He's late."
She thought. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed through the empty halls of the library. Rows and rows of books laid upon the either sides,old and new, big and small, were all neatly arranged in particular order related to subjects and then alphabetical orders. She stopped for a moment to investigate a certain book wondering if it would help them with their project.
Even as a child, Sarada had always felt a strange sense of kinship with the books. Being the only child of her parents and even her family, Sarada had spent a major portion of her days secluded in the vast stretches of the library of the Uchiha mansion. Nose buried in books of legends and myths, of history and mystery was a day to day occurance in her childhood life.
So when she finally moved out for higher studies, the University library became an important part of her daily routine.
But at the moment her presence here, just two days before christmas was of utmost importance. She didn't know what possessed her teacher's to have this brilliant idea of adding a high grade scoring thesis project on their schedules deliberately on the festive season. Sarada's nose crinkled in displeasure. They were supposed to have fun! Cooped up inside her home writing a thirty page assignment was not her idea of celebrating Christmas.
Another sigh escaped her lips. Well, this book did have some stuff to the point. It was fortunate that this project was to be completed in pairs of your choice. Naturally, she teamed up with him. And now again, when the subject of him arose back, she remembered - he's late. It was neither common for him to be late nor was it to be always punctual. Maybe he's just forgotten about it? Midst of maintaining his grades and regular soccer practices, there were times when he would forget about things, meetings, gatherings and even events. So she slid her phone out of her pocket but stopped at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. Something told her that it's not him. The rhythm of the steps was just way too wrong to be him and her suspicions are proven to be true when she turns around.
It's another guy - from Commerce faction. What was his name again? Horiko? Hariko? Oh yes, Horio! He smiled at her with what he assumed must be a charming smile. She didn't want to tell him but he looks ridiculous with that look.
She smiled awkwardly, "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Not sensing the reluctance in her smile, she grimaced when he seemed to be encouraged by it. He leaned against the frame of the shelf, trying to look cool but honestly it doesn't suit him. She wanted to say it but then bit her tongue to not come out as rude.
"Um,Yes. Actually I was wondering if, I mean, would you like to be my date? For the christmas ball?"
Sarada inherently resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "I'm sorry Horio. But I don't think I'll be available in that particular duration of time."
She gave him a stiff smile and a side nod to acknowledge that the conversation was over. And then immediately turned back to browse through the multiple books of interest, waiting eagerly for his footsteps to retreat. But rather she was met with this.
"You're playing hard to get, aren't you?"
A flare of indignation lit up inside her at his words. What part of not being available did this guy had trouble understanding? She turned back to glare at him.
"Horio. I am not 'playing hard to get'! I will be off to my grandparents' house."
Her eyes grew wide at his audacity of stepping closer and going as far as speaking to her in an accusatory manner.
"You're lying! If you had to leave, you would have already left."
Sarada closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath to control the urge to punch him.
"Not everybody has to leave four days before, you know. And as I said earlier, I cannot accompany you to the ball. Please try to understand! I'm here because I have some work to do as you already can see. And I do not lie. I will be leaving anytime I wish and you don't have the right to interfere."
She suddenly realised that her words were much harsher than she intended but fury engulfed her when he stretched out a hand to touch her arm.
"Oh come on-"
The hand never reached her though. It stopped mid-way. Sarada silently gasped at the sight of the firm grip that he had over the guy's wrist.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Dude. That's where you draw the line. You asked and she said no. This is the moment to back down."
Sarada felt an odd sense of relief wash over her at Boruto's familiar presence. She knew, even if his tone was friendly, his eyes were too sharp and grip way too tight for that.
The boy must have immediately recognised him. After all, the blond football star who was incredibly popular with almost everyone in the famous university seemed hard to miss. He grew pale and immediately scrambled off, running and almost tripping over his own two feet.
Boruto looked pleased with himself, "Wow. I didn't knew that I inspired this kind of terror in people."
Sarada rolled her eyes and then proceeded to collect the unattended books.
"You know? I could have easily defended myself?"
His eyes grew wide before he gave her a small grin.
"I know! I was actually trying to save him, you know. Saving his ass from getting kicked by a karate black belt."
That statement forced a grin to break out on Sarada's face.
Many people around the campus generally perceived Sarada to be anti-social. But she was not. Just because she was not fond of going clubs and getting herself wasted drunk and then going to a guy or a girl's (yes, she's had have her fair share of female admirers) room and involve into any frivolous and adventurous activity was not her cup of tea. But still, it was enough to be dubbed as 'anti-social'. She admits that she is little reserved. But, anybody would seem to be in comparison when their best friends are Uzumaki Boruto and Akimichi Chouchou.
Both Boruto and Chouchou are social butterflies. One is hailed as gossip queen and the other is well loved by the masses. She cannot compete with them, neither does she dare. She willingly supports when people are in trouble and come to her for help but it gets a little annoying, when the same people spread rumours about her when she refuses to attend one of their amazing parties.
She remembered, Boruto giving hell to one of the guys of his team. Making him run unnecessary laps, cleaning of their soccer club room, marking and grooming the field and stuff like that. At first she was not sure about why Boruto was treating one of his own team mate like that but it was later she learned from Chouchou after a dramatic 'you didn't know?' that the guy was talking about her "bitchy" attitude after she had refused a date with him at the prospect of upcoming exams. Of course, Boruto did not take it nicely.
"Hey! Look, I found this!" his voice brought her out of her musings. He was looking at a book with utmost concentration, skimming through the pages at a fast pace. Sarada's attempt to peek over his shoulder seemed futile because he was much taller, so, in slight frustration, Sarada grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down at her level, grazing through the content displayed on the page he was pointing at. If she would have been a little less focused on the book she would have noticed how Boruto stiffened under touch and even how pink his ears look at the moment.
"Excellent!" she exclaimed. "This is it! Now we have enough matter to write at least forty pages of assignment."
"Already?"
"Yup! I already collected other necessary books. After all, someone was fifteen minutes late to the scheduled time." She scoffed at him and he smiled sheepishly, not defending himself.
She picked up the large pile of the books and lightly grunted. It was nothing she couldn't handle but it wasn't exactly comfortable to have books levelling up to your nose. But the weight in her arms was reduced significantly when Boruto grabbed a larger part of them. He gave her nod and then they left for their place. A small table set in the farthest corner of the library. Away from unwanted noise where Sarada could simply indulge herself into the book of her choice for as long as she would like. Boruto simply didn't mind it, telling her it's fine as long as she is fine with this. It was their personal bubble. A place where they could sit without needing to fill the quietness of the silence between them. Sometimes, a comfortable shared silence is much more than incessant chatter to be with each other.
Moving through the empty hallways, they reached their destination. And Sarada's eyes widened at the presence of a paper bag and two plastic cup containers of the coffee. She put the two and two together and chuckled at him.
"So, that's where all the traffic was?"
Boruto gave a half laugh half grimace in response.
"I left ten minutes early and still got here fifteen minutes late. It was the lunch hour rush, I guess?"
"You know eating is forbidden in library?" she chastised him lightly.
"Oh come on! I thought if I was going to spend the entire afternoon cooped up in here then I'd rather be not hungry!" He complained and then continued, "Knowing you, you probably forgot about lunch, didn't you?"
Sarada puffed out her cheeks, "I did not!"
But her traitorous stomach betrayed her at very moment with a loud growl and Sarada blushed red at the sound of Boruto's sonorous laugh.
"Of course, you didn't. Had the largest lunch without me? Eh?"
The sight of his impish smirk and glinting eyes made her heart thud loudly in the chest. She couldn't understand that how the guy she is most comfortable with, still could make her flush like that. Boruto and she have a long history shared in between. The friendship between their families exists from their grandmothers' time, continued through their fathers and is still alive, well and good with her and Boruto. She cannot remember even a small stretch of her life without his presence in it. So it goes without saying...the trust she has in him. She knows she would never verbalise it but still he knows and she believes that is already more than enough.
So, the entire afternoon is spent sipping 'caramel cappuccino' – one of her favourites, eating oily fries and hotter than necessary hamburgers, pouring themselves over the books for all the comprehensible study material for the topic, taking notes and marking important lines. When she finally took a moment to breathe and stretched her neck upwards to avoid the cramps, her eyes fell on the clock and she gasped.
"Boruto!"
"Yeah?" he asked, still not looking up from the notebook he's been scribbling upon.
"The time!" at her exclamation, his eyes travelled to the clock too.