Chapter 8
Boruto is late again.
Recently, minor issues began popping-up during his low-ranked missions. Which in and of itself wasn't a serious concern, but unfortunately, his father had a tendency to examine each and every single problem team seven encountered. Then came the disquisition on what actions could've been taken to avoid said problem(s).
Boruto hated the extra attention and was certain the other genin teams weren't interrogated in the same manner when handing in their mission reports.
Because of his father's nitpicking, he was certain his perpetual lateness would result in adverse repercussions with his could handle Sasuke's tongue lashing, but what he feared was cancellation of his training sessions. Under, the Uchiha's tutelage his strength and skills were growing in leaps and bound and it wasn't something he would voluntarily jeopardize.
"Wait for me, Boruto-kun." Sarada calls out as she tries to catch up with the yellow flash of lighting ahead of her.
"Hurry up. I am late."
Boruto slows his pace upon reaching the Uchiha compound. These are sacred grounds belonging to his master; therefore, the utmost of respect is required.
Sarada places a hand on her teammate's shoulder as she regains her breath. "I told you to wait for me."
"Why are you even coming?" Boruto replies impatiently, fully aware that Sarada isn't fond of these training sessions.
Standing up straight and breathing at a normal pace again, Sarada explains, "Mama asked me to deliver a message."
"Okay, then come on." Boruto grabs her palm, tugging her forward.
Sarada pries her hand away, "Where do you get all this energy from? I'm beat after our mission."
"How are you going to be Hokage if you can't keep up with a mere genin like me?" Boruto taunts. Accepting this as a challenge, she darts forward.
The clashing of wooden heels again asphalt reverberate through the empty compound. Sarada gains ground, surpassing a peeved Boruto.
Sarada is several feet ahead, near the unkept green and brown grass of the training field, when she comes to an abrupt halt.
Now at Sarada's side, Boruto asks, "Why did you stop?" Her face loses the exuberance it held a few moments ago. She doesn't respond to him. She just stares directly ahead.
Boruto follows her line of sight to find his mother struggling to stand on her feet. Though stunned to see Hinata in his master's compound, he immediately reacts by rushing to her side.
"Kaa-san are you okay?" Boruto places an arm around Hinata's waist to carefully pull her into an upright position.
"Thank you, Boruto-kun." Face flushed, Hinata steps away from her son.
"What happened. Why are you here?"
Hinata keeps her gaze to the ground. "I was sparring with Sasuke-san."
Boruto assumes the crimson painting her cheeks and the slight quiver in her voice are simply a result of exhaustion.
With his attention initially honed in on his mother, Boruto momentarily failed to register the other adult on the training field. Glancing downward, he is surprised at his master's physical condition.
"Did you do that, Kaa-san?" Boruto asks in bewilderment, unable to tear his eyes away from the thin, bloody slit running down the length of Sasuke's throat.
"Tsk," Sasuke responds in annoyance. Groaning, he attempts to pull himself off the ground to no avail.
Grinning from ear to ear, Boruto returns his attention to his mother. He is about to tell her how proud he is of her ability to take down the infamous ex-avenger, but her dishevelled appearance devours his ability to speak.
Similar to the man on the ground, her hair is tousled and face smeared with blood and dirt. The major difference between the two adults is in the bodily damage incurred. Fresh, bloody slashes and grazes litter his mother's torso and arms. Her shirt is tattered beyond repair, exposing more than Boruto knows she is comfortable with.
Boruto quickly slips off his jacket to place it across Hinata's slender shoulders.
"Thank you." Hinata softly mumbles as she stumbles forward.
"Let me help you." Hinata waves off Boruto's offering.
"Go ahead with your training. I'll see you home for dinner." Hinata stiffens her knees to hide her limp.
"Help your mother home." Sasuke instructs.
"I'm okay." Hinata pipes back.
"Well, I'm not." Sasuke grunts. "Did you forget that you fucked up my leg. I can't train him right now."
"I'm sorry. The effects of the Jyuken should wear off soon." Hinata says through gritted teeth. The adrenalin from the battle begins to wane unmasking the signals of pain traversing through her system.
Following his mother as instructed, Boruto nervously confirms, "Tomorrow then?"
Boruto takes the absence of a response as affirmation that their regular training routine will resume the next day.
"Sarada, go help your dad." Boruto tilts his head, wondering why his teammate is still rooted to the exact same spot. But concern for his mother's wellbeing trumps this mild curiosity. He mentally notes to question Sarada's unusual behaviour tomorrow.
Sarada is familiar with the widely held belief that 'nothing can be hidden from the eyes of a Hyuga.' Today she believes the absence of Boruto's maternal dojutsu is more of a blessing than a curse. For ignorance is sometimes bliss.
Given the automatic resumption of Boruto's lighthearted disposition, Sarada is certain he missed a few crucial details of the unexpected encounter between their parents.
With confidence, Sarada knows that Boruto didn't notice the light purple blotches trailing down his mother's neck or the way her bra had shifted to expose the base of her generous breast. At the age of thirteen, she has enough knowledge to know that these visible signs of aggression are not exclusively the result of a sparring match.
Sarada observes her father struggling to find his footing. Loathingly, she admits he is still graceful even with an immobile calf.
Retrieving his sword, Sasuke uses it as crutch to move toward Sarada.
He stops when they are side by side. "Why are you here?"
Sarada flinches at her father's callous tone. "Mama asked me to tell you that she will be home for dinner tonight."
The two feet of distance separating parent from child is not enough. Sarada steps further back, desperate to be as far as possible from the man who is her father.
"Come." Sasuke orders. "I'll take you home."
"I'll walk." Sarada heads toward the direction from where she entered.
Seemingly unbothered, Sasuke uses his portal to return to his marital home.
"You're finally home and just in time!" Sakura chimes as she busily sautés and stirs the pots on the stove.
After washing her hands, Sarada takes a seat at the dining table. Her eyes dart to the floor when her father takes a seat at the opposite end of the table.
"Dinner is ready!" Sakura announces. "Sarada help me prepare the table."
Grumpily the young girl removes several plates from the cupboard. Dishing out rice and her mother's attempt at curry, she drops it onto her father's placemat. Some of the curry spills, leaking through the fabric and onto the wooden surface.
Sarada picks at her food, while her mother jabbers on about her week at the hospital and the exciting birth of Lee-sensei's baby.
"Is the food okay, Sasuke-kun?" Sakura questions, insecurity plastered over her face.
"It's delicious. But I need a bit of salt."
"Sarada, get your father the salt shaker." Rolling her eyes, Sarada nosily scrapes the chair against the floor and marches toward the kitchen cupboard. Discreetly she loosens the metallic cap of the shaker before returning to the dining room.
"Here you go," Sarada slams the glass bottle on the table.
"Thank you," Sasuke shakes the glass bottle above his food. The entirety of the contents spill onto the table and onto his meal
"Ohhh no!" Sarada exclaims in feigned concern. She turns to return to her seat, but a strong grip heeds her movement.
"Sarada!" Sakura's voice rumbles low and deep. "What's gotten into you today. Don't you see I am trying my best for us to have a nice family dinner."
"He's not family." Sarada spits. She extracts her mother's fingers off her arm.
Emerald eyes widen in rage. "Young lady, apologize to your father."
"It's fine, Sakura." Sasuke begins to clean up the spilled salt.
"It's not fine! Show some respect to your father." Sakura warns, fists balled tightly together.
"Why is he even here, mama?" Tears blur Sarada's vision. "We don't need him."
Sakura places both palms on the dining table and uses it as leverage to slowly rise. "He is my husband and your father. He has every right to be here."
"Why can't you see that he doesn't want to be here. He doesn't care about you or me. He prefers spending time with the Uzumakis than us."
"Stop this nonsense! Apologize now!" Sakura bellows.
"No. You're blind when it comes to him, mama. He's not a good pers-" fists crash against hard wood, ceasing Sarada's desperate attempt to pull the wool away from her mother's eyes. The dining room table splits in half, spewing the contents across the dining room.
Sarada's body trembles in fear noticing the look of pure rage on the usually docile face of her mother.
Hoping to calm her mother down, Sarada whispers, "Mama, please don't be angry with me."
Not wanting the confrontation to escalate, Sasuke intervenes, "Sarada, go to your room."
Her fearful gaze turns outright venomous. "I wish you never came back!" Spinning on her heels, she darts to her bedroom.
In the anime, Sasuke has repaired his relationship with his daughter. But I have a hard time believing things went that smoothly and they are a picture-perfect family now. But would love to know if you found this portrayal believable or OOC.
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