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eleanor-devil · 3 years

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Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.18 - The Ruined Birthday

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05

The day was supposed to be a happy one... but... of course due to recent circumstances it was everything but a happy day... and even less when the person for whom this day was supposed to be special... simply refused to celebrate.

"I don't want a birthday party, I don't want to celebrate anything, I DON'T care if it's my friggin' birthday! Just leave me alone!" yelled Boruto as he stomped away from his family.

That's right, it was the Hokage's eldest child's thirteenth birthday, but Boruto didn't want to celebrate anything at all... not when his best friend was in the fragile condition he was.

The blond shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and kicked a small rock that went stumbling away, crashing a few times against the floor before coming to a stop. "How can they even ask me to celebrate anything..." he mumbled as he continued walking. But then his eyes softened a little... deep down he knew that his family wasn't trying to be mean or anything like that... they had just thought that perhaps a party would have cheered him up...

But he also knew that no party, no celebration would make this better... What would it mean if one of the most important persons in his life was not going to be there...?

He hunched a little, walking aimlessly, just following his steps wherever they take him. They had no training, so he spent most of his free time - and he had lots of it right now - either worrying out of his mind about his friend or trying to find a way to get him to... Well he didn't tell this latter to anyone, because he didn't want anyone to jump on him and say it would be no use, that it was all up to Mitsuki right now...

He felt a pang in his heart. How was he doing right now...? He didn’t realize that he found his way to the training grounds, almost instinctively. His steps slowed down a little when he saw that he wasn’t exactly alone… but she was probably the only person who knew exactly what he was going through right now. It was a sign of just how occupied the girl’s mind was that she didn’t even notice his approach.

“Hey…” he mumbled as he sat down next to her, making her jump slightly.

“Oh…” was the soft exclaim Sarada gave. “Hi…” she mumbled in response, and the two were once again claimed by silence.

“I… actually had something prepared for today…” the girl said quietly after a while. “But…”

“You know exactly how I feel about it.” Boruto said with a fleeting, humorless smile.

“Yeah…”

“This sucks.” Boruto stated, picking up a small rock from the ground and tossing it around, listening to it clank around. Following it blankly with his gaze for a moment, the blond then picked another one and threw it, then another… Sarada slowly laid her head on his shoulder, which gained no response from the Uzumaki as he simply fell into the routine.

Hearing multiple sets of footsteps then, and also their name being called, they couldn’t help but look back. It was their friends of course, and it had been Metal who spoke. "Umm... happy birt-”

Boruto raised a hand to stop him. "Please, just... don't..."

Metal looked surprised for a moment but a look at his friend's eyes and he understood why he didn't want to be congratulated on his special day. He heard Inojin sigh and looked to see the Yamanaka shaking his head, it looked like a disapproving shake but Boruto didn't seem to have noticed it... or if he had, he was being quite good at hiding it.

"Hey, everyone," another voice joined them.

The group turned around to see Sumire and Iwabe approaching them. This time, before he could even get a word out, Boruto cut in. "Guys, I... appreciate, but I'm not gonna celebrate this day. I can't. So please... Don't wish me..." He couldn't even get that word out. How could this day be happy? "I just... gotta go now... See you around when today is over."

And with that he just left, again all alone...

“Sarada…” Chocho tried to say, but the girl flinched as if she had brandished a whip at her.

“I… I’m sorry, I can’t…” and with that she also left, it was clear to all of them that she was trying to hold it together.

Metal sighed. "This can't go on like this…”

“I know,” Inojin agreed, rubbing his neck. “And it’s not only them, this whole situation affects Shikadai too."

“There has to be something we can do,” said Iwabe.

Sumire thought about it for a moment. “Okay, why don’t you all go and see Shikadai and we will check on Sarada with Chocho?”

"Check on her...?" the Akimichi asked, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "I really think she needs to be left alone..."

“We can’t do that though, can we?” Sumire’s tone was gentle, she was no stranger to Chocho’s social awkwardness, but also determined to see this through. "She needs us right now, even though she doesn’t realize it fully."

The dark skinned girl crumpled the bag of chips in her hand. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

With a new found resolution, the friends parted ways, each group going their different way.

...

It had become a daily routine by now to hide in the shadow of the doors and watch his son carefully from afar.

The big change in Shikadai’s behavior had become a constant source of worry for Shikamaru in the past few days, but if he was to be specific, after the second meeting. He had been quiet in observing the interaction between his son and the Sarutobi heir, because he knew Shikadai had to steam off a little, which had been hard for even some of them, so he wasn’t about to blame his son for it. On the contrary, he had been quite proud of him to call Ichiro out on the harassments.

But this quietness had gone on for way too long. And it wasn’t just that. Shikadai had dropped off everything… he had almost literally dropped out of the face of earth for all there is to it, the older Nara suspected he wouldn’t even eat anything if it wasn’t for Temari and Karura. It was very often that he caught his son staring at the letter, the one Mitsuki gave him before he left Naruto’s office.

He, of course, didn’t know the contents of the letter, but whatever was in it had hurt Shikadai in a way more than what he had witnessed in the hospital, he could tell that.

And he had dropped Shogi altogether.

Which was making Shikamaru’s job even harder to understand his son. Sure, they had their normal talks like any father and son, but especially when Shikadai was as troubled as this, it was easier for the older man to read him like clear water in the game they both enjoyed so much.

It was close to physical pain to see his boy suffering like this. And he was willing to change that now, whatever it took.

Sighing inaudibly, Shikamaru moved a step away from his hiding place and approached the young boy. “Oi, Shikadai… what about a quick game of Shogi, eh?” Of course, their games were never quick per se, but he was willing to get beaten quickly for just a glimpse into his mind.

“Oyaji…” Shikadai mumbled, suddenly looking awkward for some reason. He brought his hand up to rub his neck, not meeting his father’s eyes. “I… thanks for the offer but I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Come on, it will be just one game,” Shikamaru insisted. “You usually don’t turn me down.”

“Yeah, I know but…” The young boy sighed then. “Yeah, okay… just one game.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by the older Nara that his son grabbed the pocket of his pants for a second, where he knew the letter was, but Shikadai otherwise remained silent as they sat at the table and began putting their pieces on the board.

The game started as usual, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm soon enough. It was about six moves into it that Shikamaru realized that his son was really not into it today.

“Checkmate.” he said as he put his winning piece on the board. There was a note of uncertainty in his voice, as though he couldn’t believe this just happened.

Which was the case. The only game he remembered that lasted as short as this one was when he taught his boy for the first time how to play the game.

Shikadai’s look of disbelief was a mirror of his own as he stared at the board. “I… don’t…” he gulped. “One more…?”

The older Nara just nodded and they put the pieces on once again. A chink in his invisible armor had just broken, his true emotions leaking out of it, and Shikamaru was willing to push forth.

It took longer this time… About eleven moves into the game, but surely, the young boy was beaten again. This time, Shikamaru was shaken out of his initial shock, and was able to pay closer attention. Still, he remained silent to allow Shikadai to figure out his mistake on his own, out of respect to the intelligence he was well aware his son possessed.

But to the contrary, Shikadai looked even more aggravated at the second defeat, and his movements were becoming more erratic. It took seven moves in the third round.

And they were back to six in the fourth re-match, with his son, always the poster child of calmness, practically fuming now.

Shikamaru closed his eyes, feeling the need to intervene at last. “Shikadai…” he said, leaning in closer to indicate a piece. “Why don’t you move this pawn instead?”

“No.” was the boy’s immediate - and firm - reply, which took the man off guard. Was his son offended that he showed him a move? Honestly, this was something they never did to one another.

“You will push my king to the edge - now it’s in a bind.” He tried once again, gentler.

“Only after you capture the pawn.” There it was again, the stubborn, defiant note. “I’m not going to sacrifice a pawn.”

“Where did this come from?” Shikamaru was now completely baffled. “This had never been a problem before.” The whole point of this game’s strategy was, after all, capturing the king, even when some pieces are lost.

His son’s brows were slightly furrowed, mostly out of frustration he could tell, as he continued to avoid his gaze. “Why is it that it’s always the pawns that are sacrificed…?”

Shikamaru sighed again, it was clear that the problem ran deeper than the game. “Shikadai… tell me what’s on your mind.”

And still there were no answers… but the Nara was patient, he had no problems in matching his son’s pace if it could ease the mind of the boy. Finally, almost hesitantly, the boy rummaged in his pocket and put the contents on the table. He recognized the handwriting on the letter, the one he had delivered to his son days ago. On it was a piece of Shogi, a pawn to be exact.

“Today is Boruto’s birthday.” Shikadai said, his eyes on the letter.

Of course Shikamaru was aware of that, more often than not until last year he was the one who kept Naruto on track on this kind of normalities, especially when the Hokage was too lost in the village business. He didn’t say anything, though, just allowing his son to speak his mind.

“He… he was preparing a big party for them, and I even helped for it…” A small huff of a smile, although one without humor behind it as Shikadai tapped the letter. “And for what? He left the village and left me a letter with a piece of pawn in it.” He took the pawn in his hand, looking at it as if transfixed. “Make it count… He should’ve been here to see his plan through… But…” after another long look at it, he pretty much threw the piece on the board. “Instead he went and willingly sacrificed himself like a pawn.”

So this was what it was all about… his son continued in the pause he made to formulate his reply.

“Is this what all pawns are about then? All there is to being a ninja? We play our role in the game and make sacrifices for our own?” Now he was looking at the board like it was the cause of all his problems. “And we still go and celebrate life like it still holds a meaning… Oyaji… does it?”

This was when Shikamaru had realized that they had never thoroughly touched upon this subject, not the two of them at least. Out of the household, Karura was her brother’s closest confidant. But he and Shikadai seemed to connect on a different level, and he needed to provide his son the comfort he needed.

But he was also aware that he had to do it in a way that would acknowledge his son’s brilliance, so as to encourage Shikadai in his own way, to make him come to his own conclusions.

So instead of an immediate reply, he picked the pieces they were playing with once again. “One more?”

Shikadai barely suppressed a sigh, a little crestfallen. “I don’t know if it’s worth getting beaten over and over. The strategy just won’t work.”

“No, see,” said Shikamaru, holding up a finger to stop him. “This time we’re going to play it by your rules.”

“There is only one set of rules, though.”

“Not if we go unorthodox.” He was all set. “Alright then… you make the first move.”

The young boy just kept gazing at the board. “You didn’t put the pawns.”

“Exactly.” He was watching his son’s every move carefully, looking for patterns he could identify. “You don’t want to sacrifice a pawn, right? Then we don’t use them at all.”

“We can’t do that, can we? You need all twenty pieces to play.”

A small smile - he was playing right to where he needed him to be. “Humor me.”

Shikadai let his breath out in a huff, he was indeed trying to form a strategy with the eleven pieces that suddenly seemed… almost lonely on the board. But whichever he picked came short more or less two moves later.

“This won’t do!” he finally exclaimed, openly frustrated now. “The best option - if any - is to make the first move with the rook, but you can’t foresee even one move from your opponent without the backup of the… the…” he came to a halt as finally the realization hit, and he understood that this had been his father’s plan.

“Without the pawn.” Shikamaru concluded for him softly, putting one of the said pieces in place, right where it would make a difference by blocking the opponent’s move. When his son said nothing to it, the look in his eyes turned pensive. “You see, Shikadai, as hard as it is to accept… the truth remains that you stand strong wherever you have something that is very important to you, something you are determined to protect at all costs.” He had put three more pawns on the board now, and the boy’s sharp mind could see the almost infallible strategy behind it. “So yes, while it’s our duty to protect our own as a ninja, some of us walk into the fire willingly.” He put the last piece as he drew back slightly, looking at him expectantly.

Almost infallible. But his mind had been working on a counter-strategy the moment he saw the third pawn on the board. “It still doesn’t make me feel better.” he murmured as he leaned forward to put one of his own pawns.

“I know… it didn’t help me back then either.” Shikamaru made another move, pleased to see that they were getting somewhere. The young boy raised his head with a confused look. “Back when my sensei Asuma didn’t think twice about putting his life on the line to protect the king… even when it meant him never meeting his daughter… so yeah. It was hard for me to understand that kind of devotion.”

“What changed then?” the boy wondered as he put another piece. Shikamaru thought about it for a second.

“Nothing, really… just that I understood and made peace with what mattered the most for him.” Another move. “Tell me… do you know who the king stands for?”

Shikadai took a long look at the key piece, turning the question in his mind. Practicality almost made him answer with ‘The Hokage’, but he knew better than that. The answer couldn’t be that obvious, there had to be more to it. He made another move as he weighed the options in his mind.

He still wasn’t satisfied with it, but he went with the next best option. “The people of Konoha? Our village?”

The older Nara’s smile turned knowing, his son was really like him in so many ways, not just physically… “Think about it this way.” The boy was playing almost instinctively, but he really had him cornered now. “You are a jounin leading your troop in a war. What would be the first thing you need to target from your enemy?”

“It’s… their artillery, I suppose?” He could’ve said their headquarters or the top ninja, but that would hit only too close home.

“What about the immaterial things? What could you destroy from an enemy that would have a lasting impact?”

This was a harder question. Shikadai took his time in answering, just allowing the sounds of the moving pieces on board to guide the direction of his thoughts, as if it was a river in which he was slowly floating instead of a jumbled mess.

Then he thought about his friends… not just his teammates but also his childhood friends and those from the academy… and the words just came through.

“Their hope… ideals… everything they want to build I think? Because they wouldn’t even stand up if they don’t believe in a…” He trailed off as their game came to an end.

Shikamaru was now positively beaming at him. “Checkmate. Congratulations.”

“Future…” the boy completed his sentence in a whisper, gazing at the conclusion in wonder.

“That’s what we all fight for. Don’t ever forget that.” Picking up his king, the man handed it to his son before closing his hand over his. “Besides, pawns aren’t just sacrifices. If you stay strong, give them the chance, a pawn can always become a general.”

Shikadai’s fingers tightened a little around the piece too and finally, finally a smile showed through his features, small as it was. It was all Shikamaru could ask for.

Just then they heard someone clearing her throat and turned around to see Karura looking at them with a slightly relieved, slightly amused expression.

“I hate to interrupt, but Inojin and the others are here.” she informed them. “And they said they won’t take no for an answer.”

“There is no need. I was about to go find them myself.” It was refreshing, way more than he wanted to admit, to be back to his own self. Just before he sprinted to the gates, the boy turned to look at his father once again, his gratitude showing crystal clear in his eyes. “Oyaji… thank you.”

Shikamaru didn’t answer, just raised his hand in acknowledgement.

...

Boruto had just wandered into a kid's playground and he had no idea of how he came there, but it wasn't like it really mattered. It wasn't like he cared at all. He walked over to the swings, sitting on one of them and just staying there, not even moving a little to swing.

How simple... how untouched would things have been if they were just small kids?

"Boruto..." he heard someone calling but even when the voice sounded different, he didn't look up, lacking the energy to even give a reply.

"Boruto..." the second voice came. "We know you're down because of what happened but... we're your friends too, and we want to help." There was a moment of hesitation. "Please don't push us away..." He recognized that voice as Metal's.

But he still didn't look up.

"Tch... you are just being ridiculous"

Boruto's hands tightened a little more on the swing's ropes, but he still didn't say anything, still didn't look up.

That person wasn't about to give up though. "You act like you're crying over a girlfriend who dumped you. Get a hold on, already."

"Iwabe!" Inojin exclaimed unbelievably, turning to look at his friend.

Boruto finally looked up, directly in Iwabe's eyes, fire burning in his own. "Shut the hell up."

“It’s not that easy.” Shikadai said with a sigh, rubbing his neck. “Look Boruto… I know what you’re going through…”

“You know nothing.” was Boruto’s automatic reply without thinking. This made the Nara furrow his brows a little.

“Don’t I? I was there too, remember?”

In turn, this made the blond come to a halt. Yeah, truthfully… he had completely forgotten Shikadai had witnessed what he and Sarada did too, maybe even the worst of it. Now he was feeling a little guilty. “I…”

“I know it’s hard, it’s been for me too. But… life has to move on, if for nothing, we should make sure of that because that’s what Mitsuki wanted for all of us. Do you really think he would want us to be depressed over him forever?”

Boruto closed his eyes for a moment, as he felt himself shaking a little. "What do I know what he wants...? He is not here to tell me..." He didn't care about what Shikadai just said, how was he supposed to know how life would move on? Before he knew it, his bitter side was taking over, and although he knew deep down that his friends were only worried for him, it was unfortunately directed to them. "You don't have to hang around if you feel depressed... doesn't look like it will pass away."

This time it wasn’t Shikadai who was talking, Inojin did while frowning. "Do you think we're going to leave when you need us most? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?"

Boruto didn't say anything to it but he felt Metal walking up and kneeling down in front of him.

"We don't have to celebrate anything if you don't want to but... if it makes you feel better, we can all go visit him. We're here for you, Boruto... like Inojin said, we are your friends too and if you need someone, we're here..."

"You don't know how it was like..." the blond mumbled, staring at the ground. "To have him dying in my arms... Life leaving his eyes as he bled out... His..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling hard. "When his heart stopped... I can't keep these images out of my head... I don't know what to do if he doesn't..." He couldn't finish his sentence.

And he didn't need to finish... because Metal pulled him in a hug that slowly gathered the other boys too.

"It will be okay, he will be okay. He is strong and we all know it..."

Boruto just broke down right there and then. Sobbing his heart out as the images of his friend dying flashed in his head. He tried, he really did, tried to replace those images with the happiest ones he could ever remember.

He wasn't even sure how long they stood there, but realized just the presence of his friends easing up his pain little by little. It was still there, he knew it wouldn't go away completely no matter what, not until Mitsuki wakes up, but it was becoming manageable, and eventually the sobs calmed down, leaving the boy only trembling a little.

“Well,” Shikadai said as they finally broke apart, with a bit of a smile. “I have something to show you. Sarada will meet us on the way there.”

The others slowly got up. "Well... we have to go anyway."

"No." Boruto said clearly, and a little firmly. "Guys... I'm sorry, you can come too. We would like that. Lead the way Shikadai."

With that, the group left the playground. Indeed, they were joined by Sarada and the other girls not too long after. Boruto noticed that his teammate’s eyes were red, as if she was crying too, but the two didn’t say anything to each other as they moved forth to the mysterious location.

Soon they found themselves in the depths of Konoha's forest. Boruto knew where this would lead to but he wondered what exactly his childhood friend wanted to show him there.

As they slowly made their way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the huge waterfall... The scene that met their eyes made Boruto come to a staggering halt, his eyes widening slightly.

"Wh... Wha..." he tried to say, but words were failing him.

The scene in front of him reminded him of a film he watched and talked to his friends about some time ago, he didn't remember when... A make-shift boat stood to the edge of the cliff, with what he was sure "Team Konohamaru" written on its prow, some of the words missing... A black cloth was attached to the ledge which stood in the middle of the boat, with a white skull figure on it - although the skull looked anything but intimidating, there was actually a smile on it, if anything, it looked a little creepy. Various other decorations and accessories laid scattered around, as if they were booty that they had gathered...

Shikadai went and picked up something. "This was our surprise... Or his, actually he planned the whole thing, I just helped." He turned to him, holding a multi-colored wooden parrot in her hands. "Happy birthday," he said, giving him a small smile.

Boruto continued gaping, speechless, as he carefully took the wooden parrot in his hands, he took it with such care as if it would break right there and then.

He couldn't believe Mitsuki had done this...how had he even managed to keep it in secret all this time? That boy sure was a box of surprises...

The blond felt his throat starting to burn, he opened his mouth but no words came out, just a simple gasp...

"That..." he finally managed to say. "...that guy..." he was clearly emotional with the situation.

“So… that day when he didn’t want me to walk with him after the training…” Sarada’s breath was hitching a little as she brought her hand over her eyes, shaking her head a little. “Was this all it was about…?”

“Yeah… it was.” Shikadai’s smile was small but soft, remembering just how excited his friend was planning all of this. “You guys’ birthdays being so close, he had to keep it from you too. That’s where I came into the picture.”

"Guys... it's alright, let it go if you need it..." Inojin said carefully. They had been just looking around unbelievably, not knowing what to say.

"So almost everyone... knew..." Boruto whispered between his heavy breath, he tried to keep the tears from falling but it didn't work... they just came back and started falling from his eyes...

All the others remained in silence while watching the two friends cry...

"And above all...he chose this place..."

"I don’t know the importance of this place, he never told me.” The Nara was looking carefully at his friend. “Just that it held a special meaning.”

“It did?” Sarada was just as curious as the rest.

He didn't want to talk about it. About their promise... they had both sworn... and he remembered Mitsuki's words from only a few days ago... '

I can't give you a promise I can't keep...'

[Flashback]

"Jump!" Boruto lost his balance when he reached the edge of the cliff, flailed his arms wildly for a bit, then both him and Mitsuki tumbled down.

It was exhilarating!

He couldn't help but scream in excitement as they fell down some meters below into the river. The chilling water cut his breath on impact and for a while, stars danced in front of his eyes. Then he kicked up and burst through the surface, laughing joyously.

"Haha, that was priceless, don't you agree?"

There were no replies.

Confused more than concerned, Boruto looked around. Where was Mitsuki? They had both jumped in... didn't they?

Fear hit him at the possibility, and he immediately looked up... He could see no one at the top of the cliff... Not even the thug was there, which made the blond frown - what was going on?!

"Mitsu-!" just then, a hand was clamped on his mouth, and he struggled to get free of it.

"Not now." came his friend's voice from behind him and Boruto felt himself immediately relaxing. "He could be around here, we should stay low."

And so they retreated back to hide behind a rock, eyes keen and watching everywhere as they listened on to the sounds...

It took a while... and the voice was dimmed due to the roar of the waterfall, but finally they heard something.

"Boruto? Mitsuki! Come out wherever you are now!"

"That's sensei..." the blond said, looking at his friend in relief. They both came out of their hiding spot, looking upwards.

Hands on her knees and bending a little forward to see clearly, Sarada pointed. "There they are, sensei!"

Konohamaru breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that his students were safe. "Come up here quickly!" he called towards the duo again, then looked at the man he had just caught and bound. "We have a package to deliver and we can't lose time!"

"Yeah yeah, we will be up there in a minute!"

Hearing the lazy and carefree tone in Boruto's voice, the jounin felt his temper rising slightly. "There is no time to dawdle! Get moving - now!"

Mitsuki looked at his friend. "I believe it would be wise to do as we are told."

"Yeah, they can wait a little." Boruto said, still carefree. "First I want to make sure of something."

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow at this - leave it to Boruto to get on the nerves of their sensei. "What is it? I'm positive that Konohamaru sensei took care of that thug."

"Nah, it's not about that."

But the blond made no further explanation as they waddled their way ashore, which made the blue-haired preteen even more curious. "Boruto..."

Then his friend finally turned to him. "Oka- whoa...!" before losing his balance and tumbling on the ground.

Mitsuki laughed for a little, which earned him a scowl from Boruto, but in a moment it was replaced by a smirk and the blond reached up to pull his friend down as well. In the next minute, they were both laughing their heads off.

"Okay. This calls for a promise." the Uzumaki said all of a sudden, catching Mitsuki by surprise.

"What promise are you talking about?"

"Simple. Promise me that, just like today, we will always be by each other's side, no matter what, always there to help each other." Boruto raised his fist. "And I promise the same to you."

Mitsuki looked at him for a second before raising his fist and bumping it against Boruto's. "I promise."

[End of Flashback] (1)

As Boruto reopened his eyes, determination shone in them. "I made up my mind," he whispered softly.

"Huh?" asked Sarada, confused.

"I want to celebrate my birthday after all." the blond said a little more clearly, finally letting his gaze drift away from the blanket of white on the ground.

This sudden change in his resolve was certainly unexpected, but it managed to bring a smile to his friends' faces. "Well, that's great," Metal said, they were all relieved that Boruto was able to snap out of it. "So if you still want we can-"

"Guys, um... I'm sorry..." the blond said sheepishly, bringing his hand to his neck. "Can we... do that later...? I... kinda have to make up for someone else first."

"Oh... uh, sure..." Inojin said with a bright smile, one which made Boruto feel a little ashamed because of the way he treated them earlier. "We'll arrange that later." Then, one by one, all of his friends came forward to hug him. "Happy birthday, Boruto."

"Thanks, you guys," he said, finally managing a small smile. He and Sarada watched until their friends were out of sight. Then the blond took the Uchiha's hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Not saying anything else to her, he took out his cellphone. "Hello, mom? Mom, I'm really sorry about the way I behaved... I-I want to celebrate my birthday..." Boruto smiled as he, undoubtedly, heard Hinata's happy tone. "Can all of you meet us in the hospital...?"

...

The snow was spiraling down in a white haze out of the building, piling up on the already thick blanket on the ground. The building itself was alight, the windows glowing in the darkness.

One of the rooms had a very lively party going on inside, as lively as the hospital rules allowed of course. The room contained the youngest patient in the hospital currently, a thirteen-year-old hero.

The hustle and bustle that was going on was a courtesy of his best friend, Uzumaki Boruto, who had insisted that if he was going to have any kind of celebration for his birthday... it was gonna have to include his best friend.

Boruto smiled brightly as those who gathered in the room finished the birthday song, and then he leaned forward to blow the candles out. He was wearing a pirate hat that his friends had bought, and (because they couldn't make it sit on his shoulder) the wooden parrot was standing on the table beside him.

Claps echoed around the room; the entirety of the Uzumaki and Uchiha families were inside the room, plus Konohamaru. They were all practically cramped in the room, and although they had received some stink eyes, seeing the circumstances, they were allowed in; with the pretense that the visit should be short. Which Sakura felt the need to remind them of after they finished their share of the cake.

"I'm sorry, but this is as far as I can let you be in here." she said, with an understanding smile directed to the birthday boy, Sarada and Himawari.

Himawari pouted and let out a long 'aww' before Sarada walked over to her and put her hands on her shoulder to lead her out. The adults followed not too long after, after wishing Boruto the best for his new year.

When everyone left, the blond eyed Sakura a little nervously. "Aunt Sakura... can I please stay a little more?"

The look in the pink haired woman's eyes only softened more. "Of course, dear, but no more than five minutes."

He just nodded and watched until Sakura was out before turning his head back at his friend once again...

[Flashback]

"Oww!"

Boruto flinched a little as Mitsuki gave a short yelp of pain following a thud. He... wasn't exactly adjusted to darkness as he would like to think, plus not knowing Mitsuki's house good enough... didn't help with things much. Which was something his blue-haired friend pointed out soon enough.

"I still don't understand why I have to be led into my own house blindfolded, Boruto..."

"You'll see in a minute," the blond said, barely being able to hold back a chuckle. He didn't want to give anything away. He wanted everything to be great... he wanted his best friend to feel he was welcomed...

And in his mind? This was the best opportunity.

"At least don't make me bump into another thing, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," the blond said cheerily. "Hey, wait over here for a moment, will you? I'll be right back..."

"Boruto..." there was a warning tone in the younger boy's voice.

"Don't open your eyes until I say so!" Boruto called before carefully finding his way to the couch and hiding behind it... coming face to face with his little sister.

"Can't believe you almost blew our cover!" Himawari whispered indignantly.

"Look who's talking! Keep your voice down, will you!"

"Boruto!" Mitsuki's voice came, impatient. "Can we get over with this already?"

"Well?" Sarada asked from the other corner. "Any reason to keep waiting?"

"Is there anyone else here?" this time, Mitsuki sounded confused.

Well... he couldn't see any point in hiding anymore. The blond gave a small nod, and Himawari darted towards the kitchen to notify their mothers, who had been taking care of the cake.

They then heard Mitsuki sigh. "This is getting ridiculous..."

Boruto felt more than saw what his friend was about to do - and it was too early for it! So when he saw the trio coming out of the kitchen already - he rushed forward to stop them... just when Sarada noticed something and plopped out of her hiding spot to alert them...

And that was how Mitsuki found them when he turned on the lights. Himawari, Hinata and Sakura coming out of the kitchen, Hinata holding a huge cake with lit candles on it, Boruto practically on his tiptoes as he was trying to approach them discreetly and Sarada, frozen in the middle of waving her arms towards their direction, half-seen behind the armchair... all of them comically stopped in their tracks.

To break through the awkwardness of the situation, Himawari bent down to snatch a handful of confetti they had previously thrown around for decoration and just threw them over. "Happy birthday, Mitsu-nii!"

The blue-haired boy was so baffled that for a moment, he could do nothing but look around at the decorations with widened golden eyes. "W... what is..."

Following his sister's lead, Boruto snapped out of his stance and came over to his friend's side, putting an arm on his shoulder as he grinned widely. "Don't tell me you forgot it! Happy birthday, Mitsuki!"

The boy was still at a loss for words. "I..."

"Sorry it's not that much," the blond continued almost sheepishly, but he couldn't keep the glee out of his voice anyway. "I wanted to do something more detailed since it's your first birthday here, it should be special, and man, twelve is an important age..."

Hinata gave a soft chuckle at her overly-enthusiastic son. "Boruto, just give him a breath of fresh air..."

"...and we would've arranged something more if you told us about this previously, I mean, who says it's his birthday just the day before it?! It's a crime, I'm telling you..."

"Boruto." Mitsuki finally managed to cut in, and his voice sounded strangely tight. "It's... it's okay, I really like it...

" "Aw, well," the blond said, oblivious to his friend getting emotional. "Tell me about that again when you see what I have in stock for next year..."

"That is a long stretch of time..." Sarada pointed out, sweat-dropping.

"Come on... at least let him blow out the candles before they go out, okay...?"

[End of Flashback]

Boruto sighed. "You do realize you raised the stakes too high, right? How am I even gonna compete with this on your next birthday? There should be a middle ground before you reach the peak, y'know?"

Obviously, there were no answers. But the blond didn't seem to be disheartened by it... his smile didn't falter.

"It's alright... Even if you can't reply to me, I know you can still hear. So listen closely," he said crisply, straightening himself a little. "When you come back, I want a full-fledged birthday party." The look in his eyes softened. "And I know you will come back... because the Mitsuki I know never gives up, and always keeps his promises." He bumped his fist against his friend's, just like how they did back then.

Better not strain Aunt Sakura's tolerance.

Just when he was about to walk out... an idea came to his mind. He brought a hand to his necklace and looked back at his friend, then determination filled his eyes. He took the necklace out and walked over to the bedside table on which he had left the wooden parrot.

"Uncle Neji..." he whispered as he put the necklace on it, his hand staying over it for a minute. "If you can hear me, please help my friend find his way back to us..."

He then turned and walked towards the door, and turned back to look at Mitsuki again. "It can't be his time just yet..."

...

The change in the blond was immediately noticed when he returned to his family's side. "Onii-chan, where is your necklace?" Himawari asked curiously.

In turn, Boruto gave her a big smile. "It's alright, Hima... I just lent it to someone who needs it more."

#boruto:sacrifices #naruto #boruto #mitsuki #naruto fanfiction #boruto fanfiction

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slowlymadeart · 5 years

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[Image 1 Description: A Crowd of people, all colored blue, with the label "Interneters" on them. To the left of the crowd a young man stands out. He is a repeat character. We'll call him "The Interneter." He has dark brown skin, short light blue dread-locks. He wears a burgundy colored hoodie, a dark teal V-neck shirt, and dark bluish-grey jeans. The Interneter says "You never told us what a "Spoonie" is."

To the middle right is Rachel, we can only see to the bottom of her shirt for now. (She has pale white skin, short and messy blonde hair, teal shirt with ferns printed on each side, Maroon shorts, light cyan thigh-high stocking with cut outs of leaves on them, maroon shoes). Rachel, smiling wearily, looking right at us, holding her index finger up:"Well, you could just google it. But hey, what the heck? Why pass up an opportunity to be the first person who tells you what it means?"

We see Rachel again on the lower left side, smiling while raising an eyebrow, holding her left hand to her face, and her right hand out towards us: "Ya ready?"

The crowd lines the bottom of the image. The Interneter stands in the middle, with a speech bubble above "Yes." and a speech bubble to his bottom right, "That's why we asked."]

[Image 2 Description: There is a lavender square at the top of this image, on it is the text: "Spoonie" comes from a disability metaphor first described in a 2003 essay by christine miserandino called "The Spoon Theory" in which she tells the story of trying to explain to a friend what it feels like to have lupus, using spoons as visual representation of her daily energy. She actually handed her friend a bouquet of spoons and said: "

Below Christine, a white woman with long brunette hair, a white headband, purple dress shirt and jeans, holds out a sparkling bouquet of spoons saying "Here you go".

Below this we see her down on one knee. To her right her friend, female, brown skin, long braided dark brunette hair with a reddish tint, blue over-all dress, and teal leggings, sits on a stool holding the spoons Christine handed her.

"You have Lupus." Christine says, to which her friend nervously responds "Haha, whaaat?...... Please explain."]

[Image 3 Description: Another lander square fills the top of this image, on it is a quote from Christine's Essay, "Most people start the day with unlimited amounts of possibilities- energy to do whatever they desire...for the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions...I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have something else being in control."

Below Christine sits alone, her legs "criss-cross". She is smiling at us and holds a giant spoon. Around her are little blurbs in purple text, "Might actually own a giant spoon" "Has done awesome advocacy work" "Read more at butyoudontlooksick.com (if you want to)"]

[Image 4 Description: a chart titled "How Spoon Theory Works". A single spoon equals a unit of energy that a person can use safely. On the left is "spoon cost per activities" on the right is icons to show the activities.

1 spoon; Getting out of bed, taking medications, changing clothes. 2 spoons; Watching a tv show, a microwavable meal, using the internet.3 spoons; Enagaing in a small activity like art, cleaning something, making a meal that required stove or oven.4 spoons; Taking a shower, leaving your home, socializing.

Narration text: Why use it? I'll let this quote by a doctor who was originally using buckets of water (???) with patients explain. "Using analogies and/or metaphors...can help clinicians and patients' loved ones get a better understanding of the impact of specific activities on a patient." (John Hopkins Neurologist Scott Newsome, DO, on the topic of "Spoon Theory")]

[Image 5 Description: The Interneter is looking worried, sweating. He says to Rachel,

"Oh wait, so I have major depression disorder, insomnia, and ADHD. During my last episode, I was barely able to make it to one class a day, and maybe get one meal. My insomnia felt uncontrollable. I ran out of mental brain power for my classes, but I still attempted as much class work as I could, even if my brain couldn't fully show up. Don't get me wrong- I still tried, so hard. Even if I was too depressed to feel things like 'normal' I still wanted to be embracing my college life. I feel like spoon theory would have really helped me in times like those. Especially since I haven't found an antidepressant that works on me yet. I know it's not like what you go through, like chronic physical illness. I wouldn't want to make less of your experience or appropriate this term. I'm just wondering if-"

Rachel, looking calm, finding The Interneter endearing and smiling slightly, "Your experiences are just as valid and the level of impact your depression has absolutely qualifies you as a spoonie."]

[Image 6 Description: Narration text "Today a spoonie is someone with a condition that causes limited amounts of physical and/or cognitive energy, such as chronic illness, mental illness, or disability. It's also used by neurodivergents who deal with persistent energy limitations."

Below sits 4 girls all smiling, waving, and looking at us, left to right; The first girl has an average frame, tan skin, long navy blue hair, a maroon hat, faded pink pants, a blue/purple/lavender striped shirt, and cutting scar on her arms. Second girl is Kitt, she was in another comic, she has a plus sized frame, dark brown skin, shoulder length curly/dark brown hair. she wears a teal dress with white strips, a waist long blue jacket, blue shoes, her left left is a purple prosthetic. Third girl, she is Asian, very light but still tan skin, with black hair in cut in a pixie style. She has on a white sweat shirt that has lavender sleeves and a salmon color at the bottom, in the center is the rainbow infinity sign for neurodivergence. She has on mint pants and wear white and salmon colored sneakers. On the floor below them sits Rachel.

Narrative text "Not all of us are literally measuring out energy in terms of spoons, but having such a metaphor is extremely helpful."]

[Image 7 Description: Narrative text "Spoon Theory embraces acknowledgment of a condition's control, which is weirdly liberating because this reminds a person:"

Girl number 3 is on the right is whispering to The Interneter "Lack of control isn't proof of personal weakness. You don't have to beat yourself up for experiencing your condition."

"I know that. . ." the interneter says shyly, blushing and smiling.

"Do you though?" Rachel says from the left.

Below her is girl number one. "Do u? I've been doing this for 13 years and even I forget sometimes."]

[Image 8 Description: Narrative text "For young people in particular, spoonie is the first word a person may use when starting to rewrite what their life with their condition could look like."

The Interneter lays flat on his bed, we see him from the side looking hopeful "Having to live life this way isn't easy, but I want to make it work."

Below we see he is centered on his bed holding 1 spoon, "especially since I'm still having that episode of depression." On the right side his words continue "I didn't say anything because I was afraid of messing up the flow of the comic."]

[Image 9 Description: Narrative text "Spoons can be a silly thing to associate with possibly not having enough energy to manage basic survival activities, which is one reason some don't bother using the term at all. Still, it's easier to say,"

A woman, standing in the center of the image with a long purple dress, short brunette hair, and a purple walking cane, holds a hand to her chest smiling "I'm a spoonie!"

To her left is a large man all in red, hand on his hips smiling, "My own experiences of feeling tired helps me empathize with you. You make me feel validated."

To her right is a little girl colored pink "Spoons are good!"

Next to her is a woman in maroon "Such a cute and positive take!"

At the bottom of the image narrative text says "Rather than bring folk's moods down with-"]

[Image 10 description: "My body is disabled! Living an existence with a condition that is unpredictable and invisible sometimes breaks my brain! Please don't shut me out until I'm "Fixed". Just respect my limits." Rachel says, now in the center of the people instead of the purple-dressed spoonie. She sits in her wheelchair with legs up, holding her arms out, her expression is crying yet smiling.

The large man to her left has his arms folded, now very uneasy "How do I tell apart your "disability" from excuses, self pity, and faking stuff? And who sits in a wheelchair like that?"

On the right the little pink girl is crying, her maroon mother bending down to hold her. "Isn't "Disabled" bad?" the girl ask.

Her mother responding "Nothing we need to worry about, sweetie. There are plenty of programs that think of the disabled so we don't have to."

Narrative text, "Yes. Spoonie can at times feel detached just enough from harsh reality to ease people's discomforts."]

[Image 11 Description: Narrative text:” Perhaps detached enough for misguided normies to think,”

A young woman standing in the center with one hand on her hip and one raised with her index finger pointed upwards says "Hey! I feel like I have limited energy to! I like this "spoons" idea. It will help me be mindful and proactive with my energy! I'm a spoonie now!"

She is white woman with tanned skin, long bleach blonde hair in a pony-tail, wearing grey yoga pants and a green tang top. On her tang top are the words "Has no condition is just human".

To her left Girl number 3, Kitt, and Rachel are huddled looking at the woman. “Don't-” says girl number 3. "Oh no, wait-" says Kitt. "You're not one now, but hey, you'll be one of us eventually. No need to rush." says Rachel.

On the left is a young hipster male all in orange "You're just a product of obsessive online health trends." He calls out.

Narrative text "Let's hope it doesn't turn into the 'snuggie' of disability lingo.]

[Image 12 description: Narrative Text: "Now, being disabled by a condition, especially it's fatigue aspect, doesn't mix well with the 'hyper-productive' narrative that today's society puts out."

A Pinkish-maroon leg with the words 'society that doesn't fully realize the systemic harm of it's ableism' on it, kicks a stick figure of the Interneter high up into the air in a Team Rocket fashion.

"Looks like having problems with my human body is causing me to be considered less of a human agaaiinn!!!" The interneter says, surrounded by anime sparkles.

Narrative Text "Still, being active, productive, and accepted by some form of community, lay the foundations for self-confidence and a sense of worth. Contributing online is one way even the most debilitated amount us have managed a version of that foundation."]

[Image 13 Description: Narrative text: "Disabled communities are sources of support, love, guidance, and empowerment built upon collaboration, inclusion, and knowledge. They help bring together people with a willingness to listen, because they all know the value in feeling heard."

Two horizontal rows of a diverse group of people with disabilities, drawn to show them all in bed, all interacting with each other like the would if the were together in person. Below each person is an awareness ribbon to indicate the condition(s)they have.

From left to right, top row; A young woman with very dark brown skin, black hair in a bun, is looking concerned and reaching for a young man in the row below her. He is black with slightly lighter skin, very short hair, a 5 o'clock shadow, wearing glasses. He is reach towards her with is left arm, his right arm is curled due to his medical condition. Next in the top row, a Young woman with curly brown hair, tan skin, glasses, and cutting parts on her arms is smiling and being handed a book by a young white male with Downs-Syndrome, he hair short light brown hair and glasses. A young woman with tan skin, glasses, wearing a hijab, has a pink prosthetic arm holding a piece of paper, and is using her other arm to hold hands with the person she is smiling/talking with- a thin non-binary with short blue pixie hair and braces on her elbows and right arm. This person is also holding a piece of paper, eyes shut from laughing, with happy tears coming from their eyes.

Bottom row; Next to the young man with dark skin, is a plus-sized woman with white skin, her hair is deep violet in a pixie cut. She is holding a yellow ribbon, looking concerned and speaking a "?" as she taps the should of the girl next to her. This girl is Asian with black hair in a short ponytail, she looks back at the woman with the ribbon, her arms are on the back of the next woman, whom she is comforting. This woman has medium dark skin, half her head is shaved, the other is short navy blue dreadlocks. She is curled up and crying, below her is a yellow ribbon next to a purple one. The young man on her left has his left arm around her, and has a sympathetic expression, talking with the woman to try and provide comforting. He has tan skin and short curly brown hair, with short curly brown facial hair.

Narrative text: "Spoonies are just one part of this collective, their efforts displaying that a condition's control isn't proof of weakness, as if can exist even along side massive amounts of inner strength."]

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