After Sarada's proactive kiss that night, their relationship quietly reached a new level. Their closeness deepened with each passing day.
Sarada no longer cared about the stares of her classmates. In front of everyone, she gently kissed Boruto on the cheek—boldly declaring her claim.
The classroom instantly erupted in cheers and envious cries.
Although Boruto tried to look calm, his heart was racing with joy. Deep down, he was enjoying every second of it.
"That's great," Denki sighed from his seat, watching the sweet scene unfold.
"What's there to envy?" said Shikadai, shaking his head. "I'm telling you, Denki—girls are trouble."
"Trouble? What do you mean?" asked Denki in confusion.
"You're still too young to understand," Shikadai said with a sigh. Thinking of his mother, Temari, he muttered, "Once you get married, you'll see how troublesome women can be."
"I think you're the only one who'd say that, Shikadai," Metal countered.
At that, Iwabe joined in. "Dating a girl's actually a wonderful thing."
"Oh really?" Shikadai smirked. "Then why are you still single, Iwabe? You've repeated a whole year, and you still haven't dated anyone."
"That's because…" Iwabe stammered, searching for an excuse. "I've been focusing on graduating and becoming a great ninja! I don't have time for that!"
"What a terrible excuse," Inojin teased, smirking. "Look at you—your skin's as dark as charcoal, you're always wearing that ugly red cap. What girl would fall for that?"
Laughter filled the classroom.
Iwabe blushed, but fought back. "At least I look healthy! You're the one who's pale as a ghost—go get some sun, Inojin!"
"Fair skin is natural, I'll have you know," Inojin said, rolling his eyes. "Unlike you, who mistakes sunburn for a tan."
"Still as venomous as ever," Denki chuckled, shaking his head.
Amid the laughter, one figure sat quietly—Sumire. She watched Boruto and Sarada from the side, her gaze complex and heavy.
She loved Boruto too. But seeing the deep affection between him and Sarada, she knew her feelings had no place to bloom. So she buried them in silence, turning her love into a quiet ache.
Time flew by, and before long, the holiday semester arrived.
In front of the Uchiha residence, Boruto knocked on the door.
"Boruto, you're here," Sarada greeted with a bright smile as she opened it.
Boruto nodded and stepped inside. Sitting together on the sofa, he asked casually, "Is Aunt Sakura not home today?"
"Mom and Aunt Ino went on a short trip. They'll be back tomorrow."
Then, as if remembering something, Sarada smiled. "Oh, by the way—I've been learning a few new dishes lately. Want to try them?"
Boruto's eyes lit up. "Sarada's cooking? Of course! I can't wait."
He followed her into the kitchen, where neatly arranged vegetables, fresh meat, and seasonings awaited.
Sarada tied her apron, her movements confident and graceful. Boruto watched her with interest, helping pass vegetables or seasoning whenever she asked.
Soon, the table was covered with dishes—grilled fish with golden skin, braised pork rich with aroma, and a crisp vegetable salad.
"Come try it," Sarada said, handing him chopsticks. "These are the recipes I learned from Mom."
Boruto took a bite of the fish. The flavor melted on his tongue, soft and rich. He smiled.
"Wow, Sarada, this is incredible! You're a natural-born chef!"
Sarada's face brightened with joy. "Really? I was worried you might not like it."
"Not a chance," Boruto said seriously. "If it's made by you, it'll always taste good."
He looked at her earnestly. "You'll make an amazing wife someday, Sarada."
"W-wife…"
Her face flushed red, heart fluttering. She lowered her gaze, smiling shyly.
After dinner, Sarada began cleaning the dishes. Boruto tried to help, but she waved him off. "It's fine, Boruto. You relax—I've got this."
With nothing to do, Boruto wandered around the living room. His eyes landed on a photo frame on the coffee table. Curious, he picked it up.
There were four photos—two of baby Sarada, one when she was three years old, and another that caught Boruto off guard.
"Wait… isn't this a photo of Team Taka—your dad with Jūgo, Suigetsu, and Karin?"
Just then, Sarada walked over, wiping her hands on a towel. "What are you looking at, Boruto?"
"I was just checking out your childhood photos. You were so cute—like a little angel."
A warm feeling rose in Sarada's heart as she looked at the pictures. But then, something strange caught her eye.
"Hold on… Dad's outfit in this photo—it's exactly the same as when you transformed into Pain," she murmured.
She frowned and activated her Sharingan. The scarlet magatama spun slowly, scanning every detail of the frame.
Then she noticed it—the photo of Sasuke wasn't what it seemed. Gently, she opened the frame and discovered that one of the images was partially covered by another.
It was indeed a photo of Team Taka, but one face stood out—the woman with fiery red hair and red glasses beside Sasuke.
"Karin…" she whispered.
Her hands trembled slightly. She turned to Boruto, her voice shaking.
"Hey… Boruto… am I… really my mother's daughter?"