"Nah, I'd Hit." -High Gojo
____________________________________________________________________________________-
The morning light streamed softly through the edges of the blinds in Arsene's room, casting faint patterns across his walls. After the chaos of the previous day, he lay in bed, his head nestled in his pillow, letting the rare quiet settle over him.
The bed was larger than he needed, almost excessively so, but he never minded the extra space. On his nightstand, a recent photograph caught his eye: a snapshot taken during the Chunin Exams of Naruto, Sasuke, Boruto, and the Kage, with himself standing in the corner of the frame, slightly distanced from the group. He glanced at it, feeling a strange pang—a reminder that yesterday had happened.
"Ugh…" He groaned as he sat up, his movements sluggish, almost reluctant. A dull ache from the night before lingered in his muscles. Skipping his nightly training was always a disappointment, a disruption of his routine that left him feeling sluggish and restless.
Reaching over to his phone, he noticed a message waiting for him from Sumire. With a sigh, he tapped the screen to read it, though he knew from experience that another one of Sumire's "favors" was often a slippery slope into tasks he didn't care to do. He flicked his phone off, partly to resist the urge to smash it if her request was just as irritating as usual.
Sighing, he got up and started his morning routine. He removed his mask and walked over to the small basin by the window, grabbing a soft cloth he kept specifically for his eyes.
Carefully, he dabbed around his eyes, taking time to clean and disinfect them, an essential step to prevent the infections that often followed from his condition. But as he wiped the napkin across his face, he froze.
"WHAT!?" he exclaimed, staring at his reflection in shock.
His usual pale complexion had shifted; his skin now held a faintly warmer, more natural tone, as though the blood coursing through his veins was finally carrying a human warmth. But it was his eyes that arrested his attention.
Gone were the dark, unnatural sclera and the piercing red pupils that had marked him as different. In their place were eyes that looked…normal. They were white—almost milky, resembling the Byakugan of the Hyuga Clan. He stared in shock, his mind racing.
"So, that fruit did work…," he murmured, realization dawning on him as he looked around, testing the new abilities he sensed in his eyes. Suddenly, his vision expanded, encompassing not only his house but the entire village and beyond.
The unique 360-degree perception of the Byakugan allowed him to see as if he were standing in multiple places at once, and with a startling level of detail. Through the walls, he saw familiar sights—the trees on the village outskirts, the faint bustle of the village marketplace, and even the tiny movements of termites gnawing away at the wooden beams of his house.
"Oh no, that's not happening," he muttered, frowning. "I spent a month making this place. Termites aren't part of the plan."
After locating the nest, he quickly made short work of the infestation. Even as he dealt with the minor inconvenience, he kept glancing back at his reflection, a strange sense of wonder lingering as he took in his new, more human appearance. He reached up and touched his cheeks, tracing his fingers down to his eyes.
The cracks around his eyes—jagged scars from a past surgery—remained, a stark contrast to his otherwise normal face. To him, they were a reminder of everything he had gone through, a motivation to continue training harder. They were evidence of his past struggles, and strangely, he was glad they hadn't faded.
In a nearby cabinet, he found the special tape he'd received from the Konoha medics to cover the more visible scars. He carefully placed small pieces over the cracks around his eyes, masking the remnants of his old injuries, making his face appear even more ordinary. It was strange, unsettling even. For the first time in years, he felt like he could walk out into the village without the stares, the judgment.
A faint vibration drew his attention back to his phone. Reluctantly, he glanced at Sumire's message: she was at a small diner in the village with Boruto and his sister, Himawari, celebrating Naruto's "recovery" break from his duties. Though it was no secret that Naruto simply wanted a bit of family time, his excuse for taking a break felt both sincere and amusing.
Arsene took a deep breath, his eyes drifting back to his reflection. He never thought he would look so...normal. The idea of actually walking through the village, seeing the looks of people who wouldn't instantly shy away, stirred something in him. A flicker of something like anticipation, or perhaps fear. For years, his face had marked him as different, a shield of sorts that kept others at a distance. Now, that shield was gone, and in its place was someone who looked human.
"...Well...I can…go do it now," he said softly, almost to himself. He slipped on his usual dark clothes, his mask left behind for the first time, and stepped toward the door. With a slow, steadying breath, he pushed it open, letting the light of the village wash over him. It was strange…feeling so exposed yet so free.
...
At Yakiniku Q, Boruto was sprawled across the table, resting his head on his hands, a deep sigh escaping him. He'd hoped to train with Mr. Sasuke today, but his mother had insisted on family time with Himawari and sweetened the deal with a generous 50,000 Ryo allowance. That had been enough to convince him to take a day off, and so here he was, in the middle of the day, wasting away in a barbecue restaurant.
He cast a side glance at Sumire, who was nervously checking her phone, her face lightly flushed. "Are you sure this friend of yours is coming?" Boruto asked, eyeing her curiously.
Sumire snapped out of her thoughts, offering an eager nod. "Yes! He said he'd be here soon," she replied, a faint blush darkening her cheeks as Boruto's gaze lingered on her. Boruto squinted slightly. A dude? he thought, briefly wondering if this mysterious "friend" was a boyfriend.
"Oh, alright… so he's a guy," Boruto said, leaning back and crossing his arms. It would be a little weird if Sumire had a boyfriend she hadn't told anyone about, but he shrugged it off, deciding that it wasn't his business anyway. After all, he had a whole 50,000 ryo to burn through.
Beside him, Himawari, who was now twelve and growing more restless by the day, sighed dramatically, resting her chin in her hands. "Oni-chan, I'm bored…" she murmured, her tone tinged with frustration. With her father and Boruto busy training, she had been itching to become a shinobi herself but hadn't yet reached graduation age.
Boruto chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Relax, Hima. You won't be bored for much longer," he said, his voice trailing off as he noticed a slender figure entering the restaurant.
They were unfamiliar but oddly familiar at the same time—long, soft black hair framed a delicate face, and their dark eyes, partially hidden beneath a beanie hat, had a dreamy, almost ethereal quality. They moved gracefully through the restaurant and took the seat next to Sumire.
Boruto blinked, puzzled, and leaned over. "Umm, sorry, miss, but this is a reserved seat…" Sumire started politely, assuming the person had simply mistaken the table for theirs.
The stranger's frown was barely visible, but their soft voice came out in a light, airy tone. "Oh… sorry about that," they said, in a voice almost melodic. It was a pretty voice, Boruto noted, the kind that seemed familiar but left him unable to place it.
"It's fine. We could use the company, honestly," Boruto said, offering a friendly smile. He couldn't deny it—this person's striking looks were captivating, and he found himself staring a little longer than he intended.
Sumire's gaze flicked from Boruto to the stranger, feeling an awkward tension as she pieced together what was happening. "Of course, the one day Arsene isn't here, this happens…" she muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for Boruto to hear.
The stranger's head turned toward her, a familiar glint of sarcasm in their eyes. "What do you mean, the day I'm not here?" they asked, voice now laced with subtle irony.
Sumire and Boruto's eyes widened in horror as realization dawned on them.
"ARSENE?!" they both exclaimed in unison, their voices carrying through the restaurant, earning a few curious glances from nearby tables.
Arsene's expression remained unfazed as he raised an eyebrow. "Really? You two need to work on saying my name without yelling, especially in a restaurant." He took his seat across from them, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding in his friends' minds.
Boruto's face drained of color as he sat back, staring in mortification. He'd been ogling Arsene? Of all people?
[Auther: Yes! That's right, he's a trap! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.]
Beside him, Sumire's thoughts spiraled into a mortified whirl. Could it be… Boruto is attracted to Arsene now?! She stared at Boruto, her expression a mixture of shock and sympathy.
"Wow! You're really pretty!" Himawari chimed in, breaking the tension with her innocent admiration. She leaned forward, studying Arsene's carefully styled appearance with genuine interest.
Arsene allowed himself a small, confident smile. "Naturally. I put effort into my looks," he replied a faint trace of pride in his tone.
Himawari tilted her head, eyes wide with curiosity. "How'd you get your hair like that?" she asked, her attention fully absorbed as she examined his hair, which seemed softer and fuller than before.
Arsene took the moment to explain his routine to Himawari, detailing his carefully styled hair, which now hung around his shoulders in soft waves. He mentioned the color contacts he wore to cover his Byakugan and make his eyes appear black, though Himawari missed that part, too entranced by his explanation of styling tips.
Meanwhile, Boruto leaned toward Sumire, whispering, "What's with the transformation? He's acting like he walked out of a magazine."
Sumire, still reeling from her disbelief, whispered back, "I… I have no idea! He looked totally different the last time I saw him… He's just…"
"Pretty," Boruto muttered, then quickly cleared his throat, embarrassed by his own words.
Arsene looked over at them, his sharp hearing picking up their murmurs. "Whispering's rude, you know," he said calmly, his expression as unbothered as ever.
Sumire managed to snap out of her daze long enough to speak up, though her voice held a faint tremor. "S-So, Arsene, what made you go all… um, make-over?"
Arsene gave a slight shrug. "Got tired of wearing the blindfold," he replied nonchalantly. "Figured I'd see what it's like to blend in for once." He took a bite of his food, unfazed by the attention, though there was a hint of something unspoken in his tone—a slight satisfaction at being able to sit openly among them.
Himawari looked up at her brother, beaming. "Oni-chan, he should come over for dinner! Right, Arsene?"
Arsene blinked, momentarily surprised by the invitation. He wasn't used to warmth from others. After a pause, he smirked. "Sure, if your dad doesn't mind." He leaned back, feeling strangely content as Himawari chattered on, and Boruto and Sumire continued to process the unexpected transformation sitting before them.
______________________________________________________________________________
[Auther: Yo. I'd hit. Just saying.
Picture:
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!