On the rocky cliffs near the Land of Fire's border, atop a giant ridge stone, Boruto appeared with the two powerful shinobi he had barely managed to save.
This was where one of his shadow clones had arrived earlier. Naruto had brought Boruto to this relatively safe cliffside before pursuing the white-robed man, wanting both to keep him safe and prevent him from getting involved.
Boruto left a Flying Thunder God mark—and the clone dispersed.
Naruto was still unconscious. Sasuke's condition was far worse: a pierced heart, six through-and-through wounds, shattered bones, ruptured organs, and blood vessels torn in multiple places.
Most people would have died instantly. Anyone else alive at this point would bleed out within minutes.
Even the Palm Healing Technique could barely touch such wounds. Other than Tsunade, there were almost no shinobi in the world capable of healing trauma on this scale.
...
At Konoha Hospital, Naruto slowly regained consciousness. His blank gaze rested on the white ceiling lights as the quiet click of the door reached his ears.
He turned his head numbly.
Hinata entered with Himawari, Nurse Shizune following behind.
"Dad! You're awake!" Himawari ran straight to his bedside, excitement bright in her voice.
"Mm… yeah. It's all over now," Naruto said with a faint smile.
Hinata approached with a fruit basket, her gentle gaze softening as she met Naruto's eyes. Husband and wife exchanged a silent smile. Hinata didn't ask anything—she simply sat down and began peeling fruit.
Himawari chatted for a long time. It was rare for her to enjoy such quiet, uninterrupted time with her father. Her soft, affectionate voice melted away Naruto's tension.
After adjusting Naruto's IV, Shizune stepped out—and met Boruto coming down the hall.
"My dad… is he okay?" Boruto asked.
"He's just exhausted. Rest is all he needs," Shizune replied.
Boruto nodded. "What about Uncle Sasuke? The other ward?"
"He's past the danger phase. Lady Tsunade is still treating him. With Sakura helping, he should stabilize soon."
"I see." Boruto nodded again, then walked inside.
Shizune paused, watching his steady steps.
Was this really the same mischievous boy everyone talked about?
Inside, Hinata finished peeling the apple, cut it into neat pieces, placed toothpicks in them, and set the plate beside Naruto.
When Boruto entered, Naruto's expression shifted slightly, becoming more serious. Noticing this, Hinata took Himawari's hand quietly.
"Let Dad rest. We'll visit again later," Hinata said softly.
"Okay!" Himawari chirped.
The moment they left, Boruto picked up the plate, took a piece with a toothpick, and fed it to Naruto—then took one for himself.
Apple juice filled the quiet ward with the sound of soft chewing. It was the perfect opening for father and son to speak.
"How's Sasuke?" Naruto asked.
"He's stable, but the injuries are bad. He won't recover anytime soon." Boruto answered while munching on another piece.
"That was… Hinata peeled that for me," Naruto muttered, mildly annoyed.
"You're not injured—just chakra exhaustion. Resting here is better than slogging through paperwork."
"Ahh… well, that's still part of my job," Naruto scratched his head. "Even though you saved me this time."
"I marked the village before Grandpa left the Flying Thunder God to me," Boruto said lightly.
Naruto stared at him for a moment, then exhaled, loosening his shoulders.
"Haha… I wasn't blaming you. We survived thanks to you."
Boruto shrugged it off. "This is huge news. Shouldn't we tell the other villages? With that guy's strength… he could wipe out any shinobi village alone."
"The Five Kage Summit will convene soon," Naruto replied, looking uneasy. "A lot has happened lately. Be careful in the village. Maybe… take a break from school?"
"No thanks."
Boruto didn't love class—but taking leave would put him under Naruto's supervision, which would lock down his movements completely.
Naruto forced a smile. "Heh… that's not really a problem."
Boruto understood. In the last battle, he disrupted the white-robed man's plan. There was a chance the man would come for him or infiltrate to kill him alone.
"From what he said… he didn't kill Sarada. He wants to use her as leverage," Boruto said.
"I was too careless," Naruto muttered, rubbing his forehead.
"So I should be safe for now. He'll target you first."
Naruto fell silent, then nodded. "…Alright. Just be careful. If anything happens—use Flying Thunder God and run."
"Yeah."
Boruto finished the last apple piece, stood up, and left.
...
Far away, the white-robed man's Mangekyō finally dimmed and faded. Even in low-consumption mode, keeping it active for so long puts immense strain on the eyes.
As the scarlet tomoe vanished, the world shifted back to normal. At his feet lay a red-clad girl—Sarada—completely unharmed.
Blood streaked from the corner of her eye. Long exposure to Mangekyō illusions had pushed her mind and body past their limits, and she'd collapsed.
A soft glow from the Palm Healing Technique washed over her, soothing her body into a peaceful sleep—even though moments ago she had been drowning in terror.
Yet the white-robed man still looked dissatisfied.
Only one of her eyes had awakened to Mangekyō. The other, hindered by her frail physical condition, had stopped halfway—barely reaching an advanced Sharingan.
Time passed.
Slowly, Sarada stirred. Moonlight shimmered across her sweat-dampened hair.
"My head… is spinning… Am I dead?" she whispered weakly.
Her eyes opened, focusing on the moon with unease. Her nearsightedness was gone—this was the first time she had seen the world clearly since losing her glasses.
"So you're awake. Get up. We're leaving," the white-robed man said impatiently.
Sarada flinched violently. She scrambled to her feet, only to freeze when she met his gaze. His Mangekyō was gone, revealing pale pupils tinted with a faint sky-blue sheen.
She staggered back in fear. The man who had thrown her from the sky… who had tortured her mind… who had shown her Sasuke's death again and again…
The illusion had replicated everything—the fall, the impact, the agony—over and over until she broke. Only when she awakened her Mangekyō did she finally see through it.
All of it—every drop of pain—
had been fabricated by the white-robed man.
(Drunken Life.)
Sarada looked down at her body. No wounds. No blood. No pain.
Only warmth, comfort.
"Move. You'll be accompanying me for a while," the man ordered coldly.
Sarada had countless questions—but under his pressure, she could only obey. He walked ahead without looking back.
"Um… what is our mission…?" she asked in a trembling voice.
"Seven-Tails—Chōmei."
His tone was flat.
"Capture operation."
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