The door closed.
Kiyomi stared at the blue sky outside the window and suddenly realized something.
She had a future.
At noon, Boruto came by again.
This time, he hadn't brought rice balls. He'd brought a bowl of Ichiraku Ramen.
This time, what he brought wasn't rice balls, but a bowl of Ichiraku Ramen.
"You went all the way out to get this." Boruto set the ramen on the bedside table. "Uncle Teuchi said it's his new recipe and wanted you to try it."
Kiyomi lifted the lid, and a fragrant cloud of steam wafted toward her.
Chashu pork, bamboo shoots, a soft-boiled egg, chopped scallions, and golden noodles all floated in a rich broth.
"It smells wonderful."
"Of course it does." Boruto sat down in a chair. "Ichiraku Ramen is the best in the Leaf. My dad used to eat it every day. He ate it for more than a decade and never got tired of it."
Kiyomi picked up her chopsticks and lifted a strand of noodles.
They were springy, the broth was rich but not greasy, and the chashu melted in her mouth.
"It's delicious."
"Right?" Boruto said with a smug grin. "I knew you'd like it."
Kiyomi ate more than half the bowl in one go, then suddenly stopped.
"Boruto."
"Yeah?"
"I want to ask you something."
"What?"
"Why are you all so kind to me?"
Boruto paused.
"What do you mean, 'why'?"
"I'm a weapon created by the enemy." Kiyomi lowered her gaze to the ramen in her bowl. "There's something dangerous inside me. I could explode at any moment. You should be watching out for me, not..."
"Not what?" Boruto cut her off. "Not bringing you ramen? Not teaching you to read and write? Not treating you like a teammate?"
Kiyomi said nothing.
"Kiyomi."