A/N: Summer is here! I've got a few weeks before my summer job is due to start so I may linger around a bit longer.

WARNING - If you have not read What Might Have Been, this chapter might come as a bit of a confusion so I'd strongly advise you to at least skim over parts of it.


Boruto, in general, was an individual who was firmly grounded in the present, never dwelling on the past for too long. Granted, this probably stemmed from the fact that child-rearing and homemaking required one's constant attention, providing very little respite for prolonged contemplation. Anyhow, there were not very many things that Boruto needed to linger upon. So far in life, he had not had any major regrets. In fact, if he had been given the choice to relive his life to its current point, he would probably do things the exact same way. All in all, at the age of 37, Boruto considered himself a happy man with a wonderful wife and a wonderful family.

There were fleeting moments, however, when his mind returned to the strange days, weeks and months that his team spent in that alternate universe. It was certainly an odd experience. Everything was so different, so absurd and yet not impossible when one plunged into further reflection. The thoughts it provoked can be a little disconcerting at times. Imagining his father-in-law as a iron-fisted dictator ruling over the entire continent was weird, given Sasuke's contented grandfatherly attitude (except when Keisuke tries to dye his hair) and more measured optimism and wisdom, which contrasted with his counterpart's turbulent internal world and bleak cynicism. Boruto remembered how the man was plagued with power and the agony that came with it, plagued with the decisions and sacrifices he made, plagued with a certain calculated madness. Instability. Nevertheless, in spite of all Sasuke's flaws, Boruto cared about that man - and, gradually, that man came to care about him as well. They developed a bond, a profound relationship of recognition and understanding that made the world a better place.

He wondered how that Sasuke was doing now.

Their last encounter was shortly before the man embarked on a solitary exile from the terrestrial world. He had been condemned to wander amongst various planets and patches of existence, tasked by Sakura with searching, scouting and eradicated threats like Momoshiki and Kinshiki. It seemed like an awful fate, one that Boruto prayed no one else would ever be subjected to.

Boruto never really told his children about that particular episode of his life, not even when little Keisuke begged for more stories and he realised the depleted state of his creative juices. Neither did he share much detail with his other friends Shikadai, Denki, Iwabe, Inojin etc. He could never really put a finger on what was holding him back. Having Sarada and Mitsuki as well as his family (sans most of the Hyuuga clan, for obvious reasons of not wishing to traumatise aunt Hanabi and grandpa with the knowledge) for confiding was more than enough anyway.

It seemed so long ago and yet most details remained vividly lodged in his head.

He had dreams about it, dreams of all sorts of shapes and sizes. He dreamt that he was a member of Hi no Ishi, struggling through smoke and ash. He dreamt that he was Sasuke Uchiha, the Hokage, looking down at his dominion. He dreamt that he was Sakura, now a co-president of the newly established Republic, submerging himself in policy details. He dreamt that he was a random civilian, toasting to the Hokage's health. He dreamt that he was an industrialist building trains. He dreamt that he was a political prisoner. He dreamt that he was an orphan, whose parents had been taken away by the authorities. He dreamt.

And then one night he had a dream that he knew was special, unprecedented, far too real to be just a dream.

~X~

Stairs. A thousand steps downwards.

He rushed past an older vendor selling some big blue fruit. He broke up, rather apologetically, a kissing couple.

He was a little boy again, running through the streets at night. The buildings around him were decored with colourful lanterns and posters of casinos, harlots and intriguing substances.

Sekai no Hashi.

A stopping site, a suspended city between worlds. Cosmopolitan, vibrant, exciting and infested with what some may deem as decadence. (Boruto had a far more nonchalant attitude towards it all.) The sky was purple, green firecrackers sizzling through one's vision.

He was holding a scroll. It was very important - the old man had told him so. The dying old man - bleeding from all his knife wounds and burnt from his neck down - who had begged him to take it to the Wanderer.

("It could destroy millions of lives, even eradicate entire populations or species. Our melting pot of harmony is at risk of being disrupted and destroyed." The words were accompanied by an abundance of coughing. "It contains the final instructions to a recipe of a weapon. The Ravagers are after me, they tricked me into concocting this. Told me... never mind. Give this to the Wanderer. Only he can save us all, if his reputation is really as many claim. You'll find him in the Festival of Light, in a stall that serves a strange cuisine called ramen. Here, I'll give you the remains of my fortunes. Go! There is no time!")

They were closing up. If they did, he could kiss goodbye to ever returning to his mother and baby brother.

[Wait, what baby brother? Just how- ]

His feet were laced with chakra, though the experience was draining. It was as if he had just figured out how to do this and his chakra supplies were woefully inadequate to support his abilities.

Kakko. His name was Kakko.

No.

It had to be something else. A flicker of doubt briefly flashed through his mind.

He looks to the left; he looks to the right.

He gazed into a puddle. His purple skin matched the skyline. His tuft of red hair fluttered in the wind.

His eyes were still as blue as ever.

[Just what was going on?]

[No matter, there was a job to do. Just do it.]

He had reached the ramen stall. He coughed, took a deep breath and belted out the words, "One bowl of Tonkotsu Ramen please!"

While the kindly creature - it appeared to be male, though its skin was green and it had three eyes and was considerably more petite that what the average human - made his ramen, his eyes surveyed the place, keeping a lookout for someone known as the Wanderer.

The Wanderer. He had heard stories about that mysterious man. His feats were legendary, or so Makko, ever the exaggerator and storyteller, said. He was able to single-handedly summon giant rocks from space and flatten mountains. He was able to revive the dead. He was able to conjure deadly black fire. He defeated the dragon that devoured children, who had previously lived below the plane of Sekai no Hashi. He rarely stayed at the same place for more than a moon, though Sekai no Hashi was an exception. He had been to places far and wide, possessing the ability to create portals. He used to be the Sovereign of a plane of existence, or so some insist. Most thought he was more myth than man.

There was a hooded individual who quietly ate on his own. Boruto elected to sit next to him.

"Sir," Boruto asked the kindly stall owner who had just handed him his food, "I was wondering, have you ever heard of someone called the Wanderer?"

There was a tense movement beside him. A slight shift.

"Well, they say he is here. But personally, in my opinion, he sounded more like a figure from an old wive's tale. Too... strange to be true. Perhaps he existed, perhaps he did not. I've certainly never met him," the owner mused on and on, "That's not to say I wouldn't want to."

"Consider that done then," the hooded figure said as he showed his face, giving both of them a small smile. "I'm afraid I don't look very impressive."

Purple eyes with concentric circles. A solemn expression. Some things never change.

Sasuke.

They had met before. Many years ago and many worlds away.

Boruto Uzumaki. He was Boruto Uzumaki when they met. Not little Kakko.

Who was Boruto?

[It is I.]

He was no boy, not literally at least. He belonged to Konoha. Husband to the Hokage, loving father of four, distinguished retired jonin.

"Sasuke," he whispered.

The man turned towards him, sending him a look of perplexity. Then the eyes narrowed. Suspicion, caution, a calculation of threats, an assessment of actions. His hair was greying, wrinkles were forming in his skin, but he looked as sharp as ever.

"Have we met?" Sasuke gazed at him rather... pensively. Perhaps it had been ages since someone addressed him by his name.

Boruto - no Kakko ignored the question.

[The scroll. Give him the scroll. Don't forget.]

"This is for you," Boruto remarked while handing it over, "An old man wanted you to have this. Something about the Ravagers I guess. It sounded bad."

"I see," Sasuke replied in understanding. Then his expression quieted, as if plunging into deep thought. "It's about sowing seeds for a racial war isn't it? They're racial supremacists of a kind, I imagine. They want to displace the Sovereign's rule. Sorry, I'm not an expert on the affairs of Sekai no Hashi. I've been here about ... eleven times - none of them particularly lengthy stays."

"Man I'm no expert either. Politics makes my head hurt," Boruto said, instinctively scratching his head. He always hated it when Sarada discussed political intricacies at home. Something something the daimyo of the Land of Earth. Blah blah blah.

"Well, kid, I thought that cracks in Sekai no Hashi's racial harmony was pretty apparent, given the recent riots. No?" Sasuke asked, curious.

"What riots?"

"They happened two... three years ago?"

"I was younger then."

"Yes, it would be unfair of me to expect remembrance from you."

Silence.

"So... how are you doing?" Boruto found himself asking.

An enigmatic smile.

"Not too bad, not too good either."

"You like ramen?" Boruto tried to look for conversation.

"Not particularly, but it is so rare for me to find food that reminds me of home."

"Where are you from?"

"Earth. More specifically, this village, no city, called Konoha." Sasuke pointed to his old headband, the one with a scratch in the middle, the one that Boruto had given him years ago. "We're quite isolated from the rest of the worlds. Then again, so are the vast majority of the worlds. This place seems to be the exception, not the rule."

"I see."

"By the way, how did you come to know my name?"

[A dream. This was just a dream. There was no need to lie in dreams. No use in pretending.]

"My apologies," Sasuke quipped as he stood up and held the scroll, "I have a task to attend to at first. Don't worry about what you see."

He activated his Mangekyo Sharingan and set the scroll ablaze with black inferno. It was consumed within seconds.

"The flames of Amaterasu..." Boruto noted.

Sasuke raised his eyebrows.

"That's not common knowledge here. You an avid reader?"

"Oh heck no. It's just... we have met before. We may have met before. I think."

"Very well."

"There's also people chasing me by the way. I managed to lose them for a bit but I don't know how far back they are."

A kunai flew near him. Boruto ducked.

"Your reflexes are not bad," Sasuke mused. "Sorry I just wanted to confirm something, a gut instinct perhaps."

"Boruto Uzumaki," Boruto said. "I... don't know why that name came up. Sorry, I'm being weird."

Sasuke smirked. "How many levels are there in Dinner Dash?"

"99," Boruto replied from memory. "It's dumb I know. No clue why they didn't make a level 100."

"Interesting."

"I think I'm dreaming. I'm not Kakko but I'm also Kakko. I'm Boruto but I'm also not Boruto."

"I... have no remedy for that I'm afraid. Then again, you have survived alternate dimensions, planes of existence, haven't you?"

"Heh. Yeah. Glad to see that you're not completely alone out here."

"I manage."

Angry voices.

"They're here," Sasuke said dully. "Excuse me."

"I can help," Boruto offered.

"No. You're chakra levels are already very low from excessive usage - when one takes into account your current state, that is. Boruto, I thought that after all these years you'd be a little more careful with yourself. I'll be back in a minute." He rushed out of the stall.

Screams of agony. Cries for help. Voices begging for mercy.

"Well that was quick," Boruto huffed as Sasuke returned.

The man shrugged. "They're not dead by the way, just incapacitated by a genjutsu. Law enforcement would arrive soon."

"Your task, this whole thing with the Ravagers, it isn't over is it?"

"Evidently not." Sasuke sighed as if he was used to similar conundrums.

"Everything's going well back home. I married Sarada, who is the current Hokage of Konoha. We have four kids so I'm basically a stay-at-home dad slash community organiser slash retired jonin at the moment. Just... wanted to give you some updates I suppose," Boruto explained in a slight divergence from their previous topic of conversation. He did not know whether this was the last time something like this could happen. "Also their names are Itachi, Eriko, Asami and Keisuke. They-"

"Itachi..." Sasuke said the name with a wisp of sadness.

"Yeah. Sarada named it after the uncle she never got to meet."

"And the rest of the kids, how are they?"

"Well, Itachi's the most well-behaved one. He's also a jonin now. Graduated top of his class. Eriko's a loud troublemaker, kinda like my dad I guess. She defaced the Hokage monument fifteen times. Asami's a bit quiet and shy, kind like my mum when she was little, according to dad. Keisuke is Keisuke. He can be quiet deceptively obedient. He replaced dad's ramen noodles with worms once."

Sasuke burst out laughing. "Now that sounds like an experience." Boruto wondered whether he was playing out imaginary scenarios of being the grandfather to these kids, brats or whatever one should call them.

"Yeah." Boruto grinned. "I plan on going back to work after though. Being too domestic has apparently made me an excellent nagger and control-freak, or so my sister says."

Sasuke's lips quivered with amusement. "That must be something to witness."

"Yeah," Boruto answered before saying, "This is really really weird. Am I like possessing a kid's body or what?"

Sasuke shrugged. "You tell me. There are some mysteries of the world that I will never know."

Sirens blazed outside as footsteps came closer and closer.

"The police are here, Boruto. I'm going to tell them what happened. You, meanwhile, are going to head back home with that cash. Best not traumatize the boy's mother."

"But I have no idea how to."

"I'm sure you'll find a way." A smile. This time, unlike their past encounters, it was not laced with pain or anger or fear or guilt. It was genuine and content too. Strange that the words content should be associated with the man in front of him. "Farewell."

"Bye." He got up from his seat and made his way through the streets.

When he reached the next corner, his world went black.

~X~

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! You promised me you'd take me to watch a movie!" 8-year-old Keisuke was jumping all over his bed.

"Dad! You promised us!" Eriko lunged onto the bed as well and crashed into him.

Asami smiled rather apologetically at the door.

Boruto got up and stretched himself. "Very well then, a movie it is."


A/N: Hope you guys liked this!

Did Boruto and Sasuke really meet? Or was it only in Boruto's dream?

I honestly don't know what exactly inspired this chapter. There are touches of fantasy and ambiguity here and there I suppose. I've always wanted to explore the implications of dreams and how they interact with reality.

What really happened? What did you guys think of this?

Please leave your thoughts and comments in the review! It would mean the world to me!