Just A Dream

One year after Kawaki ruined Boruto's life, Sarada huffed up the stairs in frustration, taking off her glasses and scrubbing her face with her hands until it was red. She flopped back onto her bed in the dark and stared blankly at the ceiling. 

There was no end to this stupid cycle. She hated avoiding Boruto's name, hated that Mitsuki remembered all of their times spent together as times with Kawaki, and most of all, she hated how everything she said was somehow an excuse to everyone else. She'd gotten Shikamaru on her side plenty of times, and then he would go to sleep and wake up the next day with the same stupid stubborn opinion: he didn't trust that traitor from the start. 

No one had heard from him in a full year, and the council of elders was meeting in the morning to discuss his immediate elimination upon his potential return. It was likely that they would treat it as a kill on sight situation. Sarada just hoped her father would have some sort of leeway in fighting for his pardon by the time they got back. 

She heaved a sigh and rolled over onto her side. This wasn't going to get any better. She knew that, she just... 

Her lip quivered.

No, we are not crying. 

In defiance, Sarada sat up and set an alarm for early the next morning. She was going to go to that hearing and glare at everyone until they shut up. 

Nearly an hour of trying to shut down that numb feeling in her chest later, she finally fell asleep. And in the middle of a rather nice dream about going on a mission as the old team seven, she was suddenly aware of her surroundings, the darkness, the silence.

Sarada cracked open her eyes. 

Standing in between her bed and the window was a silhouette that looked like her father's. She blinked sleepily and sat up. "Papa?" 

It was too blurry to make out anything without her glasses, but she could have sworn she heard them mumble, "dang it," under their breath, in a voice that sounded very much like...

"Boruto?"

He stopped whatever he was attempting to do, clearly failing. "You're dreaming right now-tteba... I mean." He cleared his throat. "This is all a dream."

Sarada couldn't see very well, but she was certain the voice was his. His voice. It'd been so long since she heard his stupid childish voice. Tears welled up in her eyes making her vision of the caped figure even worse. "Boruto, is that really--"

"Just a dream," he muttered again, making a symbol with his hands. "Come on... Come on..."

"If it's just a dream, then why are you trying so hard to leave it?" Sarada sat up as a tear dripped over her eye. "I..." There was so much she wanted to say, the words just caught in her throat. 

And then, he was gone. 

Sarada wasn't sure whether or not she fell back asleep, and she wasn't sure if she'd imagined the entire encounter. But one thing was for certain. It made her miss them both about three times worse. 

.  .  .

Six months later, she hadn't exactly forgotten about his appearance, but now she definitely thought more of it as something invented by her tortured imagination than something that was real. After all, his silhouette seemed the same as her father's. Long hair that covered one eye, body hidden by a long black cape. Maybe out of desperation, she'd somehow managed to put herself under a genjutsu and combine them both into one person.

She continued on with her day, stopping by to see what Sumire was up to because now she preferred the isolation of science labs to the scrutinizing eyes of the villagers. And she didn't particularly want to be out and about. Especially since today was the day that the chunin exams were being held.