"Hmm, thanks," Boruto said, his eyes lighting up as he dug into the stack of golden pancakes, their fluffy texture melting in his mouth. He took a generous sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice she had handed him, the citrusy tang invigorating his senses. "Whoa, these are actually some pretty good pancakes! You really do have some skill in the kitchen," he exclaimed, flashing his trademark grin that could brighten even the dullest of mornings.
"Thanks a lot," the woman replied, her cheeks slightly flushed with pride as she observed him savoring each bite. She couldn't help but hide a smirk behind her smile.
As Boruto continued to devour the pancakes, each forkful dripping with syrup and accompanied by another refreshing gulp of orange juice, his delight was palpable. "I have to say I'm genuinely surprised," he said between mouthfuls, his eyes widening in appreciation. "You turned out to be a really good cook! That's not just surprising; it's an amazing discovery!" His voice was muffled but filled with genuine admiration.
_____
A knock echoed through the cozy room, breaking the intimate moment. The lady turned to Boruto, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Please wait, Bolt; I will be right back," she said softly, her voice warm and inviting. Boruto nodded, curiosity piqued as he watched her glide toward the door, his attention momentarily shifting from the delicious pancakes to the unexpected interruption.
As she opened the door, three mysterious men stepped inside, their presence casting a shadow over the cheerful atmosphere. They exchanged hushed whispers, and Boruto's brow furrowed with intrigue. What could they be discussing? The lady returned to him, her demeanor unchanged, yet Boruto sensed an undercurrent of tension in the air. He finished his meal, savoring each bite while his mind raced with questions about the men's arrival and what it meant for their cozy breakfast.
Blondie looked at her in confusion, his brow furrowing as the three men stepped further into the room. "Who are they? And what were you whispering to them?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and concern. The lady, however, brushed off his question with a wave of her hand, her expression shifting effortlessly. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about," she said smoothly, redirecting the conversation with an ease that left him both intrigued and slightly unsettled. "Seems like you finished already," she added, glancing at his empty plate before meeting his gaze with a soft, reassuring smile.
Bolt's eyes followed hers to the virtually empty plate, devoid of pancakes, save for a few stray crumbs. His half-empty glass of orange juice caught the light as he lifted it for another sip. "Yes, I did; I thoroughly loved those pancakes," he replied joyfully, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. "In my opinion, you were an excellent cook! I mean, I didn't expect them to be this good." His words flowed with genuine appreciation, the lingering taste of sweetness still dancing on his palate.
"Thank you, young man. You don't know how precious your review is for me, Hokage kid," the woman remarked, her tone playfully harsh, a grin spreading across her face as she noticed the puzzled look on Boruto's.
Boruto gazed at her, bewildered by her sudden shift in demeanor. "Wait a minute..." he muttered, a frown creasing his brow. A wave of unease washed over him, and he pressed a hand to his forehead. "I'm feeling strange all of a sudden. Why am I suddenly feeling so dizzy?" he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely above a whisper.
The room seemed to tilt slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure. The vibrant colors around him blurred for a moment, and he blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the disorientation. The woman's playful expression remained, but now there was an edge of concern in her eyes as she stepped closer. "Are you okay, Boruto?" she asked, her voice softening as she reached out to steady him.
He nodded slowly, though doubt lingered in his mind. The pancakes had been delicious, but something felt off. Was it just the surprise of the mysterious visitors or something more? As he tried to gather his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder what was really going on in this seemingly ordinary morning that had taken such an unexpected turn.
"Oh, are you okay, Bolt?" She approached him, feigning concern as she offered her assistance. "Let me help you; I should take you upstairs so you can lie down a bit."
Boruto looked dazed as he stood up with her help. "Yeah… I'm feeling more dizzy. I would really appreciate it if you helped walk me upstairs."
The lady noticed how disoriented he was, leading him toward the door. Instead of taking him upstairs, she kept a watchful eye on him as he slowly began to lose consciousness. "Everything is ready?" she asked the three men waiting outside.
"Take this kid; he's very precious today. I will join after clearing up everything, leaving no proof behind," she instructed, handing the unconscious Boruto over to the three mysterious men. Their expressions were unreadable as they accepted him, and the atmosphere shifted from casual to ominous in an instant.
------
2 hours later.
"All set?" the lady questioned, her voice smooth yet laced with an undertone of anticipation. The men nodded in unison, their expressions serious as they prepared to follow her orders. With a glint of mischief in her eyes, she instructed them to wake him up. "Wake him up and give him a shot first, then set him for his role; it's going to be a good one." A sly smirk crept across her lips as she glanced at Naruto's child, her gaze filled with a mix of excitement and something darker.
Boruto slowly opened his eyes, still dazed, and looked around, only to realize he was in some sort of dark room. The air was thick and musty, carrying a sense of abandonment that sent shivers down his spine. The faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance, each drop resonating like a heartbeat, heightening his sense of unease. He tried to move but found himself restrained; his body was strapped tightly to the chair he was sitting on, the rough fabric digging into his skin and constricting his movements. Panic began to rise within him as he struggled against the bindings. "Where... am I?" he whispered to himself, the words barely escaping his lips.
The dim light cast eerie shadows across the walls, making the space feel even more claustrophobic and oppressive. As he blinked away the fog of confusion, a sense of dread settled in his stomach like a heavy stone. His heart raced, each beat echoing in the silence, amplifying his fear. What had happened? Why was he here? The questions swirled in his mind like a storm, leaving him feeling disoriented and vulnerable. He strained to recall the last moments before waking up in this unsettling place, but all he could do was sit there, trapped and anxious, waiting for answers that felt agonizingly out of reach.
The man approached Boruto with a calculated calmness, his movements deliberate and unhurried. As he drew closer, the dim light glinted off the syringe in his hand, casting a cold shimmer that sent a chill down Boruto's spine. With a swift motion, he pressed the needle against Boruto's neck, the sharp sting of the injection cutting through the haze of confusion. A moment later, Boruto felt a strange warmth spreading through his body, mingling with his rising panic.
Without a word, the man then moved to unfasten the ropes that bound Boruto to the chair, his fingers deftly working to free him. As the bindings fell away, Boruto felt a fleeting sense of relief wash over him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the unsettling reality of his situation. The man's gaze remained impassive as he began to remove Boruto's clothing, each layer slipping away with an unsettling finality. The cool air brushed against Boruto's skin, heightening his vulnerability as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. Confusion and fear swirled within him, leaving him desperate for answers in this disorienting moment.
He was caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, the sharp prick of the needle sending a jolt of panic through him. He instinctively tried to pull away from the injection, his heart racing as he struggled against the restraints. "W-What are you doing? Why are you stripping my clothes and injecting me?" Boruto inquired, his voice trembling with fear and confusion.
His eyes darted around the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of understanding or help, but all he found was the cold, unyielding gaze of the man before him. The reality of his situation began to sink in, and dread pooled in his stomach. Each question felt like a desperate plea for clarity, but the man remained silent, focused on his task with an unsettling calmness that only heightened Boruto's anxiety. The air felt thick with tension, and he could feel the weight of vulnerability pressing down on him as he grappled with the uncertainty of what was to come.