𝓟𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓻𝓾𝓲𝓽

'Alright Sarada, get yourself together and get out of here.' The Uchiha told herself as the wooden church door slammed shut behind her. It was pouring rain outside, but her current mood seemed to go well with the weather.

Sarada slid off the purple heels that Sumire had gifted her and grabbed them in her hand before making her way down the street, earning the attention of random strangers, hawkers and puddles.

Now drenched, the ravenette could care less about the fact that her clothes were soaked with water, so she decided to sit down on a park bench and try to piece together her life.

Sarada sat in silence with her head in her hands until she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Aah~” She flinched at the sudden contact and peered up to see a man standing under an umbrella.

“Are you okay, miss?” He asked concernedly, extending his arm out to place the umbrella over her.

“Not particularly, no.” Sarada said flatly as the man took a seat beside her.

“Care to share?” He inquired, locking eyes with her.

“No, it’s nothing. You don’t need to worry about me.” She grumbled sourly, gazing down at her feet which were covered in mud.

“Come on, my dear child …” The older gentleman began as he handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. “I had my fair-share of heartbreaks, I know when something is wrong. And if you don’t want to share because you feel you’ll be a bother, trust me. You’re not any trouble, really. I want to try to help.”

Her lips curved into a barely perceptible smile as she grabbed the handkerchief from his hand and dabbed her eyes, leaving black mascara marks on it. “It’s a long story ...” Sarada said as she glanced up to meet him staring intently at her. 

His face was caring, he had long, pronounced tear-troughs under his dark eyes and his hair was jet-black similar to hers that was pulled back in a low ponytail. He reminded her so much of her late uncle Itachi who had passed away. He even had the same loving smile as he did. “I have time.” He said softly.

And so, she told him. Sarada spoke about everything she & Boruto had endured and the secrets they shared. She poured out her heart to the raven-haired man and he sat there, eyes peeled and focused on every word she spoke. Not once did he move his dark irises from hers.

A sense of comfort made its way through her body, it felt good. But as she approached the more current events, she felt her heart fall deep into her chest again. “I’ve been in love with him ever since I laid eyes on him. His sweet, caring nature, his cute smile with dimples in his cheeks and plumpness of his pink lips.”

Sarada took a brief pause as she sat and thought of all his beautiful features. “His mannerism is just like papa’s but sometimes his face would light up whenever he would talk about something he loved. Everything.I fell for it all, but he never fell for me. My best friend Sumire recently confessed her love to him and things moved quickly between them both and in a blink of an eye, he was engaged. I tried to be happy for him, I really did, but it didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right after that.” She finished as tears welled up in her eyes making it hard to see.

The Uchiha gently patted her eyes with the handkerchief again and her uncle asked, “Why didn’t you tell him how you felt?”

A flat chuckle left her lips as she replied, “I-I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that a thousand times and I never could find an answer for why. It’s too late anyways, he’s probably married to her now.” Sarada whispered the last words as she felt her already broken heart shatter into dust.

“It’s never too late to tell someone how you feel about them. Never. You can try to convince yourself that it is all you want, but there is never a point where it’s too late.” Itachi said soothingly, his obsidian eyes fixed on her. “Go find that boy. Find that boy and tell him exactly what you told me. I know right now you’re probably questioning me, but don’t let him slip from your grip. For all you know he could be marrying this girl to try to move on from you. Hell, maybe he loves you, but he felt you didn’t love him so he’s trying to move on. The only way to find out is to tell him.” Her precious uncle poured his heart out to her as he gazed up at the sky, the rain had stopped. He grabbed his umbrella and shook it out and then closed it before tucking it under his arm. “Well,” He began to speak, then stood up from the park bench. “I hope I could be of help.”

“You’re leaving?” Sarada sniffled in a sad voice and squeezed a bit of the fabric of her dress to get the water out.

“I’m afraid so, tell me how it goes Sarada ...”

The Uchiha sat there silent for a minute as he began to walk away not realizing she never told him her name.

“Wait!” Sarada exclaimed suddenly, “Wait, how do you know my name?” She called desperately, but he simply disappeared into the crowded street, leaving her alone. 

The obnoxious ring of her alarm began to wail through her bedroom causing her to wince and drop a loosely curled fist onto the snooze button. “Ugh …” Sarada groaned at the thought until she began to remember what had just happened.

'The wedding. Wait!’  She mentally paused and quickly sat up in bed, observing her surroundings through blurry vision. ‘What the hell? What happened to Uncle Itachi and the park?’ She thought which confused her even more. Her hand felt around on her night table as she grabbed her frameless glasses and put them on to see the calendar on the wall. The date showed March 26, the day before Boruto's wedding and birthday.

“Oh my god.” Sarada said aloud as she reached under her pillows and pulled out Boruto’s childhood pink jacket, rubbing her face into the beloved apparel. His familiar scent always drove her wild and today was no exception. She threw the rose duvet off of her and ran into the bathroom, readying herself before coming out to summon Pakkun.

“Why ha-“ She cut the small brown pug off and handed him Bolt’s jacket to sniff. This particular ninja hound was a gift from Kakashi sensei who had incredibly sharp sense of smell, even by canine standards. He can regularly determine what type of scent he is picking up, how far away it is, and how dangerous the person is.

“Oh, Boruto again …” Pakkun heaved a deep sigh, already picking up the Uchiha’s strong feminine pheromones in the air, her need to mate with this blond boy was clear as day, feral even. “Follow me, girl.”

Meanwhile, several miles away, a purple-haired girl stood on a tree branch, her dress fluttering softly in the morning breeze. She closely watched Boruto swinging the axe down with precision, cleanly splitting a log, the two halves tumbling down the chopping block. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and the pretty karmic mark on his chest was visible through the loosely laced front. The sun shone on him and the scientist could see droplets of sweat gleaming on his forehead. “I finally found you, Boruto-kun …”