Borusara Oneshots ❤❤❤

Waiting Through the Days

Trigger Warning!: This has some self-harm! If this is too much please skip chapter.

Sarada sat on the Hokage stone face of Naruto, her gaze fixed on the sprawling village below. The wind whispered through her hair as the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows over the Hidden Leaf. The world she once knew had been shattered, and the remnants of her reality weighed heavily on her shoulders.

It had been a good while since Boruto left with Sasuke, leaving a void in her life that seemed impossible to fill. The omnipotence cast had changed everything, twisting the world into something unfamiliar and unsettling. Shikamaru had been thrust into the role of temporary Hokage for nearly a year and a half now, trying his best to maintain order in a world that no longer felt right.

Sarada felt the weight of it all pressing down on her. When she wasn't training or out on missions, she often found herself sitting in quiet, under-appreciated places, seeking solace in the stillness of the moment. But even in the quiet, the echoes of her altered reality gnawed at her, a constant reminder of all that had been lost.

She absentmindedly rubbed her index finger and thumb together, a small flame flickering to life between them. She watched it dance, mesmerized by the way it moved—so fluid, so free. Fire had always fascinated her, the way it seemed to have a life of its own, flowing and shifting like a living being. It was unpredictable, powerful, yet delicate, capable of both creation and destruction. "Don't do it" she ordered herself. She sat there holding the small flame while looking at the village.

A moment of realization struck her. "Shoot," Sarada muttered as she extinguished the small flame and quickly stood up. She glanced at the setting sun and realized how much time had passed. "I was supposed to be home to make Mama dinner."

With a burst of urgency, she made her way down the mountain, her steps quickening as she approached her home. She darted through the front door, the familiar scents of cooking wafting through the air.

Inside, Sakura was busy at the stove, her movements slow but deliberate. She heard the door open and turned to see Sarada entering. Her tired smile softened the lines of exhaustion on her face. "You're home! I made soup for the both of us. Where were you?"

Sarada took off her shoes and walked over to the table, her cheeks flushed from the sprint. "Mission—hey, wait, why are you cooking? I was supposed to cook for you, remember?" she said, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and affection.

Sakura rinsed the knife she had been using, her chuckle light and warm. "You took too long. Plus, I'm not useless after I work!" She wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face Sarada, her eyes softening. "And you've been looking so gloomy lately."

Sarada rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. She began setting the plates, her movements precise and deliberate. She loved how her mom was like her best friend, and how she could count on her to make he feel a little more sure of small situations.

They ate together quietly, and Sarada made her way to her room, wishing her mom a good night. She quietly closed the door behind her, and started breathing frantically. Could she tell I was sad? No... I don't think so. I'm good for now  She thought to herself, knowing her acting skills were able to fool her mother.

She sat on her bed with her legs crossed, her back straight as if trying to hold herself together physically. The room around her felt both familiar and distant, a reminder of how much had changed. The time seemed to blur together—fast in some ways, slow in others. It felt like she had just turned twelve, even though she was fourteen now. The memory of Boruto's absence seemed to stretch on endlessly, and the loss of the previous Hokage, Naruto, felt like a lifetime ago, though it had only been two years.