Twisted

Fire

Sarada sat, the sound of flowing water gently gurgling behind her, birds chirping in the forest around her, her tiny self nestled into Boruto's arms.

She didn't really know much about giving hugs, but she knew they were used to show appreciation and also affection, and right now, Sarada didn't know which one she was feeling stronger.

She never expected to come out of that cave alive. She never expected to regain consciousness. She never expected someone like Boruto to say things like that about her. But here she was, not knowing what to do with herself other than hug him because... Because she couldn't think of words to say.

And so, she sat as he gently played with her wet hair and she brought her hand up to his, and there was nothing but peace and relaxation. Until she remembered.

"Hey, Boruto," she said, lifting her head to the sting of cold against her face and across her chest. "What was that other thing... You wanted to tell me?"

A small breeze blew from the side and made her shiver. Boruto turned into the wind, then lifted his eyes towards the setting sun. "Let me find wood for a fire first... And then we'll talk about it."

She noticed, rather sadly, that he hadn't pushed her hair out of her face, and his tone seemed much more serious than it had been before. Perhaps this talk wasn't the kind of confession she envisioned it to be.

Thinking she should be of use as well, she got up and followed him, stooping down to gather sticks and twigs, especially the pesky ones that cracked under her feet. When they were all piled up in a mound on top of the soil, she realized something very significant to light a fire was missing.

"You don't happen to have any matches, do you?"

"Nope," he said, staring at the gathered pile of kindling. "I was hoping you'd magically pull some out of that basket of yours, but I suppose that was left behind at the cave. If I recall correctly... I mean." He cleared his throat. "I guess we gotta do this the old-fashioned way..."

Sarada watched as he picked up a rather thin stick and set it atop a log, then began twisting it back and forth with his hands. Over. And Over. And over again.

She didn't want to say that it wasn't going to get him anywhere. Not when he was the prince. But when he finally gave up and looked at the orange sky, his clothes soaked through, he hung his head in defeat. "Sorry... I don't think this is going to work."

"You... Do know what type of wood you're using, don't you?"

"Mm? Is that important?"

Prince or no prince, perhaps Boruto really was an idiot. Or maybe she was just more intelligent than the entire rest of the population.

Going back to the pile of kindling, she knew she felt the correct type of stick somewhere. It had little points that stabbed into her foot on the outside of it, and she had a specific grudge against that particular stick. But it was the thing that caused her to remember the section in one of her nature encyclopedias about building fires.

"Do you happen to know if there's any basswood or tulip poplar around?"

"...Last I checked there were moon flowers and day lilies and maybe some violets, but I haven't seen any tulips lately. Might be some bass in the pond though."

Sarada sighed. "I would love to educate you on how what you just said was incredibly fatuous, but I'm afraid even then you might not understand."

For some reason, this made the complicated look on his face soften into a gentle smile.

"Do you enjoy being insulted?"

His gaze lifted to hers. "As long as it's you that's doing the insulting."