"Hey, good morning!" an overly chipper Boruto greeted. He plopped down beside Sarada in the back corner of the near-empty studio. She sat effortlessly in a butterfly stretch as she broke the soles of a fresh pair of pointe shoes.

"Morning," she mumbled in reply, disguising her newfound shyness as preoccupation. After yesterday, her cheeks began to feel warm just at the sight of him.

Sarada had reminded herself countless times throughout the night that he was just trying to prove his point. That's what he said. She shouldn't make a big deal out of something he clearly thought was insignificant (no matter how wildly her heart was fluttering).

Boruto didn't seem at all discouraged by her short response or lack of eye contact, in fact, he scooted even closer. But his brow furrowed at the sight of numerous band-aids covering the blisters on her feet. "Maybe you've been practicing too much," Boruto said, his voice laced with concern. He was one of the few, if not the only, who actually knew how long she stayed after their regularly scheduled rehearsal. "Does it hurt? Are the band-aids enough protection? Are you taking proper care of your feet?"

Dark eyes blinked at him. He was being chattier than normal this morning. "Did you really come over here to talk about my foot care routine?"

Boruto deflated with a sigh as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head. Clearly, there was something he was avoiding. He glanced around the studio before lowering his voice. "So, about yesterday…"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Sarada defended in an urgent whisper.

Who would she even tell?! Nobody even talked to her!

"Oh... I know. I wasn't worried about that," he assured her with a subtle wave of his hand. "I meant more like… after that. I realized I might have made you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry. I thought you would understand better if I showed you what I meant, but I really didn't need to take it that far."

"I wasn't uncomfortable," Sarada immediately replied. But then bit her tongue realizing that was dangerously close to admitting that she liked being close to him. "I mean, I knew what you were doing. You don't have to worry, I didn't actually think you would be interested in me… ya know, physically."

He tilted his head slightly like he found that response particularly odd. "Why do you assume I wouldn't?"

An involuntary, awkward laugh spilled from her lips, she could probably think of at least a dozen reasons. "Uh, have you looked at me?"

Blonde brows pinched together at her self-deprecating response. "Yeah, I have. Quite a bit actually."

Sarada's face fell. "Huh?"

"I look at you when you dance with me, I look at you when you dance by yourself. Hell, I look at you even when you're not dancing. But I'm starting to realize you and I don't see the same thing."

She stared blankly at him, her brain refusing to comprehend his words. "I don't know what you're trying to say..."

He pressed his lips into a flat line as if knowing he was going to have to spell it out for her. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I would be interested in you… ya know, physically."

What?!

Boruto barely even waited for a reply after dropping that bomb on her. He just wordlessly stood up and walked away, leaving Sarada reeling. Dark eyes widened in shock followed him across the room as she wondered if he really just said that. Why would he say that?!

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that information?!

Her ears grew hot as she recalled their interaction in the locker room the day before. She had quickly dismissed the lustful look in his blue eyes, but now she didn't know what to think.

It wasn't rare for Sarada to feel insecure during rehearsal, wondering how harshly her colleagues judged her dancing or her clothes or her body. But at today's rehearsal, she was feeling shy for another reason entirely.

Knowing Boruto watched her made her all the more nervous, especially now with this interest he expressed. Every time she spared a glance in his direction, a deep blush consumed her cheeks.

Maybe she was misinterpreting his comment and it was much more innocent than she thought.

That would make more sense anyway.

He probably meant he wanted to dance with her or something, which was still very flattering. That or he just said that to be nice…

Sarada had convinced herself his 'beautiful' comment was simply to be nice as well. With how often he observed her, he probably thought the gloomy girl in the company needed the most reassurance.

She wouldn't be surprised if he told Eida the same thing. He honestly could be telling every girl that kind of sentiment. Maybe he was trying to build everyone's confidence for the good of the company?

Her hand rested on the barre as her body went through their usual warm-up exercises. But her mind continued to wander, trying to make sense of the enigma that was Boruto Uzumaki.

Thankfully rehearsal was nearing its end, marking the start of the weekend. Sarada grimaced as she flexed and pointed her toes. Her feet were so sore that she began to wonder if there was actually some merit to Boruto's earlier concern.

Boruto.

He slipped into her mind all throughout the day, consuming her thoughts even to the point that she hadn't noticed Tsunade's absence until half way through rehearsal.

Tsunade had been observing their rehearsals for the last few weeks. After her merciless comments on the first day, she stayed relatively silent as she took notes on all the ballerinas in the company. What was even more anxiety-provoking was no one quite knew what she was judging for, what made a prima ballerina in her expert eyes.

Wait a second… if Tsunade wasn't there, did that mean her evaluation was complete?!

As if summoned by Sarada's internal question, Tsunade and Naruto emerged from his office a few moments later. He looked ready to speak but no one was sure if they should stop dancing until the accompanist paused their playing.

"Pardon the interruption," Naruto said with a smile. "Sumire, can we please see you in my office for a moment?"

All eyes moved to the violet-haired girl who looked equally as surprised. "Oh yes, of course," she nodded nervously, before crossing the studio to follow them out the door.

Sarada's heart dropped.

This was it.

They've decided.

The next prima ballerina was Sumire.

What else could they possibly be talking to her about?

Dark eyes stared down at her feet, what did she really expect? Sumire was so demure, so thin, she would be a great prima ballerina.

"Let's continue," Moegi called, clapping her hands together. When Sarada dared to glance around the room, all the other girls seemed just as disheartened. They must have had the same assumption.

Upbeat piano notes filled the space as the accompanist continued their playing, but the music felt so contradictory to the mood in the room. Sarada forced her body to move, forced herself to dance. There was probably only a half hour or so left of rehearsal, she could make it through, then go home and cry by herself.

But even after such reassurances, her face began to feel hot with emotion.

If only she had been more poised, more polished… if only she trained harder… if only she had the self-control to not eat so many fucking midnight snacks, maybe she could've been thin enough to not let this opportunity slip through her fat fucking fingers!

Sarada had barely eaten anything and yet felt compelled to throw up as if maybe that could relieve the doubt and disappointment churning uncomfortably in her gut. She struggled to fight back tears, wondering if she would ever be good enough.

Good enough to be a prima ballerina... Good enough to be loved...

Nobody fell in love with the girl dancing in the background.

It was only a few minutes before a lone Sumire returned to the studio. All eyes immediately turned to her, but she wasn't glowing with accomplishment like Sarada had expected.

Instead, she quietly walked over to Namida and whispered something in her ear. Namida nodded and then left the studio in the direction of Director Uzumaki's office.

Sumire remained quiet as confusion spread. The girls in the company exchanged questioning glances and mumbled comments, wondering what exactly was happening.

Then the same as Sumire, Namida returned to the studio and sent someone else to Director Uzumaki's office.

One by one, every girl in the company was tapped to have a private conversation with Naruto and Tsunade. Sarada held her breath each time someone returned to the studio, hoping it would be her turn next just so she could stop panicking.

But no one would call on her.

Her anxiety heightened as the list of girls who hadn't been talked to grew shorter and shorter. Were the names picked at random or were they going down some list?! It didn't seem to be alphabetical by first or last name. It wasn't by time with the company.

Which meant the only logical explanation was they were going down the list based on how Tsunade scored them.

A dry lump formed in the back of her throat that she just couldn't seem to swallow. Eida just walked into Naruto's office which meant Sarada was the very last person on the list.

The lowest score.

The worst ballerina in the company.

Sarada wanted to say she couldn't believe it, but the terrible part was, she could. Deep in her heart, she knew it.

It was why she always practiced so hard. It was why Boruto always tried to help her, he was probably worried about her bringing the whole company down. The company he was practically the face of.

She felt so completely stupid for ever hoping there was something more to Boruto's self-proclaimed interest in her. Dark eyes dared to peek in his direction, finding him already looking back. A sympathetic smile on his lips. Had he known this whole time?

Mistress Moegi concluded their rehearsal just in time for Eida to walk back into the studio, but to Sarada's surprise, Naruto and Tsunade were trailing behind her.

But wait?! She never got her turn! Why would they talk to everybody but her?!

Had they simply forgotten about her?!

"I know it's Friday, but if I could please get everyone to gather for a quick announcement," Director Uzumaki called with a wave of his arm. The dancers all hastily congregated around him, eager to be let in on the secret conversations that transpired over the last half hour.

"First, I want to thank Tsunade for being so generous with her time over the past few weeks." Naruto softly clapped and the dancers joined in.

"From what I've seen, I'm optimistic that your summer program won't be hot garbage," Tsunade told them, both hands resting on her hips. The applause petered off, unsure if the comment felt more like a compliment or an insult.

"Next, we've decided on a piece for the summer program, so the rehearsal schedule will be changing to accommodate learning new choreography and rehearsing individual numbers," Naruto explained. "But of course, we can't properly get started without our new female lead. Please join me in congratulating the Konoha Ballet Company's next prima ballerina, Sarada Uchiha!"

Sarada's mouth fell open in complete shock. Had she just heard him right?! She must have, being that Director Uzumaki was gesturing right at her.

But her body was frozen, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, she could barely even breathe.

A steady hand landed on her back, ushering her a few steps forward through the small crowd toward Naruto's outstretched hand. "I hope you'll accept," he said with his signature grin.

After half an hour of mental self-torture, Sarada could barely wrap her head around what he was even offering her.

"I promise I won't let you down," Sarada muttered as she shook his hand, hoping her palm wasn't too sweaty. She then turned around to face the other dancers in the company. The small crowd she used to hide among now all politely applauding her accomplishment.

Her heart was pounding in her ears. They were smiling, but were they really happy for her? They were clapping, but did they actually believe she deserved such a coveted role?

She wet her lips nervously, hoping her voice would actually come out. "Um, thank you, everyone."

Sarada finally noticed Boruto standing beside her. His hand still rested on her back as he leaned in to whisper, "I had no doubts. I know you'll be great."

She was so focused on the way his warm breath pleasantly tickled her skin, that Sarada didn't notice the way a pair of jealous teal eyes narrowed at their cozy position.

"Thanks, guys! Have a great weekend and get some rest!" Naruto told the group. "Oh, and keep an eye out for the new rehearsal schedule, we'll be jumping right into choreography on Monday!"

The dancers broke into quiet side conversations as the crowd dispersed, heading toward the locker room. But Sarada remained where she stood, still trying to absorb the situation.

She was Konoha Ballet's prima ballerina. Experts like Tsunade and Director Uzumaki decided she of all people was the most worthy.

She wanted to say she was ecstatic, that she was bursting with profound accomplishment after having reached this goal she had strived nearly her whole life to achieve, but it wasn't quite the instant gratification she expected.

Sure, she was proud of herself for getting this far, relieved she wasn't actually the worst dancer in the company, but she just imagined this moment going differently. Naively, Sarada thought once she was named prima ballerina, there would be this shift inside of her, that she'd become completely self-assured, or at the very least happier.

But she wasn't suddenly happy or confident. She still harbored all the same problems and insecurities, except now, everyone would be watching.

"You okay?"

Sarada turned to find Boruto in the doorway, his bag hanging off his shoulder, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I'm fine," she muttered in reply.

He crossed the room toward her, clearly picking up on her less than stellar mood. "What are you up to right now? Would you want to go out and celebrate?"

"Um, I actually think I'm too tired tonight." Her gaze refused to meet his, suddenly feeling guilty for not being in a celebratory mood. All Sarada really wanted to do was lay in bed and sort through this cognitive dissonance.

"I get it. But hey, I'm open all weekend, so give me a call when you're free and we'll do something fun." Boruto reached forward, gently brushing his fingers against hers before holding her hand. "This really is huge, you should let yourself enjoy this accomplishment before you worry yourself with the pressure that comes with it."

Sarada nodded and gave his hand a little squeeze. "Thanks."

They stood there for a silent moment before Boruto released her hand. He slowly stepped back toward the exit. "Call me, okay?"

For the first time since the announcement, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe he was right, she should at least try to be happy for herself.

With a deep breath, Sarada finally made her way out of the studio. She was surprised to hear a few voices in the locker room, having assumed everyone would already be gone. She stopped just outside the door as her ears tuned into the conversation inside.

"Well, can't say I'm that surprised," Eida began. "You didn't hear it from me, but apparently she got on her knees for Boruto... And I don't mean to beg."

Dark eyes widened as the breath left her lungs, the words like a brutal punch to the gut. Only made worse by the sound of surprised gasps and scandalized giggles echoing against the metal lockers.

"It seems anytime daddy's checkbook can't buy her what she wants she'll just suck a dick for it."

Sarada hastily spun around and ran toward the nearest bathroom as tears streamed down her cheeks. The moment the door closed behind her, she nearly collapsed on the tile floor.

Her worst fears had been realized. How could she celebrate being named prima ballerina when her colleagues clearly thought she was so undeserving?! How could she be happy for herself when someone was spreading such egregious rumors?! How could she ever face Boruto again knowing their association was ruining his reputation as well?