When Sarada arrived at the ballet studio that morning, her dark eyes unconsciously scanned the locker room to find Boruto. She had yet to hear from him since he went home after rehearsal yesterday, and she was curious about what came of his flooded apartment.
Realizing he must not be there yet, she sipped at her iced coffee and slipped into the changing room. With her thoughts focused on Boruto, she didn't allow herself to linger in there and worry over her appearance any longer than necessary. After dressing in a black leotard and matching leg warmers, Sarada pulled open the dressing room curtain, expecting Boruto to have arrived by then (he was usually as early as she was).
But he was still nowhere to be found.
When she walked into the studio to start warming up, she spotted a crop of blonde hair sneaking out the door into the back hallway. An unexpected smile stretched across her lips at the sight of him. Itching to talk to him, Sarada quietly followed after him.
Nestled between a fire exit and the company's vast costume closest, the back hallway was a quiet, low traffic space, so finding Boruto leaning against the wall with his phone pressed to his ear wasn't too surprising.
She bit her lip in contemplation, if he was busy, what she wanted to ask could wait. But before she could head back into the studio, he pulled his phone away and pressed a button to dismiss whoever he was talking to. His blue eyes blinked at her expectantly.
"I'm sorry," Sarada murmured with a shake of her head. "I didn't mean to interrupt your call."
"I actually wasn't on the phone," he replied, shrugging off her apology. But when she looked confused, he added, "I was just listening to a voicemail from my mom."
"Oh?" Her heart clenched at the sweetness. "Do you talk to your mom every morning?"
When he glanced down at his phone clutched in his hand, Sarada feared she embarrassed him. So she decided to spare him and quickly change the subject. "Well, I just came out here because I wanted to see if everything was okay with your apartment."
Boruto nodded as his gaze lifted again to meet hers. "Yeah, it's fine now, they were able to fix the issue. And thankfully the flooding in my apartment was concentrated in the kitchen so I didn't have too much damage."
"That's good."
"Thanks again for letting me stay the night at your place. I…" he hesitated and glanced away shyly. Sarada unconsciously held her breath at the way his cheeks seemed to grow pink.
Nothing happened between them that night, and yet sleeping beside each other on her couch had felt oddly intimate.
Or maybe that was just all in her head.
"…I'll make it up to you," Boruto promised.
He seemed almost sad, or maybe it was guilt, which felt unnecessary to her. The favor really was minor, barely even an inconvenience. In fact, Sarada rather enjoyed his company. "You really don't have to worry about it," she said, trying to reassure him. "That's what friends are for, right?"
"Yeah...friends."
Sarada didn't understand his pained expression and the sudden awkwardness that filled the air between them. Maybe he really hated the feeling of owing people? But she didn't know what more to say to comfort him.
"I'm going to go stretch, but I'll see you in there?"
"I'm right behind you," he nodded. Sarada turned and sauntered back toward the studio, trying to shake off this odd feeling and missing the way blue eyes watched her walk away.
It was several minutes before Boruto came back into the studio wearing a grin on his face that felt a little too forced.
Sarada observed him from the corner where she stretched, puzzled by the peculiar shift in his demeanor. It was like when he was in the studio, in front of others, he was so bright, smiling and always offering to help others. But that brief glimpse of him in the back hall suddenly reminded her of what she saw in his eyes the first time they met.
It was something heavy, if not a little somber.
With a deep breath, Sarada pushed herself deeper into her center split and questioned, why? Boruto had every reason to be happy. He was the principal dancer of a prestigious ballet company. With his ability and his looks, he was sure to attract fans after their summer performance.
That's what he told her he wanted, right? To have someone adore him the way his father had been adored by his mother?
Unless admiration wasn't the part he was after?
She glanced in his direction again, only to find he was already looking at her. A shy blush crept over her cheeks as she quickly looked away.
The same thing continued to happen throughout rehearsal. Honestly, it started happening before that day. It almost felt like every time she looked at him, Boruto was already looking back at her.
With the ongoing prima evaluations, Sarada was already on edge, hoping to prove herself worthy in Tsunade's eyes. His persistent gaze only served to make her more nervous. Especially being that he didn't seem to watch any of the other girls as intently.
She self-consciously smoothed down the sides of her hair as Tsunade called the girls up individually to watch them dance across the floor. With her clipboard at the ready, she seemed to write only a few short notes after each. Next, she called them out to watch their fouettés.
When Sarada stepped aside after her turns, she made her way over to where Boruto stood. Her brows furrowed together at the way he unabashedly watched her.
"What?!" she asked in a harsh whisper, looking down at herself like she couldn't imagine what he found so fascinating. Was there something on her face? Was she messing up and he was laughing at her? "Why are you always staring at me?! If you've got something to say, then say it!"
"You're beautiful."
The breath left her lungs. That was the last thing she expected him to say. "What?"
A gentle smile tugged at his lips. "Is that really so hard to believe? I think you're beautiful. The way you look. The way you dance. That's why I can't take my eyes off of you."
Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as dark eyes darted around searching for a response. "W-Well, cut it out."
Sarada internally cursed herself for stuttering, but something about his unwavering blue gaze made her nervous.
He finally looked away as he muttered, "no promises."
After rehearsal was dismissed, Sarada snuck into the dressing room as her chatty colleagues slowly disbursed. She plopped down on the bench with a sigh, taking a much-needed private moment to collect herself.
The miniscule changes in Tsunade's expression gave absolutely nothing away about how she felt about anyone's ability. Without any verbal feedback, it was unclear if there were even any frontrunners for the role.
Sarada wanted so badly to believe she had done well (or at least well enough), and Boruto's surprising comment had been reassuring, but she was already second-guessing herself.
Dark eyes reviewed her appearance in the mirror, wondering if her chances would improve if she lost a little bit of weight. There was a constant looming fear that she didn't 'look' like a prima ballerina... Though Tsunade offhandedly said she wore nice clothes, and Sarada always made sure her hair was slicked back, and she was quiet and respectful during rehearsal.
But then again all the girls in the company worked hard, and maybe one of them had some kind of abstract x-factor that Tsunade was looking for.
A discouraged sigh spilled from her lips. There was just so much pressure to achieve her goal now. If she wasn't chosen would she get another chance any time soon? If she wasn't chosen would her mother be disappointed she wasn't living up to her legacy?!
Sarada froze, suddenly torn from her thought spiral at the sound of footsteps and playful giggles entering the locker room. She thought everyone would have been gone by now.
"You said you wanted to talk to me?" Dark brows rose at the sound of Boruto's voice and its uncharacteristically husky quality. Curiosity began to tickle at the back of her mind.
"Yeah," a feminine voice whispered. "I was thinking just how compatible you and I are."
Anxiously, Sarada pulled back the dressing room curtain just enough to peek out at Boruto and who she now realized was Eida. She was standing before him, her dainty fingers tracing mindless patterns against his chest as he leaned back against the wall of lockers.
They seemed much too focused on each other to even notice her. But this already felt like a conversation she shouldn't be listening to.
A smirk tugged at Boruto's lips as his hand found purchase on her waist. "You think so?"
"Yeah," she hummed, a soft sensuality laced in her tone. "You're the only one I want to dance with, but that won't be the case unless I'm chosen to be prima ballerina."
"…oh."
Sarada bit her lip. She could tell by the disappointment in his voice that that was not the compatibility he thought she was talking about.
But Eida persisted as she allowed her hand to glide down his stomach. "If you could just do me this little tiny favor and talk to your dad… I could do you a favor, too."
The obvious implication forced a gasp from Sarada's lips. Mortified, she slapped a hand over her mouth and urgently pulled the curtain closed.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god!
Maybe better to interrupt them before things got weird, right? Or maybe they'll already think she's weird for not revealing herself sooner!?
"Wh-who's there?!" a seemingly frantic-sounding Eida called from the other side of the curtain. She couldn't breathe when she heard purposeful footsteps stomp in her direction, but then suddenly, they stopped.
"I'll take care of it," Boruto said.
Sarada wasn't sure what exactly he meant by that, but she found herself sighing with relief at Eida's agreement. A few moments later the locker room door shut, but she still wasn't sure what she should do.
"She's gone. You can come out, Sarada."
Dark brows rose in shock at the use of her name. Pulling back the curtain, she wearily poked her head out of the dressing room. "How'd you know it was me?"
She found Boruto sitting on the bench in front of the rows of lockers. His posture somewhat dejected. "Who else would still be here?"
That was a pretty fair deduction.
Blue eyes glanced in her direction, observing her awkward posture for a moment. "This is why I don't get involved with ballerinas," he tried to joke as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "They only really care about one thing."
A tentative Sarada padded over and stood before him, trying to read his expression. She couldn't help but wonder if this has happened to him before. Girls using him to ultimately win favor with his father.
And yet, if he was just hoping to have sex… "Why didn't you take her up on the offer?"
Boruto looked up to meet her gaze again, his brows pinched together in obvious irritation. "Why do you ask? Were you hoping for a show? You into watching or something?" he snipped.
Sarada frowned in response, even as heat consumed her cheeks at the lewd suggestion.
He exhaled a sigh, realizing he was being overly defensive to a question that was genuine. "I'm not interested in transactional sex," Boruto muttered. "But do me a favor, and don't mention it to the other girls."
She considered assuring him she won't because no one talks to her anyway, but just decided to nod silently instead.
"Did you really like her?"
Blue eyes glanced to the side as he shrugged. "I guess not."
"Then why do you seem so disappointed?"
Boruto sat there quietly for several long seconds, seemingly mulling over his next words. Sarada took a step back when he suddenly stood, her back pressed against the wall of white lockers. Her heart rate quickened as he planted his hand beside her head, looming over her with his heated presence.
For a moment Sarada feared she made him angry by pestering him with such invasive questions, but his half-lidded blue eyes told another story entirely.
"Sarada…" His voice was low and husky, inspiring unexpectedly pleasant shivers that tickled up her spine. His dangerously close proximity was making it hard to think, hard to breathe. "I couldn't give her what she wanted, because of you."
"Wh-What?" she managed to whisper, so confused by what he was even saying.
Her breath hitched when his hand reached up to cradle her cheek. Ever so gently, the pad of his thumb grazed her bottom lip, leaving tingles in its wake. The way he touched her makes her forget about the previous conversation. "You see, you are the only one I want to dance with."
"Really?" She couldn't hide the hope in her voice.
"And I can make sure that happens…" he paused, his blue eyes falling to her parted lips as she struggled to inhale a full breath. "If… you buy me a car."
The out-of-the-blue request shook Sarada from her trance. "What?!" she blurted.
Boruto only sighed as his hand fell from her cheek. "Did that not just taint every compliment that came before it? Just completely destroy any interest in entertaining the possibility of what might come next?"
She averted her gaze to the floor as realization fully dawned on her.
"That feeling? Yeah, that's why I'm disappointed."
Boruto pushed off the locker to stand up straight. "I'm going to head out now, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Sarada nodded, her lips suddenly unable to form words. She silently watched as he slung his bag over his shoulder and strode out the door.
She knew he was just trying to prove his point. But she didn't understand how he could just walk away after that interaction, while her legs were still trembling from the palpable tension.