7:46 P.M.
“Are you serious? Right before we were about to beat the next boss.”
Boruto Uzumaki stood at the door of his bedroom, helplessly flipping the light switch on and off.
“It’s no use, it looks like the power is out in the whole village,” Shikadai Nara responded.
“What could’ve caused it? The whole city going dark like this,” Inojin Yamanaka asked as he spun around mindlessly in Boruto’s desk chair. “An attack on the village, maybe?”
Boruto groaned loudly as he returned back to his bed, stretching out so that his head hung upside down off its edge. He clutched his gaming device in both hands, uselessly pressing its power button to no avail.
“No, I don’t think so. I feel like we would’ve heard from someone by now. I think we’re just unlucky.”
The three boys sat in silence as they plotted their next move. Not a word was exchanged between them, but Boruto could tell from their faces that they were all thinking the same thing. It was a hot summer night, they all had nowhere to be, and they couldn’t let the fun end like this. It was at that moment that a spark of realization streaked through Boruto, causing the boy to launch himself off of his bed toward his closed closet.
“I’ve got it! I know exactly what we should do.”
He threw open the closet door and began to rummage through piles of clothes and miscellaneous toys he hadn’t touched in years. Finally, he pulled out a heavy brown paper bag filled to the brim with…
“Fireworks?” Shikadai asked, his face wary with suspicion. “What are we gonna do with those?”
“Set them off from the Great Stone Faces, that’s what,” Boruto responded excitedly.
“And while we’re at it, we’ll invite some of the others to join us. Cho-Cho, Mitsuki, Iwabee and his team, maybe even Sarada-”
“You really think Sarada would want to do something as stupid as set off a bunch of fireworks on the Hokages’ faces?” Inojin interrupted.
“Ya, and where did you even get those anyway?” Shikadai added.
Boruto glared back at them, “I held onto some from the last festival. And Sarada’s into fun things like that sometimes, ya know? I can convince her, don’t worry about it. So, are you guys in or what?”
Inojin and Shikadai exchanged unconvinced looks at each other before both sighing in defeat.
“Ya, alright. I have to admit that a big get-together with everyone would be kinda cool,” Shikadai conceded.
“Great! Then you two are in charge of rounding up Cho-Cho, Iwabee, Denki, and Metal. I’ll grab my team and meet you guys at the top of the mountain.”
Before the two could protest, Boruto was already out of the room with his large bag of fireworks in hand. He breezed past Hinata, who shouted something at him as he threw open the front door. He couldn’t quite make out her words but didn’t want to worry her so he barked out a quick, “Be back later, Mom!”, before sprinting down the pathway of the Uzumaki home and into the night.
His first stop was Mitsuki’s apartment. Despite the fact that it was significantly further away than Sarada’s was, Boruto knew that he had to ask Mitsuki first if he had any chance of convincing her. If he appealed to her alone, he knew that she would reduce his plans to childish nonsense and reject him outright. If Mitsuki was there, however, he believed that she would be more inclined to join them. She had a soft spot for her teammate and Boruto figured that the more people he had on board, the better the odds.
Navigating the streets of Konohagakure in the dark proved to be a bit of a challenge, as the only lights available shone from flashlights or from the full moon above. But, he eventually found his way to the plain door of Mitsuki’s apartment. He lifted his hand to knock but stopped after noticing a small slip of folded paper taped to the door. Boruto unfolded it and read its contents aloud:
“Off to visit my parent. Be back in the morning.
-Mitsuki”
The name was paired with a drawing of a small snake with its forked tongue sticking out of its mouth. It was a trademark of Mitsuki’s signature, a stand-in for his lack of surname.
“Come on Mitsuki, on tonight of all nights,” he groaned.
He placed the note back where he found it and stood in front of the door, thinking through his next move. If he didn’t have Mitsuki to back him up, then he was left with no other options. He would have to figure out a way to convince Sarada by himself. He took a deep breath and trotted off back toward the Old City.
8:32 P.M.
Sarada Uchiha lounged lazily on her apartment’s small sofa, a book draped over her lap as she yawned. The living room held a dreary darkness that was disrupted only by moonlight spilling in from the open window. She was admittedly startled when the power abruptly cut out, but she figured that it was just a surge and continued her leisurely activities undisturbed. Both of her parents were gone for the night, her mother at the hospital and her father on patrol around the outskirts of the city, so she spent the evening in quiet solitude. As the chaos of the blackout threw the city into a mild frenzy, she was grateful for her dark corner of the world. It was a sharp contrast to the hectic everyday life of a shinobi, and she liked it that way.
Just as she was about to consider moving to her bed for an early sleep, the relative peace of the apartment was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing not once, not twice, but four times. Sarada threw her head back in frustration and huffed. She knew exactly who it was after the second consecutive ring. She marched toward the door and opened it just enough to see her unwanted visitor.
“What do you want? Don’t you think it’s kinda late to be running around?” Sarada said through the crack of the half-open door.
“Late? It’s only 8 o’clock. I swear, sometimes you act older than my old man,” Boruto retorted, his face turned up in a slight sneer.
Sarada scoffed. “Whatever. If you don’t have anything important to say then goodnight.”
She moved to close the door, but Boruto threw out his hand to stop it right in time.
“Wait! I wanted to know if you want to hang out with us, me and the other teams I mean. We’re setting off fireworks at the top of the Great Stone Faces. I figured it would be a great time to do it, with the power being out and all.”
Sarada narrowed her eyes at the idea.
“Really. Where did you even get the fireworks?” she said, her voice dripping in judgment.
Boruto stared down at the paper bag clutched in his arms before looking up at her again.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Why does it matter? Just come with us, I know you’re not doing anything,” he pleaded.
“No, I wanted to stay in tonight. I’ve got the place to myself.”
Boruto’s face sank into a pout and, to Sarada’s chagrin, she realized that he wouldn’t give up so easily. After a moment, he turned around with a defiant step as he threw his nose up in the air.
“Fine, you can stay in. But, you should really think about what it could do to your reputation. I mean you do want to be Hokage, right? What are the others going to think when they find out that you didn’t want to participate in a community activity with them? That’s not good leader behavior.”
Sarada could feel her temper brewing as he spoke. Boruto was the only person in the world that could push her buttons in a way that could upend her entire day. His logic was idiotically flawed. A simple get together with friends had no bearing on her future prospects of becoming Hokage. But, she was no quitter and she couldn’t let Boruto have something to hold over her head.
She rolled her eyes and sighed, "You really are impossible, you know that?"
Boruto turned back around toward her, a beaming smile on his face. It was as if her words were the greatest compliment he could achieve.
"Ya, I know. So, you coming then?"
"Just for a little bit. But only because I want to catch up with everyone."
He threw a celebratory fist in the air, "Yes, alright! Then you can bring snacks and some blankets for everyone. I've gotta grab some stuff too, so I'll meet you up there."
"Wait, Boruto! Why do I have to…?"
But he was already off, running down the hallway of the apartment building. He stopped at the top step of the stairs, threw his head back, and yelled, "Thanks, Sarada!", before continuing out of sight. She frowned as she stared at the empty space he just left. It was going to be a long night.
9:02 P.M.
Boruto scratched his head as he looked down at the various fireworks spread out in front of him. He pondered which ones he should set off, what order he should set them off in, and when to do it. Too early in the night might be underwhelming, but too late might mean there won’t be as many people around to see it. There was also the issue of the power returning, which would surely put a dampen on the thrill of the display. He resolved to ask for some suggestions from the others when they arrived. He sat down on the rocky ground, overlooking the darkened Old City from high above its rooftops. Below him, the Great Stone Faces kept their watchful eyes fixed on the expanse ahead of them. He pondered, briefly, if he preferred the village in its current, natural state rather than the illuminated version he saw in his day-to-day. The moonlight danced around the streets in a way that seemed to enhance its simplicity and he wondered if it was closer to the way his father viewed it years earlier.
I wonder what he’s up to, Boruto thought.
His mind wandered to an image of Naruto as he paced back and forth in the dark Hokage’s office, stressing about a situation clearly beyond his control. Boruto knew, no doubt, that his father would find a way to beat himself up for the sudden loss of power. It would be like he walked down to the power station and flicked off the electricity himself. Although he would never admit it, he hoped that the fireworks might alleviate some of that stress from Naruto’s shoulders.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching behind him. He squinted into the dark and saw two figures slowly making their way toward the edge of the small patch of trees. He found it difficult to make out any details, but he could tell that one must be Naruto himself. A shock of blonde hair sat on the man’s head accompanied by the white and red Hokage robe that his father often wore around the village. He was about to call out a greeting, but something about the man caused him to hesitate. His hair was longer than his father’s and the Hokage cloak was slightly different than usual, boasting a pair of sleeves that made it look more like a coat than a cape. And who was the woman beside him? Her features were still fuzzy around the edges but her long, red hair was unmistakable even in the dark.
“Dad?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly off the stone wall.
As the two finally closed the distance, Boruto was struck with the sudden realization of the man’s identity. The picture hanging amongst the other Hokage in Naruto’s office and a similar one that watched over the Uzumaki dining room. There was no mistaking it. His eyes widened in surprise and his stomach dropped in a bout of fear. His mind raced with questions, and in his state of confusion, he barely comprehended the man bending down and extending his hand to him.
“Hey, slow down. No need to freak out.”
The man offered down a small smile, his eyes squinting to reveal crow’s feet gracing his already charming face. Boruto took his hand and was helped up to his feet in one quick tug. He took a deep breath and composed himself enough to offer the pair a response.
“You’re…you’re Grandpa Minato, right? You match the picture in the living room. But you can’t be, you’ve been…”
He trailed off, but his thought was quickly picked up by Minato.
“Dead? For a while? Yes, you’re quite right.”
Boruto nodded, his mouth slightly agape, as he turned next to the woman.
“Then, that would make you Grandma Kushina?”
Kushina huffed in playful protest.
“Grandma? Oh gosh, you’re making us sound ancient.”
Boruto continued to stare in stunned silence as she chuckled and placed a hand on Minato’s shoulder. He didn’t know much about his grandparents, only that they had both been instrumental to Naruto even after their deaths. He heard rumors that Minato somehow returned to life during the Fourth Great War and assisted in the Allied Shinobi Force’s victory, but he never really believed them. He was never one to indulge in things like that, but his eyes were starting to prove him wrong.
Kushina then bent over slightly, her hands on the tops of her knees, and smiled.
“So, what’s your name?” she asked.
“It’s Boruto. Boruto Uzumaki,” he responded in an unsteady voice.
Minato cocked his head, his face still beaming.
“Well, Boruto, it’s very nice to meet you,” he offered his hand out to shake but was quickly overpowered by his wife who drew Boruto into a tight embrace. She swayed back and forth as he struggled underneath her unexpectedly deadly grasp.
“Minato, you’re being too formal. He’s our grandson, he’s Naruto’s boy!”
“Please,” Boruto eked out. “You’re squishing me.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry.”
She released him from the hug and straightened out the front of her neat, green dress.
Minato laughed, “You’re going to kill him before we even get a chance to talk to him, honey.”
Boruto watched as the two exchanged a quick glance at each other before turning back to him. They seemed to be waiting for him to respond in any way that wasn’t utter shock. But how else was he to respond? He knew that the two had been dead for over thirty years now, killed by Kurama’s attack on the village. So, how could they be standing right in front of him? He felt Minato’s hand and Kushina’s suffocating embrace. This was no illusion.
“How are you guys here? How can this even happen?” Boruto asked.
Minato thought for a moment, his eyes turning upward as he pondered the question.
“Well, if I’m being entirely honest, I’m not sure. I’ve been resurrected once before using Orochimaru’s jutsu, but this is different. I think it’s just a temporary visit.”
“We just appeared here, and then we saw you. I think maybe we’re here for a reason, ya know?” Kushina added.
Boruto’s eyes lit up and for the first time during the entire interaction, a smile flashed across his face.
“Hey wait, you say that too?” he asked.
Kushina looked slightly surprised at his recognition.
“Oh, ya. It’s just an old habit of mine,” she said with a wave of dismissal.
“Now, it’s looking more like an Uzumaki tradition,” Minato jested.
Boruto felt his body relax, the tension flowing out of him the longer he spoke with the two strangers. He knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, especially since he was completely alone and without defense. But, he could sense not an ounce of animosity and the more he spoke with them, the less he could shake the feeling that he had somehow known them his entire life.
“You guys said you only had a little time here, right? So is there anything you wanna know? About what you’ve missed?” he asked.
Minato and Kushina exchanged looks before both nodding in unison.
Kushina was the first to speak up, “How is Naruto? Is he doing alright?”
“Oh, he’s doing great! He’s the Hokage now.”
Kushina and Minato’s smiles grew to grins as they flashed excited looks at each other. The latter turned back to his grandson, tears welling up in his eyes.
“So, he really did it? He’s really Hokage?” Minato asked, a hint of child-like pride in his voice.
“Like he wouldn’t be?” Kushina interjected. “He could do anything he set his mind to. He’s your boy, after all.”
Minato drank in the moment, before returning his attention to Boruto. He cleared his throat and put on a more authoritative tone.
“And what of the rest of the nations? What happened in the aftermath of the Great War?”
Boruto thought for a moment, wishing he paid more attention during his history lessons at the academy.
“Well, it’s been fifteen years since that ended. I think the nations are doing okay. They don’t fight the way they did in your time. Old Man Kakashi cleaned up the village a while ago. I think my teacher said something like he “improved the quality of life”,” he explained, adding air quotes around the unfamiliar phrase.
Minato’s eyes lit up. “Kakashi? You mean Kakashi became Hokage as well?”
“Ya, he’s the sixth Hokage. Dad’s the seventh.”
Kushina put a congratulatory hand on her husband's shoulder before adding, “And what about you?” Are you planning on following in your father’s footsteps?”
Boruto shook his head and flashed a toothy grin, “No, the whole Hokage thing isn’t for me. I’ve got a friend who’s already got that in the bag. I just wanna be an awesome shinobi.”
Before his grandparents could respond, the distant sound of voices and laughter began to rise from the steps of the cliffside.
“Oh, I think those are my friends. Come on! Let me introduce you to them,” Boruto said, grabbing both Kushina and Minato’s hands and gently pulling them toward the commotion.
Minato gave him a small, saddened smile before letting go of his hand and placing his own on Boruto’s head. He gave his hair a small tousle.
“We would love to, but I think it might be time for us to go,” Minato said.
Boruto turned around, a look of disappointment on his face, “But, you guys just got here. You haven’t even seen Dad or Himawari, my little sister. Don’t you want to?”
Kushina drew her grandson into a hug once more, placing a gentle hand on the back of his head.
“Of course we want to. But, we aren’t destined to stay here forever. It’s a miracle we even got this opportunity in the first place,” she said.
Minato joined in on the embrace and added, “You’re a good kid, Boruto. You’re going to be a great shinobi and a great man just like your father. And when we get to see each other again, you can tell us all about it. I promise.”
“Just know you’ve got people rooting for you, in this life and the next,” Kushina said, tears welling up in her eyes. “Tell your dad that we’re proud of him, and tell your sister that we’ll catch her next time.”
Boruto nodded, fighting back tears himself.
“I will.”
“We love you,” Minato said.
Boruto closed his eyes, taking in their gentle embrace. When he opened them again, the two were gone. The night bore down on him and he wondered if they were ever even there at all.
9:25 P.M.
Sarada struggled up the steps toward the top of the Great Stone Faces, her arms overflowing with bags, blankets, and foldable chairs. She didn’t know how she had managed to let Boruto leave her with the bulk of the night’s responsibility, but she had no intention of letting her friends down. Every few steps, a new item would find its way out of her hands and onto the ground. First it was a blanket, then one of the chairs, and halfway up the staircase it was a bottle of soda that crashed out of a plastic bag and down the steps below. She groaned in frustration, whipping around to assess the damage, when she was met with an unexpected sight. The bottle hadn’t rolled to its demise down the endless flight of stairs, and it instead had found itself stopped at someone’s feet. She looked up and saw that the helpful stranger was an unfamiliar man. He was tall, with broad shoulders and long, dark hair drawn back in a low ponytail. His kind, brown eyes were accented by deep stress lines that flanked either side of his nose.
The man bent down to pick up the bottle and ascended the last few steps separating them. He reached out and returned the bottle to the bag before offering Sarada a slight smile.
“Would you like some help with that? It looks like a lot for one person to carry.”
His voice was deep and soft and carried with it a certain air of familiarity that Sarada couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“Oh, sure. Thank you.”
The man moved to grab the foldable chairs off of her shoulders, slinging them easily over his own. He then took some of the miscellaneous bags and blankets out of her arms and started up the stairs. She followed, watching him carefully as he climbed ahead of her. After a moment, he halted so that she could catch up with him and continued alongside her.
“You’re a lifesaver. I don’t think I was going to make it up to the Faces without breaking something,” Sarada said.
“It’s not a problem. What’s the occasion, if you don’t mind me asking?” he responded.
“Oh, just an improvised party with my friends. It was someone else’s idea, but as you can tell it wasn’t very planned out.”
"I see."
They continued in silence, careful not to misstep in the enveloping darkness of the powerless city. Sarada took occasional glances at the stranger as she tried to piece together his identity. She wondered if she saw him while in town. A person that she met once and would maybe never see again. But, the sensation that he was somehow more familiar than that seemed to prove the theory wrong. She was about to ask his name when he suddenly stopped his ascent up the stairs. She watched as he stared thoughtfully out at the village below, a smile persisting on his face.
"What's your name?" he asked, turning his sharp eyes toward her.
"Sarada," she responded.
"Sarada," he repeated with a sense of feigned disinterest. "I've been away from the village for a long time. Do you think you could maybe fill me in on some things?"
She nodded, "Sure, what do you want to know?"
As the two resumed up the steps, Sarada answered a myriad of questions regarding the state of the shinobi world. Who the current Hokage was, how many years it had been since the last Great War, the condition of the rest of the Great Nations. She found it odd that someone could go so long without knowing any basic knowledge about world affairs, but it was certainly not impossible. The lands outside of the villages were vast, and any number of scenarios could result in him being so uninformed.
“And what about you, are you a shinobi?” he asked.
The question caught her off guard, “Oh, ya. I’m a genin.”
He nodded. “Tell me, then, what do you want to achieve in your life as a shinobi?”
She thought for a moment, hesitant to react to such a personal question.
“I want to protect the peace that Lord Seventh and my dad fought so hard to create. To me, that means being Hokage one day.”
She broke off her words with a slight chuckle.
“I know that probably sounds ridiculous.”
“No, not at all,” he responded quickly. “Never lose that ambition. There’s a reason that anyone can be Hokage. Every shinobi has the capability of taking the title, that includes you. It’s hard work and dedication that ultimately decides it.”
His wise words seemed to wrap around her, ringing in her head like a bell. They were idealistic yet she felt that believed every one of them. She took a few more steps before realizing that she had finally arrived at the plateau of the cliffiside.
The man handed her items back to her. “Looks like this is where our paths separate.”
“Ya, I guess so. Thanks again for your help. I wouldn’t have made it all the way up here by myself.”
The two stood in silence for a beat before Sarada spoke up once again.
“Where have you been all this time? And what made you come back? If you don’t mind me asking.”
His eyes upturned in thought. “I’ve been on a journey, away from any of the villages. Away from most people, actually. As for why I came back…”
He trailed off, taking a step closer to her and smiling.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t expect to, but I’m glad I did.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you out while you’re here? Maybe I can give you a little tour of the village since it has changed so much. It’s the least I could do.”
The man’s face dropped slightly, a saddened expression gracing his eyes despite his continuous smile.
“No, I think I’m leaving again tonight. I just have one more place to visit.”
“But, you said you just got here,” Sarada protested. “There’s so much you haven’t seen.”
“I know, but I was never meant to be here long,” he said, turning his attention back toward the old city below.
Sarada thought for a moment.
“Well, can you at least give me your name? So maybe if you’re in the village again, I can show you around properly.”
The man let out a small laugh. “So formal. Nothing like your father at your age.”
Sarada’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “How do you know my dad?”
The moonlight illuminated the man’s profile, giving Sarada a better look at his familiar face. How could he have possibly known Sasuke? He had been gone for so long, away from any semblance of major civilization for over fifteen years.
Fifteen years? But, he doesn’t look a day over twenty.
The realization struck her suddenly, almost knocking the wind out of her. He had been lying about his story the entire time, but to what end? To what purpose? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her companion turning and taking a step back toward the stairs.
“Wait!” she called. “Please, who are you?”
He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder and outstretching a hand to beckon her toward him. She did so and when she was within his reach, he lifted his middle and pointer fingers and tapped her lightly on the forehead.
“That’s not important,” he said. “Take care of your father for me.”
He turned back around, leaving Sarada in stunned silence as she clutched her belongings in her arms.
He took one step down the stairs before adding, “Until next time, Sarada Uchiha.”
She watched as he descended the steep steps, going further and further until she could no longer see him anymore. She moved to the staircase’s edge to try and get another glimpse of him, but when she peered down she saw that he was gone.
“Hey! Sarada!” a voice called out.
She whipped around and was relieved to see Cho-Cho bounding up to her.
“What are you doing? We’ve been waiting for you for a while now. Boruto thought you were gonna ditch us, but I told him you’d show up.”
“Right, I’m sorry. I got caught up with something, that’s all,” Sarada said in a shaky voice.
Cho-Cho cocked her head, a concerned look spreading on her face.
“Are you feeling okay? You look really pale.”
Sarada smiled weakly, “I’m fine, Cho-Cho. Promise.”
As the two made their way toward the gathered group of friends, Sarada took one last look over her shoulder. She attempted to convince herself that what she had seen was a trick of the mind, a result of her tired eyes and an overactive imagination. She remembered a time when she convinced herself that a person had been perched in a dark corner of her room. But when she called for her mother to turn on the light, there was nothing there but a pile of clothes. Perhaps this was a similar situation, eyes and ears playing tricks in the dark. An absurd thought, but not as absurd as the reality that she faced if she believed that the man was truly there. If she accepted that, then she would have to accept that the dead could return. She would have to accept that ghosts could walk among the living again. That was because she knew exactly who the man was the second that his hand touched her forehead. It was the same gesture passed down to her father, a precious gift from someone who he held closest to his heart.
Itachi Uchiha
9:46 P.M.
Naruto gazed out at the pitch-black expanse of Konoha’s old city, his worry increasing by the minute. The power had been out for over two hours and while Shikamaru informed him that there was no foul play to be suspected, the idea of the entire city sitting in the dark put him on edge. He’d seen two large-scale attacks on the village before and he knew it would be naive to believe that a third was an impossibility. He watched as flashlights and lanterns flickered throughout the narrow streets, shining the paths of night owls making the most of the sudden change in atmosphere. Somewhere in the distance, children lit sparklers and traced letters and words in the sky. The scene rested his anxious mind for a brief moment. His job was a grueling one that often left his work unrewarded, but the sight of the peaceful night reminded him of the reason he decided to be Hokage in the first place. Glory and rest awaited him only after his work was finished.
“My, my! I knew being Hokage was a lot of work, but this is just excessive!”
The booming voice echoed throughout Naruto’s office, causing him to almost jump out of his chair. The part that startled him the most, however, was not that the voice was loud. It was familiar.
He stood up and quickly turned around to face the intruder, only to be met with a sight that almost knocked him back into the chair. A tall man with a mane of long, white hair and red face markings streaked under his eyes. He wore a grin so wide that Naruto thought his face might get stuck in the expression.
“P-Pervy Sage?” Naruto started. “Master Jiraiya?”
“Woah, now you’re scaring me. Since when did you get so formal?”
Naruto reached his hands up in an attempt to weave a hand sign but realized that the action would be impossible.
A genjutsu? But who, and how?
“This isn’t funny. Whoever is doing this, you won’t get away with it for long. I sent my advisor out earlier but he’ll be back any minute now,” Naruto said, his voice full of authority.
He hoped whoever heard him wouldn’t hear the anxiety laced within his words. The sight of Jiraiya stirred his heart and caused him to ache for his master's companionship. Long walks on country roads, training sessions with the toads of Mt. Myoboku, sharing lunch at a faraway village. All memories made a mockery of by the visage standing in his office.
The illusion sighed. “Do you remember when your jacket finally bit the dust?” He laughed. “I thought you might be buried in that old thing if you had a say in it. It took me three days of convincing to even get you through the doors of that shop to buy you a new outfit.”
Naruto narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about that?”
“Because I was there, kid,” the ghost responded.
Naruto felt his body untense slightly, an automatic reaction that he knew he couldn’t trust. So what if this Jiraiya knew about that shopping trip? It was possible for genjutsu users to retrieve memories from their target’s minds and use them for manipulation. Anything Naruto knew, the attacker knew also.
“So, do you expect me to believe that you’re really him? Because you know about a shopping trip?”
“I don’t expect you to believe anything.” The doppelganger shrugged and chuckled dryly. “To be honest, my reasons for coming here are entirely selfish. I mean, I’ve been dead for years. How could I think just showing up was a good idea?”
He approached Naruto’s large desk and, when he was met with no resistance, he picked up one of the picture frames scattered along its edge. He studied it for a moment before placing it back where it sat. It was a framed photo of his family, Himawari with her mother and Boruto with his father. Naruto swore that he could see the other man’s eyes go misty with tears.
“I don’t know why I got a chance to see you again, Naruto. Maybe old fate thought that I could offer you some wise advice at just the right time, but I’ve got nothing. I put my pen down a long time ago and retirement has treated me so well I don’t think I’ll ever pick it up again.”
He looked up at Naruto, who continued to stand frigid in front of his chair.
“You’ve grown up into exactly who I thought you would be. I bet you’re the best damn Hokage this village has ever seen. No offense to Tsunade and your father, of course.”
“You’re wrong. I’m only in this position because of their greatness. I couldn’t have done it without any of them,” Naruto said.
“And one day, someone will say the same thing about you. The acts of the present exist for the hope of the future. Who knows, maybe your son or your daughter will be the next to sit in that chair. Wouldn’t that be a sight?”
Jiraiya turned back toward the door of the office, his large frame slumping into what Naruto discerned as disappointment. He took a few strides forward before glancing back over his shoulder.
“Well, I think I’ve droned on long enough. I wish I could’ve seen you under better circumstances, but I shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds me.”
He was about to open the door when Naruto interrupted him.
“Wait. If you really are Jiraiya, then I have a question for you.”
Jiraiya lifted his hand off the doorknob and turned to face him.
“Ask away,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“What about Nagato and the others? Are they…okay? Are they with you?”
Jiraya grinned. “Oh, they’re doing fantastic! Nagato made sure to fill me in on all that I missed. It was quite the reunion.”
He paused before adding, “Having everyone together again almost makes up for how much I miss you. But don’t go chasing me too early, alright?”
Naruto felt a deep sadness rise up in him as he realized his mistake. It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes and for the first time, he recognized the man standing at the door. There was no genjutsu, no edo tensei, no illusion to trick him into vulnerability. There was only a master and his student, reunited for the first time in almost two decades.
Naruto rushed around the desk, tears falling from his eyes as he rammed into Jiraiya with enough force to almost knock them both into the ground. He buried his face into his shirt and wrapped his arms around his large frame. Jiraiya smiled softly and placed his hand on Naruto’s back to comfort him.
“Come on now, where’s that stoicism you just had? No use crying over a loser like me,” Jiraiya said.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there, on that mission,” Naruto said through sobs. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough.”
Jiraiya cocked his head. “Not strong enough? You achieved something that no one before you could. You achieved peace. All of the Great Nations working together as one. That’s a greater gift to me than life itself.”
Naruto’s grip tightened on his master’s vest, to which Jiraiya patted his head in response.
“If you crush me any harder, you might just kill me again!” Jiraiya laughed.
After a few more moments, Naruto took a step back and released himself from his master’s embrace.
“I’ll make you proud, I swear.” His eyes moved toward the floor.
“You already have,” Jiraiya assured.
When Naruto returned his eyes back to the door, he realized he was once again alone in the dark room. He stood for a moment as he tried to comprehend the past few minutes before he was jerked back to reality by the sound of the door slamming open. Shikamaru raced into the room, panting from the journey back to the Hokage’s office. Despite the lack of light, Naruto could see that his eyes were red with tears.
“Naruto, something isn’t right. I don’t know what happened, but I believe we might be under attack. I saw…”
He trailed off, his eyes meeting Naruto’s for the first time since entering the room.
“I think it might be Edo Tensei. What are your orders?” Shikamaru said, attempting to keep his composure.
“Who did you see, Shikamaru?” Naruto asked calmly.
Shikamaru’s hands clenched nervously. “Asuma.”
Naruto nodded. “It’s not Edo Tensei, I know that for a fact.”
“Then what is going on?”
Naruto made his way back toward the large window of the office and watched as a small stream of light made its way up into the air atop the Great Stone Faces. It burst into a radiant ball of color and was quickly followed by several other similar displays.
“Fireworks?” Shikamaru asked, his brow furrowed in frustration. “Should I send someone up there to stop it?”
“No,” Naruto replied. “Let them have their fun. It’s been a long night, the village deserves it. Don’t you think?”
“Well yes, but what about what I saw?”
Naruto smiled. “What did you talk about?”
Shikamaru’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mirai and Kurinai, and the rest of the old Team 10. He wanted to know how we were doing.”
“Then keep it close to your heart. Tell the others if you want to, but I’m not sure they’d believe you,” Naruto said with a grin.
Shikamaru opened his mouth to protest, but words seemed to fail him. He nodded before turning and leaving the room. Naruto sat back in his chair as the fireworks above continued to illuminate the village. As he gazed up at the Great Stone Faces, he made out what looked to be a small figure with a flash of yellow hair joined by various others.
Of course it was you, Boruto.
A small smile crossed his face. He knew he would never quite understand how Jiraiya was able to visit him, but that didn’t bother him much. His master’s words only reminded him of what all his hard work had been for. It was not for admiration or even the chance to fulfill his dreams. It was so that his scatterbrained, unpredictable son could gather at the peak of the village with his friends and take advantage of the cool summer night.
9:40 P.M.
“Alright, I brought one of my dad’s lighters. Do you think that’ll work?” Shikadai asked as he flipped the silver lighter’s cap open, revealing a small, blue flame.
“It’ll work perfect,” Boruto replied.
He stepped back to admire his work. The boxes of fireworks were arranged in clusters, ranging from smallest to largest. Boruto figured it would be best to start off small and save the more impressive ones for the big finale.
“Come on and sit Boruto! Your big head is in the way,” Inojin yelled.
Boruto turned around and returned to his seat on a blanket next to Sarada. The night air was filled with the soft chatter of the gathered group of friends, all waiting with bated breath for the first firework to be lit.
“Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! Aren’t you glad you came?” Boruto asked as he stretched backward on the blanket.
“Ya, I’m happy to see everyone together. We’ve all been so busy on missions, I don’t think we’ve had a chance to do this since leaving the academy,” she replied, her voice distant.
Boruto turned to look at Sarada, a concerned expression on his face. He thought to hold his tongue but decided that his curiosity was worth the risk.
“Did you see something earlier, too? Like, someone you didn’t expect to ever meet? I know it's kinda a weird question but you just seem more down than usual.”
Sarada folded her arms close to her chest and met Boruto’s gaze.
“No, I don’t know what you're talking about.”
Boruto scoffed. “Stop lying, Sarada. I can see right through you. What did you see?”
She averted her eyes and turned her attention toward Shikadai and Iwabee as they struggled to light the first fuse.
“My uncle, Itachi. He died a long time ago,” she admitted.
“Really?” Boruto said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “So it wasn’t just me, huh?”
She shook her head. “Who did you see?”
“My grandparents. They were both really cool but I don’t know if I can trust what I saw, ya know?”
A large boom interrupted the conversation, causing the two to look up at the source of the noise. Multicolored streams of reds, blues, and yellows graced the starry night sky and Boruto could hear his friends gawking at the sight. He smiled as Shikadai lit the next bunch and sent more flaming streaks into the air.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter if it was actually real. Maybe, it only matters that we got to experience it. Meeting people that meant so much to our parents, I mean,” Sarada said.
When Boruto turned back toward her, he noticed the fireworks illuminating reflections in her glasses as she watched them. Her face relaxed for the first time all evening and Boruto felt grateful that her mind was finally at ease.
“Ya, you’re probably right.”
As the fireworks continued to cascade above the Great Stone Faces, all eyes turned toward them in curious awe. Boruto drank in the moment, quietly hoping that the blackout would never end. Hoping that the feeling of his grandparents’ arms around him would never be forgotten.