#borushiki

BORUSHIKI VS BORO

I cannot begin to tell how much fun I had writing this.

The boy was dreaming again.

It was a fact Momoshiki had taken a lot of time to process. Addressing his vessel was one thing but thinking of it that way in his own mind was another. Thinking of it as a him.

A snake of fear, scales chilling and paralyzing, crept up Momoshiki's spine.

It couldn't be helped, he told himself. The boy was too willful, too headstrong to be thought of merely as a vessel. He had earned himself the privilege to be considered a person.

The snake bit, and Momoshiki quickly moved away, trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid a wave of childish panic. He sighed, shifting uncomfortably.

As mortifying as it was, he found it easier to sleep when Boruto slept and dream along with him.

That way he was only dimly aware that there was something wrong with his thoughts, and the boy never asked questions, as if pretending their minds hadn't temporarily blended together would somehow make it less real.

Not that Momoshiki was particularly thrilled by the idea, but it was still better than having foreign feelings and sensations forced upon him.

In all honesty, it had taken him by surprise to learn that dreams felt so much more intense than the child's conscious emotions.

Then again, Momoshiki mused idly, he's always up and about. There was always a mission, a duty to be fulfilled. In dreams, though, he was allowed to let go. To relive all his horrors in their true glory.

Momoshiki would have loved it, if it weren't for the throbbing, guilt-soaked pain in his chest for what happened to that meddlesome Uchiha man. He leaned sideways, glimpsing into Boruto's dream.

Oh, lovely. The Uchiha was currently drowning in his own blood, struggling for air that would never come, his body covered in gaping wounds.

My, the boy had such gruesome imagination. Momoshiki privately joked that perhaps he ought to take a note occasionally.

Well. As long as they weren't dreaming about the daughter, he reassured himself as tears that weren't his prickled his eyes. How humiliating.

He used to wake the boy in the middle of a nightmare and shout at him but eventually realized it was more trouble than merit.

Boruto would either forget the nightmare by morning or push it out of his mind in favor of his daily tasks but would spend ages replaying it over and over in their head if woken in the middle.

Momoshiki sighed again. Is he dead yet? he wondered wearily, craning to see.

Almost there. Come on, Uchiha, lesser men have died before you. Cut the moving speeches, we've heard them all already. See, that was why Momoshiki preferred Naruto Uzumaki in the boy's dreams.

The fool never had anything to say; he just dramatically disappeared, got swallowed by lethal darkness, and was generally absent.

But if this idiot kept holding his own eulogy, they were going to slip into a dream about the Uchiha brat, and if Momoshiki had to suffer through another - oh, bloody hell. He could already feel Uchiha Sarada's arms around his torso.

He waited until the boy's mind quieted and, before the dream could get any further, he jerked. Boruto fell out of bed with a yelp. Momoshiki hastily withdrew, ready to play the big bad God.

There was no need, though. The boy rubbed his eyes and slipped back under the covers, blissfully oblivious that either of the Uchiha had been plaguing his dreams tonight. Hopefully, they'd all get some rest now.

Momoshiki: I never thought i would become an uchiha

Boruto: What are you talking about? i'm the one who married Sarada

Momoshiki: That's why