Happily Ever Afterward -- Borusara

Infiltration Mission (Part 4)

"What precise accuracy," mumbled an onlooker nearby. He glanced in the direction of Boruto and Sarada and narrowed his eyes. "Not that it could be appreciated by two youthful chunin that just so happened to get an invitation..."

Boruto raised an eyebrow at Sarada. She smirked back. It wasn't like they were experts at ballroom dancing by any stretch of the means. But they had the movements of professionals ingrained into their bodies by a game. They knew how it felt. His chest was aching to dance with her again. And they just spent the past few hours getting their dance refined by someone who could have set the steps for the game themselves.

When the Land of Lightning duo finished performing their dance, the next up was the Land of Wind. Their dance was smooth and graceful. They glided across the floor like they were weightless. But there wasn't any spice, nothing interesting to set them apart from waltzing like a regular couple.

Following them was the Land of Earth, and after that, the Land of Water.

Finally the announcer clinked their glass to silence the murmuring crowd. "And now, we will see the two representatives from the Land of Fire perform to the Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky."

Boruto cast a sideways glance at Sarada. She took hold of his arm with a gentle smile and gave a nod to the orchestra.

The beginning of the waltz was lively and quick. But the two fourteen-year-olds straightened their backs and walked like poised professionals, each step in perfect sync with the downbeat. The crowd parted and formed a proper circle around them, staring them down as they made their way to the center.

Sarada curtseyed, and Boruto bowed in proper greeting. And as the orchestra began the main melody, his hand slid onto her waist.

Without placing her hands on him, Sarada turned her head away and closed her eyes. Her arms hung neatly at angles, fingers daintily posed, allowing the push and pull of Boruto's hand on her waist to guide their sway.

One hand tucked behind the small of his own back, Boruto maneuvered her in a circle. He kept his eyes on her as she spun in place, his fingers continuously brushing the fabric of her waist. She was so small and slender and delicate... The fabric of her dress was tight, yet soft. Silky and smooth to the touch. 

And as Sarada opened her eyes and decreased the distance between them, everything else in the room seemed to blur.

There was a story to their dance. The story of distance and annoyance as she closed her eyes and spun in, and back out. The story of the subtle way Boruto guided her to fall in love with him, pulling her closer. How with every turn and spin, she slowly came to look at him, to face him, making each new position closer than the last.

Most of all, their facial expressions indicated joy and intimacy. There was a certain unmatched intensity, a subtle fire in their eyes. Not a hint of concentration from fear of mis-stepping.

Boruto took up the entire circle, extending his arm for Sarada to hold as she spun to arms length and back, and to the other side and back. Each brush of his bare hands against her velvety skin made him slowly lose himself to her. Their feet moved in perfect synchronization to the one two threes, their heads steady as they held eye contact.

They were so involved with each other that they didn't notice how a hush had fallen over the crowd. How the orchestra was suddenly playing with more emotion. Every single audience member's attention was held captive by their waltz.

Boruto turned in wide, sweeping, multi step circles, holding a traditional position with Sarada facing him, her hand in his. The onlookers had to step back as to not get brushed by the frills of Sarada's dress. But he was much too focused on the mischievous sparkle in her onyx eyes as they wowed the crowd.

He wrapped one arm around her to lift her as they turned, transitioning right back into the ease of the tempo. Feeling her weight under his arm. Holding her, supporting her. It was like a distant dream. One he was overjoyed to be living through again. 

Once more, he lifted her, this time both hands at her waist, smiling up at her as their noses brushed on her way back down. Breathing in the same air. 

The crowd held their breath as he dipped her to the side, their hands connected over her head, one arm supporting her back as her arm held his waist. But the kiss he almost gave her was halted by the sudden awareness of the piece coming to an end.

With a sheepish smile, he pulled her back up and wistfully let her go. His hand came to his chest as he lowered his head in a subtle bow. She curtseyed, her dress forming a cave around her waist, hands neatly bent at the wrists as they brushed the light fabric.

And when the last note died off and the crowd applauded them, they both flinched in surprise. Somehow, the fact that there were even onlookers in the first place disappeared from their minds.

They tried to blend back into the crowd. But the stares and glances from jealous guests were making them uncomfortable. Not only were they completely underestimated, they were also being admired by the elders, some even coming up and speaking to them to ask how long they had been together.

Boruto eyed the orchestra as they played the famous Blue Danube Waltz, tired of explaining that he and Sarada were childhood friends who just happened to practice waltzing earlier that day. No one believed his lie.

It was true that they didn't have much experience, but they were teammates. There were times when a single miss-coordination would result in the other getting hurt. In comparison to fighting, dancing was relaxing and fun.

"Hey Sarada."

She looked up from her white-chocolate dipped mini-cake. "Hm?"

"Can we pretend to dance over to that window? If I remember the layout of the building correctly from when we walked in, it leads to a balcony."

"You really want to sneak out of a Feudal Lord's ball? There are probably sensory ninja all over the place. Not to mention guards..."

"...So you don't want to?"

Sarada put down her plate of neatly decorated petit fours and took his hand. "It would be my pleasure."

Assuming a more dignified waltz position, Sarada's hand resting on the front of Boruto's outer coat, they stepped in time to the music until they made it to the oversized window. To his dismay, a certain red-head was blocking the way.

"Trying to sneak out, are you?" Tento raised his eyebrows at the two of them.

"What are you talking about," Sarada laughed, "we're just--"

"Yes," Boruto interrupted. If anyone could help him in this situation, it would be Tento. "Being dressed in a suit all night is making me sweaty and gross. I could really use some fresh air right about now."

"Wimp. What kind of man can't handle being dressed in a suit?" He laughed. "Ah well. It's not like I don't understand." Tento raised an eyebrow and moved to the side. "Have fun, cooling off."

The last bit was said in a clearly mischievous tone, but Boruto was just happy to get away from the crowds for a little bit. He slipped through the door, Sarada following after.