The Unfortunate Events of BoruSara

his sensei

It was eleven in the evening and she still wasn't home.

Boruto let out a long and tired sigh, watching the small puff of smoke that came out of his mouth and into the winter night air. The sight of it reminded him of the possibility that she could be out there right now, lighting a cigarette or drinking in a club. Maybe she was dancing with her friends, maybe she was shopping, or maybe even worst: she finally met a guy her age and already taking him to bed.

Boruto shook his head, getting rid of the thoughts. He didn't like the idea of another man, but he knew it wasn't impossible either. He took out his phone and checked the time again, watching the clock turn 11:01.

He should be at home right now and not waiting for a girl outside her apartment. His mother was worried sick, and her sister has been trying to call and text him again and again, asking where he is and when was he coming home. He sent an excuse that he was in Shikadai's house and planned to stay overnight. His sister knew he was lying, but she understood. She knew what was going on. Now, if only the actual girl he was waiting for replied to his texts as well.

Just one more hour...

Boruto rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the sleepiness that started to crept in.

One more hour.

One more hour and I'll head home.

"Boruto?"

His eyes snapped open and he stood up from sitting on the floor. She was wearing the same outfit she wore to school today, covered by a winter jacket and the scarf he gave her a few months back. Her cheeks were tinted red from the cold and her eyes didn't even look slightly surprise to see him there.

He tried to stop it, tried to put on a mask, but he couldn't help it at all. His lips curled into a grin, lips shaking from the cold yet so glad to finally see her.

"Sarada." Her name in his mouth was soft, alluring, calling out his desperation in the winter air.

"It's Sarada-sensei to you." She snapped back, shoving his leaning body off the door of her apartment. "Its one o'clock. You should be at home right now."

"Sorry." He whispered, studying her from head to toe to search any clues of where she had been while she rummaged through her bag for her keys. "I just really wanted to see you tonight."

"We see each other everyday at school." She said, finally taking out her keys out of her bag and opening the aparment door. She stepped inside, but then stopped and turned her head. "Go home, Boruto."

"Can't I stay tonight?"

"No." Her voice was laced with strong authority, the voice she used as a teacher. "Not anymore."

Boruto already knew what she was about to do. She's done it countless times. Always shutting him out. His hand caught the door before she closed it and pushed himself inside, turning the lock behind him with a click.

"Please," His voice whispered. "Just for tonight." 

There was a pregnant silence in the dark room, their eyes staring right at each other in a silent battle.

Until Sarada looked away and let out a sigh, "Fine," She gave in, turning her back on him to walk to the kitchen. "Turn on the lights."

A smile curled in his lips.

"But you're taking the couch."

He frowned.

After he turned on the light switch, Boruto took off his shoes and left his schoolbag on the floor. He walked to the kitchen to see Sarada preparing herself dinner.

"If you're going to complain about the couch, get out."

"But—"

"Get out."

"I was going to say I haven't eaten dinner yet."

After Sarada prepared another plate for him, they sat together as they eat their meals. There was only the clanking of plates and the clicking of chopsticks and the thick tension between them. Boruto hated it.

Right now, he would do anything to go back to yesterday. Because yesterday, he slept in and woke up in her bed with a smile. He ate breakfast and watched TV in the very same room, laughing and talking with her, and they walked out of the same building before splitting their ways to get to school.

Until that one mistake that same day.

Boruto put down his empty bowl of rice and his chopsticks on the table, before looking up at Sarada. He tried to urge her to look back at him with his stare, but she continued to ignore him while she ate her meal.

"I rejected her, ya' know." Boruto started, leaning his elbow on the table and scratching the back of his neck, never leaving his eyes off of her, "What you saw this morning, I didn't start it."

She was still chewing on her rice.

"I never thought of her that way. You know that," His voice was turning desperate. "You know that more than anyone."

Chew, chew, chew.

"Sarada, please—"

"Sarada-sensei." She spoke, eyes finally staring right back at him. "You're calling me Sarada-sensei from now on."

"Haven't we passed that already?"

"Look," She slammed her bowl on the table. "This was a mistake."

Boruto choked.

"This was a mistake from the start and I shouldn't have respond to your motives."

"You don't mean that," Boruto was frozen stiff. "You and I both know that we—"

Sarada was done talking. Standing up from her seat, she glared down at him. "You're sleeping here for the morning, wake up, and we go our seperate ways. Don't ever come back."

She didn't give him the chance to talk when she rushed to her bedroom and locked the door, leaving the empty dishes for a silent crying Boruto to clean.

The next morning, Sarada woke up earlier than Boruto and left her apartment. She had stared at his face with dark circles as he slept on the couch and dashed right out of there.

Boruto woke up and wasn't surprise to see the room empty. She didn't even prepare him breakfast. But the dirty dishes in the sink told him that she cooked for herself.

After cleaning her apartment, Boruto put on his shoes and grabbed his backpack off the floor. He placed a piece of paper on the counter where he knew Sarada would find it.

One more year and I'm gradauting.