Shadow Clones

It all started on Sarada's thirteenth birthday. She didn't even want to celebrate it, but doing nothing looked too suspicious.

Cho-Cho came inside first, throwing her arm around Sarada's shoulders, a smile on her face. Next came Himawari, presenting her with a handmade card. They all had cake, sang, and she put on a smile as she opened her presents. Treated her guests with respect.

But it wasn't the same.

Even Himawari seemed to pout, wondering why Kawaki didn't want to come when he'd been there every year. It was because Kawaki never once showed up to her birthday. He hadn't even been in the village for a full year.

The one they were missing was Boruto.

Even during the years when their relationship consisted of nothing but fighting, she found boxes on her balcony with anonymous tags that read 'happy birthday' and small simple gifts inside. At first, she thought they were from her father. But after asking both her mother and the idiot in question, she came to the realization. All of them were from Boruto.

That night, as she made her way back to her room, she sat on her bed. Flopped on her side. And a few tears dripped over the bridge of her nose and seeped into her white sheets.

She missed him so much more than she cared to admit. Even to herself. She constantly shut herself down, saying she didn't like him like that. She just missed her goofy childhood friend that annoyed her to no end and somehow found a way to make her laugh despite it all. But every single time someone mistook him for Kawaki... The desire to scream tore through her like a tornado.

It wasn't fair.

It was always him.

She just wanted him back. To go on a mission again and scold him for being an idiot. To see him smile at his little sister, blush through a romance movie and claim he didn't understand it. To tell her she was the one who was going to become hokage, to blink and find him standing in the way of her and imminent danger.

Forming her fingers into a cross, she whispered the name of his signature jutsu. A double of herself appeared at her side. What was the point? Imitating his jutsu just because she missed him... How desperate was she?

But just as she was about to dispel her clone, it did something of it's own will.

"Henge."

Sarada's eyes widened. She slowly picked herself up out of bed. Standing in front of her was no longer her double. It was a clone of Boruto... The twelve year old Boruto she missed so badly that she now wore a jacket similar to his, just to feel like she was wearing it.

"You shouldn't let yourself cry so much, ya know."

His voice. Tears spilled over her cheeks, throat tightening.

"Come'ere."

Sarada reluctantly crawled forward on her knees. And her clone, in the form of Boruto, wrapped his arms around her.

She managed to replicate everything. His scent. The pressure in his hands, the hardness of his chest.

And as tears continued spilling into his white cotton t-shirt, Sarada brought her arms up. And dug her fingers into his jacket.

Her clone sat there silently, running his fingers in a jellyfish like motion through her short hair as she sobbed.

But this wasn't Boruto. Boruto must've had a scar over his eye by now. He was probably taller. His look more worn, long shaggy hair like her fathers from lack of a barber to cut it.

Sarada pulled back, her hands on his chest, sniffling.

"Thanks... But I... Even though I miss him more than anything... I can't act like this..."