Only One Month

If you have something to look forward to, time goes by faster than you’d like it to. Their friends have four more days to get used to seeing him and Sarada act like a clumsy couple until Saturday comes around. Neither Shikadai or Chocho teased them throughout the week, more than aware that Boruto would chew them out for it on the spot – his nerves have been getting paper-thin, Shikadai’s words still running on his mind like they are preparing for a marathon.

Time is running away too fast for Boruto’s liking, the first week is already over and there are only three more left. He still hasn’t kissed Sarada. There have been moments though, moments in which he must have been confused because he could have sworn Sarada looked like she wanted him to kiss her. The problem is that if he misjudged her reaction, he would ruin his chances and she’d pull away from him. Getting Sarada angry at him and thinking he was only after her for physical affection by coercion scares him.

He is on thin ice after all.

Saturday morning comes with fog all over the town, but it’s not cold enough to stop Boruto from going on his early morning jog across the park. With Sarada taking up so much space up in his head, he needs something – anything – to help him organize his thoughts. The first soccer match of the season is quickly approaching and he does not intent to fall behind his teammates. As their striker he needs to be on top of his game when the time arrives, even if he’s not their top player for this position. If Inojin is injured at any point throughout the next months, he must be able to step up.

His legs are screaming as they carry him across the path beneath his feet and he makes the last meters in a sprint, beating his own personal record for the first time in months. So far, so good. A quick shower helps him feel ready for the rest of the day, to make sure he smells nicely when he goes out to meet Sarada before the movies.

He recalls she said she had liked the aftershave he had used during their first date, so he sprays some of it onto his neck. Hopefully she’ll like it during their second date, too.

Even if he and Sarada have grown up together, he still has a very vague idea of the things she likes in a potential partner. He knows her hobbies, the kind of tea and coffee she prefers, what kind of shampoo she uses – the Mango kind from The Body Shop – and her favored places for study sessions.

Those things aren’t difficult to figure out about anyone if you just spend enough time together, but they’ve never talked about girlfriends or boyfriends. While he has gone through girlfriend after girlfriend throughout high school and university until now, he cannot recall seeing her with a date at any time.

Like, sure she has had dates, he’s heard Chocho and her talk about them before, but he has never seen them. Back then he was grateful for it, now he wishes he would have seen her with those boys at least once.

In the end, Boruto decides to just wear a clean shirt and a pair of pants, it would suffice, hopefully. Sarada has never criticized him for his clothes either. After he is done getting ready for the day, he is about to sit down with his breakfast as his phone starts vibrating, a message from Shikadai just came through.

S.: Hey you getting ready for your date tonight?

B.: Yeah, got any tips? I’m more nervous than last time

S.: Is that even possible??

B.: You’re such a great friend, Shika, do you know that?

S.: Indeed I’m such a great friend I’ll mend your broken heart for you in three weeks. Don’t get your hopes up.

With a grunt, Boruto shoves the phone in his backpack and starts eating his meal. He still has a study session ahead of him before he will meet with Sarada.

Sarada decides to wear something more casual on today’s date, a pair of dark jeans and a mustard yellow knitted sweater paired with light-brown boots and her red coat on top again. Her hair is lose and falling over her shoulders as per usual. Boruto better not turn up wearing a suit or else she might want to run back inside to put on something fancier.

But no, when his car pulls up into her street, he’s wearing a dark grey sweater and even though she cannot see his pants from where she is standing, she would bet money on them being a pair of jeans.

Just like on their last date, he gets up and comes around the car to open the door for her, the way men used to do it in the past because they wanted to keep up chivalry. Sarada doesn’t think he has to do any of these kind of things, doesn’t have to pay her bill in the restaurant, pay for the movie tickets, doesn’t have to open the door for her, but there is a time and place for everything, she tells herself.

This can wait.

His smile is just as big as last time as she comes up to him and she returns it with ease. They meet at the car and for a second neither of them know how to continue. Kiss each other in greeting, say ‘hello’ or is better to not say anything at all?

She decides to go for a simple “hey!” at which he nods after a moment of confusion. The smile on his face isn’t gone yet, but he sits down on the driver’s seat once more and there is something else on his face, Sarada cannot recognize it.

She decides not to mention it, focusing on the time ahead of them.

“So, if we want to get to the movie by 8, then we have about three hours of free time to kill before that,” she begins to explain.

“’Kill time’”, Boruto answers her, “You make it sound so terrible to spend time with me, like you can’t wait to get away.” He turns his head towards her and Sarada feels embarrassed.

“No, it’s quite nice to spend time with you. I am curious though what you have planned to do before the film.”

“Ah, yes, well, I thought we’d get something to eat. We had Italian food last time so I figured maybe we could have something American? Burgers and fries in a diner. Does that sound agreeable to you?”, he asks her, now with that same old twinkle in his eyes.

“Sounds more than agreeable to me,” Sarada replies, “and not just the food.”

His head jerks around like he just heard a gunshot and his cheeks go redder and redder until Sarada feels the need to say something.

“Don’t stare at me like this. I do enjoy spending time with you, believe it or not.” Boruto hears her, of course, but keeps sending her incredulous looks whenever he must think she doesn’t notice.

For the sake of keeping her head as clear as possible with Boruto in the car, she pretends not to notice.

The movie turns out to be less scary than what Boruto has anticipated – he’s never read the novel – but he still enjoys it nonetheless. How can he not? Their food at the diner was more than just delicious and when he had offered Sarada his hand again at the cinema, she had taken it without seemingly hesitating at all.

All throughout the movie, he does not let go and neither does she so when they stand up to leave, Boruto can just pull her along with him. As close together as he can allow himself to pull her to him at any rate, because after that short, fleeting moment in the car Sarada hasn’t said anything concerning him again.

He wishes she would say more, to tell him again how much she enjoys spending time with him, even if their relationship will only last four weeks. Shikadai has been right, Boruto muses, he’s taken Sarada’s every word towards him and build his hopes up with them like they are red bricks.

It’s almost embarrassing to him how much he wants her to feel for him at least a tiny bit the way he feels for her, but then again he has spent a big chunk of his life living with this thought inside his head.

Now is not the time to wallow in self-pity.

“Did you like it?”

“Huh?” Boruto stutters, turns to look at her. He looks around and sees they’re already standing next to his car again. He’s been spending the entire time thinking about himself while he could have talked to her.

“The movie?” She tilts her head as if unsure of his reaction, but he shakes his head and laughs.

“I think they did a great job on Pennywise. I don’t want to see another clown for at least 2 years.”

She laughs again and her eyes turn into the crescent moon shape which he enjoys seeing on her so much. She seems younger with her cheeks flushed, eyes twinkling with laughter and joy. He enjoys making her laugh like this.

With one small step he closes the distance between them and presses his lips against her cheek once more – this is only the second time he has had the courage to push his luck so far. And the effect this has on himself is better than even the last time. His heartbeat speeds up, he closes his eyes and lets the warmth spread through his chest before he pulls back to look at her, to see if he stepped over any boundaries tonight.

However, she doesn’t let him go far before she presses up against him, her hands on his chest, fingers in the collar of his jacket, and pulls him down to kiss her again, a proper kiss this time. Boruto is surprised, but doesn’t miss a second to kiss her back, their lips pushing against each other before she opens her mouth and captures his upper lip in between hers.

Without thinking about it, he lets out a groan, deep in his throat, filled with desire to kiss her more. One hand around her waist, the other cradling her face with his fingers, she brushes her tongue against his, melting both of them together. When they turn their heads over, it’s his turn to explore her mouth, bringing them back together again and again until she occupies every last corner of his mind.

Sarada steps back, pulling him with her until their lips part and they stare at each other, both pairs of eyes hazy with desire, their lips a puffy red.

He doesn’t want to stop kissing her like this, but there are better places to make out than a parking lot. Neither of them is able to say anything as they get into his car, but he doesn’t feel the need to, his mind is still blank.

Boruto has often thought about kissing Sarada, both intentionally and unconsciously. He remembers an instant during high school, she had been chewing on the end of her pin and all Boruto had been able to stare at had been her lips around the pencil.

Nothing in this world could have prepared him for the real experience, though.

He starts the engine of the car and swerves outside of their parking spot to line up into the traffic down the street, when suddenly something tugs at his sleeve. It’s Sarada, asking him silently to link their hands together.

He doesn’t have to think twice to give his hand to her and he strokes over the back of her hand with his thumb as they make their way home.

After Boruto drops her off at her house, she closes the door behind her with shaky fingers and the key falls down once, then again a second time. The lock finally clicks in place and she can let out a shaky breath.

She did not plan to kiss him tonight, and yet. And yet it had happened. Does she regret it? Not one bit. One kiss and she had been hooked, heart racing and blood boiling with ecstasy. Not in a hundred years would she have thought kissing Boruto could ever have this kind of effect on her, but he does.

When he leaned in for the kiss on her cheek, warmth had coated her entire body, spreading from where his lips had brushed against her skin and suddenly her only desire had been to kiss him. He didn’t disappoint her one bit.

Now, standing in her quiet apartment with no lights on, his warmth left her faster than she wanted to, like he took it with him. One look at her phone tells her she has three unread messages by Chocho.

Chocho, 6:43 pm: omg girl tell me when you’re back home

Chocho, 8:13 pm: please don’t make we wait, I want all the tea

Chocho, 10:07 pm: I demand answers alright

Sarada wants to laugh, but the tingling of her lips makes it surprisingly hard to. Her fingers fly over the phone and she holds it up against her ear. It takes less than three rings before Chocho answers her.

“Oh my God, you are back!” Judging by the sound in the background, Chocho just sat down on something, a chair maybe or her bed.

“Yes, I’m back,” Sarada whispers, her fingers brushing against her lips, testing if the tingling is real or only in her head.

“How was it?” Chocho asks with barely hidden curiosity in her voice.

“It was good. It went well I mean. We had something to eat and then watched the movie. Nothing weird happened or anything.”

Chocho sighs. “I don’t want to know about the weird details, but the juicy ones. Did you guys play kindergarten again and only held hands or did you finally kiss each other?”

When Sarada doesn’t answer her immediately, Chocho starts yelling. “You did make out, didn’t you? Oh my god, that is huge, that is major–“

“No it’s not. It’s not ‘major’,” Sarada bites back, harsher than she has wanted to. The moment Chocho started gushing about her and Boruto, Sarada to panicked. So far she had not time to think about what just happened to herself at all, she isn’t ready in any way to talk to someone else about it.

Admitting to the truth right here, right now isn’t just hard, it’s impossible. Denial may be bleak, but it’s easy. And right now, she can only handle ‘easy’. Exposing herself the way she did to Boruto left her feeling raw and vulnerable and she does not want to share this with anyone else at the moment.

“Oh,” Chocho just says with a small voice, “okay. I just thought, you know…”

“There is nothing to talk about to be honest. The date was still nice, but the kiss wasn’t a big thing. Just a kiss, you know?” Even with pure silence Chocho can tell Sarada how much she doesn’t believe her for one second.

“I am tired, though. How about we talk tomorrow again, okay?” Sarada offers her, fingers still on her own lips.

“Oh, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night!”

Sarada just hangs up. Her lips tingle for hours to come.

The cafeteria is too full for her liking when she enters during her break the next Monday, beginning of the second week. She hasn’t heard from Boruto all throughout Sunday, which surprised her, but maybe he was busy. Even if Boruto tries to take life not too seriously, he cannot avoid all responsibilities forever. He, too, has homework to do and essays to write.

Her phone vibrates and to her surprise it’s him.

Boruto, 1:17 pm: We need to talk. Meet me at the entrance of the park during lunch.

After not hearing from him for a day, this kind of request surprises her and she goes over everything that could have happened so he would make such a serious request via phone. He’s not the type for it unless the situation requires it.

Since most students spend their break in the dining hall, barely anyone stands in her way as she spots a blond head near a tree.

“Hey!” Sarada exclaims with a smile, not without caution. “Your message sounded serious, is everything alright?”

He looks at her and there is little of that warmth left that she saw on their Saturday date. Instead he looks angry, hurt even.

“Am I alright?” When she doesn’t answer him in confusion, he continues. His voice is harder than his eyes. “I am not alright. You know, I come home from our date on Saturday, right? I  enjoyed myself, I thought you did too, but apparently I was wrong.

“I come home and I call Shikadai to chat with him. After I tell him how well everything went, how happy I felt, he tells me something funny.”

Oh, no, Sarada thinks. She knows why Boruto is angry now.

“He told me that apparently you think our kiss meant very little and that it was ‘just a kiss’. Weird, because I didn’t get that impression from you at all. So I just would like to know to whom you lied?”

“Lied? I d-didn’t lie to anyone…”

“Was it true then?” The look on Boruto’s face of pure hurt and disappointment is worse than anything she could have imagined. She’s never seen this Boruto before. Sarada swallows but her mouth remains dry. She feels small, forced into the headlights, panic hits her like a cold wave out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean­ –“ he takes a step towards her “ – did you really believe that when we kissed, that it was nothing? That it meant nothing to you? You didn’t feel anything at all?”

“It wasn’t ‘nothing’ –“ “But it wasn’t anything special either to you, was it?”

“You did ask me to let you kiss me during these four weeks, didn’t you,” Sarada reminds him.

“So that’s what it was? You just upheld our deal? Better get it over with sooner than later?”

Boruto’s hurt is worse than his anger, but both make it incredibly difficult for her to say anything. She whispers his name, once, and he winces. She cannot bring herself to say anything further.

When he realizes she isn’t going to tell him what he wants to hear and what she knows is the truth, he takes a step back, out of her reach and turns around.

Is he crying? she thinks. Please don’t cry. She remains silent.

“We’ll talk later then. Bye for now.”

The ‘fuck you’ goes unsaid.