It was early morning when Sarada entered the locker room, an herbal tea in hand, instead of her usual coffee. Her gaze cast down at her shuffling feet, avoiding her colleagues and their judgment. Despite managing to get rid of all the bad food she ate the night before, shame and paranoia weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Her head ached worse than a hangover and her throat was sore, but she couldn't let that show. If she wanted to be chosen as the next prima ballerina, she had to keep up this poised and perfect facade.
Sarada slipped into the changing room to get dressed. White tights, taupe leotard, and a matching chiffon skirt. She deposited her bag into her locker before making her way over to the vanity to anxiously inspect her appearance. Her eyes were rimmed pink and slightly puffy from crying, but there wasn't much she could do about that, so instead, her palms smoothed the sides of her raven hair, making sure none had escaped her slicked-back bun.
In the reflection of the mirror, she spotted Boruto already looking back at her. But instead of being embarrassed for being caught staring, he offered her a smile and walked in her direction.
He planted his hand on the surface, leaning against the vanity counter. "Don't tell me you've worried yourself sick."
His voice was hushed and his tone was casual, but that didn't make her any less alarmed.
"What?! What are you talking about?!" Sarada asked urgently, eyes wide. There was no way Boruto could have figured out what transpired the night before.
His hand reached out to touch her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her. "Whoa, whoa. It's okay."
No, it was not okay if Boruto knew what she did last night!
"Why'd you say that? What's that supposed to mean?!"
Boruto stood up straight, clearly caught off guard by the overly emotional reaction she was having to what he thought was a harmless comment. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be insensitive. I just… I mean, you seemed pretty stressed out last night. And now this morning you're drinking tea instead of your iced coffee…" his voice trailed off as her gaze fell to her hot tea.
Sarada acknowledged maybe it was an odd choice considering the warming weather, but still how and why did he even notice?
"Let me start over," Boruto sighed as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "How are you feeling this morning, Sarada?"
"I'm fine."
Clearly, he didn't buy that after the way she just freaked out. "Did you get enough sleep last night?"
Sarada narrowed her eyes at him. Was she really so easy to read? She hadn't slept a wink. She had been too busy desperately cleaning her entire apartment, discarding any reminders of what she had done.
"Are you saying I look tired?" Sarada deflected and crossed her arms over her chest.
Boruto caught his face in his hands as he shook his head, clearly feeling frustrated that his words were not landing as he intended. "All I'm saying is I worry about you."
"I keep telling you I'm fine. Now if you'll please excuse me, I need to stretch." She brushed past him into the studio, unsure how to feel.
The concern he expressed for her felt unwarranted, it felt undeserved.
She took a deep breath as she made her way over to her usual corner, exhaling any thoughts of blue-eyed distractions. After yesterday's rehearsal with Tsunade, it became painfully clear that the selection process for the company's next prima ballerina would be brutal. She had to be at the top of her game.
Sarada lifted her foot to rest on the barre, leaned forward, and reached for her toes. But the familiar pull of her muscles wasn't enough to divert her attention from the quiet whispers of her colleagues.
Shameful thoughts prickled at the back of her mind, telling her they were talking about her. Like Boruto, they could tell something was wrong with her. They were disgusted by the way she over ate last night and how she forced herself to get rid of all of it. Such behavior was unbecoming of a wannabe prima ballerina.
Sarada scrunched her eyes closed, trying her best not to cry when suddenly shrill giggles cut through her intrusive thoughts.
Dark eyes peeked to the side to find Eida standing particularly close to Boruto as she asked him for help on a move she most certainly already knew how to do.
"Like this?" she asked with feigned shyness.
"Yeah, exactly," he nodded.
"You're such a good teacher," Eida purred as she touched his arm and batted her eyelashes at him.
Boruto sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "I don't know about that one," he chuckled. But then as if he could feel her gaze on him, he glanced in Sarada's direction.
She immediately jerked her head away as a blush consumed her cheeks, embarrassed at having been caught watching their exchange. She switched which leg was on the barre, realizing she had lost count on her stretching after her attention had drifted to him. She breathed deeply to recenter herself as she leaned forward.
Sarada desperately wanted to focus on her warm-up, but couldn't help but roll her eyes at the sound of Eida's exaggerated gratitude. Was this her plan to pursue Boruto? Act like a novice? That didn't even make sense.
"Yeah, of course. I'm always happy to help," Boruto told her before he walked over to claim his now usual spot beside Sarada at the barre.
He didn't say anything as he began to stretch, but when Sarada dared to glance at him from the corner of her eye, he was already looking at her. "What?"
"What?" he echoed.
She shook her head, deciding to drop it. "Nothing."
To Sarada's surprise, Tsunade didn't say anything during their rehearsal. She sat in the corner, observing and taking notes on her clipboard. And then got up and left a few minutes before rehearsal was dismissed.
As the dancers dispersed and began talking amongst themselves, it became clear that Sarada wasn't the only one that found Tsunade's silence equally as terrifying as her brutally honest critiques. Everyone was itching to know what she had written. Was it possible any of her notes were positive?
With the summer program on the horizon, all the girls were on edge, wondering just how long it would be before they chose the next prima ballerina.
Would it be decided through daily evaluations? Or would there be a formal audition?
The lack of information made Sarada nervous, but the very least she could do was practice. She'd work on perfecting her skills and demonstrate to Naruto and Tsunade (and the rest of the company for that matter) how badly she wanted the role.
It wasn't long before the rest of the dancers had all but cleared out of the studio. Their rehearsal had been tough and everyone was terrified to be lacking in Tsunade's presence. Sarada assumed they would all go home to rest, roll out their muscles, or ice their sore feet, but she decided she still needed to practice her turns.
The only other who lingered in the studio was Boruto. "Hey, uh, sorry if I was being weird this morning," he mumbled, his eyes struggling to meet hers. "Do you mind if I stay and keep rehearsing with you?"
Sarada's brows rose at the question. He must have really thought she was upset by his earlier comments because he had stopped asking if he could stay after the second or third time they practiced together.
"You can stay," she nodded, weirdly relieved to see the smile return to his face.
Blue eyes glanced around for a moment as if just noticing the lack of music. "Were you going to practice in silence?" he teased.
The accompanist always left after their usual rehearsal, but Sarada would plug her phone in and play classical music from the speaker. However, she couldn't today.
"My phone is dead," Sarada confessed with a sigh. Between last night's ordeal and her frantic cleaning, she forgot to plug it in to charge.
"Good thing this can't die." She was surprised when Boruto crossed the room and sat down at the baby grand piano situated in the corner. His fingers gingerly brushed over the keys and she realized he wasn't bluffing.
She took a few steps in his direction, her hands clutched at her chest. "You know how to play piano?"
"Just a little bit," Boruto hummed, blue eyes glancing up at her.
Sarada inched even closer until her hand was able to rest on the shiny black surface of the instrument. Her voice was small but hopeful. "And you'll play for me?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked with a humorous smile and began to play.
Her dark gaze was fixed on him, mesmerized by the movement of his fingers gliding over the keys. The tune was simple, but a nice tempo to rehearse to, and certainly better than silence.
Boruto was such an enigma.
Handsome and talented. Observant and thoughtful. He seemed to enjoy helping those around him, but sometimes it felt like he particularly wanted to be helpful to her. For what reason, Sarada still couldn't place.
"Were you going to dance?" His question disrupted her trance, allowing her to lift her gaze to meet his. The way he smiled made that fluttering feeling return to her chest and her ears turn pink.
"Oh, uh, yeah." Sarada backed away into the center of the room, giving herself enough space to practice her turns.
The summer sun was beginning to set as they stood in the locker room, quietly packing up their respective bags. Sarada wet her lips, feeling the urge to say something to Boruto, but she just wasn't sure what.
Should she apologize? He had asked to stay late to practice with her but ended up only playing the piano instead.
"Hey…" he said softly.
Her breath hitched in her throat, wondering what he might have to say, but when she dared to turn around she found Boruto still facing toward his locker, his phone pressed against his ear.
Sarada couldn't help the way she deflated. Of course, he wasn't talking to her. What did she even expect him to say?
He probably felt sorry for the gloomy girl no one else talked to or maybe he thought she was the one in the company that needed the most help…
Sarada shook her head with a sad sigh. She was so stupid.
She was about to leave when his tense voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Okay, but what does that mean?... You're fucking kidding me," Boruto grumbled into his phone as his fist banged against the metal locker. "Yeah… Yeah… No, I understand. I'll figure something out."
He hung up and dropped his phone into his bag with a tired groan. Sarada watched him for a moment as she squeezed the strap of her duffle with uncertainty. "Uh, is everything alright?"
"Not really," he sighed. "That was my landlord, some pipe broke and now there's flooding in my building, and of course, that includes my apartment."
"Oh."
"Yeah, he said they're working to fix it right now, but the repairs could go late into the night and they aren't sure what units they'll need to access to solve the problem. So I have to figure out somewhere to stay for the night."
Sarada's brow furrowed together, imagining the answer was a no-brainer. "Why don't you just go stay at your parents' house?"
Her confusion deepened at the way his body seemed to tense at the suggestion.
"Um. I can't stay there," Boruto responded cryptically. "I'll probably just get a hotel room or something. I just worry about how much this whole ordeal is going to cost me."
Sarada fiddled with the edge of her skirt as she observed his woeful expression. Something stirred in her chest as she suddenly felt compelled to help him. Maybe it was because he was always expressing his concern for her, despite how often she brushed him off.
"You could stay at my place," she offered, her voice small and a little shy. "I mean, if that helps at all."
"Really?" his blue eyes lit up and her stomach did a nervous somersault. "It wouldn't be like too much of an imposition?"
Sarada nodded.
"Are you sure?" Boruto questioned again as if he needed extra confirmation. Dark eyes blinked at him, puzzled by the way he was so quick to offer help, yet so hesitant to accept the help offered to him.
"Yeah, I'm sure. My couch is pretty big and comfortable, and we'll be coming back here together early tomorrow morning. It's not a problem at all," Sarada reassured him.
He surprised her when he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "Thanks," he mumbled against her hair. "I owe you."
When Sarada invited Boruto to her apartment she was only thinking about showing compassion to a friend in need. But as they stood on her front doorstep, she rummaged through her duffle for her keys and began to fear he might judge her space, or her furnishings, or literally anything.
"Um, sorry if it's like a mess…" her voice was small as she pushed open the door and he stepped in behind her.
Sarada flinched when he immediately began chuckling. What?! What was funny about her apartment?!
"A mess?" Boruto questioned with a quirked brow. "You've never lived with a guy have you?"
"Um, no…" Sarada didn't quite understand the connection. Was her relationship inexperience apparent from her apartment? Is it because her decor was so feminine?
"Anyway, uh… this is my couch," she said, gesturing to the big white sectional that occupied her living room. "You can take a seat and I can make us some tea."
"Oh thank you, that would be really nice."
As she began boiling water in her kettle, dark eyes darted around her kitchen just to triple confirm there was no evidence she had eaten at Thunder Burger the night before. The kettle soon whistled and Sarada poured the water into two matching mugs, the same soft pink color as all the accents in her home. She dropped a tea bag in each allowing the color to seep out into the steaming water.
She returned to the living room with a hot mug in each hand. In her absence, Boruto had taken the liberty to plug his phone into the far outlet on the wall. "I hope camomile is okay."
He stood with a smile, accepting the tea from her hands. "It's perfect, and thanks again for letting me stay here, I really appreciate it."
"It's no big deal," Sarada told him with a shake of her head. She glanced at the clock, finding it was still a bit early for those who didn't stay up all night the night before. Was she obligated to entertain him?
She wasn't sure, but she sat down anyway. Boruto followed suit, sitting down on the opposite side of the plush white couch. They both quietly sipped at their tea.
Desperate to fill the silence, Sarada awkwardly searched for something to talk about. "So, uh… where'd you learn to play piano?"
"My mom actually started teaching me when I was little. Piano like mom, ballet like dad." A soft smile tugged at his lips as his gaze fell to his hands fiddling with the handle of his mug. "She went to the Senju School like my dad did. That's actually how they met, ya know?"
She quietly nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"My mom never danced, but she had always enjoyed watching, so she volunteered to be the student accompanist for the ballet classes. The way she told it, my dad had always been this bright star that was larger than life, so for a long time, she just admired him from afar. But one day she gathered up the confidence to ask him if he would help her with her senior project, where she would compose a piece for him to dance to. Over the weeks working on that project together, collaborating, and sharing their passions with each other, they fell in love."
What he was describing was so sweet, and yet, there was a sadness, a longing in his tone. Sarada recognized that look in his eye. It was the same look she had when she thought about wanting someone to fall in love with her dancing like how her father did with her mother.
"Is that what you want… for yourself?" she dared to ask.
Boruto replied with a light shrug. "I mean, yeah. Isn't that what everyone wants?"
Her gaze fell to her mug in her hands. Sarada had always longed to be adored, to be the source of inspiration for another. "Yeah."
Sarada wasn't sure when her eyes began to grow heavy, but when she woke the next morning from the sun spilling into her living room windows, she was still laying on the opposite end of the couch from Boruto, their feet tangled together under the blanket that they shared.