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10% Boruto: Death Comes Quick. / Chapter 3: Excessive Character Development.

Bab 3: Excessive Character Development.

You'll get tired of me writing stuff in their perspectives before long.

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As Boruto walked home, the evening sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the village. His feet dragged slightly, and though the day had been physically taxing, it wasn't his body that felt heavy—it was something deeper. He opened the front door, expecting to hear the familiar sounds of his mom bustling about or Himawari's bright voice calling out to him. But instead, the house was quiet.

The emptiness felt strange. Mom and Himawari must be out for groceries or something, he thought, kicking off his sandals and heading upstairs.

Once in his room, Boruto threw himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind replayed the events of the day on a loop—training with Konohamaru-sensei, hanging out with Sarada and Mitsuki, the usual banter. It had been a normal day, so why did everything feel off?

He rolled over, burying his face into his pillow, but the unease gnawed at him, refusing to fade. What's wrong with me? He couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, something important that kept eluding him.

His thoughts drifted, slipping back to the sparring match with Arsene. That guy. Arsene... His fists clenched instinctively, knuckles pressing into the mattress. Losing to him—that was the problem. But it wasn't just about losing. It was about why it bothered him so much. His dad, the Seventh Hokage, had focused on some random student, giving his attention to a stranger instead of his own family.

Why? The question echoed in his mind, growing louder with each passing second. What did Arsene have that Boruto didn't? Was it his strength? His speed? The way he carried himself, calm and collected, like nothing in the world could touch him?

Boruto's frustration boiled over. He sat up abruptly, running his hands through his hair. "What does he have that I don't?" he muttered under his breath, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth. And then, like a spark igniting dry tinder, a thought struck him with sudden clarity.

He's stronger and faster. That was it. And if Boruto wanted his dad's attention—his respect—he had to be stronger than Arsene. Stronger than anyone.

Without thinking, Boruto jumped to his feet, the fire inside him pushing him forward. He dashed downstairs and out the back door, his bare feet skidding on the cool grass as he stood in the middle of the yard. The night air was crisp, the first stars beginning to blink in the sky above.

"This'll be a cinch," he whispered to himself, though doubt still clung to the edges of his mind. But how do I start? His eyes scanned the yard, looking for something, anything that could help him begin his training. His mind raced through jutsu, techniques, strategies, but nothing seemed enough. He needed more—something beyond the usual routine, something that could push him past the limits he felt trapped within.

Meanwhile, across the village, Naruto sat back in his office, a rare moment of quiet settling over him as he reviewed the day's tasks. Most of the paperwork had been dealt with, and the usual responsibilities were beginning to wind down. But as the hours passed, a different, more personal issue weighed heavily on his mind. Arsene.

Naruto leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He couldn't deny the boy's talent—Arsene was advanced, far beyond his peers. In some ways, that was a good thing; losing to someone like him could only motivate Boruto to push himself harder. But there was a growing problem that Naruto couldn't ignore. Arsene was becoming too powerful too quickly, and if things kept progressing this way, Naruto would have no choice but to send him to the Anbu.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. The Anbu. Even though they weren't as ruthless or secretive as they had been in his youth, the reality was that they still dealt with blood and darkness. Missions were dangerous, life-threatening even. And Arsene—though skilled—was still just a child.

It's not right to send him there, not yet. The thought gnawed at Naruto's conscience. But if he didn't find another way to challenge Arsene, the boy's future could be in jeopardy. Naruto wasn't one to put barriers in front of someone's growth, but there had to be a better way—something less extreme than the Anbu.

"Hmm..." Naruto hummed to himself, deep in thought. How do I keep him here? He knew that Arsene's skills were far too advanced for the regular classes at the Academy. The boy was beyond even the highest-level students. What Arsene needed was a personal teacher. Someone who could push him to his limits, but also guide him, mold him into something greater without risking his future in the Anbu.

Naruto sat up straighter, an idea forming in his mind. A Jonin. That's it. He would find a Jonin-level teacher for Arsene, someone who could challenge him. Once Arsene encountered a true opponent, one who could match him in strength and skill, he'd have the motivation to train even harder.

And with that, the problem would be solved.

As Naruto considered this plan, he glanced at the calendar on his desk. The Chunin Exams were just around the corner, only 25 days away—March 27th. The perfect timing. If Arsene could be trained properly by then, perhaps the exams would provide the challenge and recognition the boy needed. And for Boruto... it would be a chance to prove himself as well.

Feeling a sense of resolve, Naruto stood up, closing the door to his office behind him. The streets of Konoha were quiet as he made his way home, but his mind buzzed with possibilities. He needed to prepare—both for Arsene and for Boruto. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

As Naruto walked through the village, his thoughts returned to Boruto. His son had grown so much, but the distance between them was growing too. The burden of being the Hokage's son weighed heavily on Boruto, and Naruto knew it all too well. He sighed, eyes cast down momentarily as he reached the gates of his home.

I need to do better, Naruto thought as he stepped inside. But for now, all he could do was prepare for what was coming.

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[Auther: I'm still not satisfied with how I'm writing it, at this rate, I'll never grow to like my specific interaction of Boruto...


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Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

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