The gates of Konoha rose like a scar in the morning light, vast, unmoving, etched with the same timeworn grooves they'd always had. They were familiar in a way that made her chest ache.
Y/n stopped a few paces short of the entrance.
Her breath caught, not from exhaustion, but memory.
The scent of grilled fish curled in the breeze, mixing with warm earth and woodsmoke, the kind of fragrance that felt like summer evenings, old laughter, and the ghost of belonging.
Somewhere beyond those gates, life moved on. Children's laughter rang faintly in the distance, sharp and bright. She imagined them running through streets she once called her own.
But now... it all felt like someone else's life.
Mitsuki stood beside her, hands at his sides, silver eyes steady.
He didn't speak, didn't press her to move.
That was something she'd come to understand about him, he didn't fill silence with noise.
He listened to quiet things, the kind that trembled just beneath the skin. And right now, her silence said more than any words could.
"You don't have to go in yet," he said, his voice low, softer than the breeze. There was no pressure in it. Just knowing.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the towering gate, the carved grooves catching gold from the sun. "I do," she said, more to herself than him. Her voice was a whisper, threadbare and firm all at once. "We came this far. I'm not turning back."
"Then I'm with you."
It wasn't a promise. It was a fact, as simple as air.
She nodded once, sharp and small, and together, they stepped forward.
No one stopped them. No one looked twice.
The guards barely glanced at their documents.
Orochimaru's signature held more weight than either of their names. And maybe that was for the best.
They passed through the threshold unnoticed.
Two shadows swallowed by the sunlight.
And the village... hadn't changed.
Not in the ways that mattered.
The streets still held the uneven cobblestones she remembered tripping on.
Laundry lines hung between the rooftops like prayers strung across the sky.
The air buzzed with the low chatter of vendors, sizzling pans, and the rustle of sandals on worn stone.
Somewhere, someone called out a price for dango. A group of children chased each other past the alley. A breeze tugged gently at her sleeves, as if trying to pull her deeper into a life that no longer welcomed her.
She traced the familiar tilt of the rooftops with her eyes. The slant of sunlight as it fell between narrow buildings. She even recognised a worn crack in the brick where she once sat and shared a rice ball with...
Her throat tightened.
No one looked at her. No flicker of familiarity passed through the crowd.
Faces moved past her like waves against a rock, indifferent and unstoppable.
She was a ghost in her own village.
It should've felt like freedom.
But all it did was hurt.
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We're Different. | The Other Uchiha ✓ (Boruto)
FanfictionI was born an Uchiha. Raised by someone else. Forgotten by those who once knew me. In a village that never remembered my name, I chose to carve my own. A story about memory, belonging, and the pieces we can't erase, even when the world tries to. 𝐖�...
