CHAPTER I
ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ғ ᴀ ʟ ʟ
It was all finally over.
After six years, six long years of war full of pain, sleepless nights, and of gruesome battles.
It was all over.
But Victory is meaningless.
Nothing but ashes and the deceased were to be seen limp on the crowded heath. The clouds were muddy red as if they were mocking the lifeless shinobi who once walked the surface of their land.
The very few who survived such a catastrophe are the famous three known among their generation. Boruto, Sarada, and Mitsuki.
They were alive yet was it worth it? Their hearts were filled with despair.
Had their enemy loathed them so much, that they afflict such torment? Once considered heroes will now be legend.
Many periled along the 6 years of agonizing war. The memory was vivid but indeed tragic. The feeling of desperateness still present as if it only happened yesterday. Predominantly for the bonds and family of those fallen heroes.
However those who are left do not have the pleasure to choose to forget or not. They must live on bearing painful memories of sorrow, leaving those of history be lost by the flow of river called time.
And be remembered to be legends for the buds of the future to bloom.
But what is to be of the garden, if there are no longer any buds to bloom for tomorrow?
These are the thoughts that gathered in one Shikadai Nara, a member of the few who survived hardships along with his comrades. The lad staggered tiredly towards the blonde with blue eyes.
Eyes that were laced with the horrors of war. He placed a hand on the other, clinging and barely holding on. Boruto glanced a look at his friend. Neither of them spoke but their eyes were yelling of what is of their state.
Tired.
Visibly and endlessly tired.
"What.." the genius stuttered. "What now?" his voice that tried to remain intact, shattered like a glass that fell in the middle of silence.
The lad didn't know what to answer. because he himself was aware that he had fallen victim to the scars inflicted upon him.
A pang of enormous guilt was placed on his shoulders. He was the son of the greatest Hokage, the pupil of Sasuke Uchiha, a child that wields the eyes of the Hyuuga clan, yet despite all of that. He was a failure. An utter disgrace.
"Answer me Boruto, WHAT NOW?!" frustration laced in his voice, grabbing the other's collar.
"I DON'T KNOW!" his voice cracked.
The party stared, none of them knew what to do.
He saw it coming but dared not block it; a fist made contact with his cheek. The man of pineapple hair has lost all composure, launching one hit after another. Boruto let him, not fighting back.
They needed this. It might not be rid of all yet it might relieve the little tension they feel. Shikadai cried, all of his frustration came pouring out as he and Boruto exchanged fists. He felt helpless, all of them did.
A voice yelled, "ENOUGH!" The Uchiha spoke. "Fighting won't solve anything. You're both only adding to the damage inflicted on your body." She claimed, yet she knew full well that of why they felt like that.
Mitsuki watched from the side as Sarada proceeded to relieve the two, using her own chakra. Cho Cho stayed silent as she stared at the ground.
All were engulfed in bitter silence.
In the blink of an eye; they were all falling. taken aback yet given no time to counter react.
They were all falling into a dark abyss and eyes suddenly shot open.
To be continued...