There was a clacking of controller buttons.
"Soo...you and Sarada?"
Some shooting noises, and yelling in the background.
"Mhm?"
A grenade blew up their surroundings.
"Are you guys...hanging out again?"
More gunshots.
"Eh, I guess."
More clacking of the analog stick.
"Like...just as friends?"
Swear words over the headset.
"Yeah."
The Xbox was shut off. Boruto snapped his head over to Inojin.
"What was that for?"
"We're not playing anymore until you explain yourself."
Boruto fell back onto his bed with a loud, exasperated sigh. "What am I supposed to explain?"
Inojin folded his arms. "Don't play dumb. Did you get bored of Chocho again?"
"What? No," Boruto snorted, "we're long done." He heard Himawari's footsteps coming down the hall, meaning she was done getting ready. Boruto sat back up, thanking the stars he didn't have to try and explain his process to Inojin, who probably wouldn't approve anyway even if it was a good reason.
Himawari knocked then entered, beaming.
"You ready?" She asked cheerfully.
"Yep," Inojin cast Boruto one last glance, and left the room.
Apparently they were headed to some festive holiday activity at the mall. It was quite early for a cloudy Saturday, already being nine-thirty AM. Himawari must've wanted to be first in line since the mall didn't open until ten. Boruto turned his Xbox back on and rejoined the party once they finished up their game, resting the headset over his ears.
"Bro you totally left us!" Iwabee said.
"Sorry," Boruto readjusted the microphone. "Inojin had to leave. I'm about to get off, too."
"Where are you going?" Iwabee asked.
"Back to sleep, fuck you think?" Boruto yawned for good measure, then exited. "Later, guys."
Without waiting to hear their protests, he turned off the headset along with the console. He wanted to take a nap, then head over to Mitsuki's later. So that's exactly what he did.
Mitsuki had a pizza in the oven when Boruto walked through the door. He took a long whiff and sighed in content.
"You know me so well!"
Mitsuki smiled as Boruto slid up to the counter, setting his keys and wallet atop the marble.
"I have to run to the store to get some more groceries for when my dad gets home, do you mind coming with me?"
"Not at all, dude." Boruto scrolled through his social media absentmindedly. Chocho had posted a new selfie, his friend (that he basically considered his cousin) Shinki posted something about school, he watched some soccer highlights that popped up on his timeline, scrolled past some throwback pictures of girls in bikinis and some super nice foreign cars, then Iwabee had posted a total flex picture of his biceps, and Boruto commented on it. Wow bro youre so hot.
"Inojin was at your house this morning, right?" Mitsuki asked, readying his oven mitts as if he was nervous to reach into the oven. His antics were so strange sometimes but he was Boruto's best friend so he didn't care. As long as they could make fun of each other and not get offended, they were solid.
"Yeah, he took Hima to some Christmas festival thing at the mall."
"Does it feel weird that it's him?"
Boruto glanced up at his friend. Mitsuki was giving him a look that only they understood. The air between them became serious.
"I try not to pay attention." Boruto looked down at the counter, unable to maintain eye contact.
Mitsuki stared at his friend for a long time. The oven beeped, and he pulled the pizza out and set it atop the stovetop to cool.
"Does he ever act weird?" Mitsuki asked, still curious, but treading lightly.
"Surprisingly no." Boruto said.
Mitsuki raised a brow as he delicately sliced the pizza into triangles.
"Interesting."
"Yeah, but anyway," Boruto opened up his golfing game while Mitsuki handed him a plate. "what time is your dad coming home?"
"Late. I want to make sure I have his favorite foods in case he's hungry when he gets here." Mitsuki tried to hide his bashful smile as he spoke.
Boruto looked up from his phone and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It was precious to see how much Mitsuki cared for his dad, even though it was hard not to resent the fact that Orochimaru was gone frequently. Boruto wished he could be as caring of a son as Mitsuki, for when Naruto finally came home he barely glanced in his dad's direction. There were the unfortunate circumstances that his dad just didn't pay attention or put any energy into being invested. Naruto was stuck asking about Boruto's middle school football days and Himawari's elementary school piano recitals.
Of course, Mitsuki only let his emotions soften around Boruto – sometimes Shikadai – but kept them locked away from everyone else. From what the two had been through together, they were in this life together through thick and thin.
"You wanna go after we eat then?" Boruto asked with a mouthful of pizza.
Mitsuki nodded, slipping onto the barstool next to Boruto, his mouth practically salivating for the food. "Mhm."
Boruto laughed.
XxX
Mitsuki had made sure the whole fridge, pantry, and spices were organized. It was rare his dad would come home for one night then go back out for business. He wanted to be positive that his dad could easily find everything if he wanted to make a meal, or have a snack before he left in the morning.
Eagerly, Mitsuki waited at the counter, puttering around. To say he was simply anxious would be an understatement. His dad hadn't been home for a while, and Mitsuki had been working hard in school and wanted to really prove he was still working hard even with his absence. The report card was laid out nicely on the counter in case Orochimaru wanted to take a look at it and see how hard his son was working. All Mitsuki craved from his father was to be acknowledged. Orochimaru worked hard, and Mitsuki wanted to prove that he did too.
Moving from the counter barstool, to looking in the fridge, to the living room couch, Mitsuki soon found himself drifting off in a lightweight state of rest; the house deadly silent besides the occasional creak from the wind outside. It was so zen and peaceful, Mitsuki's mind began to dream. It wasn't until he heard the door unlock around two AM that he rose immediately. His heart pounded with excitement.
Orochimaru struggled through the front door, suitcases clattering behind him. Mitsuki brushed the crumbs off his pants and gently came around the corner so as to not startle him.
"Welcome home, father." Mitsuki said with a smile. Orochimaru looked at him surprised.
"Mitsuki, why are you still up?"
"I wanted to see you got home safe."
Orochimaru patted Mitsuki's head as he walked past. He could tell his father was exhausted. His eyes were dark and baggy, his shoulders were slouched, and his breaths were slow and exasperated. Mitsuki tentatively followed behind his father, glancing at his report card on the counter. He hoped Orochimaru looked at it.
"I went grocery shopping today, if you're hungry I can make you something–"
"I am exhausted. I'm just going to sleep; for I have to wake up early. You have school tomorrow, you should be in bed."
Mitsuki stopped in his tracks. Orochimaru walked down the long hallway to his bedroom and shut the door behind him without another word. Mitsuki's head dropped.
"Yeah...my apologies."
With one last glance to the report card, Mitsuki retreated to his room.
XxX
For one to describe Boruto Uzumaki as consistent was quite a laughable matter. He was grounded in the sense that he had strict boundaries and set opinions, sure, but to the point of changing his mind every day? Absolute madness. He was the consistency of applesauce. This past week was solid proof of that. Even taking into consideration his astrological sign accomplished nothing. Earth could still be unstable. He was more like an oscillating roller coaster full of twists, turns, surprises, and certainly loop de loops. Literally nothing could surprise Sarada at this point, especially when he walked into homeroom next Tuesday morning with the most piss poor attitude he'd had in a while.
"Forget creamer in your coffee this morning?" Sarada asked.
"More like the coffee itself." Boruto slumped into a desk in the front row while Sarada wrote Mr. Aburame's name on the chalkboard. There was a light blanket of fresh snow outside, so Boruto kicked the remaining weather off his shoes against his desk. "I'm fucked."
"Why?"
"I have an essay due."
"For what?"
"French."
"You mean the one that was due yesterday?"
"Yep."
"Serious?"
"Yep."
"And you didn't do it?"
"Nope."
"Boruto!"
"You know I'm bad at translating." Boruto whined, plopping into his seat. "It's the worst thing ever! I don't get language semantics. Why the hell are transitive verbs necessary? Just say 'I threw dog ball'. This shit is more complicated than it needs to be."
Sarada giggled. "Ooh, someone's frustrated."
"Well, I won't be, because you're going to write it for me."
"What?!" Sarada exclaimed, almost dropping the eraser still caked with chalk. "I'm not writing a whole paper in French for you! No way."
Boruto was offended. "I literally helped you with your entire math assignment."
"Yeah, and we went out on Friday and I repaid you with ice cream! Besides, I didn't ask you to help me, so therefore I don't owe you anything. You helped me out of the kindness in your heart." Sarada said flatly, and turned to the chalkboard. She heard Boruto's soft footsteps bad behind her, and she shook her head, a bemused smile on her expression. She began to turn around. "Boruto, I'm–"
He was suddenly dangerously close, and all the words disappeared from her mouth. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, one hand propped over her head, and she was flat against the board. Her heart was pounding and her face felt burning hot.
"Qu'en est-il de la gentillesse dans ton coeur?" He spoke smoothly, and Sarada tilted her head, pursed lips, a challenging smile on her face.
"Your pronunciation needs work."
He smirked. "I'll be over at eight."
The whole day had been filled with a giddy anticipation Sarada had never felt before. She was nervous, but why? It was just Boruto. They had been slaves to each other since the first day of school, nothing had changed. Yet, each time he would glance over at her in the middle of French class to catch her staring off into space which just so happened to be in his direction, he would wink, and it would send a transpiring mass of butterflies through her stomach.
It made no sense. Boruto was outright flirting with her now after declaring complete isolation and, to reiterate exactly what he said in the first week of November, "it's better for you to hate me. A girl like you shouldn't be close to a guy like me." Sarada called complete bullshit. He was toying with her. He had to be. No guy outright told a girl to stay away from him then deliberately chased after her a month later. Either he was mental, or this was some kind of prank. She questioned daily if how quickly they fell back into their "normal" was real life or if it was just a fantasy.
Regardless, Sarada kept her cool throughout student council, as it ended up being quite short and to the point as they had already taken down all the November decorations and hadn't started planning the Winter Ball yet even though it was in two weeks.
As Boruto left the room, he reminded her that he'd be over at eight, and she got flustered all over again. She was getting mad at herself. Acting like a little school girl with a crush was so embarrassing. Usually she was much more level-headed and logical than this. Having a crush on Boruto?! Never in a million years.
She had to shake it off and get over herself, she could never like someone like Boruto anyway. They'd always been mortal enemies, there was no changing that regardless of how much time they spent together or flirted with each other. She was being unreasonable. No sane guy went from declaring war one day to deciding the next things would just magically go back to normal. Is this what being delusional felt like, like when Chocho fell head over heels for Boruto in a single night? Or was Sarada overthinking everything? She really had to ask him what was going on in that head of his.
Pushing her glasses up her nose, Sarada grabbed her math textbook and met her uncle Itachi at the main entrance. Apparently, her nerves were apparent, as Itachi asked right away what happened. Sarada stumbled over her words.
"W-Well, Boruto needs help with a paper, so he's coming over later so I can help him."
Itachi gave her an all-knowing side eye, and she desperately tried to ignore him. Wow, stop signs and dead trees were so interesting.
"So, is this something new?"
"What?"
"You and Boruto."
"We're not anything. I think Chocho dumped him so he's just bored." Sarada was more trying to convince herself than Itachi. Although she had to admit, things had been different between them lately, she would never say that out loud.
"How did this happen?"
"Well…" Sarada had no solid answer. Boruto changed his mind so often they could be back to square one tomorrow. Who knew.
Sarada moved onto other matters, such as asking about Itachi's work, and he dropped her off. He wasn't staying tonight, for reasons he wouldn't disclose, but Sarada was grateful for the time she had with him.
Watching the clock felt like an olympic sport. Boruto had been in Sarada's house before, but her Uchiha was coming out and she was inspecting every crevice and fabric in the whole downstairs. Her mom dropped a single lone crumb from a muffin on the counter and Sarada hurriedly threw it in the trash and disinfected the area. It was ridiculous. Her dad was off somewhere to do business while her mom was watching her television shows in her room upstairs. Sarada supposed no boys were allowed in her room (she'd never brought boys over, so how would she know?) so thus she made the living room and kitchen as presentable as possible.
At exactly eight-o'-two, a knock rasped on the door. Sarada had been calming her anxieties by reading and listening to Coldplay, but in that three seconds all her self-soothing went out the window. Oh god. Did her hair look okay? She never cared about her hair before this. Her extensions were tangled, but there was no time to brush her hair now. Dear lord. She was a mess.
Sliding to the door in her sock-clad feet, she let Boruto in. He had on a windbreaker jacket and his cheeks were tinged red. Sarada looked out and didn't see a car drive off.
"Did you walk here?"
"Yeah! It's warm out."
Sarada's mouth dropped in disbelief, and Boruto cackled. "I'm joking. I brought my laptop." She snorted comically.
"Oh good. Do you want some tea?"
"Please."
"Chamomile or peppermint?"
"Peppermint." Boruto said, sitting on the couch and setting his laptop on his legs. Before he came over, there was an attempt to write his paper, but honest to God he had no idea where to start. Google translator was no help, and even the little owl from Duolingo threatening him to study was no motivator either. So, Sarada was his last resort.
"Okay, so what's your topic on?" Sarada asked as she brought snacks and two cups of tea to the coffee table and sat next to Boruto. He opened up his essay which had his name, date, and the title and a huge blank space beneath that. Boruto handed her a piece of paper that stated all the instructions.
"Explain how French has influenced art and culture around the world providing examples, direct quotes, and references. Three pages double spaced." She read.
"Can I just copy the essay you wrote?" Boruto drawled out. Sarada glared at him.
"No."
"You hate me." He whined.
"It's easy, all you have to do is write the essay in English, then translate it to French. You got this, come on."
Boruto let out a dramatic sigh. He read aloud as he typed. "The French culture is imperative in this society, most prominently in mine because without it I couldn't make my awesome lemon meringue pies." Sarada smacked him, and with a grin he kept going. "I am a gifted chef, I could be the next ratatouille."
"His name is Remy!"
"Same difference," Boruto said, then kept typing. "Without this culture, where would we be without crepes, mousse, and most importantly croissants? In this essay I will–"
Sarada was keeled over in laughter. Boruto stopped typing and chuckled with her.
"This is why I can't write essays!"
Sarada wiped away her happy tears and gathered her wits. "Oh god, I'm dying. What if you turned it in like that?"
"Hell no." Boruto laughed, then got down to business. He added in references to famous French art, quoting Napoleon, and soon enough the essay turned into a strong, solid paper. Sarada was colored impressed by his eloquent writing.
"Wow. You..."
Boruto smirked. "Now to translate this shit. La culture française est impérative dans cette société..."
"Try to add more of a smoother sound in française," Sarada instructed. "Like, you're saying friend and won at the same time."
Their play became business, and soon the whole essay was translated with Boruto smoothly reading each sentence. Sarada read over it to proofread and catch any grammatical errors, and soon there was a brilliant paper sitting in front of them on the screen.
"Truly genius."
Boruto beamed. "I'm smart!"
Sarada snorted. "So is she going to give you full credit on this?"
Boruto shrugged. "Probably not."
Sarada shook her head. Hopeless. It had been enjoyable, nonetheless. She had been adequately entertained watching Boruto take writing so seriously. Her nerves had significantly calmed, and both their teacups were empty. She offered to refill it, but it was close to eleven, and they had school tomorrow. So, with that, he put his shoes and jacket back on and slung his bag over his shoulder. Sarada frowned. She had gotten so caught up in the moment that she forgot to ask him why he'd been so hot and cold with her lately.
"Are you sure you'll be okay walking home? I can ask my mom to give you a ride."
"No no, it's alright. It's a five minute walk."
"But it's cold outside."
"I have to go." Boruto laughed, opening the door. She followed him out onto the doorstep. She shivered at the sudden cold. "I'll see you tomorrow okay? Thanks for helping me."
"Of course." Sarada said, and he pulled her in for their habitual hug. It was tight, warm, and eased all of her worries about him walking alone in the dark. She had missed this.
It appeared to have started snowing, as small flakes glistening and flurrying around them, reflecting the dim light casting tiny rainbows in every direction. It was an ethereal sight; Sarada felt like she was in paradise.
Boruto pulled away and just for a moment, they held each other's gaze. With Boruto looking at her like that, she felt a soft tingling in her chest that made her heart flutter. She had never felt this close to him before, and slowly, they gravitated towards each other. The lump in her throat ached, she could hear her heartbeat roaring in her ears, the snow still whirled around them, and a soft glittering light adorned the blues of Boruto's eyes. Boruto's long delicate eyelashes fluttered, and Sarada swore she lost her breath as their lips almost touched. They were so close…
A sharp gust of wind blew past them, immediately making Sarada jump with a gasp. She suddenly remembered she was freezing in a short-sleeve shirt, and Boruto wrapped his arms around her again.
"Go get warm." He said softly against her head. It didn't seem like a kiss to the forehead, but it sure felt like one the way her skin went cold when their contact broke. He smiled, and she went back into the house.
Sarada waited until he was on the sidewalk before she shut and locked the door. Her hands were shaking. One, they were freezing, but the other, the aftermath of her nerves was hitting her. Falling against the door, Sarada took a deep breath and shivered.
Maybe asking him all these questions didn't matter. What was more telling was being here in the moment – his actions and his words in the now; and that enough was confirmation for Sarada.
This was crazy. She was falling for Boruto Uzumaki.
XxX
Wednesday, Boruto was late to homeroom, and Mr. Aburame let him off with a warning. He slid into his seat, throwing his satchel on his desk. His dress shoes and the bottom of his pants were wet and damp, and Sarada vaguely wondered if he had walked to school. Not that it was very far – probably about a twenty minute walk from their houses – but Hinata always gave him and Himawari a ride every morning, or recently Boruto had been showing up with Shikadai in the newly gifted car he had gotten as a very late sixteenth birthday present.
Once break time came, Boruto dashed from the classroom, taking his bag with him, and Sarada's curiosity was severely piqued. He didn't seem skittish like he was in trouble – more like a busy bee. Even Inojin and Metal seemed intrigued, for they turned to her in question.
"How should I know?" She laughed. "You're his friends."
"He hasn't talked to us lately." Metal said. "He never hangs out with us anymore."
Sarada furrowed her brows. "Really?"
Inojin shrugged. "He didn't even come to our party last Friday."
Last Friday...that was when they went out for ice cream. They had honestly been there quite late, until about six-thirty, so he still could've gone to the party. The fact that he hadn't even mentioned it was strange. Boruto had always been the life of the party and wanted to be the center of attention anywhere he went, yet instead of going, he went out with her. Sarada didn't know what to think. But by the look Inojin was giving her, he knew exactly why Boruto hadn't been talking to them lately.
In the student council, Sarada was doing her homework amongst the other students waiting for Boruto to arrive. Suddenly, the door burst open, and he slammed a paper on the table in front of her. She jumped, but then read the red markings at the top. 82%.
"You passed?!"
"With some bribing." He grinned. "I may have made her a homemade French dessert this morning to really show how much I appreciated her accepting it late. She also said she added a point because the thing I said about Ratatouille was funny, apparently."
"Wow, good job!" Sarada looked over the paper. Only a few things were marked, but she was proud of him. Eighty-two was a good score considering he had everything going against him, but it turned out alright.
"Also," Boruto slid his phone to her, his music app open. "Here's my Winter Ball playlist, so tell me what you think."
Sarada scrolled through his playlist as others were doing the same. Picking songs that were top hits, but clean, but upbeat was hard enough, so that's what the council meeting was all about today. Boruto definitely had a variety of artists ranging from Usher to The Police, rap to country, and fast and slow songs. Sarada pursed her lips.
"Needs more Coldplay."
"Coldplay?" Boruto scoffed, sitting in the chair next to her. "I don't know much of their stuff, so you do it."
"Okay." Sarada said, adding a few of their more upbeat songs to the mix before she was satisfied. "There. Now it's perfect." Scrolling through the playlist one more time, she deadpanned. "You put Single Ladies on here?"
Boruto stared at her. "What? It's a good song."
She laughed, shaking her head. There was a silence that followed, and a question popped up in her head. She looked around to make sure no one was paying attention.
"Hey...have you stopped hanging out with your friends?"
Boruto blinked, and glanced around too. "What do you mean?"
"Like Inojin and Metal. They said they had a party last Friday and you didn't go, and that you haven't been talking to them lately."
Boruto shrugged, seemingly not wanting to talk about it, especially in front of the others. "Haven't been in the mood. Been busy with student council. After we went out, I didn't want to go to his party because he'd promised Himawari they'd hang out that night, but he bailed. I ended up taking her somewhere because she was so sad."
"Wait really?"
"Yeah."
"So...are you still iffy about Inojin then?"
He shook his head. "It's not that."
"Well, I mean like...I know you, so there has to be some reason."
"You know, Sarada," Boruto grabbed her face with both palms pressed flat against her cheeks. "you ask a lot of questions."
She huffed, offended, and Boruto laughed. He quickly switched roles, and gained everyone's attention. As a group, they went through the rest of the details about the Winter Ball, jotted down some decoration ideas, and turned it into the teachers lounge then headed to their lockers to grab their things.
Sarada noticed Boruto staring at his phone intently, and he then closed it without a word. She tilted her head, and he gave her a forced smile. Something happened...
"Your uncle picking you up today?" He asked.
"Um, yeah." Her tone was soft. It seemed like there was something else he wanted to say, but he just kept the same expression on his face. Sarada let out a breath. "Is...someone coming to pick you up?"
"Hm? Oh, no, I'm walking to Mitsuki's today."
Sarada gave him a look. "Well...do you need a ride there? You know, I don't want you walking in this cold all the time, especially since I've stolen at least three of your sweaters at this point. So let my uncle give you a ride today."
Boruto shrugged. "Alright."
Itachi's car was idling in the front. Sarada said something to Itachi first, and he leaned down and smiled at Boruto. Boruto, already being amazed at the car's exterior, got in the back, and was shocked. The interior did not disappoint. The seats were genuine leather, the top was customized, and it was impeccably clean. Sarada didn't even seem fazed that her everyday ride switched between a Ferrari, and today a Mercedes-Benz.
"Good to see you again, Boruto. It's been a while."
"Yeah," He said, still in awe with the car. "Aye, is this a G Class?"
"It sure is." He responded.
Damn. Itachi had money. Boruto's jaw was almost on the floor.
"That's insane." He kept admiring the inside. Even the way the car accelerated was impeccably smooth, and it seemed all too short when they pulled up in front of Mitsuki's house.
"You know, if you want to come over one day and look at my other cars, I'm sure I could let you take my Ferrari out for a test drive." Itachi said with a sly smile.
Boruto's entire demeanor lit up. "Serious? That would be so dope! I get my license on the twenty-eighth so Sarada you better invite me over!"
Sarada giggled, and Boruto said bye and hopped out of the car. Itachi then drove them to the Uchiha household.
"You never let anyone drive your Ferrari, not even my dad." Sarada nudged Itachi to the side as they walked through the door. He grinned.
"He seems like he'd take care of it."
"Who?" Sasuke walked out of his office. His car was in the driveway, so Sarada had known he was home, but the thought of telling him she and Boruto were hanging out all the time made her uncomfortable. Her mom knew, but she'd rather leave Itachi to take the unthinkingly blunt comments that were sure to follow.
Sasuke and Itachi's conversation continued into the kitchen where Sarada was sorting through her satchel. She had a pre-calculus worksheet, a French essay, four chapters to read in Pride and Prejudice, chemistry homework, and she had to pick between two color schemes for the Winter Ball, and it was only Wednesday. It was about five thirty, so she had to get started.
Most of the night was spent in her room drowning in homework. She got her easiest assignments done first so she could spend more time on math and chemistry so no time would be wasted. Around ten, she got a text from Boruto.
Boruto
You pick a color scheme yet? I'm feeling the blue and silver
I was thinking the teal and white, she responded.
Boruto
Those look like wedding colors. No.
Sarada smiled. It's supposed to be an equal vote
Boruto
Yeah well everyone who doesn't choose blue and silver is wrong
Yeah, whatever, Sarada sent back, laughing. Much to her surprise, he texted her again.
Boruto
Wyd
Homework.
Boruto
Boring but same
She didn't know what to say, so left it at that. Refocusing on her chemistry, her phone buzzed again a few minutes later.
Boruto
Wow leave me on read
I didn't know what to say, she sent back. He was funny.
Boruto
Well assuming you're still doing homework this late, you're stuck and you need my help
Sarada laughed. Such an egomaniac. She really didn't need help, memorizing the periodic table was a breeze, but she figured she'd play along anyway. Wow you'd be right.
Boruto
I suppose I could take some time out of my night to help you, out of the kindness of my heart
My true knight in shining armor.
Boruto
I'll be over in 10 ;)
Sarada stared at the text, then scrambled to tidy her room. Was Boruto even allowed over this late, let alone in her room at all? She didn't think so, but she didn't want to move all her stuff downstairs, and both her parents and Itachi were gone so it was fine if they didn't know, right?
Boruto called her once he was outside her house, and Sarada slid to the front door. When she opened it, he was wrapped in a light windbreaker and beanie, but his cheeks were still tinted pink from the cold.
"It's fucking cold out here." He deadpanned, and Sarada snorted.
"It's like fifty degrees."
He gave her a look. "Well for some reason, this is the only jacket I have left."
Sarada laughed nervously as he discarded his shoes and coat, quietly following Sarada upstairs. Her homework was scattered across her entire bed, and she shuffled them into a pile to make room for both of them. Boruto sat on her bed and took the textbook.
"The periodic table huh?"
"Yep. The one and only."
She offered to make him tea, which he accepted graciously, and Sarada went downstairs to make it while he went through the flashcards she had already made. Once she got back, he took a sip of tea then quizzed her. Truly, Sarada was brilliant and needed no help whatsoever. To be honest, it was more of a review for Boruto than any help for Sarada, but they made it fun regardless. He enjoyed being in her presence.
"How was Mitsuki's? What'd you guys do?" Sarada asked.
Boruto's expression fell. "Uh, he's fine I guess. I just went to check on him."
Sarada raised a brow. "Oh, is he okay?"
"I mean, uh, he just has a lot of family stuff going on. So it's kind of personal."
"Aw, I'm so sorry." Sarada frowned. "You're a good friend for checking on him."
Boruto shrugged. "He's my closest friend. I would take a bullet for that dude."
Sarada looked back to her homework, and picked her pencil back up. "Well, the next time you see him, tell him I care and hope he's okay!"
Boruto smiled brightly at Sarada, though she wasn't aware. He looped his arm around her neck and yanked her down, making her squeal in surprise.
Midnight was coming up soon. Sarada had finished all her math thanks to Boruto, although they had gotten distracted more than half the time either by talking, playing tic-tac-toe on her soft blanket, or showing each other funny videos. Each time Sarada had been the one to chide him for getting off topic then redirect them to what they should actually be doing. It was a good time, nonetheless, and their loud giggling hadn't disturbed anyone either.
"Shit, I gotta get going." Boruto said, coming down from laughter. "It's way later than I thought."
"Oh, yeah." Sarada said, and they made their way downstairs. "You walking home?"
"Nope. Teleporting." He said sardonically, throwing his arms into his windbreaker, with two other coats he had let Sarada borrow wrapped around his forearm. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Sarada grinned, and he mirrored her expression. Nerves were crawling up her spine and she didn't know why. Maybe because the last doorstep scene they had they almost kissed. Maybe tonight was the night she would get her first kiss.
Boruto pulled her in for a hug, and she reciprocated. Once he pulled away, he smiled softly, then slipped out her front door quietly, running off into the blustery night. There was a pang of disappointment in her chest, but she quickly dismissed it. First kisses were overrated, and she certainly didn't want Boruto to be hers...
Well, she tried to tell herself that as she crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her blushed cheeks.