Thanks for the support. I'm going to start using some translated terms over the Japanese ones, like 'dad' for 'tousan'. Sounds better to me, imo. This chapter is pure third-person Boruto POV. Apologies for the imagery when you see it—I might bump this up to an M if it's too...scenic?

Enjoy!

(Chapter title inspiration: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn.)

Breakthrough
発見
Hakken

2: Everything Hereafter

Inhale. Exhale.

The task was hard even while in a state of sleep he was induced into. When he got his bearings together, he realized that he had been shut into his mindscape once again. His breath was laboriously taxing on his person and no matter how much he tried to alleviate it, his lungs felt punctured with each drawn breath, slowly dragged through with his nostrils or otherwise. It hurt to move, to blink, to do anything that required said inch of movement. The only thing he could do was groan in overwhelming agony as he tried his hardest to calm his nerves and the massive headache that currently felt like it was threatening to split his forehead. His fair locks matted against his face, nearly glued there with his own perspiration. The boy shivered and the cause didn't lie in his being cold either. He hated this; he hated being and feeling so weak and useless.

His entire body felt like lead and the pressure of the headache didn't help any. He just wanted to open his eyes and move. If only he could.

"...s-stupid..." The blond-haired youth grumbled out, though it sounded more like gibberish slurring than actual words itself. Gods, this pain was unbearable! If only he could just die and let it all go. Dying would be a better medicine to this intolerable agony he was currently undergoing. Silently berating himself, he kept trying to move, to get his body to work on the outside. No such luck. His mind was in a haze; whatever happened that made him so weak, he couldn't quite remember. He just wished he was at home, in bed, and with his little sister snuggled up beside him like she used to when she had nightmares—

Wait.

Sister.

Himawari!

Raw determination pooled through his overused and tuckered out muscles. He forcefully worked them into overdrive. He needed to move. He had to make sure his sister was all right! The previous days, weeks or whatever that had passed when they had been taken by that freak flashed before his eyes. All the pain the memories brought fueled his desire to get the hell up and just move. But, as much as his desire was worthy and strong, his body was unresponsive to said desire to get up. Moving even a tiny inch was a chore and a half, and as his friend Shikadai would say, "a pain in the ass." The preteen groaned in frustration. He felt like a ton of weight had been dropped on his chest and the restraint was far too heavy to manually remove. Dammit!

Inhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Cough.

His breathing was speeding up, he realized. He was panicking, sure signs of it. Was his sister all right? The gruesome memory, the last time he had seen his sibling was her looking so lifeless before him. That man—no, that monster—was using her as a form of a chakra battery for him. That bastard didn't want his "precious" new body to wither away. So, he'd have to settle for losing a potential, force driven Byakugan for the sake of keeping him alive. That scumbag. The more he thought about it, the deeper his face twisted into a fierce scowl. How dare he. How dare he!

But-! In another faint memory, hazy as he had been, he remembered his father. That's right; his father had come, blasting in and radiating power! He remembered that snake freak placing him upon some strange contraption that held him in place before said parent entered on scene. Something about it's design was vaguely familiar—that's right, the signs of some fuinjutsu were there. That was the source of his magnetism to the machine.

Then there was some strange light the moment he and his father exchanged a brief glance towards one another. He remembered feeling like something was sucking him in, like a vaccum cleaner. After that? Complete and utter darkness. Slowly piecing these together, the youth tiredly sighed and slowly snapped a hand into his hair in irritation. It was real, all of it was. The whole thing; his kidnapping, the fast paced experiments on his sister and himself and the torture. All that pain—it was too real to ignore. To believe it hadn't happened. Even the look of fear he saw in his father's eyes the last few moments he shared with him. Somehow, someway, that snake freak won.

The boy grunted as he remembered the words Orochimaru had last said to him:

"Sending you somewhere your father will never find you, but I will."

He knew he wasn't a very intelligent lad like his friend Shikadai but he'd pride himself on piecing things together a little faster. His mother had taught him better, and even if he hardly listened to Shino-sensei at the Academy, he wasn't a deadlast. A loud prankster sure, but not a failing student. His mother wouldn't settle for low marks.

But when it came down to this, the boy knew, knew he was nowhere near anyone he recognized or near his home country. Orochimaru must have used that machine to whisk him away, somewhere far where he believed his father wouldn't be able to find him. The Nanadaime's son briefly chuckled quietly to himself; that snake bastard didn't know his dad as well as he thought. The fact remains that he was most likely somewhere else, very far from that laboratory and from his home village, Konoha. Even further from his friends and family. His mother, his sister, his father, his grandfather, his aunt...

'Come on Boruto, pull yourself together!' the boy scolded himself, trying to stop himself from shedding any tears. His attempt at coaching himself was in vain; the warm, traitorous tears rolled down his cheeks regardless of his stubborn resistance. In the moment, he felt like the small, little three year old boy who wanted to be hugged and loved by his parents. He wanted to be enveloped in their embrace, safe and sound, with no worries to care about. With such high strung emotion rolling off him in waves, he felt like he would be alone forever, without the presence of his family, without fulfilling his dreams. Would he die without them knowing where he was now? Would he die knowing the only thing he ever accomplished in life was being a prankster? As only an experiment, a new body just for Orochimaru? Never known as a ninja of Konoha?

Was he doomed to such a miserable end?

Perhaps, this was karma kicking his ass for what he'd done in the past. Perhaps, this was his reward for being a brat, for hating his father at one point, for being disrespectful and taking things for granted. The stories revolving around the near endless hardships of the Elemental Nations seemed like a fairytale, even if it was historically recorded. The trials and hardships his father and every shinobi had gone through to fight for peace and finally achieve a sliver of it before the dark days of the Warring Era. Where everyone was in relative harmony with one another—all major villages had peace with another. There had been no need for fighting, but... Who knew when someone would come and threaten that peace again? They had to be ready.

Still, even after being told that, he continued being childish. Being the son of the Hokage felt draining more than anything. The youth had no idea how lucky he was to be born and grow up in an era of peace, similarly to how his parents were. But what was the point of this peace if he and his sister were victims to people who would want to disrupt it?

Having a few moments to himself, Boruto silently wept at his current situation, the circumstances and thoughts. He knew he shouldn't be crying—he was a shinobi, and that technically made him an adult, right? Well, not until he reached chūnin rank. Whatever; the point was, he was too old to be sitting here sniffling and crying about all his woes. Surely, someone out there had it much worse than this, right? Yeah. He couldn't afford to be sitting on his butt and doing nothing about this. If his parents stopped crying about their hardships then he could do the same. While he still lied about on the floor of his mindscape, Boruto sniffled one last time and wiped his face to clear them of his tears. That snake bastard might have done away with him to prevent his father from saving him, but he wouldn't, no he couldn't, let him get the last laugh. There was no way in hell he would allow him to use his body for whatever sick and twisted crap he had planned.

It ached even in here to sit up but the boy did anyhow, wincing with every strained muscle he used. For such a simple task, it felt like he'd had Metal Lee's ridiculous weights strapped to his body while moving through water. Boruto never felt so lethargic in his life; he silently paid respects to the elder folk who had to deal with such an issue on a daily basis. With that daunting task out of the way, Boruto heaved and attempted to get to his feet. In order to move, he had to wake up his body, right?

Carefully, the preteen moved his arms behind him, the palms pressed to the ground to exert the necessary energy into pushing his body upwards. His knees locked up, and he hissed light curses under his breath when he felt the cramps of discomfort lace up through his legs almost instantly. They were predominantly ached around his thighs. Still, he gradually shifted one leg, a slow pace at a time, under him. The other followed suit although not as smoothly.

Boruto gasped and heaved at the exertion; he could hardly wait to see if his outside body could do in comparison to this in the mindscape. He should be able to move freely and without pain in here, right? Maybe his physical pain transferred into mental pain—that seemed to be the only plausible cause he could think of. With a deep breath, the boy arched his body forward a little, his arms swinging around to push himself up from in front. His laggard movement seemed to take forever, but eventually, he was on his feet. He almost tripped on his own feet but quickly caught himself at the last second, exerting even more energy. Gosh dangit, could he be any weaker?

Then again, it was Orochimaru's fault he was so tired.

Once he was to his feet and steady enough, he took another deep breath and closed his eyes. However, before he could take the reigns of his body, he heard a soft whimpering from behind him. Snapping his eyes open once more, the boy turned his head to look over his shoulder, a bit surprised that something or rather, someone else, was here in his own mind. Who was there? He was just about to pronounce that question verbally when he locked gazes with a very familiar pair of eyes that belonged to a familiar creature. One eye, the left, seemed to glow in a golden yellow hue while the other was an orange-red tone. The fur upon its body was a sienna brown color, with occasional flame-like patterns scattered across it, blinking on and off like a light switch. When he saw the long, nine bushy tails waving behind the creature, something in his mind clicked and the memories flashed and recognition were in his eyes. Boruto's expression softened and he tried to give the creature a smile.

He was relieved in a way that the small—at least, for his size—Tailed Beast was still there. Mabi was still with him. Perhaps he wasn't so alone as he originally thought; he'd forgotten someone else was suffering just as much as he was.

"I'm sorry," Boruto apologized to the bijū, "I did forget you were here, suffering right alongside me. You're as much of a victim as I am. Mabi, can you... forgive me?" The hybrid neko no kitsune tilted his head once sitting up on his hauches. His oddly mismatched eyes stared at the boy, a small smile forming (The queer change of eye color, Boruto filed on the back burner of his mind, however).

"Mabi understand. Ru... in pain. But he... not alone."

That's right. He wasn't alone. The blond sighed though not sadly. Willing himself, the boy slowly but surely walked over towards the nine-tailed hybrid. Each step seemed lackadaisical when executed but he was filled with opposing resolve to travel towards the restrained miniature Bijū. When Boruto reached Mabi, he nearly collasped on the kit. He was grateful his furry companion shifted until he landed into his open paws. Walking was as taxing as getting up, and Boruto would love to see how he'd fare running instead, all his sarcasm included.

The comfort of Mabi's warm fur and presence eased his troubles and worries for a moment. Laying there and being held by the construct of chakra made him feel a pinch safer than when trapped in Orochimaru's labs. For a creature like Mabi, who seemed to be made of literal fire like Matatabi-san herself, he was plushy and warm, like a heated pillow. The Seventh Hokage's son wished he could remain like this for a long time. But, that wasn't to be. He had to make sure his external body was fine and figure out where in the world that snake freak sent them.

It seemed his intentions were silently conveyed to Mabi, since he helped him stand and right himself upward. Boruto gave him an appreciative gesture and turned around, closing his eyes. It was time to figure out where they ended up at.

Boruto

The first thing Boruto did when he assumed control of his body, he spread out and regulated his main, bodily core senses. First was smell; with every other main senses temporarily shut out, he leisurely inhaled through his nostrils. Several scents filtered through though among them the strongest were of dampness, like if it had rained recently. He also noticed the air was clear and fresh, free of those distasteful scents that littered the lab he'd been held prisoner into for a month or so. Boruto found himself taking a few more deep intakes of breath to cleanse the murky junk that he felt were clogging his lungs and airways. As he did so, there were small hints of lingering ash, as if someone had also put out a fire nearby, as well as the smell of wet wood. Was the rain responsible for leaving such a residue behind? Hm, that's peculiar.

When he finiished identifying the smells around him, the boy moved onto the next organ receptor: the sense of hearing. Pushing away all others in favor of capitalizing on listening to his surroundings, Boruto heard the telltales signs of the aforementioned weather he thought he smelled previously. The audible pit pat pit pat of the raindrops falling upon the ground could be deduced as such. 'It is raining or drizzling at the very least,' he concluded to himself and kept listening out just in case. For a brief moment he heard nothing except the rain water's splattering noises and the faint chirp of crickets in the background. Crickets normally chirp at daybreak or when twilight descends. So, perhaps it was around the early morning or late evening. That was the Konoha genin's estimation—though he wasn't too sure.

Moving onto the next one, he focused all his attention on the sense of touch. Using as little movement as he could, whether simply rolling his shoulders into small circles or gripping his hands, he estimated what he was doing or where he was at, in regards to landscape. It was definitely muddy, and there were hints of grass underneath him as well. His fingers had the unfortuate pleasure of being subjected to grabbing mud and caking it between his fingers. For Boruto, he'd rather be gripping said mud than anything else. It was a sure sign he was outside than indoors. For that, he was relatively glad. The rain, he was ever glad to feel it splashing upon his filthy body; he was certain he was dirty and probably smelled of snake, labs and other unsanitary scents. He felt unclean in many more ways than one and he was sure he had "dirt" in places he didn't know he had. Yes; the rain was very welcome. The airy yet damp breeze it carried with it was also welcomed, too.

Once he finished relishing in the slight deluge, he moved onto the next organ sense: taste. He was sure he'd savor the feeling of water in his mouth once he opened it. Boruto only did for a fraction and was granted such the pleasure of tasting the salty flavor of rainwater. At this point, he didn't mind nor care—it was refreshing and sought out memories he enjoyed in his past. Undergoing such a sensational experience like this right now, he felt more relief wash over him. He smelled rain, felt rain and tasted the rain. Now, it was time for the last one and hope he really was outside as he sensed so far.

Opening his eyelids was a chore and a half—it felt like sand crust had decided to camp out and seal them shut. It was a bit painful so he opted to open one eye at a time to measure the intensity and smoothly follow suit with the other. His left had more success in lifting the hood of his eye, the haze glossing over it before the focus began to fade out and compelling a form of clarity to encapsulate. What the preteen could make out was just as he thought; dark rainclouds in the skies above him, pouring out their salty, cold tears upon the world and him. The area around him was just as dark, although not as, and some bits of reflective light could be used to make out shapes nearby. Boruto's eye twitched whenever a drop of water splattered on his eyelid and forced him to refocus from about square one every other second but that was fine. Slowly, he attempted to relinquish his right eye from its enclosed prison to no avail—it seemed stuck there or stubbornly refused to open right now.

It didn't matter to him either way. This experience was like a slice of the Pure Land for him after being held captive against his will and tested on like a lab rat. It was pure bliss and Boruto didn't want to get up from where he current lied. With the clean breeze wafting about, the storm running through his fair locks, the feeling of being alive, was completely comfortable. He felt a semblance of peace.

'But, I have to get up if I want to figure out where the heck I wound up at,' he told himself. The boy exhaled thickly in preparation of moving his body to sit up and eventual stand. Gripping the grimy muck below in both hands, Boruto began the daunting task of simply sitting in an upright position. Unlike in his mindscape where he felt lethargic and pain, in this physical realm of existence he was in pain that he deemed nigh unbearable. The second he shifted his muscles to his backside, he felt as if someone used the Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique on him. The pain shot down his spine instantly and he couldn't help but yelp out pathetically.

It hurt so much, this unfathomable agony! Even as a few more tears of betrayal rolled down his cheeks, he clenched his mouth shut and started over. If going slow doesn't work then he'll have to wing it and move faster. Or as fast as his body was willing to go. He knew he was suffering severe chakra exhaustion. He was amazed he was still going—maybe that could be attributed to his undying resolve to endure all the harsh trials he's undergone thus far. He must bear the weight of such tribulation because he was a shinobi and not only just a shinobi but his father's son. 'If Dad could do this, then so can I. Bearing the life of a Jinchūriki, this is... this has to being nothing in comparison to what the older generations had to go through. I'll get through this. I can't let that bastard get the last laugh!'

Biting his bottom lip, Boruto worked his muscles into overtime, taking what seemed like hours to rise from his muddy bed in the ground to an upright position. The flaming pain laced across his back soon as he settled down from exerting the necessary energy. The grime between his fingers tightened, his hands digging further into the dampness of the dirt to hold himself together. The boy hissed under his breath when he attempted to curl in his legs in preparation for standing. He winced; this was going to be a dozy. Just thinking about putting the effort into trying to stand made him feel a hundred times more slumberous than a hibernating bear in during the winter season.

Unfortunately, he wasn't getting any younger. The only way up was to stand on his feet and look around his area. Preferably before he felt any sign of Orochimaru. The faster he could stand, the faster he could get away from here and find out where to go. 'Okay, on the count of three... 1... 2... 3...!' Once the mental countdown went off, Boruto charged with an influx of raw willpower to bend his terribly aching knees and thighs and right himself up to his feet, which had lost the feeling in them from the lack of blood circulation. The blond-haired boy cringed, carefully stepping around in the muddy ground with his bare feet to "wake" them up. The grimy gunk squishing between his toes with noticeable squelch! sounds was highly unappealing.

Boruto felt volumes of uncleanliness and unpleasantness right where he stood. Sure he was a boy and he did like playing in the mud—well, when he'd been little. Stomping in the rain in his raincoat with his parents and little sister. Those were the fun days.

He smiled wistfully at the brief memory then frowned immediately when he brushed it aside. His dear sister, Himawari, would never smile like her old self again. Orochimaru corrupted her innocence. She would grow up paranoid for life, and the preteen felt it was his fault. If he had been stronger, she would stayed as innocent as they day she was born until she became a shinobi, too. 'If only... But, I can't rely on the "if's" anymore. What happened has happened. What I can do is work towards to making Himawari happy again. In some way. I'll find it. First, I have to survey my surroundings. Konohamaru-sensei told us that on our first mission outside the village.' It had been an easy C-Rank, even though his Dad seemed a little apprehensive sending his team on it. Boruto chuckled to himself having imagined his father's facial expression that day.

Right now though, the memory was bittersweet. It reminded him of the last thing he had seen, the last time he saw his father. How unlovely that turned out to be.

Now that he was standing to his feet—albeit hunching over a little—through his only opened eye, he surveyed his surrounding area. Just as he'd seen previously, it was dark outside with an overcast of clouds blanketing the sky above. The rain, while not heavy, continued to shower the world with its chilly, salty tears. Boruto could make out a few shapes of trees, some rocks here and there, and feel the mud and grass beneath him. It was unfortunate, after some time idly passed, he had not a clue where was was. The landscape was unfamiliar to him; he'd give Orochimaru's odd skulduggery some credit for accomplishing the task of sending him far away for sure. Boruto briefly recalled the mud caked on his hands and tried to clear them off on his ragged pants as best as he could. With the back of his right hand, he rubbed into it to wipe the crust off, hoping to free it from its closed prison. That had little success, but at least he could use both of his eyes to see—somewhat. Once he grasped the idea of the current area, he tried to think of what to do from here. His drowsiness caught up with him, forcing a choking, dry yawn to escape his lips and cloud his judgment for just a brief moment.

A sniffle or two from his own nostrils brought him back to the present day and he blinked away his sleepiness. Falling asleep now wouldn't help him. It would hinder the tiring progress he made; sitting and standing up were both of those self accomplishments.

'It looks like I'm in some wooded area. Not as big, given by the boulders I can kind of make out. Maybe I'm still within the Land of Fire? Perhaps... But, facts still point that I have no idea where I am,' Boruto craned his neck up as far as he could to glance about, hoping to find something familiar to him. No such luck existed for the Konoha genin. 'I need to look around. Might find somewhere I can use to sleep rather than out in the open. Need a fire... Ugh, I wish I learned that Fire Release technique from sensei.'

Taking another deep breath, the Nanadaime's son dragged his legs and put one foot before the other in a tardily manner, ignoring the disgust of the mud between his toes. He'd rather feel happier that he was touching ground of mother earth than steel of the underground base Orochimaru had held him captive in. Boruto's sense of direction, or lack thereof, wouldn't help him here; he didn't know which way was east or west, north or south, or if he was even walking towards a cliff. He also had no idea what time it could be despite the strange streak of light that could be detailed in the sky. It looked like a mixture of orange and dark blue.

Boruto trudged forward through the clods of earth with his mind empty save for the heightened resolve to find somewhere relatively safe for him to lie down and sleep off his weariness. He wasn't going to ignore his body's need for more sleep. Though, he wished he could eat something at the same time. How long had it been since he last had a meal? Thinking about food made him think about his mother. She was probably the best cook he'd ever known; he could remember the tasty and fluffy light pancakes she made in the morning. Oh boy, what he'd do to have one of those right now. Maybe even fifty. Recalling some of the delicious dishes she'd make made his stomach grumble in protest, reminding him of his stomach's famished status. It took as of his willpower to stop himself from keeling over when the low, drawn out growl and pain that erupted from his stomach. Oh gods, he didn't know how long he'd continue running on fumes alone anymore.

The boy stumbled over his feet but managed to not fall down completely. He caught himself, thankfully on a random tree's branch to his left that he automatically clutched. He panted from the exertion, feeling the burn spread to his chest. Why did it feel so hot all of a sudden? The rain had been doing a good job of cooling him off—and of course, keeping him drenched. Few moments later, he released his grip on the branch, forcing himself to taking baby steps forward, keeping his head down in fear of making any mistakes of stepping on something. The rain felt like a chilling cover for him, dampening his usually spiky locks, matting his bangs to his face, and rinsing off the muck as he went. Not all of it left him; he could feel the rest lingering upon him like an itch he couldn't scratch. Totally bothersome.

'If only I could use sage mode now. I'd be able to detail at least what was around me. But I can't even do that, let alone a Kage Bunshin. I don't even have enough chakra for a simple Kawarimi.' The young boy mused to himself, irritated beyond repair. His situation wasn't getting any better and he'd dare not jinx it further than it was. The last thing he needed was something more to crap on his life. What ever had he done to this world to deserve this? Rhetorically questioned or not, he felt the answer was due in part to his past behavior. 'I can't even think straight... I need to lie down somewhere. For like... five hundred days or something...' Chakra exhaustion coupled with physical and mental exhaustion, hunger, weariness and dizziness—sleep was just the medicine he needed right now. If only he could find somewhere safe, but in any direction he looked, it was dark and hazy. Only various shapes could be made out and he could hardly see what was in front of him.

He knew he had to stay somewhat awake to be aware. There were other dangers out here in this apparent wilderness, like bandits. In his weakened state, he wouldn't be able to defend himself he was sure of that. A rogue with no ninja training could take him out in a heartbeat, regardless if he sensed them out or not. But, staying awake was harder done than said; every second that ticked by gradually increased his weariness levels. It was only a matter of time before he gave out.

Finally, after what seemed to be for so long, he couldn't take it anymore. When he stumbled over the next time, he let himself fall forward, not bothering to catch himself. He expected to tumble face first into more muddy grime, imprinting his body shape into the clogged dirt. It was no surprise he met the ground once again, meeting his expectation right on schedule. What else happened after that, however, wasn't in his assumed "plan of attack", in relation to tumbling down. The boy slid across the muck and mire, tumbling even further, down a narrow slope and into some sort of basin alcove. Boruto lifted his head up in one more attempt, trying to assess his new location but after a quick second, he buried his head back into the ground. He tried, he honestly did, to keep going, but it wasn't enough. He was far too weakened to move anymore. He felt his entire body was on fire, and the rain wasn't helping anymore. In addition to that, he was filthy, whole and completely. He'd need to take several showers to clean off the grime that caked upon his bare chest, hands, in his hair, essentially everywhere.

The boy spat out whatever muck got into his mouth and gagged. That was disgusting. At this point, he didn't care anymore. Maybe mother nature would kill him off and then he'd be free. Perhaps his death would ensure Mabi's freedom, too. He'd be able to wander around freely without being controlled, thus ruining Orochimaru's plans that way. Or, at least stalling them. All in all, Boruto felt like an utter failure, like trash. First he couldn't save Himawari and now he couldn't even save himself. Seriously, what kind of shinobi had he turned out to be? Some sort of fluke?

His dull, sapphire eyes glanced at nothing from where he lie, though their lids were growing heavier by the second. The very thought of sleep was tempting—to hell with the danger he could possibly be in. From Orochimaru to random missing-nin to bandits, he was probably better off dead and forgotten. Right where he was; in some ditch, hungry and deprived of social interaction and love. In his last moments of awareness, he remembered the warm smiles of his family, the beautiful village of Konoha, and the luxuries he once had. He couldn't stop himself from shedding a few tears, again, at the gravity of his situation, and the crack of his resolutions.

'I just want to go home. I don't want to be here anymore. How much more can I endure until this ends?'

His eyelids drew closed and the world was out of his sight. Boruto wouldn't know when the next time he'd ever wake up again.

Boruto

Voices.

He could hear them. What they were talking about he wasn't sure of. They seemed to be muted or at least a distance away from him. What was the topic about? Who were they? Could it perhaps be someone had found him? Were they friend or foe? Did they have any idea he could possibly be nearby? Ugh, if only he could get up! Boruto strained his already overused senses to focus in on the two voices. There were some words he could make out, however.

"...happened...on ...m... ould do... agi?"

"...not sure... ut... showed... gress... have...ealing ...ink you... uld... yu?"

The first voice apparently paused before speaking up again. "Probab... b... it's... n... ix days... t... ch... of a... ign... still..."

"...tta keep... ing... we... p..."

"Okay... ive me... ments... epare."

What was happening? What time was it? What day was it? Who were those people? Did they know he was there, lying in some ditch, awaiting for death to claim him? Were they just passersby without a care in the world? Would they notice him? So many questions he had, so many answers he wanted, but his inability to open his eyes prevented such the desire.

The Seventh Hokage's son strained himself until he heard the telltale signs of someone's sandals walking through the squish of the mud and wet grass. Those footsteps were coming closer towards...him! Perhaps they did find him? What were they going to do? Apprehension built up in his core and he fought to wake up but realized it was nigh impossible. He was stuck in whatever position he wound up in when he fell last time—whenever that was—and couldn't defend himself. Maybe they were going to put him out of his misery. It'd be the best thing to do to someone who's beyond the gate of life. Or close to it. Whoever they were, Boruto wouldn't hold it against them—they were doing him a favor anyway. Resigning himself, he awaited the kunai, the blade, or the technique that would ultimately take the remains of his life.

Rather than either of those, he felt a damp cloth dabbing at different places on his face and neck, as if the person were trying to cool him down. It was removed in favor of placing it into something with more water, the light splash and wringing noise audible enough to detail it. The cloth returned, the person's hand above the cloth wiping down in gentle strokes. Whoever it was continued applying wet doses to his face, most likely hoping to cool him down or whatever.

"I know... re still... live," the person began, although Boruto wasn't sure if he heard them clearly or not, "You'll rec...er... I'll have... keep watch... ou." They sounded male, probably around his teens, although his voice was unfamiliar. The man-whoever-he-was placed his hands upon Boruto's chest, carefully and began applying chakra to them. The soft hum reminded the blond of Sakura-obasan's medical ninjutsu and assumed that was happening now. Healing. This unknown guy was healing him?

Suddenly, the boy felt some chakra entering his system. It wasn't the medical ninjutsu but rather as if someone was performing the chakra transfer technique. The energy itself wasn't malicious, like when he felt Orochimaru's slowly leaking into his own, trying to bind his will. It was just very potent and different. After some time, the healing stopped as well as the chakra transfer. The young man seemed his work was done for now or something to do something else. He must have picked up his right arm and held it since that's what he felt. Few seconds later, his arm was placed down and the mysterious guy's presence vanished.

Boruto, unable to open his eyes to take a glimpse of his apparent helper, fell into a sense of comfort and security. He soon found himself lulled back to sleep once again, with the tender sound of a breeze rustling by. The world's euphony eventually faded out like a song on the radio.

...

A warm smile decorated his face when he saw his house. The garden was as he remembered it; flowers blooming and numerous, miniature trees gave it a far-off cabin feel, even though it was within the village. His mother was standing outside the doorway, the brilliant sunshine elevating her already motherly beauty. He saw her activating her Byakugan to see far off. Her mouth formed into a tender smile of her own when she apparently spotted something and deactivated her bloodline. Stepping beside her was his father, grinning wide for himself. The two seemingly shared an exchange before the man cupped his hands together close to his mouth.

"Boruto! Himawari! It's lunch time! Better hurry up or I'll eat it all!" He called out.

His heart fluttered with many emotions at once at the call of his name. He was about to step forward when he realized he was stuck to his current spot. Coming into view was a young boy with blond hair, around seven years old, racing back with a three-year-old girl with dark hair following behind him. The two were giggling and laughing as they raced home. When the two children saw the man in the doorway, they immediately latched onto him, excited.

"Dad!" the little boy shouted in glee, jumping up and grabbing the man's right arm.

"Daddy!" the little girl squealed out happily, jumping and grabbing the man by his left arm.

The father had such a wide smile on his face when he was greeted by the children, easily lifting them up to sit in each arm as they participated in joyful laughter. "Hey, hey. There you two are. Did you have fun playing outside?"

"Yeah!" the pair of kids cried out together.

"That's good. Well, come on kids! Your mom made some delicious lunch. Let's go and eat!" The woman smiled as she was mentioned before stepping inside.

"Yay!" the two children giggled together as their father took them inside the house. Soon as the door closed behind them, he could hear their laughs even where he stood. The sound was harmonious to ears and he wished he were inside with them. To be apart of the eurythmic scene. Suddenly as it was peaceful, a forlorn darkness cast down upon the house and its surroundings! The grass turned from its lush vegetation to dried up and littered with weeds. The trees around withered to nothing but dead bark. The house fell into an abrupt abandon; windows shattered, doors off their hinges, things busted in. It looked haunted, out of a movie or story. The skies transformed from their cheery blue to a dreaded pitch black—it was a mockery of the once blue canvas painted with clouds.

Within the skies, he saw three tomoe marks materialize, all intersecting in a familiar pattern he wished to forget. It was the Cursed Seal of Heaven!

The scene flashed away from his house and into the epicenter of Konohagakure. People were screaming, running and falling dead like flies. The pavement he stood over was cracked as if someone manipulated the ground with a devastating Earth Release technique. What had happened? Why was it happening!?

"Ku, ku, ku."

That laugh!

He whirled around, hoping to spot the owner of the voice, but couldn't find that bastard! Where was he!? Fists clenched, he sought to find the snake freak and was a little surprised that he wasn't rooted to his spot like before. He dashed around Konoha, the city large but he was able to navigate through the streets easily like the back of his hand. It wasn't too long until he encountered another scene, this one almost disturbingly similar to the one from Orochimaru's labs, the last time he had seen his father.

And there was the man of topic, alight in a different form this time. His entire body was in the cloak of Kurama-ojisan's chakra. The fox himself was standing beside his father, in the same flaming aura. On the opposing side of the makeshift battlefield was Orochimaru himself, grinning devilishly. They were having some sort of stand-off. That didn't last much longer until the snake sannin began to 'peel' off his face. He watched in disgusted horror alongside the Nanadaime as Orochimaru discarded his skin to reveal... himself?

He saw his father's face transform from its scowl to mortified disbelief then finally to outraged anger.

"Bastard!" He heard his father cry out.

The look-alike of him just chuckled deeply, as if amused by the scene. He looked every way like him, but the eyes were that in possession of the snake sannin. It wasn't him at all—he had been taken over by that freak. He was using his body to destroy Konoha! "Do you not like my new look, Naruto? After all, it is the spitting image of you. It's perfect. I'm so close to perfection! And it's clearly thanks to you for having such untainted offspring." Before either Uzumaki male knew it, the Orochimaru-possessed boy began to ignite in a similar flame as the Nanadaime. Except, this flaming aura was blue with orange-ish flickers occassionally emitting from them. He knew what the power was, where it came from.

Mabi.

His father and Kurama-ojisan were slightly confused for many reasons and one of them was due to the fact they could sense it. The familiarity of the chakra encasing the not-his-son's body. It felt like the Nibi and Kyūbi were in one. It was unlike anything they've ever felt before, not including other circumstances. Both, however, could feel one thing in congruent with this mysterious chakra; it was pain. A twisted, malicious and corrupted intent of something's pain. He could feel it too. It was the young tailed beast that had been created within him. It was agonizing.

"I didn't think you'd have fallen so far, Orochimaru. First Sasuke... Now my son... If there were anyone that couldn't be redeemed enough, it's you." He heard his father speak. He noted the man was trying his best to speak with a calm mind, but he knew better. His father was absolutely livid."You had a chance to change... Perhaps it was foolish of me to realize that somewhere down the road you would change. But now, you're starting back on that dark path once more." His father tightly clutching his hands into shaking fists.

Orochimaru didn't seem the least bit fazed by the tongue-lashing he just received and simply smirked. "Naruto, you should have known better. But I suppose if you wish to stop me, you're welcome to try. But before you do, think about the boy you claim as your son. He is very persistent in resisting me—you wouldn't want to hurt your little boy, would you?"

The Nanadaime was shaking, not in fear, but in rage. He knew he was right—while he was controlling that body, he'd be harming his first-born child as well. He knew it as well and was staring at his father. Would he do it? Would he really charge the snake freak and kill him while he was still alive in his own body? Would he risk it? The man who adored and cherished family... killing the very same family he promised to protect? He could only shake his head in fear, sadness, guilt, and denial when he saw his father glaring at Orochimaru and taking steps forward. No, no, no! He couldn't! He wouldn't!

He began running at the possessed boy with nothing more but murder in his red eyes.

No, no, no, no!

"Ku, ku, ku, ku..."

No! No, please, no!

He saw his father raise his right hand, the Rasengan forming to life within seconds as he charged forward! His battle yell was like a lion's roar, his rage fueling it further as he advanced closer! The spherical blue orb of dense chakra kept whirling to life, leaving a whitish-blue streak behind it as his father was an orange blur flickering about.

No! Don't do it!

His voice, no matter how much he shouted, his father didn't hear him. He kept going until he saw the Seventh Hokage right in front of Orochimaru. He screamed in pure terror, collapsing to his knees, his hands digging into his scalp, blond strands pulled forcefully out of his hair, and tears streaming down his face as they continually fell. It was in slow motion that he saw the man that fathered him thrust the Rasengan deep into his chest.

The color red was everywhere. It was everywhere. On him. On his clothes, on his father's face. A deep heartbeat pounded in his ears as the gruesome scene remained. It thundered at the door of his mind. He couldn't hear anything from it—not the voices, not the people, nor were they visible anymore. No one could hear his terrified screams of denial, for his father to stop. The heartbeat grew louder, louder, louder.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. BA-DUM.

No. No. No! He looked down and saw himself in a different setting. It was within a large room with gigantic, silver cage behind him, with water reaching his ankles. The tag for "seal" was upon it, keeping something at bay. Before he realized it, dark black chakra emitted from behind the bars, forming around him, encapsulating him. He couldn't move. Couldn't run. Couldn't breathe! No matter how much he struggled, how much he protested, he couldn't break free! He could only hear one voice.

"Ku, ku, ku, you are mine now... I told you before I would find you."

No. No! Not here! Not now!

"There is no escape, little Uzumaki. You're far gone to save now..."

Hands suddenly grabbed him and shook him, as if trying to strangle him. No, he couldn't let it kill him. Couldn't let it win! He had to fight back! His eyes saw the ones of the small tailed beast staring at him. But, those eyes of the young creature were filled with no such emotion. They were disintered in his power struggle, his strife. But, if he was here, was he to assist?

"You didn't protect me, father."

'No, I did, Mabi. Believe me. I did. I did! With everything I had!'

"The snake man took you over and used me. Father, I thought we were friends. Inseparable. Why did you leave me?"

'It wasn't my fault!'

"You didn't protect me."

'I did!'

"You didn't protect me."

'I-I did... I tried my hardest!'

"You didn't try hard enough, father. You betrayed me."

The image of the neko no kitsune began to fade, repeating the same lines in slow, mechanical repetition. There was no end to it. His voice resonated and echoed across the room. It was everywhere. He couldn't escape! There was nowhere to run to even when he was mysteriously released from the chakra prison. Every direction he ran into on his bare feet ended up in dead ends or endless twists and turns. The cage kept coming back and the murky water turned to blood. Before he knew it, he was trapped. The blood kept coming, kept chasing him. No escape. No escape.

And soon, his father was there, with those cold eyes of his. The Rasengan was in his hand once more and the man thrust it through his chest, piercing through muscle tissue and bone alike with ease. "This is the end of you, Orochimaru."

'No, I'm... your son... Boru...to...'

"You damn liar. My son is stronger than the likes of you. For everything you've done... For all the pain you've caused... The world is better off without you, bastard." The image of his father withdrew his bloodied hand and the sight of the Rasenshuriken replaced it. The last thing he saw was the Nanadaime throwing it and its direction expanding towards him. Closer, closer, closer, the whirling noise screeched until it hit its mark!

Shnnk!

He couldn't feel himself. Only in that dark moment, he saw himself split asunder... The crimson liquid puddling beneath his halves, from his mouth... His form was lifeless, his eyes lost their luster. He could see himself and yet, he couldn't believe it. Was this his fate? To be rejected by Mabi? To be killed by his father?! Terror seized his heart as the sinister cackle of the snake sannin echoed all around him...

This couldn't be! No, no, no, no...

NO!

...

"Kid! Pull yourself together! You're having a nightmare!" Someone shouted, shaking him fervently. His arms and legs went wild, punching and kicking out in random directions to shake off the strange hands that were on him. No, no, no. It couldn't be happening! Not again! "Kid! Wake up!" The voice was urgent. Before he knew it, something wet splashed upon him and he jolted up immediately, eyes agape and heart pounding in his chest. Something blue was introduced to his face and he reacted like any sane person at this point would; he punched out.

"Ow!" the same voice from before groaned. Boruto blinked, trying to gather his senses together from his mad panic. When his haze faded out, standing before him was a man, probably in his twenties, had electric blue hair that was styled oddly—a large part of it appeared spiked up towards the right. He was wearing armor similar to those of Land of Iron origin would, although in a silver, white and blue attire, with a burnt orange scarf around his neck. His eyes were as equally blue as his hair and he was currently nursing the bruise on his left cheek. When their eyes met, Boruto's expression held extreme guilt. He was about to apologize when he noticed he wasn't feeling in the mood to. Not to be rude, but he didn't trust himself, or his voice's capabilities, just yet.

"Apologies for splashing you with water. You weren't waking up when I shook you. I had to do something," The man began, massaging his bruise before adding, "You definitely have a nice right hook. I guess that's what I get for trying to wake you so suddenly." A whitish-green glow, medical ninjutsu, emitted from his hand to begin the self-healing process. With his other hand, he offered the blue thing again, which turned out to be a towel. The blond stared at it for a moment before taking it, closing his hands around it. The texture was a little rough but still soft enough to be used. He used it to wipe the notable sweat and the splashed water from his his face. "You're probably wondering where you are now?"

A silent nod was the man's answer and he accepted it. "We're around the borders of the Land of Fire and what my friend hilariously dubs as the 'Land of Rain'," he answered, catching the boy's attention. His cheery disposition transformed into a grim one. "My friend found you several days ago in some ditch. To be honest, we thought you weren't going to make it. He asked me to use everything I knew to help you out. Of course, I was going to. Couldn't leave a kid to die without trying something." Boruto frowned and looked away. So, people did find him after all, and he almost died? His facial expression must have clued in the other male because he spoke up again.

"Hey," he placed a hand on the lad's shoulder, trying to offer a sincere smile, "I don't know what happened to you out there... But, you're alive. You can go home and return to your family and friends." That had some effect but not much. The boy continued to nod silently, kept his head down and finding much interest in his bare feet than keeping eye contact. The blue-haired man removed his hand in order to concentrate the medical ninjutsu into both hands and press them upon Boruto's chest. Once a quick examination of that was over with, he ceased the chakra and nodded.

"Looks like you're all right for now, but we'll hang around for a while until you're ready. I'll come check on you a little later, okay?" Another nod was his response. "By the way, my name's Ryu. Another kid with teal hair in red might come in sometime is my friend. His name's Sagi. Don't worry, he's friendly. When you're feeling better, you can tell us your name later. Right now, just get some rest." Still not trusting his voice, Boruto gave him one last nod before the blue-haired man departed. Now that he was relatively alone, the blond took the time to examine his new surroundings.

No longer was he in that murky atmosphere. He was inside a tent, a green one at that, most likely a camping one due to its size. He was currently lying on a collapsible cot, complete with a faded blue blanket with just enough cotton to be comfortable during cold nights. Of course, his legs were no longer covered by the blanket—he must have kicked it off in his frenzy. That horrible dream. Boruto shivered; he didn't want to relive that terror right now.

The tent was pretty standard and not overtly done like a noble's would be when they travel. At least, from what he's heard. The Konoha genin examined his body next. Gone were the muck and mire; his hands and feet appeared cleaned off. He experimentally ran his hands through his hair, noticing how it spiked up into its usual, normal style—that of an upside leaf for whatever reason. His abnormal ahoge seemed to be back in its usual place although a tad longer. He didn't mind about that.

His hands went to his face, noticing the softness of his skin. He was sure there had been a scar or two on it. Glancing down, he was wearing a shirt that wasn't his nor anywhere near his size. Perhaps two sizes bigger, with the sleeves rolled up. The shirt was a plain, dark gray color. The pants he currently wore were the same color and also a couple sizes too big on the legs but he didn't care. They were clean and fresh. Remembering something from this nightmare, Boruto quickly lifted up his shirt and touched his bare chest all over for any sort of imprint of a Rasengan shaped hole. He found none and soon felt momentarily dumb. He had just written off that dream as a nightmare and here he was checking to see if it was real.

He was eternally glad it wasn't. His father being the one to kill him if Orochimaru ever took over his body... That was a scary thought. But, rationally thinking, what if it was the only way to kill the snake bastard and save him, his son, from his grasp? What if that was the only thing he could do? Boruto suddenly got the jitters and hugged his knees to his chest. He couldn't let that happen. He didn't want to die, not when he had another chance, another shot, to get things right.

Ryu, was it? He said they were on the border of the Land of Fire and wherever that village, Amegakure, resided in. They were close to Konoha. If he remembered correctly, it was about a weeks' time away, if he excluded the random bandits should he encounter them. Orochimaru won't have the last laugh now. He was nearby his home country. His dad most likely returned to Konoha to have his sister, Himawari, treated at the hospital before finding possible conclusions to his whereabouts. Well, that's what he hoped. His father was bull-headed when it came to family and friends. He wouldn't abandon him because he had been whisked away would he? No, of course not.

Boruto just had to believe in those good thoughts and rebuild his resolve. Things had looked bleak but now they were looking brighter. Ryu seemed like a good man—perhaps he could help him get to Konoha. After that, they could part ways. His father would likely commend them and do something nice for saving and helping him. Hokage's son and all that. 'That's what I'll do. I'll ask him... Somehow. My voice still doesn't feel right and I don't feel one hundred percent. Maybe at thirty percent right now. It's... better than what I felt like those days ago. Or however long ago it was.'

Several days ago could be translated to weeks. They could tell him how long and estimate from there. Being gone for that much longer, away from home; everyone must be worried sick. Going back now would ease their worries and Sasuke-ojisan could help remove the cursed seal on him; it was a power restraint and utilized chakra simultaneously. For a shinobi, it was bad news. But, what would that do to Mabi? The seal was connected to the other one that was used to contain the tailed beast inside him. Would he disappear? The seals connected him and Boruto together as well; while the blond's chakra funneled through normally, some of it was filtered into the containment seal to give Mabi the power fuel he needed, converting it into chakra for the creature. In exchange, the chakra taken by Matatabi and Kurama to create Mabi would maximize and channel through his chakra network to invoke a Tailed Beast Cloak.

From his brief understanding, that's what was currently happening now. Inducing Sage Mode boosted this effect when he used it during their attempted escape.

Speaking of Mabi, Boruto hadn't visited or spoken to him in a while. The poor thing must have been worried sick himself. The only issue was contacting him without going into his mind. Was it some sort of telepathy power? Or, was it acknowledging the Bijū that allowed them to see through their senses? It was best to test it out.

"Mabi?" Boruto called out quietly to himself, waiting patiently. He didn't have to wait long. He heard a quiet yawn emit from within and it settled down a few seconds later.

"...Ru?"

Oh, good. So, they did have that weird connection going on. That was a relief. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry for waking you up. Are you doing okay?" It was a little while before the neko no kitsune responded.

"Mabi fine... But Ru in pain. Bad dreams. Ru... Okay?"

"I'm going to be okay. Don't worry about me." That would be impossible. The critter was always worried ever since he was aware. Boruto looked around, carefully, and asked, "Can you see what I see and hear?" The blond overheard a little shuffle of movement, probably the hybrid sitting up in a sitting position.

"A lot of green," was the reply's first line, "And... some sound... like a fan..." He finished but trailed off, seeming unsure. Boruto gave him a mental nod of approval. What he saw was green, the tent, and what he heard was the breeze outside. It would sound remotely like a fan.

"Good. Listen, you'll be seeing a lot of new things soon. Don't be afraid to ask me, okay? I'll answer you the best I can. It's going to be really different from now on. Think you can handle it?" The boyish chakra animal would be in the surprise of his early life. He'd never seen trees, grass, clouds, buildings—save for the imagery of Konoha he had going in his mindscape (which hardly counted)—the sun and the moon. It was going to be a culture shock extreme and preparing him now was in their best interests.

"Mabi handle what Ru can."

That very sentence brought upon a faint, genuine smile on Boruto's face. He was glad to have a committed companion, one that would take a challenge head on. He spoke with conviction, too. That proved personalities must have passed on unintentionally. "I'm glad, Mabi. Thank you."

Konohagakure. He may have lost his headband but he wouldn't lose being a citizen of the village. It was time to take his life back and give the middle finger to Orochimaru and his schemes. The bloke most likely didn't count on unknown factors, such as other people finding him. Ryu seemed to be a nice fellow and didn't smell of snakes—he smelled more like wet hair and iron. Definitely a person originating from the Land of Iron. Perhaps with his and his friend's, Sagi's—he believed that was the other's name—help, he could get home and fix this mess. His heart beat at the prospect of returning home, finally, after what seemed like a long time. He couldn't wait to see his friends and his family again, especially his mother.

I'm almost home, Mom, Dad, Himawari. Please, wait for me!

Review if you like; don't review if you don't like.

Ryu & Sagi: characters from other games that are inserted in this fic for helping Boruto in his small segments. They won't be permanent and I couldn't think of any characters of mine either (I was too lazy, lol).