We're Different. | The Other Uchiha ✓ (Boruto)

A Glimpse Through Glass

It had been a month since Y/n Uzumaki stepped back into the village. Four weeks of walking familiar streets like a stranger. Of waking up in a borrowed apartment. Four weeks of silence.

Mitsuki had adapted easily, maybe a bit too easily. He went to school daily with a quiet smile, returned home talking about Boruto and their classmates, and sometimes even stayed out for dinner at Naruto's.

Y/n, on the other hand, drifted through the days like a ghost. Watching. Waiting. Measuring every breath she took.

- ☆ -

The early morning sun lit the dust of the school's training yard. The students moved around in casual pairs, stretching and yawning. The usual hum of energy echoed off the walls.

"Today we'll be running controlled spars," Shino announced, his voice muffled by his high collared coat. "I'll be pairing you based on last week's performance."

Y/n stood toward the back of the group, arms crossed loosely, her hair tied high, her chakra was as still as her face.

"Y/n, you're with Sarada." He announced.

She could already feel Sarada's eyes on her.

A few of the students reacted, not with surprise, but with interest, especially Boruto. He was already watching.

Mitsuki's gaze flicked between the two girls, unreadable. Even Chocho glanced toward Sarada with mild concern.

They stepped into the circle. The space around them seemed to widen as students stepped back, sensing something heavier than a casual spar.

Y/n stepped forward without hesitation, her posture calm, eyes half-lidded with something unreadable.

Sarada rolled her shoulders once, Sharingan inactive, for now at least. Her chin lifted, tension already crackling beneath her skin like a coiled wire.

They faced each other in silence.

Sarada cracked her knuckles. "Don't hold back."

"I never do," Y/n replied.

Their teacher gave the signal. "Begin."

Sarada struck first, fast, and calculated, her kunai glinted as it slashed through the air, aimed directly for Y/n's shoulder.

Y/n sidestepped with precision, barely shifting her weight as the blade missed by inches. She didn't draw a weapon; she didn't need to. Yet Sarada slows down.

She spun low, followed by sweeping her leg to knock her off balance. Y/n read the motion, lifted herself with a quick hop, and flipped backward into a crouch. Dust scattered beneath her feet. Her fingers brushed the earth for balance, yet her eyes never left Sarada.

The spar had only just begun, but the edge in the air was unmistakable.

Sarada lunged again, this time feinting high before driving her elbow toward Y/n's ribs. Y/n parried with the side of her forearm, then countered with a swift palm to Sarada's chest that made her stumble back a step.

"You're hiding something," Sarada said, voice clipped, her chest rising and falling. She didn't wait for an answer, she dashed in again, this time faster. Y/n caught her wrist mid-air, twisted, and drove her back with a flat palm strike. "You're obsessed," Y/n replied, her tone low.

Sarada hissed, eyes flashing. "You act like you know everyone's secret, but no one knows a damn thing about you." The Sharingan ignited in her eyes. One tomoe, glowing red.

Y/n didn't flinch, but her fingers tightened slightly. Her stance shifted, more defensive, shoulders coiled like a spring.

"You don't belong in Konoha," Sarada said, her chakra flaring as she rushed in.