"Girl, I see your mistake."
Sarada turned. Shisui stood at the kitchen door, shoveling rice. Bowl in one hand, chopsticks in the other, his usual black iris glowing red with twitching tomoe commas.
Sarada adjusted her glasses. She sat on the floor by her sofa, before an unrolled scroll, practicing the same barrier technique.
"You're not controlling your chakra right," Shisui deactivated his Sharingan. "Not about breaking bones—you need the chakra to spread evenly across all symbols on the sheet."
Sarada looked at her hand, clenched her fist, then unclenched it.
"Listen... That kid," Shisui said, chewing. "Naruto, right? Wherever I go, he's lurking under our house. Waiting for you, girl?"
Sarada darkened.
"Go talk to him. Don't want to?"
She took off her glasses, closed her eyes, massaged her eyelids.
"Don't know what to say. He'll pry, and I... Can't tell the truth, can't lie. Last time we met, he was still a kid, and now... I just don't know."
Shisui shrugged.
"Say it's all my technique. What's to think?"
"Seriously?" Sarada asked skeptically.
"You think I tell everyone? Put genjutsu on the Hokage and Sasuke too?"
"No, but... A technique that level... They buy it?"
"They do."
Sarada put her glasses back on and eyed Shisui closely.
How strong is he, if even that excuse doesn't raise doubts with the Hokage?
The trip with the new wave had been relatively easy for Sarada. Sure, almost killed on arrival, but still.
After the first wave, she'd landed in a world where she started from zero: find work, hide her origins. ANBU watched her, her uncle who didn't know who she was. Enemies everywhere, only Shinko helped her settle. With Itachi, it'd resolved by miracle—he could've killed her easily; now Sarada had no doubt.
Now, after her uncle's betrayal, Mangekyo awakening, the wave, and assassination attempts, she lay in the hospital without a thought for what came next. She remembered how hard it was to find a place where no one needed you. No strength or will to start over, make excuses... They'd interrogate, torture her again. But Shisui appeared, and problems solved themselves. He took her in, helped adjust to the new time, covered for her with the elders, trained her, pulled her soul from the abyss. Ironically, the man who'd suspected her to the end became close in the present. Maybe he never fully dropped his suspicions, but Sarada didn't care. However she swore not to trust anyone again, Shisui's friendliness shattered her plans.
It was an almost unfamiliar feeling—having a strong man watch your back. Before time travel, she'd felt it rarely: with Nanadaime, who protected her and Chocho on the way to Dad and watched over them; sometimes on missions with Konohamaru-sensei; a few times with Dad. Exceptions. While peers felt fatherly care constantly, Sarada lived with a mom who loved her but couldn't replace a man in the family.
That rare feeling, flickering toward other fathers and even mentors, became constant when she joined Dad's family. Itachi became the man covering her back. But the whole family had a flaw in raising kids. Dad ignored her in the future; Itachi barely spent time with her in the past, and Grandpa Fugaku ignored his sons too. Apparently, Sasuke learned that indifference to his daughter from his father. Thought it was normal?
But now... Sarada finally soaked in what she'd dreamed of so long. Shisui was almost like an older brother, and with him, the feeling of a man in the family came fully. Unlike Itachi, Shisui didn't overload on missions and spent time with her and Sasuke. Maybe good example—his own father. Or his super-friendly nature lent itself to it.
People get used to good fast. Shisui meant a lot to her in short time. Relying on others was unforgivable for a shinobi, but Sarada couldn't help it. She trained hard to get stronger, learned new techniques, thought for herself, made decisions alone. Yet she felt firmly under Shisui's influence. Itachi had shattered her ideals and inner world; Shisui rebuilt it his way. Kind and sometimes unserious, he was a great psychologist. He sensed her inner world sharply, steered her feelings, thoughts, desires subtly. Unlike Sarada, he knew exactly what he wanted from life and her role in it as his late friend's niece. Sometimes she felt like shapeless clay on a potter's wheel, skilled hands confidently shaping her. Shisui's influence was usually imperceptible. Only flashes: "I have no will of my own; they're leading me, preparing me..." She wanted to believe Shisui knew what he was doing, for her good, the Leaf's, the future. But her freedom-loving self felt uneasy with someone else rummaging in her darkness.
Shisui finished and went to the kitchen.
The door slammed. Sasuke burst in, unusually excited. He passed Sarada without greeting and slammed some paper on the counter.
"Shisui," Sasuke somehow managed respect and familiarity at once. "I'm taking the chunin exam."
"Whoa. Kakashi-san recommend you?"
"Yeah."
"I see," Shisui crossed his arms, leaned back against the windowsill. "Your teammates too?"
"Yeah."
"Hm. So? You sure you're set on it?"
"Yeah."
Sarada peeked into the kitchen, holding her breath, listening.
"You get the risks?" Shisui asked seriously. "You can die on the exam. And your teammates... Honestly, from what you've said, they're nothing special."
Mom and Nanadaime? What, Shisui-san?
Sarada felt hurt.
"Doesn't matter," Sasuke growled. "Itachi passed alone at ten. I'm not yielding to him!"
"Don't overestimate yourself," Shisui said coldly. "You're not Itachi."
Sarada saw Dad clench his fists hard at those words.
"You're a talented genin, Uchiha heir. But you have no idea what's waiting on the exam. Kakashi-san probably doesn't think your team can finish it. He just wants to show you shinobi world's reality, that's all."
"I know reality fine," Sasuke hissed. "Itachi..."
"No, you don't. If you think the pain from six years ago was the limit, I'll disappoint you."
Sasuke choked on outrage.
"You think I shouldn't take the exam?" he challenged.
Shisui shook his head.
"No, I think you should. But don't get cocky—assess your strength soberly. That's what I'm saying."
"Damn. Exam's team-based. Naruto and Sakura don't know. Naruto's fine, but Sakura... I worry she'll back out."
"Don't influence her choice," Shisui said sternly. "If I find out you meddled and forced the girl against her will... Better not know what happens then. She could die on that exam. Your egoism's no surprise, so remember: I'm watching you, Sasuke."
Shisui wagged a finger. Sasuke slammed his fist on the counter in fury and stormed to his room, glaring venomously at Sarada frozen in the doorway. She swallowed nervously. Shisui could be terrifyingly serious sometimes, and Dad... Sometimes she felt he had too much hate and too little love.
Naruto really was keeping watch at their house. He sat alone on the bench, staring at his feet. Probably given up hope his friend would come out, so not really watching the entrance.
Sarada rarely left the house. Only to train with Shisui and Sasuke, or walk with Mom a few times, but never spotted Naruto. Why go out? She dreaded running into acquaintances on the street: Shinko, Hodeki, other kids who knew past her. No desire to explain. Scrolls with techniques and the apartment floor kept her busy usefully.
Sarada approached the bench cautiously.
This kid was both the child from the past she'd grown close to, and future Nanadaime Hokage, Boruto's dad—for whom she was just his best friend's daughter. So long ago... No, the kid was recent, maybe a month back. Adult Uzumaki Naruto was far back in memory.
Now her peer. I'm going crazy. Can't fuse one person across three ages. They're different yet the same. Madness.
Naruto noticed the shadow over the bench, looked up, and jumped at Sarada.
"Hi," she said.
Nanadaime stared with that same gaze haunting her since last time.
"Hi."
Awkward silence hung. The hyper-chatty kid from childhood clearly wasn't rushing to talk. Still concussed? But how would he pass the chunin exam? Not like Sakura—he wouldn't back out.
"Uh..." Naruto ruffled his shaggy hair and mumbled embarrassedly: "Long time no see... nee-chan."
The familiar term carried new meaning. An odd feeling gripped Sarada—resonance between the same person at different ages, time traveler's curse. However close in the past, now they rebuilt relations. She was no longer "nee-chan," he no six-year-old. Now peers.
Sarada feared he'd ask how she survived, forcing Shisui's excuse, but instead Naruto said:
"I'm glad you came back."
Sarada smiled. Nanadaime stood, and they wandered the village.
His voice shook with nerves; Sarada almost asked why so on edge, figuring venting would help. But she vaguely sensed what Naruto felt and decided best not touch it.
"I'm a ninja!" Naruto touched his headband over blond hair. "And I'm... I'm... I'm taking the chunin exam, ttebayo!"
"You okay after that mission?" Sarada asked cautiously.
"Which?"
"The minefield one."
"What field?"
Naruto froze puzzled, then beamed and waved casually:
"Oh, thaaat field... Yeah, all good, dattebayo!"
"Still, he's nothing like Boruto," thought Sarada. "The same blond rascal, but they're different." Nanadaime was somehow simpler, purer. There was no trace of that malicious stubbornness and irritation in him. Besides, Boruto was talented and self-confident. He rarely got into ridiculous situations, while Naruto and Sarada's first meeting in this timeline spoke for itself. Sarada briefly imagined Boruto in Nanadaime's place, how she and Mitsuki would be dragging him home stunned from a mission, and she found it funny.
"What are you laughing at, nēē-chan?"
Sarada met Naruto's gaze, saw his curious blue eyes, and blushed:
"Nothing. Sorry."
They tried to act casually, like before, but something was getting in the way. The awkwardness in their conversation wouldn't go away. There was nothing to talk about. Sarada couldn't pour her soul out to Naruto like she used to, because back then it was silly doubts like "It seems Michi hates me," but now... Too much darkness. Too much pain in her heart. She didn't want to remember it, didn't want to share it. She didn't want to taint the bright boy who looked at her with the same innocent adoration as six years ago. For a child, it was forgivable, but for a twelve-year-old boy—it was a bit strange.
Sarada tucked the strands of hair the wind was blowing into her face behind her ears. The gust was fresh and sharp. The sky over the Hokage Rock had darkened.
"Sarada-chan... Are you going to take the Chunin exams?"
Is it going to rain?
In all the time she'd lived in this era, it hadn't rained once.
"Nēē-chan?" Naruto called.
"No. How could I? I..."
Sarada wanted to say she had no team, but she remembered the conversation between Sasuke and Shisui. Naruto and Sakura didn't know that the exam had to be taken in a trio and no other way. Shisui had warned Sasuke not to pressure Sakura, but if Naruto found out his chance at the exam depended on his teammate, he'd tear her soul out.
And Shisui-san would finish me off. He only threatens, but it seems he wasn't joking with Dad at all.
"...no one to recommend me. I don't have a mentor."
"Maybe Kakashi-sensei will recommend you?"
"He's not my mentor," Sarada drawled boredly. "Besides, I'm not ready yet. I need time."
"Not ready? But I saw you fight, ttebayo! You're not inferior to Sasuke. You'd definitely pass!"
"Naruto," Sarada repeated patiently. "I feel like: it's not my place there right now."
Of course it's not my place. This is my parents' youth. Everything has to happen without my involvement, and I'm already interfering too much in their lives.
The air smelled of freshness. The wind from the thunderstorm front brought the scent of rain to Konoha.
Returning from her walk, Sarada got caught in a downpour. She came home soaked to the bone and shivering, changed into dry clothes, and sat on the floor in Shisui's room by the glass door to the balcony with a hot cup of tea.
Good. It's been a long time since I've felt this good. I can just relax.
But I'm still a little worried about Mom and Dad. Shisui said the exam is no joke—you can die there. What if I changed something and now... Ugh. Enough thinking about it.
Drops ran down the glass door. The hot tea pleasantly burned, and the face of Uzumaki Naruto still lingered before her eyes. He'd livened up a bit and talked more, but he was still too nervous. Sitting alone on the floor in Shisui's room, Sarada finally grasped the elusive feeling that filled her heart with doubts and made her avoid meeting him.
I like him not as a... brother.
Sarada pressed the hot cup to her chest. It felt like she could literally see the world tilting off its axis: like she'd gone from an insignificant grain of sand to the center of gravity, and everything was gradually changing its trajectory, heading straight for her.
He has to fall in love not with me, but with Hinata-san. If that doesn't happen—Naruto and Hinata won't get married. They won't get married—there'll be no Boruto, no Himawari...
Fear gripped Sarada. Her actions in the past were threatening the lives of her friends in the future.
And the scariest part was that Sarada discovered in herself a desire to reciprocate Naruto's unspoken feelings, which he probably hadn't even admitted to himself. The child, the teenager, the man... All three appealed to Sarada in their own way. She greatly respected the Seventh and admired him. In every sense. He was strong and kind, attentive to her. When he was around, Sarada felt sunlight falling on her and that nothing in this world scared her anymore. But today, for the first time, she allowed herself to look at Naruto not as her friend's father and the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village, but as a life partner, and the temptation to walk the path with him hand in hand from genin to Hokage instead of Hinata proved even stronger than the desire to use Kanren again.
When it got dark outside, Sarada went out onto the balcony. What she felt in the evenings on the balcony, gazing at the dark Konoha dotted with sparse lights, couldn't be compared to anything.
Oneness.
That incredible sense of connection with everything around her wouldn't leave her head. Sarada tried to revive it, to artificially summon it again. She exposed her cheeks and neck to the fresh evening breeze, wanting to dissolve into it; to touch with her gaze, like fingertips, the rough plaster of buildings, to bury her hands in the wet foliage of trees like her own hair, to seep into a living trunk, to feel the flow of sap in it. To peer into windows, immerse herself in others' lives. To hear the beating of countless hearts of Konoha's residents. And one day Sarada realized she could imagine it in every detail even without Mangekyo Sharingan, her imagination had run so wild.
A smooth rustle sounded behind her—the glass door slid aside. Shisui silently approached and leaned on the railing.
"What, girl, surveying your future domain?"
Sarada blushed.
"What are you talking about?"
Shisui gave her a sly look. The wind ruffled his shaggy hair above his forehead protector.
"I remember you wanted to become Hokage."
"That was a long time ago..." she sighed. "I thought you were right. I probably never really wanted it."
"Really?"
Shisui thoughtfully gazed at the night village. Far away, lightning flashed over the Hokage faces in the dark sky, and distant thunder rumbled. The first wave of rain had drenched the village earlier in the day, and now a new thundercloud was approaching Konoha.
"Look at this village. Don't you feel it's your home? Imagine some force is trying to destroy the Leaf. Would you allow it?"
Sarada bit her lip. The memory of the sense of oneness she felt, mentally touching everything in her field of vision—from the tree under the balcony to the Hokage Rock itself—took her breath away. And Sarada vividly remembered her first hours in the past: Kyuubi's rage, destroyed houses and maimed people, nine orange tails. Panic fear had gripped her then, but now... After the night of the Uchiha clan's fall, the hellish pain and the abyss of Mangekyo Sharingan, an imaginary clash with the Fox no longer scared her as much. If a tragedy like the Kyuubi attack repeated now, her soul would swell with indignation. This village had only just been rebuilt, calmed down, its wounds scarred over. No one had the right to disturb the peace of the Hidden Leaf.
Shisui correctly interpreted her silence and said gently:
"That's what I thought."
Sarada cautiously glanced at him. He was still thoughtfully lost in the night Konoha and the flashes of the distant storm.
"Shisui-san, what about you... Did you never dream of becoming Hokage?"
He lowered his gaze to the balcony railing and smiled.
"I think every shinobi with the Will of Fire should aspire to it. And I've felt it in myself since childhood."
"Will of Fire..." Sarada murmured.
"Take care of Itachi's will?"—her father's voice echoed in her head.
"Hm?"
"Shisui-san, what is 'Itachi's will'?"
"What are you talking about, girl?"
Sarada fell silent. Shisui waited for an answer.
"I heard in the future Dad talking to someone about 'Itachi's will.' I didn't even know who that was then. Now I do, but I still don't understand what he meant. 'Itachi's will'—what is it, Shisui-san?"
Shisui gave a sad smirk.
"Itachi... Girl, you think I read his mind or something?"
"Well... I used to think so."
"I used to. But now everything's different. I can barely understand what's going on in his head. And we haven't seen each other since then."
A heaviness settled in her chest.
"Shisui-san... Who is that man? The Second."
"Didn't get it."
"The one who killed me."
"Anbu?"
"No. Earlier."
Shisui frowned.
"Don't think about it. It's not your concern."
"Why not mine?" Sarada exclaimed. "I can't stop thinking about it! I'm afraid of him. Him and Itachi. Every day I think about what will happen if we meet again..."
"Girl," Shisui replied harshly. "Right now, it's not your concern. As long as I'm alive, neither he nor the other will come near you. Neither you nor Sasuke."
"But what if..."
Sarada faltered. She wanted to say "if you die," but the thought that Shisui might suddenly be gone seemed so horrifying that she bit her tongue.