(Why do I care so much about Chitose? )

Boruto blankly looked at Chitose. Blood, so much blood, kept gushing out non-stop from the hideous wound on his neck, flowing so fast that in the blink of an eye a large pool of blood had formed under him.

The black-haired boy had his eyes closed tight, his face serene, the artistic eyebrows and eyes in between showing only indifference.

Boruto stared blankly at him. One after another, people passed by him, surrounding the teenager in panic, only to be pushed away by a familiar pink-haired woman.

Green light shone, and Boruto finally reacted. He stumbled forward, pushing away someone he didn't recognize, and came to the boy's side, looking at his exquisite face under the green glow, at him looking as perfect as a porcelain doll yet utterly lifeless. Boruto started trembling uncontrollably, his teeth chattering, his face turning pale.

Someone patted him on the shoulder and said something. But Boruto could no longer hear anything. Following the force of that pat on the shoulder, his legs went soft and he crashed to the ground, losing consciousness.

***

When Boruto opened his eyes again, all he saw was snow white. His vision was blurry for a moment before the image of Chitose collapsed in a pool of blood appeared before him again. His pupils contracted violently. He bolted up from the bed, throwing off the quilt to jump down from the bed. But the next second, his vision went dark and a sudden dizzy spell made his body sway, about to fall to the ground. Fortunately he managed to grab onto the edge of a table just in time.

He waited there dazedly for a while as his head spun. Suddenly, he heard the sound of the door opening and looked over to see a nurse walking in. Seeing him, she blamed, "You can't stand up so suddenly!"

"Where's Chitose?" The blond boy completely ignored her words and asked loudly like a firecracker the moment he regained his bearings.

The nurse was startled. "Chitose? You mean Uchiha Chitose who was just sent in? He should still be in the operating room..."

Before she could even finish, the blonde boy had already dashed out like the wind. He didn't even have his shoes on, leaving the nurse's anxious calls far behind.

Stumbling all the way, in his disoriented state he didn't know how many people he had bumped into. After winding left and right for some time he finally asked for directions to the operating room. He hurried to the corridor, used the wall to make a sharp turn at top speed, and the first thing that entered his eyes were three people either standing or sitting.

Naruto was originally sitting on a chair with his elbows on his knees and hands tightly clasped, his head bowed low. Hearing the sound, he raised his head to see his panic-stricken son. He tried to squeeze out a reassuring smile on his somewhat haggard face, but he failed.

He could only greet him softly, "Boruto... You fainted just now because of low blood sugar and excessive fright. Why did you run out of the village without eating lunch?"

Boruto did not speak. He glanced up at the red light over the operating room door, suddenly feeling like a huge boulder was pressing down on his chest, making it difficult to even breathe.

At this moment, Naruto had no mind to care about his son’s lack of response either. He only resumed his original posture and continued silently praying in his heart.

Next to the operating room door, Sasuke leaned lifelessly against the wall, the exposed black iris empty and devoid of spirit, the corners of his eyes slightly red. Sarada sat curled up on the floor opposite the operating room, silently shedding tears.

An air of despair quietly lingered between them.

Boruto walked silently to the operating room door and pressed his ear against it, hoping to hear something.

It was ice cold. Also, it was dead silent inside the room, or at least Boruto couldn’t hear anything.

He couldn’t help but start to panic. The image of Chitose in that pool of blood flashed in his mind, refusing to disappear. He felt dizzy in the head, and at the same time his stomach twisted in waves of pain. Fine beads of cold sweat slowly covered his temples, but he gritted his teeth and endured silently.

At this moment, there was only one terrifying thought occupying his mind.

Will Chitose die?

His entire body turned cold, his limbs icy, but despite that, he could still distinctly feel the chill emanating from the metal door under his touching hand on its surface.

That door cut him off from Chitose. Just like how death would cut him off from Chitose as well.

When he thought of the possibility that Chitose might never open his eyes again, Boruto felt as if his entire being had fallen into a bottomless abyss. Despair instantly swallowed him whole, everything around him fading away, leaving only his own anguished breathing. Sweat slid down his chin.

After a very, very long time, the outside sky changed from noon sunshine to night darkness, then from darkness back to morning glow. Finally, the operating room door opened and Sakura with a completely worn out face emerged from within.

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Naruto, Boruto and the Uchihas immediately gathered around her, anxiety written all over their faces.

Sakura did not look entirely relieved. Her brows knitted tightly together. "He's temporarily saved for now, but still not out of danger. The wounds and blood loss are too great... nearly more than half of the carotid artery was severed... That child... really wanted to kill himself," her voice choked.

If she hadn't arrived in time, one after another... If Boruto hadn't knocked the knife away just in time... If that child's blood had flowed even one drop more... She clenched her fists tightly. Then there would be no saving him anymore.

Everyone's faces were deathly pale.

Sakura heaved a deep sigh. "Let's just monitor for now and see if he can pull through today."

Having said that, she left the few people there and returned to the operating room to push Chitose into the ICU. Boruto peeked at Chitose from a distance through the small window on the ICU door after leaving the hospital. The image of Chitose with the breathing apparatus on his face, the mist caused by his breath flickering in and out of sight, remained stuck in his mind. From afar he looked so small, his complexion as pale and lifeless as plaster.

He had never seen such a fragile Chitose before. Never. These days, he had seen many uncommon sides of Chitose, but they did not make him happy at all.

He would rather Chitose remain cold and composed like before. That was still a hundred times better than the current him who was even more delicate than a porcelain doll, or his previous self that looked so grief-stricken as if he had lost his entire world.

It was the weekend. As someone who had waited overnight at the hospital, he was chased off by his mother to go eat and sleep as soon as he returned home. But with the image of Chitose in the isolation ward occupying his entire mind, he couldn’t swallow a single bite of food. Still, unwilling to worry his mother, he reluctantly forced down two mouthfuls under her anxious gaze before retreating back to his room. Lying on his own bed, he suddenly curled into himself and clutched tightly at his shirt over his heart.

His heart hurt so badly. Seeing Chitose like that made his heart ache terribly. He suddenly recalled what that white-haired boy had said. He said that for Chitose, he would do anything. Then what about me? Boruto asked himself.

Can I do anything for Chitose?

He searched his heart honestly. Then he gave a sudden start.

Why am I even thinking like this? His somewhat gloomy blue eyes stared fixedly at the ceiling.

Why do I care so much about Chitose?

***

The next day, Chitose's condition finally stabilized but he still remained in the ICU. Boruto and Sarada were allowed to enter the monitoring room to visit him through the transparent isolation window.

He leaned against the window and silently gazed at Chitose’s pallid face for a very long time without moving a muscle.

When he came out, he noticed the edge of the Hokage's robes peeking out from around the corner of the stairs. Quietly moving closer, he heard Sakura's tear-choked voice.

"That child... his heart stopped beating last night..."

He heard his father heave an utterly despairing sigh, as well as Sarada’s dad’s dazed, broken murmur.

"Does he... not want to wake up anymore?"

Leaning against the wall, Boruto's mind buzzed blankly. It was as if a part had been suddenly carved out of his chest, leaving an awfully hollow space.

After leaving the hospital, he wandered the streets aimlessly, not knowing where he was going but not wanting to stop either.

Eventually, he was called out by a familiar voice. "Boruto?"

It took him one or two seconds before he turned around to see who it was. "...Iwabe?"

Only then did he realize he had unknowingly arrived outside Iwabe's family flower shop.

Among his friends in the village aside from him and Sarada, none of the others knew Chitose was hospitalized, not even Chocho who only had a vague idea.

The blonde-haired boy was crouched among the rows of potted flowers laid out in front of the door, his hands covered in mud as he was obviously tending to the plants. Seeing Boruto looking haggard with dark eye circles under his eyes, he unconsciously stopped what he was doing to stare at him in puzzlement. "What's wrong? Pulling all-nighters gaming again?"

But unlike his usual energetic or even excessive reactions, Boruto just looked at him for a long time before forcing out a very unnatural smile. "No, not that."

That smile looked terrible.

Iwabe quietly observed him. Then suddenly, he smiled. "Come in and hang out," he said, dusting the mud off his hands.

Boruto pressed his lips together, just about to shake his head, but Iwabe had already come over to pull him into his family's shop.

Iwabe's mother Ms. Yuino, who was sitting behind the counter trimming a stalk of flowers, saw them and smiled in greeting. "Oh my, Boruto, here to play with Iwabe?"

Having come to this point, Boruto could only nod. Seeing Iwabe next to him smiling at him as well, a thought suddenly flashed across his mind. Acting on impulse, he blurted out, "Um, Iwabe, can I ask, if someone says to another person, 'I'm willing to do anything for you', what does that mean?"

Caught off guard by Boruto's sudden question, but seeing how intently he was staring at him, Iwabe could only consider it seriously for a while before answering unsurely, "Hmm... That definitely means the person saying that is an extremely loyal follower of the other person."

Boruto's brows knitted tight. "A loyal follower... huh."

Iwabe tapped a finger to his cheek and supplemented, "Yeah. Maybe the other person is also like a god to him, or had saved his life before and stuff like that."

Boruto lowered his eyes. "I see... so that's how it is..." His voice was low, and if one listened carefully there were traces of inexplicable bewilderment and loss.

Seeing him unknowingly give off such a dispirited aura, Iwabe was rather at a loss as to how to continue the conversation as he silently watched him.

An awkward silence descended on the room, broken only by the snipping sounds from Ms. Yuino’s scissors.

Then suddenly, Ms. Yuino put down her scissors. As she wrapped the trimmed flowers elegantly with colorful wrapping paper, she said softly, "But I feel there's another possibility."

Iwabe looked at her doubtfully while Boruto somewhat blankly raised his head, his blue eyes full of distressing confusion.

Ms. Yuino gently and skillfully wrapped the flowers before lightly sprinkling them with some water, making them appear even more tender and delicate. She smiled gently at the bouquet, seeming to be reminded of something. Her blue-green eyes were brimming with smiles as she looked kindly at Iwabe and Boruto.

"That would be... love."

In that moment amidst the flowers, Boruto slowly widened his eyes, his bright blue orbs quivering lightly. The image of the black-haired boy's smiling face emerged in the white radiance before him. When looking at him, Boruto's heart thumped loudly.

Something soft as feathers gently tickled his heart, making it itchy and numb. His fingertips trembled faintly.

‘Love.’ He mouthed in his heart.

As if the fog had lifted to reveal the truth of the matter, a notion gradually took shape clearly in his mind.

He once again came before the black-haired boy's hospital ward, his right hand tracing his serene, handsome face from afar through the glass.

Infatuation swirled in his blue eyes as he quietly gazed at him, his face turning redder and redder.

--Ah, that's right.

He said to himself.

--It's love.