𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 | Kawaki Uzumaki ✓

010

I finish packing my ninja bag with all the essentials: pyjamas for the night, toothbrush, hairbrush, and, of course, underwear. Because let's face it, if you don't change your underwear at least twice a day, get the fuck away from me. My ninja pack, which I strap to my thigh, holds 15 shuriken and 6 kunai. I take a quick glance in the mirror, making sure my ninja attire is all in place.

I let out an annoyed sigh. Why do I have to be part of this mission? It feels like child's play, too much effort for not enough reward. The only reason I agreed to go is to see how Boruto, Mitsuki, Sarada, and Kawaki act when they're together.

My role is straightforward: give them instructions and then just watch them do the work. Basically, I'm supervising a bunch of genin on a glorified errand. But the truth is, I'm curious about Kawaki—how he interacts with others and whether there's more to him than meets the eye.

A part of me wonders how I could make this mission more interesting for myself, even if it means stirring up chaos. The idea comes to me almost instantly: What if I opened the time-travel scroll? We could get sent back in time, and one person could deliver the unopened scroll back to Lord Hokage so he could retrieve us. Would it cause chaos? Yes. Would it be entertaining? Absolutely.

I'm a genius.

I head to the kitchen, where I find Mom fussing over Sarada, ensuring she's safe and has everything she needs for the mission. It's almost suffocating how protective she is with her. Meanwhile, I get a "take care," "be safe," or "come back in one piece." Ever since I joined the Anbu Black Ops, it's like she stopped caring, stopped worrying. Maybe it's because she thinks I can take care of myself now, but it feels like something else. Like she's given up on me in some way.

"Be safe, Sarada," Mom says, hugging her tight. "Don't get injured.

And Mum goes on and on and on, as if she's praying that Sarada doesn't die on this mission. I step behind Sarada, keeping my voice flat as I tell her, "We need to go."

As we head toward the door, Sarada a few steps ahead of me, Mum rushes forward and wraps her in the biggest hug, squeezing her as if she's trying to keep her safe with just her embrace. "Stay safe, Sarada. Please, don't get hurt. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"I'll be fine, Mum," Sarada reassures her, but I can see the hint of concern in her eyes.

As for me, my vision clouds and blurs, but it's not tears; it's anger. Red-hot, boiling rage.

"Y/n?" Mum says, her voice tinged with confusion, noticing the rigidness in my posture and the dark look in my eyes.

"This is so unfair," I say, my voice detached, almost robotic. It doesn't feel like it's me speaking, but I know it is. I can feel the burning heat in my chest, the raw emotion that I've tried to suppress for so long.

"What's unfair? Y/n, what's wrong?" Mum's tone is concerned, but it sounds hollow to me, as if she's just playing the part.

"You were never there for me!!!" I yell, the words exploding from my mouth. Sarada takes a step back, startled by my outburst. Mum flinches, taking a hesitant half-step forward, her hand reaching out as if to comfort me.

"Y/n—"

"Do you ever bother to ask about what I want?!" I shout, my voice echoing through the room. I storm back to the kitchen, and as I do, I can feel the rage coursing through me. "I'm not going to be like Sarada! You walk around telling her what to do, what not to do, like she's your perfect little ninja, and you always do it when I'm around! It's like you want me to be exactly like her!"

Mum follows me into the kitchen, her steps hesitant but steady. Sarada stands at the doorway, shocked by my outburst, unable to move.

"Y/n, stop. Don't say that," Mum's voice rises, almost cracking, like she's on the verge of tears. "You're acting like a child, Y/n."