The Heart Remembers

The Eighth

Sarada listened for the closing of the door before she let out the breath she was holding. It never got any easier. It broke her heart every time she saw him. He was so very different from the Mitsuki she had known so well and yet so the same. The Mitsuki she remembered was kind and loving and fiercely loyal. He was sweet and naive in so many ways, following Boruto around like a lost puppy. He had been so much more than a friend to her. After Boruto, he was her very closest friend and confidant; her brother in arms.

She remembered it all over again. She would remember that night forever, every second of it perfectly preserved and replayed with cruel clarity time and time again. She was doing paperwork, the never-ending duty (read: curse) of the Hokage. The dull and menial but entirely too necessary work that never lessens no matter how much time is dedicated to it. More than once she wondered if it would stop piling up if she quit doing it.

She had just been approving some new construction plans when ChouChou literally knocked down the door. Before Sarada understood what was happening, she was shouting the news. Boruto was dead, murdered by some of the last remaining members of Kara, madmen determined to raise their cult back to its former glory. ANBU teams were unable to recover his body. They had only just gotten Mitsuki out but he had to be taken to the Sound Village immediately. He was little more than a raving lunatic, shrieking for Boruto and slashing at his own body and those who tried to tend to him.

At first, she couldn't process what she was being told. It was far too terrible to be true and was someone's idea of a very sick joke. It was ChouChou that made her realize it was the truth. The look on her face, the tears streaming from her eyes and her hysterical demeanor as she shouted the report over and over was what made it all real. It was in that horrible moment that she felt her heart splinter. Boruto, her support and right-hand man, childhood friend and cherished brother was gone.

She never should have let him take the job, even if it had been his dream. She had been nervous about him taking her Papa's place after he retired, but everyone had reassured her it would be fine. She knew it was a bad idea. It was too dangerous, but Boruto was more than capable. He was the most powerful ninja of their age, plus, he had Mitsuki with him. His lover had a way of calming him and keeping him safe from himself. That was, when Mitsuki wasn't going along with Boruto's hair-brained ideas.

Oh, no. Mitsuki! Her initial shock and grief over the loss of Boruto shrank away in exchange for fear. Boruto was his everything. Mitsuki wouldn't survive this. An urgent call from Orochimaru confirmed her fears. Mitsuki's mind couldn't take it. They had to erase his memories now or else they would lose him too. She could hear his cries of anguish in the background, each one tearing painfully at her heart. Was there nothing else they could do? Orochimaru had insisted it was the only way to save his life. She had felt so broken and scared and woefully incapable of making that kind of decision right then but she had no choice. She had already lost one brother, she couldn't bare to lose another. She gave the order.

Looking back, she wondered if it really had been what was best for him. Seeing him now, she felt like she had lost him anyway. She held the old picture, gazing at it for what felt like the thousandth time. There they were, the three of them together, smiling for the camera with Konohamaru-sensei. The wooden frame was worn from age and constant handling. There was even a little groove that fit her thumb perfectly. A traitorous tear fell from one eye as she longed for what used to be. She had done this to them. It was all her fault. If she had never sent them on that mission...

She took a steadying breath, pushing back her despair. She couldn't let herself think like that. There was still hope, she reminded herself. This could all be fixed.

For the first few months, she had been obsessively searching for the ones who had murdered Boruto, turning Mitsuki loose on any she found that had ties to them. More often than not, he wound up killing everyone. It was an inconvenience that time and time again they had no one to question but Sarada never punished him too harshly. In her mind, she was allowing him to avenge his fallen Sun, which she felt was the least she could do even if it did slow things down. About six months into her quest for revenge, a solid tip fell into her lap. One of her most trusted informants had spotted the Kara members they were looking for at last; their first sighting since the incident. She was so eager preparing the mission profile, she almost missed a note at the end of the report. They had a prisoner; one with golden hair and blue eyes.

Her heart almost stopped when she read it. There was no one else she knew of that could possibly fit that description. Could it be possible? They had never recovered his body nor did they know how he had died. The only one who knew was Mitsuki. He was the sole witness to Boruto's death and he was in no condition to tell anyone what exactly had happened. Ever since that day, she poured all of her resources into chasing that tiny ray of hope; tracking their every move and looking for an opportunity.

Then, a couple of months ago, Orochimaru had come to her with some disturbing news. It seemed that Mitsuki was starting to remember. She had thought that was impossible. Orochimaru had thought so too but the mad scientist hypothesized that the trauma of that night had somehow imprinted on his heart and for whatever reason, it was now starting to surface. She was advised that they should consider erasing his memory again but it would only be a temporary fix. Sooner or later, the memories were going to surface again. She considered it but when she saw him again, she knew she couldn't do it. It was bad enough that he was behaving as if he were little more than her tool. Toying with his mind would only be admitting that was truly what he had become.

There was only one hope that she could see. If Boruto was really alive, if she could get him back, then maybe she could fix all this. The plan was the same but Mitsuki's condition meant that time was now more important than caution. If his memories returned before they found Boruto, she wouldn't be able to save him. Unfortunately, it was looking like she had less time than she had thought. There were signs in every report that the memories were growing stronger. His fellow ANBU reported that he woke screaming almost nightly and his rages in battle were now commonplace and completely uncontrollable. She had feared that they would find Boruto too late, until yesterday.

At long last, she received word that the members of Kara were gathering again, the same way they had a year ago, and they had their prisoner with them. The opportunity she was waiting for had arrived.

She'd hardly slept last night, working out how she was going to do this. Around dawn, she settled on subtly encouraging Mitsuki's dormant memories. The conditions for this mission were almost exactly the same as the fateful one; the one where they lost Boruto. She went through her records that morning and was relieved to find that she still had the scroll from that mission. It was found on Mitsuki's person and returned to her after the memory wipe. She glanced over it, confirming that the information was all the same. The only thing missing was information about the hostage. No problem, she would tell him that herself, give this scroll to him personally then send him to retrieve his Sun.

Now he was on his way and it was officially out of her hands. She could only wait and pray that she wasn't wrong.