for a few seconds, smiled discreetly and replied honestly:
- It is exciting. In many ways.
He didn't have to formulate anything else.
Because it was so with both of them. A spark accompanied by soot touched the turpentine and everything exploded. No dialogue, they didn't have to.
Not when Sarada ran her hands over his chest, all the way to his shoulders. Not when she smoothed their faces. Not when she kissed him.
Inojin can only answer and kiss her even more intensely.
Sarada moved her hands everywhere, and the boy followed her.
Clothes immediately fell to the floor, they didn't have time to worry about it. And when their nakedness was present, they parted.
They watched shamelessly as if every body was a work of art and they were spectators.
Black hair, onyx eyes, pink lips, firm breasts, a nonexistent tummy and a feminine center.
Golden hair, aquamarine eyes, thin lips, chest and belly defined, though not convex, but with something softer and lower, erect phallus.
She, a beautiful doll. He, a baroque sculpture. They kissed again, hands took bolder paths.
He put his hands under her breasts as if her breasts needed support. She wanted to caress his member, not hiding any innocence, went straight where he wanted. He knew his perverted self was his mother's legacy, and Inojin seemed to like it. So now I wouldn't deny it.
Inojin put her on the ground, only the newspapers did not let her feel the cold on her back. He kissed her again and whispered how beautiful she was because he loved to say it. Then he kissed her neck, shoulders, and collarbone until he reached her breast.
He sucked and groped and bit her breasts, pink nipples, as if it gave her more pleasure than anything else. Then came the tummy's turn, until he was there, in his favorite place, as he had once thought.
He kissed it there and sucked hard, making a noise because he knew he liked to listen. He touched her clitoris with his teeth and tongue, and stuck two fingers into the girl.
She moved in spasms and groaned loudly, tugging hard on his hair, calling his name between gasps.
Inojin loved it, loved it when she stepped out of the ordinary and broke down until she got back together.
As Inojin got up and came face to face with Sarada, she held her breath at the wild look. He was disheveled, his blond hair falling over his face, he looked like he was going to eat her. And that's what he would do
She remembered the drawing he'd made on her a few months ago on a mission, and how she looked like a primitive warrior, an accomplished hunter, and understood what he meant by her scent.
- Soot, Inojin. Now I understand. I'm soot and you are turpentine. Can you dissolve me? Please...
He knew what that meant.
He rose to her, kissed her lips, forehead, cheeks, hair and entered her.
Sarada let out a greedy groan and followed him. The pace was good enough to pull them into it, and they seemed to be talking in between moves.
Until the boy turned and sat down without leaving her. And let her guide your movements. For him, her pleasure was first, he put himself second if that meant she could get the best possible performance and Sarada knew it. His mother always commented that Ino had raised her son to be a prince.
- Is that how princes love each other?
She didn't know if the two really loved each other, but defining what they were doing as sex or sex would definitely reduce the act.
It was a discovery.
Sarada got up and fell on him, on her way to ecstasy. She didn't want to stop at all, she was almost there, almost until she died.
Just a little more ...
Until she felt her body go volcanic. It was so strong it could tear it apart and maybe that's what she wanted the blonde girl to put it together.
She screamed his name in orgasm and fell in his arms.
Inojin carefully pulled it out of him so that he could come out of it. Stimulating with his hand, Sarada exhausted next to him, the boy also reached the top.
After a while, lying side by side, not thinking about anything other than the conversation between their bodies, they dressed, exchanged simple smiles, and set to work on the new painting.
"Maybe ... one day ..." He took a deep breath. "Maybe one day I can paint your body naked.
She was surprised but smiled. Because she would like them both to have different options for doing different things.
They knew it wouldn't be forever. They were very alike and conspired against any longing for romance they might have.
They knew that one day he would find someone who would be his opposite and who would complete him.
They knew that perhaps one day the bond that connected her with the young Uzumaki would tighten and they would both build a trajectory together, uniting their parents even more.
But at those moments, Sarada and Inojin didn't care. Because in those moments they were eternal.