BORUSARA - Oneshots xx

A Text Away

Summary: Boruto is furious Sarada did not tell him she was sick. Despite her stubbornness, Boruto still successfully eases her illness away.

He was halfway out the door when his mother called him.

"Boruto!"

He stopped mid-step and turned to face his mother. "Yeah?"

She handed him a brown paper bag. "After your training, can you please bring this to Sarada? Sakura is still out on a mission, and I think Sarada's got the flu flying around."

His brows flew up. "Sarada's sick?" She didn't text me. She would have if she was. He was supposed to have training with his team, after all.

His mother nodded, "I bumped into her last night at the market. She wasn't looking so well."

He looked at his watch. It was only eight in the morning. Their agreed meeting time was in one hour. He was hoping to squeeze in some training alone beforehand.

Gingerly, he took the bag and nodded. "If she's sick, I might as well go check on her now."

Hinata smiled. She felt pride bubble in her chest. She had raised a good and caring son. "Could you?"

He grinned until his eyes disappeared. Whenever he smiled like this, he was the splitting image of his father. "Sure. See ya!"

He turned around and ran out the gate. After turning the corner, he jumped up on the nearest roof. He decided to delay texting Mitsuki and Konohamaru that Sarada was sick. Boruto wanted to check on her and see how serious it was first. There was no need to worry the other two if he could handle it. He opened the paper bag and spotted the bottle of cough syrup. He raised a brow before securing the bag closed. That's it? No food?

He decided to stop by the small tea house that Sarada frequented. He bought two cups of black tea, a tray of onigiri, and four sticks of dango. It's not the usual breakfast picks but Boruto recalled vividly these were what she would order after a particularly rough day. After paying, he checked his watch. It was already eight-twenty.

He jumped up on the roof and made his way to the Uchiha District. After five years of being on the same team with the Uchiha, Boruto had grown comfortable with the place. It was still quiet and fairly isolated, but ever since Sakura and Sarada moved in the place brightened up. He walked over to the main house.

It was automatic for him to walk to the right side of the house where Sarada's room was located. He barely ever went through the front door. Why bother, anyway? He smirked. It was so much better when she was the first face he would see. Before he could take another step, the front door opened.

It was the second time that day he stopped mid-step. His eyes widened as he took in Sarada's appearance. Her long dark hair was worn down, and unruly. Instead of wearing her usual sleeveless qipao shirt, she was wearing a loose red sweater. A pink face mask covered her nose and mouth. Her eyes looked flat and tired. In short—she was sporting the sick person look.

Boruto placed his foot down and approached her. "Oy!"

Sarada squinted her dark eyes. She already had a headache, but his loud voice was making her head pound even more. "Boruto? What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer her question. Instead, he chose to chastise her. "Baka! What are you doing? You look awful."

Her brows furrowed to the center and glared at him. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to training."

He rolled his eyes. She was being stubborn again.

Stupid Boruto. She thought. I'm fine. This is nothing. Sarada crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked to the side. Suddenly, she felt his hand come up to cup her cheek and jaw. She stood straight and turned to glare at him once again. How dare he touch me right after insulting me! Her anger dissolved the moment she saw the concern reflected in his clear blue eyes.