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A Night in His Mind

Summary:

Just because he appears happy on the outside doesn't mean he's ok. (Borusara)

Notes:

Wasn't written in the moment like Suffocation was but still halfway decent I guess. Sorry for all the angst oneshots ^^;

Work Text:

Boruto choked down dinner and began dragging himself up the stairs. It was as if the single flight before him was a small mountain, each step more treacherous than the last. The only thing that kept him from collapsing to his knees was the thought that his little sister would find him lying there and think something was terribly wrong with him. 

There was, but he couldn't explain it. No one would understand. On the outside, he was fine, but on the inside... He was a mess. 

So, he took one laborious step after another, stiffening his back to make it appear as though he was walking normally, swallowing back the tears that rimmed his eyelids. Left. Right. Left. Right. Come on hamstrings. Work with me. Don't you dare let that teardrop fall. 

When he finally reached the top, his little sister stared up at him from the foyer. "Onii-chan, is something wrong? You seem tired."

"I'm exhausted," he said, managing a smile. "I think I'm gonna go to bed early." 

His heavy hand fell on the doorhandle and barely managed to twist it, using the weight of his body to click it shut behind him. Sobs worked their way up his throat almost immediately. He shook his head and swallowed, stopping himself before he could become a puddle of misery on the floor. 

I need to at least make it back to the bed. 

He forced himself to stand one last time and fell face first onto his mattress, dragging his unwilling legs forward. His fingers hooked in the edge of the blankets, tugging them over his head, entrapping him in the privacy of darkness to let his emotions leak out of him like a punctured water balloon. 

Tears dripped into the sheets as thoughts swirled violently like a tornado through his mind. Too fast to elaborate on. Each one spreading a painful numbing sensation through his body. 

He wished he could yell, scream, or claw his insides out. Anything to be rid of the terrible sensation that squished his heart under its hefty weight. 

He held his right hand in his left, thumb nail scraping at that stupid black mark on his skin. 

Go away... Go away go away go away!

Ever since he had gotten the stupid karma, he knew something was wrong. His usual cheerful personality had been able to triumph over the feeling of wrongness for a time. But ever since he hurt Sasuke... Something else took over. 

Someone else's desires, their thoughts, their emotions. Every once and a while, he would feel them, like a pinprick to the back of his mind. They were vile and disgusting. And now that he was aware of the true nature of what he had become, he saw himself as a monster that deserved death. 

He tucked his head further into his knees, body quivering. He could see nothing. Hear nothing. Nothing other than the voices that told him he was worse than trash.

Everyone was determined not to kill him, but he wished they would. He should be locked up in a cage whenever Sasuke and Kawaki weren't around, not roaming free in his house. 

As long as you live, you'll continue to destroy everything around you, just like you did that day.

Shut up, he told the voices, bringing his hands to the sides of his head. Be quiet. He needed mental strength if he was going to fight the battle against the monster inside of him. But the voices only got louder and louder.

You stabbed his eye. 

You can never protect her. 

Boruto's fingers dug into his scalp, curling around his ears. "Shut up," he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed. The slight rustle of his blanket as he shook was the only thing keeping him semi-sane. 

Mitsuki will die using sage mode again to stop you.

You could obliterate the village with one massive rasengan, and when you wake up, you'd be the only one left. 

"No... Please," he whimpered under the covers, entire body tense, "make it stop..."

Next came the images. 

Sarada's faded onyx eyes staring back at him, her chakra deleted, blood dribbling out of her mouth as she lay crushed under rubble. 

Mitsuki glowing with a horn on his head, panting, forced down on one knee, finally losing consciousness and passing out. 

Himawari silently whimpering as she stared wide eyed at the lifeless body of their mother and father whom he had killed. 

You will come to lose everything... Your despair will be so great that you lose your will to live...  And when you do, I will take over and live Uzumaki Boruto's life for you. 

"No..." He rolled onto his stomach, knees tucking up underneath of him, trying to fight the urge to cough as his fingers curled around his bangs and tugged. The blood pulsed through his head with his rapidly beating heart. "Please..." He formed the words with his mouth silently, lips pulling back tight against his teeth against his will. "Stop... Someone... Anyone..."

Knock knock.

Two taps on his door and the tension in his body turned to panic. Half of him wanted to run to whoever was standing there and throw himself into their arms. The other half was swallowing down the horror that someone would find him crying.

He blinked and then fiercely wiped at his face, willing the trembling to go away as he stayed tucked under the blanket. Forcing his voice to sound groggy instead of pained, he finally replied, "What is it?"

"I accidentally took one of your kunai during training earlier. I just came to bring it back."

Sarada. His fingers dug into his pillow and squeezed tight, blinking away his remaining tears. A fantasy flashed through his mind. Him getting up. Going to the door. Pulling her inside and softly closing the door behind her, only to wrap his arms around her and cry into her shoulder. Sarada would let him cry without question. She'd understand.

But he couldn't allow himself to get anywhere near her. Not when Momoshiki's thoughts were coming through his head this clearly. Not when he was on the verge of losing it. "You can leave it outside the door. I'll come get it in a little bit."

"...Are you ok?" She spoke softly, her voice laced with the usual concern that she only showed when she knew he wasn't. 

"Yeah," he said, words quavering as they exited his tight throat. "I'm fine."

"...Can I come in?"

More mental images flooded his mind. Her arms wrapping around him, holding him back as he relaxed against her. Her hand gently playing with his hair and telling him everything was going to be alright.

But he couldn't have any of those things.

"Sorry... I'm kinda tired."

There was a brief silence, the sound of her clothes rubbing against each other as she shuffled. "...Is it Momoshiki?"

Curse her and her ability to read his emotions through a door. She wasn't going to go away until she found out. Not today. So he might as well satisfy her with an answer. "...Yeah."

"I'm just going to put this kunai on your desk," she said, opening the door a crack. "And then I'll leave."

His lip quivered. "...Okay."

She walked into his room, her footsteps light as a feather. He prayed she wouldn't ask, and squeezed his eyes shut. But he couldn't deny that he wanted her comfort more than anything. 

With great hesitancy, he lifted his index finger and made an opening the size of a pinhole through which to peer at her face. It was stoic, betraying nothing other than her intent to simply place the kunai down. She didn't even look in his direction. And that was how it should have been.

But without his consent, her name tumbled out of his mouth. "Sarada..."

The light thump of metal being placed against wood filled the silent room. "Hm?"

"...Never mind." He receded further under the covers, destroying the crack of light he had created. Shivers wracked his body. He cursed himself again for not being able to control his sorrow. 

The soft patter of her footsteps drew closer. He held his breath to stop a sob from escaping his throat. 

She knelt next to his bed. Her hand slipped under the covers inches away from his. 

It simply rested there, nothing more, nothing less. No words were spoken. 

He lifted his index finger. And then he pulled his clenched fist back into his chest. 

Don't touch her. You'll destroy her. Stay where you are. 

No.

You touch her, and you'll only despair more when you lose her. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his arm forward from the elbow. But just before their fingers could brush, he stopped. His arm tensed, shaking like an earthquake.

You don't deserve her. Let her go. She came to return that kunai. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Heaving a silent sob, he overpowered the voice in his head and reached forward out of pure desperation, touching the tips of his index finger to hers. The shaking took over his entire body, instilling him with the momentary fear of what he had just done and making him wish he could take it back. 

But she wouldn't let him. 

She reached out and grasped his hand firmly, as if she was imbuing her own metal fortitude that was stronger than steel walls into his own brain. She provided stability he needed, grounding him in the moment. And finally, when the initial terror had faded... The trembling left him. 

A blanket of exhaustion swept over him. The final few tears left in his eyes dripped onto his cotton sheets as he relished in the warmth of her hand, breathing slow, deliberate deep breaths. 

He flexed his fingers, and they shifted to intertwine with hers. He could feel her desire to protect him through the way she negated the space between their palms. 

"Why did you say my name?" Her voice was practically a whisper, soft and angelic in comparison to her usual snarky rude tone. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his face contorting as he curled his body closer to her hand.

"Boruto... You don't have to be sorry..."

"But," he whispered, staring through the darkness. "It's all my fault. We should be taking missions... Gaining experience. But I... I destroyed Sasuke-san's rinnegan... Dad doesn't have Kurama anymore... I..."

"So does that mean that I should just get rid of you? Is that what you're trying to say," she said, her tone of voice somewhat pained despite its softness. 

But he was serious. "Yes."

"Boruto..." She gently pulled her hand away from his hand to lift the covers off of his face. "You saved my life. I'm grateful."

He couldn't look into her eyes. The waterworks were coming back. "But your dad..."

"I already told you. Me and mama prepare for the worst every time he leaves the house. He returned alive. That's more than enough."

"But I--"

Her hand slid wordlessly into his hair. She gently massaged circles against his scalp, the same way his mother used to do to put him to sleep when he was small. "It's ok... We'll figure this out."

His eyelids struggled to stay open under her touch. All of the pain seemed to leave his chest with that one simple repetitive motion, the tension deflating from his body. He wanted to apologize a million times over, but the craving for affection and understanding was too strong. With one last look at her softened gaze, his eyes drifted closed, a single tear dripping off the bridge of his nose.

She continued to play with tufts of his hair until he was breathing peacefully, the aguish all but gone from his face.

"Boruto?"

"Hmm..." He hummed. 

"Try to actually sleep tonight..."

"Mmm..." 

With that, the Sarada before him faded into the illusion that it was, and the real Sarada gently closed the door, deactivating the chakra around her eyes. 

.  .  .

When Boruto awoke the next morning, the kunai was resting on the floor outside of his room, and he wondered if he had dreamt the entire thing. But the tint of blush on Sarada's face when they met up at Thunder Burger as a team and the way she shied away when their hands accidentally brushed told him otherwise.