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The moon was rather round that night, emitting a glow that illuminated the tree branch Sarada was currently settled on.
She’d come home to find a folded note sitting on her desk directing her to a rather inconspicuous area near the outskirts of the village. The handwriting was messy as if the writer had decided to scribble it down at the very last minute. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the sender, but that worried Sarada even more. The note wasn’t framed in an urgent manner, but she’d witnessed enough of Boruto’s self-sacrificing tendencies to stop expecting him to ask for help directly.
So she arrived as early as she could, keeping herself hidden within the shadows, and he appeared a minute later wrapped in all black. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him— only because it was still surprising how much he resembled her father with his long, billowing cape and muted presence. It seemed like only yesterday he was the reckless, boisterous teammate she’d both mocked and admired.
He smiled at the sight of her, his tense shoulders relaxing. “Sarada, you came.”
She straightened, lips pursed. He didn’t look to be in distress, but one could never be too sure. “Of course. Did something happen? Is there an emergency?”
Boruto blinked slowly, looking away. “No… Not exactly. I just wanted to see you.”
Sarada was suddenly very grateful for their limited vision in the dark. “You—?”
“I mean— I have something to give you,” he said sheepishly.
Sarada’s breath hitched as he gently lifted her hand, bringing it towards him. His calloused fingers absentmindedly caressed her knuckles, sending shivers down her spine. Her entire body tensed as if she were coaxing a baby bird— one wrong move would scare it away, would break the illusion that something more could happen. The moon’s shine painted him in a bluish tint so reminiscent of his eyes, and she couldn’t seem to look away.
“Sarada…” Boruto trailed off, his voice wavering with hesitance. Sarada caught sight of his free hand fidgeting with something between his fingers, but it was too dark to make out. He sucked in a breath before continuing, “I want you to have this.”
Quietly, he slid something cold and solid through her ring finger and Sarada gasped. The small gem glittered like a thousand stars beneath the moonlight.
“It’s a promise ring,” Boruto said hastily. “My promise to you, I mean. When I said I would be your right hand man and protect you.”
Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to jump out altogether. She prayed her palms weren’t growing sweaty in his grasp. Did this idiot understand what a promise ring was for?
“I trust you to keep your promise,” Sarada muttered, trying to keep the disappointment from bleeding into her tone. “There’s no need…”
“I know. This is just so you don’t worry.” She heard the smile in his voice without even needing to look.
Despite the flurry of emotions raging within her, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the ring. Partly because she didn’t think she could look at him without bursting into flames (or worse, bursting into tears), but mostly because she was stunned. The ring seemed costly even if it was hard to tell just how valuable the gem was in the dark, and he’d somehow managed to get ahold of the size of her finger because it was a perfect fit.
Even if his definition of a promise ring was slightly skewed, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of appreciation at how genuine the gesture was. She’d spent so many restless nights wondering about his whereabouts, praying he was safe with her father while the rest of the village called for his head on a stake. Back then, she’d wondered if he ever thought about her, if he also fell asleep wishing she was by his side if only to confirm she was safe. She supposed this was confirmation enough.
“I made from my own chakra,” Boruto added upon seeing her intently study the accessory. He then hesitated, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m… really sorry about what happened to Sasuke. Please believe me. I’ll bring him back to you; I swear on my life.”
God, this idiot really did think of everything.
“…Sarada?” He prodded when she didn’t answer.
“Shut up,” she said quietly, almost instinctively, because she wasn’t sure she could stay calm if he kept talking. With a jerk of her hand, Sarada ripped the choker off her neck and fiddled with the metal ring until it came off its hook. It was an homage to her mother’s clan, but she could find an easy replacement.
Wordlessly, she grabbed Boruto’s hand (his body went rigid as he watched her, entranced) and slipped the ring on. By sheer luck, it was a decent fit, though Sarada felt a little miffed that she had to settle for such a tacky, spur-of-the-moment gift. He’d done so much for her, put his life on the line to keep her safe more times than she could count, even managing to catch her off guard like this. She wondered if one’s heart could swell with so much affection for a single human being.
Sarada held onto his hand and watched as he stared at her gift in fascination. “It’s a little last-minute, but...” He looked back up at her and Sarada faltered. His gaze was so intense she had to avert her eyes. “I’ll become Hokage, and I’ll stand by your side no matter what. And… when this is all over, I’ll treat you to a Thunder Burger.”
She expectantly awaited his response but Boruto stayed silent, expression unreadable. Did she somehow overstep a boundary trying to reciprocate his kindness? Perhaps the makeshift ring had been a tad too much. Did he somehow realize her feelings ran deeper than the friendship he cherished?
She opened her mouth to retract it when Boruto said, “I’ll be holding you to that last thing.”
Sarada blinked before letting out a breathless laugh of relief, relishing in the way Boruto laced their fingers together almost absentmindedly. She shivered slightly at the heat of his touch and the firmness of his grip. His eyes never left her, a small smile dancing on the corner of his lips. They stood there, basking in each other’s presence as the winds began to pick up. Boruto slowly leaned in and said, “You should go home. Goodnight, Sarada. Leave it to me.”
Whatever it was, she didn’t have a chance to ask. Her eyes widened as he reached out with two fingers and gave her forehead a gentle tap before vanishing, leaving behind a delicate breeze in his wake. Sarada stood frozen for a good minute before leaning back against the tree, unable to hide the smile blooming on her lips.
She recalled how Mitsuki had once called Boruto his sun. That description was no longer accurate, she mused— he was more like the moon than anything: a light of hope glowing amidst the darkness but still shrouded in night. He was no longer the boy who wore his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see. She could hardly get a good read on him lately, but there were still signs— though minuscule as they were— that he shared her sentiment.
Even without that slight hope, she knew she’d follow him to the ends of the earth. That was her promise.