Foreshadowing?

Don't worry, this story, will probably be worth your time...if I do it right...

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Far above the clouds, beyond the atmosphere of the Earth, on the surface of the moon itself, an ominous presence lingered. The once-guardian of the planet, Toneri Otsutsuki, stood frozen, encased in shimmering crystal.

His body was immobilized, but his consciousness remained sharp, fully aware of what was unfolding before him. His once-vibrant blue eyes, glowing with the power of the Tenseigan, were now wide open, helpless, as he watched the scene unfold.

"Hah... Hah..." Heavy, labored breaths echoed through the cold lunar air. Kinshiki Otsutsuki, massive and muscular, struggled to catch his breath, sweat trickling down his face. The battle had taken its toll on him.

"Oh? Tired already, Kinshiki?" came the mocking voice of Momoshiki Otsutsuki. He stood several feet away, his posture relaxed, hands in his robe, a smirk playing on his lips. His tone was taunting, dripping with amusement, but there was no genuine concern for his companion's well-being. To Momoshiki, everything was a game—a test of superiority.

Kinshiki gritted his teeth, opening his mouth to speak, but Momoshiki cut him off. "Stop. Don't say anything. That fight was pathetic." His crimson eyes gleamed with disdain as they shifted to the crystalized form of Toneri. "You were about to lose to a traitor?"

Toneri's dazzling blue eyes stared back at Momoshiki, though they were locked in place. The vibrant light of his Tenseigan seemed to still captivate Momoshiki's curiosity. He stepped closer to the imprisoned figure, his head tilting slightly as he studied the eyes.

"What are those eyes, anyway? Certainly not Byakugan." Momoshiki's voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with intrigue. The allure of Toneri's unique power danced on the edges of his thoughts, but only for a moment. He quickly pulled himself away from the distraction. Focus. We have a mission.

He turned back toward the planet below, his smirk fading into a cold, calculating expression. "We have a job to do. I can't sense Isshiki's presence. Nor that waste, Kaguya. It seems we're on our own." His gaze hardened as he stared down at Earth. "Come, Kinshiki. We have a hunt to complete."

Kinshiki straightened up, his exhaustion masked by his loyalty. With a single glance at Toneri, Kinshiki followed Momoshiki's lead. Together, they rose into the air, the moon's surface shrinking beneath them as they flew toward the blue and green planet that hung in the void like a fragile gem.

Momoshiki's thoughts were already racing. Isshiki failed to harvest this planet's chakra... but I won't. His lips curled into a sinister smile. But first, he needed to find Isshiki's Ten-Tails—the key to absorbing the planet's vast chakra reserves.

As they descended toward Earth, Toneri's trapped figure remained motionless, his blue eyes shining with silent regret. I'm sorry, Naruto... I failed you... The words echoed in his mind, muffled beneath the crystal that held him. He had sworn to protect this world, and now he could do nothing but watch as new threats moved closer.

Earth – Back in Konoha

Meanwhile, back on Earth, the atmosphere couldn't have been more different. The warm afternoon sun bathed Konoha in a golden glow as Boruto sat in his backyard, sprawled on the grass with a scroll unrolled in front of him. His face was scrunched up in concentration, though he didn't quite understand the content. The scroll was covered in diagrams and instructions about chakra nature manipulation—something he should have mastered long ago.

Across from him, Himawari sat happily eating ice cream, watching her older brother with curious eyes. The cheerful clinking of her spoon against the bowl was the only sound breaking the peaceful quiet.

"Brother, what are you doing?" she asked innocently, her voice light and sweet.

Boruto looked up from the scroll, scratching his head. "It's a super secret scroll!" he announced, puffing his chest out slightly before deflating a little. "Well, not really. It's about chakra natures and stuff, but it's all nonsense. I can't get any of this."

Himawari tilted her head, blinking as she scooted closer to take a look. Her eyes scanned the scroll, and after a brief moment, she said, "...Wasn't this part of your work in the Academy, brother?"

Boruto froze, remembering the assignment. He had completely avoided doing it at the time—actually, he had tricked Mitsuki into finishing it for him. His mind raced for an excuse.

"Of course I did it!" he blurted out, forcing a grin. "I was just, uh... making sure you could learn this stuff early. Yeah, that's it!" His voice sounded a bit too eager, but he hoped Himawari wouldn't notice.

Himawari's wide-eyed innocence remained unshaken, and she smiled brightly. "Oh... okay, big bro!" She cheerfully sat down next to him, her ice cream now forgotten as she began to read the scroll with interest.

Boruto leaned back on his hands, sighing in relief. That was close. He watched as his sister flipped through the scroll's pages, her little fingers tracing the words with ease. Part of him felt proud—Himawari always picked things up so quickly—but another part of him felt a pang of guilt. I really should know this stuff...

His thoughts wandered briefly, drifting back to Arsene and their sparring match. That guy... he's out there training, getting stronger. Boruto's eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about the gap in their abilities. I can't afford to slack off anymore.

As Himawari quietly studied beside him, Boruto's mind shifted back to his own training, thinking about what he could do to catch up—to surpass Arsene, and maybe even his father. But for now, the moment felt peaceful, and he allowed himself to enjoy the simplicity of his sister's company.

...

A few days had passed since Arsene's sparring match with Boruto, and he now found himself standing outside the Academy once again, a place he'd grown to loathe for its simplicity and routine. The midday sun bore down on the training grounds, casting long shadows across the field where Arsene stood in quiet frustration. Why did I agree to this? he thought, his hands loosely hanging at his sides. He stared blankly ahead, his disinterest palpable as the wind tugged at his clothes.

Nearby, Aburame Shino, the instructor in charge, was shuffling through papers on his clipboard, oblivious to Arsene's growing impatience. The man's voice broke the silence, its usual monotone making Arsene's mind wander elsewhere.

"Alright! We're ready for you, Arsene," Shino announced, clearly trying to inject some enthusiasm into the otherwise dull process.

Arsene rolled his eyes. Ready for what? This is a waste of time. Without waiting for further instruction, he clasped his hands together with a slow, deliberate motion. Let's just get this over with.

In a swift display of precision, Arsene conjured three identical clones of himself, each one appearing seamlessly next to him. The clones dispersed just as quickly as Arsene replaced himself with a nearby log in the blink of an eye, demonstrating his mastery of the Substitution Jutsu. Not content with just that, he raised his hand toward the sky and exhaled deeply, unleashing a massive Fireball Jutsu that burned its way toward the heavens, dissipating harmlessly far above.

The sheer efficiency of his movements—the flawless execution—left Shino momentarily speechless. The instructor blinked several times, clearly caught off guard. "Oh... right, um, well..." Shino fumbled with his clipboard. "That was... Shadow Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, and Fireball Jutsu..." He rattled off the names of the techniques with mechanical precision before gathering himself. "I hereby pass you. You'll be assigned a teacher in a few days, but for now, your—"

Before Shino could finish, Arsene had already swiped his black headband off the table and turned on his heel. The conversation was over as far as he was concerned.

Black… my favorite. Arsene glanced at the headband in his hand before casually slipping it into his pocket. He had no intention of wearing it. In his mind, it was nothing more than a tool, a backup mask he could use if necessary. He preferred to keep his face obscured from the world, and the headband, with its dark fabric, would serve that purpose well enough if needed.

Just as he was about to disappear from the Academy grounds, Arsene's ears twitched at the sound of an irritatingly familiar voice.

"Hey! Arsene!" The voice was soft, yet annoyingly persistent—one that Arsene had come to despise over the years.

Can't you die already? he thought with grim sarcasm as he turned to face the source of his irritation. Kakei Sumire, with her signature purple hair swaying gently in the breeze, approached with a cheery smile. She had always been an optimist—one of those types who believed in the goodness of others, no matter how much the world seemed to contradict her.

"Ouch! How rude!" Sumire gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest as if wounded by his words. Her smile, however, remained intact, the fake hurt dissolving in seconds. "But I'm glad to see you're still as lonely as always!"

Arsene's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her for a moment. She had been the Class President during their Academy days—a fact that irritated him to no end. Even though he had purposely distanced himself from others, somehow Sumire always found a way to insert herself into his space, her energy clashing violently with his disdain for social pleasantries. She's like a fly buzzing in my ear, he thought bitterly. Maybe it's time to swat her.

"And I'm glad to see you're still a pain," Arsene replied coldly, his voice laced with just enough venom to let her know her presence wasn't welcome. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked away, his steps deliberately slow but steady. He hoped the message was clear: this conversation was over.

But Sumire, stubborn as ever, followed him. "Ah, wait!" she called, trotting up beside him and fixing her hair as she caught up. "I didn't mean to bother you without reason."

Arsene kept walking, his eyes straight ahead. "No one ever does," he muttered, hopping effortlessly over a nearby fence that blocked his path. He barely broke stride, his disinterest in Sumire's words growing with each passing second. "Now go home. You've already passed. There's nothing left for you here."

But Sumire was undeterred. She quickly scaled the fence after him, her voice light and upbeat despite his obvious attempts to brush her off. "Well, I actually need your help," she admitted, catching up to him once again. "You're a guy, and... well, the only guy I know who isn't friends with Boruto."

Arsene shot her a sideways glance, his interest piqued for a moment. Boruto? Why would she bring him up? He slowed his pace slightly, just enough to signal that he was willing to listen.

"And? Do you want to beat him up or something?" Arsene asked, his voice as flat as ever, but there was a faint glimmer of curiosity beneath the monotone. The idea of a fight intrigued him more than he'd care to admit.

"No! No, that's not it at all..." Sumire stammered, her face quickly flushing pink. Her fingers nervously played with a strand of her purple hair as she spoke, each word more hesitant than the last. "I... have a..."

Arsene stopped walking and turned to face her, his eyes narrowing slightly. Spit it out already.

"I have a crush on Boruto!" Sumire finally blurted out, her cheeks now fully flushed. She immediately covered her face with her hands, as if trying to hide her embarrassment.

For a long moment, Arsene said nothing. The silence stretched between them, the wind carrying with it the faint sounds of the village in the distance. Sumire peeked through her fingers, expecting some kind of reaction—surprise, shock, maybe even disbelief. But when she looked up, all she found was Arsene's cold, indifferent gaze.

"...You're not surprised?" Sumire asked, her voice tinged with confusion. She had expected something—anything—but Arsene's emotionless face gave nothing away.

"Whether you want to crush Boruto or not, I don't care," Arsene replied flatly, resuming his walk as if the conversation had never happened.

Sumire groaned internally. Of course, he doesn't care. Arsene was never one to show interest in anything remotely emotional or personal. He rarely even showed up to class back in the day, and when he did, he sat alone, completely detached from everyone else. She had no idea why she even thought he might be helpful.

"Basically," she continued, determined not to give up, "I need to know what he likes. You're a guy, so you should know what guys prefer, right?"

Arsene didn't slow his pace as they moved deeper into the forest. "Did you try asking him?"

"Of course not!" Sumire exclaimed, her tone becoming more flustered. "Unlike the unfeeling brick you are, some of us can notice hints... I think." She paused, reflecting on the fact that Boruto was, in fact, remarkably dense when it came to these things. He had probably missed every subtle sign she'd ever sent his way.

Arsene grunted in acknowledgment but said nothing, his mind already wandering elsewhere. He scanned the area as they walked, his eyes honing in on the signs of wildlife. Forgot to buy meat today... Looks like hunting's my next option.

He spotted a boar in the distance, its movements slow and unaware of its impending fate. Arsene's focus sharpened, but before he made his move, he cast another glance at Sumire, who was still nervously walking beside him.

"Have you tried beating him?" Arsene asked, his tone disturbingly casual. "That way, you can do whatever you want with him." He recalled seeing Sarada hit Boruto on more than one occasion. "I saw the black-haired one do that."

Sumire's mind spun for a moment. Black-haired one? Sarada... Uchiha? The thought of Sarada's frequent jabs at Boruto came rushing back. Wait... Was Boruto actually enjoying that? Her cheeks turned pink again, the idea both mortifying and oddly plausible.

"Wait, are you saying Boruto likes getting hit?" she asked, her voice incredulous but filled with curiosity.

"Probably," Arsene replied nonchalantly as he crouched low, his eyes trained on the boar. "I wouldn't let someone hit me unless I liked it." His words came out as though they were the most natural thing in the world, a twisted philosophy that seemed to align perfectly with his warped view of the world.

Sumire blinked, trying to process what he had just said. Is that really how guys think? She knew Arsene was far from normal, but still, the way he said it made her wonder. Could Boruto really be the kind of guy who... likes that? She quickly shook her head, trying to dismiss the bizarre idea, but it lingered in the back of her mind, mixing with her insecurities about Sarada.

"Alright! Thanks for your help, I've got the perfect plan!" Sumire said suddenly, a newfound determination sparking in her eyes. Without waiting for Arsene's response, she dashed off, her earlier embarrassment replaced with confidence.

Arsene didn't bother watching her leave. His attention was already locked on the boar. With a swift, fluid motion, he lunged forward, stabbing the animal through the heart with brutal efficiency. Blood splattered across the ground as the boar let out a final grunt, collapsing into the dirt beneath Arsene's feet.

Standing over the lifeless body, Arsene stared down at the animal, his expression unchanged. He wiped the blood from his hand and crouched down, inspecting the boar's size. "Hmm... broiled? Steamed? Baked?" he muttered to himself, his mind already wandering to his next meal as he hefted the carcass onto his shoulder.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the forest, Arsene made his way back to his house, his thoughts drifting between training, strength, and tonight's dinner. 

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[Auther: Yo! It's been mostly words and stuff but man...to think I could put this much yap in a chapter? I'm improving!]