Author's Note: Chapters will start to become more interesting as Sarada's powers are discovered in depth. I keep my ideas fresh, don't worry ;)
At this point, I am self-aware enough to know that I'm dreaming, or deeply engulfed into genjutsu. And, upon further examination, I am an insect on this tree, watching a moment from the past that include my mother and father.
They sat and ate, shared no thoughts, said no words; almost what I imagine dinner would be like if dad ever came home.
Suddenly, the tree stifles a vibration from an impact. I can feel it, traveling up my thin, twig-like limbs. I leap, and my wings flap instinctively, carrying me high into the air where I notice our Hokage in his preteen years, running in our direction, still off in the distance.
I discern that he is loud, obnoxious, sloppy. He tramples en route, clumsy and laughing; a shuriken is lodged into the tree between Sakura and Sasuke, inches away from their heads.
"I almost got you guys," He snickers, panting as he reaches the tree. I flutter near to catch every detail I can. I had imagined Naruto was foolish at my age, but not even close to this annoying. I could see my unimpressed expression mirror on my parents' faces below.
"You're late," They responded in sync. Sasuke plucked the shuriken from the tree, and pretended to toss it at Naruto; he covered his head and dodged, sheepishly peeking up, realizing his farce. Sasuke pocketed the weapon and walked away solitarily. "Idiot. Let's go."
I flapped these paper-like wings as fast as I could, chasing after my father. As I drift by Sakura, I hear her mention "Ah, what a beautiful butterfly."
I know then that I am not invisible. I realize then, any moves I make here may have repercussions.
"Sarada?"
What? Who's calling me? This was a voice that didn't belong to the others around me…. Who were quickly fading into encompassing shadows. I felt as if my very being was being stretched and pulled in every direction. This voice rang in my ears, repeating constantly.
"I guess it's time for some mouth to mouth."
My eyes snap open. They're met by Boruto, inches away from my face.
My heart palpitates. Boruto jumps to his feet with excitement.
"Sarada!? You awoke the Sharingan!?"
"What? No," I sit up and rub my sore, stinging eyes and quickly feel around for my glasses. After I put them on, my headache begins to dissipate. If Boruto discovered me sleeping, perhaps this was just some sort of lucid dream… "Why – What.. .what are you doing here?" I can't help but stutter in his presence. I'm going to assume it's the nerves from the recent out-of-body experience.
"You think you're the only one that likes to escape the city and hide from their family? Get real," He scoffs, plunking himself on the grass beside me. He stares at me, hesitant. I scramble to sit cross legged, picking grass out from my hair. "Hey, let me see that shuriken!" He gestures to the small weapon near my knee, diminishing our awkward silence.
"Sure, whatever," I flick it towards him. I can pull off being cool and complacent. Boruto grabs it and examines it with great curiosity. I can't help but get lost in his inquisitive azure eyes… Great, I can feel myself blushing. I shake it off. "I think it belonged to your dad."
"Huh, looks ancient enough to be. How do you figure that?"
Ugh, I shouldn't have let that slip.
"I don't know," I'm unsure if I should take the risk and try to explain it to Boruto, or if I should just keep this to myself. He looks to me, inquiring. I decide to evade complete honesty, so as to not sound entirely insane. "I found it in my dad's desk, near a photo of our parents. I figured it was one of theirs."
"Sneaky," Boruto raises an eyebrow towards me, and then whips the shuriken at the tree behind him, indenting it a few centimeters into the bark. "Hey, not bad." He clears his voice, his face reddening. "Anyways, my dad is having a dinner tonight; he has the evening off of work. Your mom was already invited; do you want to come by too? It will make it way less lame."
I stand and pluck the metal object from the tree, and I can't help but notice a notch very similar to it, albeit an inch deeper, close by. I run my fingers over the pit, and contemplate ways that this vision could have been accurate. I turn to him and nod curtly, joining him in a race back to the Konoha.
"Oh, hey Sarada, I'm glad you can join us," The Seventh Hokage shakes my hand vigorously upon greeting me. "Your mom isn't here yet; I think she was called for an emergency consultation at the hospital. But I know she will be soon! Come in!" He ushers me into their large home, decorated excessively with streamers and balloons. I glance at Boruto with furrowed brows, feeling confused and out of place.
"His birthday," he mouths to me, for his words would be inaudible with all of the music, chatter and noise through the house.
"Oh no, I didn't know," I cup my hands to my mouth, embarrassed to be present without a gift. Boruto shrugs. Knowing him, he didn't get his father anything either.
Naruto was a man of great responsibility; a noble Shinobi; a loving husband; a father… though, like my own, was too busy in his own endeavors to dote on his kids. He tries, I will give him that, but it isn't enough for Boruto, who craves his attention more than anyone and receives it the least.
I don't think Boruto knows how lucky he is, that he even gets to eat a meal at the table with him.
"Since you've been rather rebellious lately," Boruto grins at me, making me slightly uncomfortable but a whole lot intrigued. "Wanna go snoop around?"
"Snoop around where?" A small, indigo-haired girl pops between us, making Boruto halt. He turns to her slowly, narrowing his eyes. I could feel the sibling tension resonating.
"Himawari. Go."
"Sarada-chan is my friend, too," Himawari clings to me. My body stiffens in response. Boruto put his arms on his hips and growled, but Himawari just smiled up towards me. It's evident she is used to getting her way.
"Play nice kids," Shikamaru waltzes by and nudges Boruto in the head on his way to the washroom a hall over. He sighs, exasperated.
"Himawari, seriously, you can't say anything. Don't tattle, be quiet. We're going into the attic and we're keeping the lights off." I can feel Himawari shift beside me. "If you can't handle that, then go away."
"I'll be just fine," She says stoutly, but I can sense her uncertainty. Boruto and I exchange helpless expressions, and head towards the attic with stealth.
"You do know that Mama wouldn't like us up here," Himawari warns again, this time at the ceiling on top of her brother's shoulders reaching for the small handle to tug down and reveal the hidden attic.
"You do know that I really don't care," Boruto groans impatiently. "Just pull the door down so we can get in, quick." The door pulled down quickly with a moan. The three of us froze still. "Himawari, why don't you keep lookout?"
"I could do that," She squeaks, peering up into the dusty darkness above with a shudder.
"Okay, let's go," Boruto grabs my hand and drags me up the creaky stairs, into their enormous attic, full of all sorts of incredible looking heirlooms and boxes, slightly illuminated from the light creeping up from the stairs below. "And I'll close this!" He reached down and retracted the stairs, and we were surrounded by blackness.
"Now what?"
He brought his hands together, using his chakra to create a brilliant ball of light. Light cascaded on the walls, revealing…. Mostly boxes, and a few hangers full of old outfits, and a ton of junk. I'm not entirely impressed.
"There's a box of scrolls here," I point out, but he's not interested. He's dashing around, probably looking for some sort of weaponry…
"Whoooaaaa," I turn around and hurry to the box he's rooting through, only to discover it's full of women scantily dressed; some wearing no clothing at all.
"Oh my God." I can't repress the reflex to punch him in the back of the head. He chuckles dumbly. Men are ridiculous. I can hardly picture the Hokage possessing this kind of filth… But then again, according to my vision prior, I don't think Naruto is much like I figured he would be.
"What's this?" A large tapestry hung on the wall in tan textile with a painted, red Uzumaki crest on it. It was old, it was worn, and it was covered in the scent of dirt and moths. I ran my fingers along it, fingertips tracing every groove, rough and soft. I pondered of Boruto's grandparents, and wondered if it was made for them to hang in their home. Whatever happened to them, anyways?
Suddenly, I felt my innermost being stretched and heaved from my solid body. I went crashing to my knees, and reopened my eyes to a nursery before me. A bright yellow room, a solid wood crib, the Uzumaki tapestry hung behind it proudly on the wall. An infant wailed loudly, horribly, desperately.
I approached the sound, padding towards it on four paws. I ignored my oddity, encompassed in this vision and mystery. Color was difficult for me to discern, but I could make out that the infant was blonde, and was in just a diaper, unswaddled and flailing about on the firm mattress. I sniffed, my wet nose reaching the bars of the crib, catching the baby's attention. The crying ceased, and my heart almost did as well when the most familiar, beautiful blue eyes gazed at me. Naruto.
There's a loud bang behind me. My tail is set straight, my joints stiffen. "What are you doing in here?"
"Sarada!" That voice is in my ear again, piercing the veil of the hallucination. "Sarada!"
Boruto's arms are around me, and he's shaking me vigorously. I come to and vomit on the floor, falling to my hands when he releases me.
My eyes sting like salt in a wound. What is happening to me?