Chapter Text
“You’re kidding, right?” Boruto asked.
His dad gave him a sympathetic look. “Come on, Boruto. It’s shouldn’t take too long, you’ll be back before you know it.”
“But it’s Wednesday! That only gives us four days to do it all, that’s not enough time!” Boruto protested.
“Oh stop it,” Sarada snapped. Boruto shot her a glare. “We’ve been given a mission,” she continued primly. “We have to do it. End. Of.”
Boruto glared at her. Sarada glared right back. Suddenly a hand was on each of their shoulders, gently pushing them apart. Moving to stand between them was Konohamaru, a strained, peacemaking expression on his face.
“Come on, guys. It won’t take long. It’s an easy mission, consider it something to keep you occupied, okay?” He insisted.
Sarada and Mitsuki nodded quickly. Boruto scowled.
His dad dismissed them, and they all headed to leave, Boruto trailing behind.
“Boruto?” His dad called out.
“What?”
“Be careful, okay? Do a good job and I’ll take you out to eat Sunday, okay?” His dad said, flashing him a grin.
After a split second, Boruto mirrored it. “Yeah, whatever old man.”
And then he was out the door.
…
Sunday was always lazy day in the Uzumaki house.
It was the weekend, so Himawari would be out of the academy. His mom always made sure to be off the mission roster. And his dad always caused hell to be able to do his work at home.
It was tradition. And Boruto loved it.
He knew his dad often pulled strings to make sure he wasn’t on missions on Sundays, and he appreciated that. Lazy Sundays were an Uzumaki thing, and he counted down the days of the week until they occurred. Looked forward to them.
That was why he hated this weekend. They were supposed to get back to Konoha yesterday, but their bastard of a client had given them bad directions and they’d gone wildly off course. As a result, they were now stuck trekking through The Land Of Rain.
It sucked. It was pouring rain, all the time, and Boruto was completely soaked to the bone in under half an hour. Based on the curious looks Mitsuki shot him every couple minutes, his scowl was perpetual.
It was starting to get dark already, and Boruto stared upwards with a groan, brushing his fringe out of his eyes and squinting at the weak sunlight dappling through the trees. He was tired, and he wanted to sit down. But at the same time, it was Saturday night. He really didn’t want to miss Sunday. But by the looks of things, even if they walked all night they probably would anyway.
Finally, Konohamaru called to set up camp. Sarada looked like she could have keeled over with delight, and Boruto failed to cover a snicker, earning him a clump of mud thrown at his face which he only half dodged. Konohamaru had yelled at them before they could start a fight.
…
So now here they were, sat around a weak campfire splitting soldier rations that tasted like grass, rain having finally subsided. Brilliant.
Even Konohamaru looked tired, crease vivid between his eyebrows. He must’ve noticed Boruto staring, and he smiled.
“Sorry it’s taken so long everyone, we should be back in Konoha around midday tomorrow,” Konohamaru murmured, wincing at the cacophony of groans and complaints at his words.
The client, Mr Morikoshi, stayed quiet, a small smile on his face. Boruto grimaced. He didn’t like Mr Morikoshi. He seemed like a slimy bastard, though he didn’t voice his thoughts aloud lest he get a smack up the head from Konohamaru.
Instead, Boruto forced another mouthful of rations, washing it down with water in an attempt to force back his gag reflex.
“Now,” Konohamaru spoke up again. Boruto, Mitsuki and Sarada all glanced over. “I don’t particularly trust the Land of Rain so much, so I suggest we take shifts. We’ll split the night into four, two hour shifts each. Who wants what?”
None of them spoke, silently eyeing (or in Boruto and Sarada’s case, glaring) at each other. They all hated shifts, and whoever would have the middle two shifts got the shittiest sleep. Ideally, first and last were the best shifts. Boruto thought Konohamaru was being stupid. He knew how they were, and such a question would just start a fight. Konohamaru seemed to realise this, and sighed heavily.
“Fine. Sarada, you take the first shift, I’ll take the second, Boruto, you take the third,” oh for fucks sake “and Mitsuki you take the last. Everyone ok with that?”
Boruto certainly wasn’t, but the exasperated look on Konohamaru’s face convinced him to keep his mouth shut. They all nodded, though Sarada and Mitsuki a little more invigorated than Boruto.
Konohamaru pushed himself to his feet, walking over to the small tent they’d set up for the team. The client had his own, the lucky bastard. Boruto wasn’t looking forward to sharing a tent with Mitsuki. The boy slept with his eyes open, and it creeped him out.
Nonetheless he headed over, not bothering to take of his clothes. They’d dried - mostly - while he sat by the fire, so it’d be fine. Probably. Besides, he didn’t want to waste time getting changed. He needed all the sleep he could get.
He collapsed down into his sleeping bag, eventually conceding to face the tent wall so he didn’t have to look at Mitsuki. He still felt like he could feel his eyes boring into his back though. He tucked an arm underneath his head as a pillow, making a few futile attempts to get comfortable. He gave up after a little while, lying uncomfortably on his back and staring glumly at the ceiling of the tent.
Before long, he heard the tent zipper come open, and Sarada slipped inside. For a minute Boruto was confused, then saw her nudge Konohamaru. He barely suppressed a groan. Two hours already. Wasted.
Konohamaru and Sarada switched places, Sarada letting out a muffled yawn before going completely still, the sound of soft breathing filling the tent. Lucky. He shuffled to see his watch, staring at it. Midnight, already. He sighed, rolling back onto his side. He glared at the watch, counting the seconds that passed in the hopes it’d help him sleep. It didn’t feel like it was working.
…
Boruto’s eyes snapped open, and he blearily rolled over to see Konohamaru standing over him with a tired smile.
“Your turn, kiddo,” he mumbled.
Boruto sat up, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. He glanced at his watch. 2 am. He had managed to fall asleep then. Great, two hours of sleep. Great achievement, Boruto Uzumaki.
With a groan, he pushed himself upright, stumbling out of the tent and dragging his boots on. It wasn’t raining still (thank god), but the fire was almost dead. Boruto headed over to it, poking at it with a stick as his breath misted in front of his face. It was freezing. He’d managed to fully dry inside the tent which he was grateful for, but dryness didn’t stave off the cold.
He pulled his jacket closer around him, letting his eyes fade lavender and quickly glancing around. Nope. No murderers, rogue shinobi, monsters, giant centipedes. They were all good. His eyes returned to their blue, and Boruto sat back on the grass leaning back against his hands. Two hours to kill. But doing what?
Boruto leaned forward again, starting to fiddle with the loose laces on his boots. He started to tie them, staring absent mindedly at the fire. It was barely embers now, the only light source in the whole camp. The darkness around the edges of the campfire made Boruto uneasy, and he inched a little closer to the light. He tucked his knees up to his chest, staring at the now barely smoking timber. It would go out soon. He supposed he should probably go back to the tent and grab his torch from his pack.
He stared at the fire for a couple more seconds before pushing himself to his feet, heading over to the tent. He quietly unzipped it, wincing as it caught on the fabric. But none of his teammates stirred, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He reached inside, snatching his pack before closing the tent and heading back over to the fire. He pulled open the drawstrings, rifling through for his torch. The fire was pretty much completely dead by that point, so he was relying on touch alone while straining to scan around him for anything. He found his torch at the very bottom of his bag, clicking it on and swinging it around.
Nothing.
His cheeks reddened. Why the hell was he being so paranoid? Sarada would probably laugh at him if she saw what he was doing. Well, screw Sarada anyway. He dropped his pack down to the ground and leaned back against it, flickering his torch and making shadow puppets to keep himself occupied. It was boring, but just sitting there was worse.
Suddenly, he heard a branch snap behind him.
He swung round, Byakugan flaring to life, torch swinging round. His shoulders once tense, slumped and relaxed. It was just Mr Morikoshi. Boruto laughed lightly.
“Scared me there. Thought you were a… uh…” he trailed off, glancing away.
Mr Morikoshi gave a thin smile, and didn’t respond. Boruto’s smile suddenly felt forced. He turned back to the dead fire. Creep.
“What’re you doing up? We’re not leaving for like… another four or five hours ya know. You can go back to sleep if you want.” Boruto mutters, digging his kunai into the ground, twisting it about to make a hole. He scraped the dirt back into the hole, then did it again.
Then he blinked. No answer. “Mr Morikoshi?” He said again. Still nothing.
He pushed himself up, pivoting to see where Morikoshi had gone. Back to his tent, maybe? But just as he turned around, something cold and pressed against the side of his neck, two points and a curve in the middle. Before he could even begin to think what it was or process the fact someone had snuck up on him, a jolt of electricity shot through his whole body.
The pain was unbearable. The shock seemed to last minutes, though it was probably only a couple of seconds. Then the plastic was pulled away, and Boruto dropped to the ground, coughing and gasping. A taser. He just got fucking tased. He tried to push himself up, but his muscles were spasming and not working properly. He started to panic. This wasn’t good.
“One shock not enough, huh?” He heard a voice from above him. It sounded muddled, he could barely make it out.
Before he knew it, the taser was pressed against the back of his neck again, and a second jolt passed through his body. This time, he blacked out after only a few seconds.
…
Sarada yawned heavily, wincing as she felt her jaw click. She massaged the edge of it, blinking blearily. She wondered why Mitsuki hadn’t woken them up yet, and considered it was just her luck to wake up before she was required to.
But then she saw Mitsuki still asleep in the tent.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she glanced at her watch. Seven AM, and based on the light seeping under the tent flap the sun was long since risen. If Mitsuki was here, did that mean Boruto hadn’t woken him up to switch watch? Why not? Was he trying to be selfless and give Mitsuki more sleep, or had he just fallen asleep whilst on watch? Sarada sighed. She knew it was most likely the second.
She nudged Konohamaru and Mitsuki, muttering to them to wake up and the sun was up. Mitsuki and Konohamaru looked at her confusedly, though Konohamaru looked more “half asleep and not processing her words” kind of confused, compared to Mitsuki’s “I’m very awake now what are you on about”.
“Did Boruto not wake you up?” Sarada asked. Mitsuki shook his head, and Konohamaru groaned.
“Damn kid… what’s he doing now?” Konohamaru mumbled.
Sarada sidestepped out of his way as he stumbled out of the tent, and she and Mitsuki quickly followed him. Sarada went to open her mouth, ready to yell at Boruto for falling asleep or something. But then she saw the look on Konohamaru’s face.
For a second, she was confused. But then she glanced around their makeshift campsite, grass wet from the dew, and realised what was wrong.
Mr Morikoshi’s tent was gone, so was his cart. And so was Boruto.
Boruto’s kit was still by the campsite, pack open and knocked over, contents strewn across the ground. His torch lay a little away from the rest, light still shining, screen speckled with early morning dew. The drag marks in the wet ground leading from the campfire over to where Mr Morikoshi’s cart had been last night.
Konohamaru had gone very pale and very still. Sarada turned slowly to look at him, his expression unreadable. “S- sensei? What are we… what are we going to do?” She was ashamed of the stammer in her voice, but she couldn’t force it down.
Konohamaru swallowed thickly, still not looking at them. “We go back to Konoha. Now.”