Itachi Uchiha's son Shinra Uchiha

The sky was barely blue when Boruto opened his eyes. The cold from the stone beneath him had settled deep into his bones. He sat up slowly, glancing around the clearing, now bathed in a hazy, pale light.

Shinra was already awake, seated on the highest shard of the old stone ring, his eyes closed in meditation. The wind was silent, as if even nature was waiting for something.

Boruto groaned, stretching his stiff limbs. "Do we fight again today, or are you just going to glare me into enlightenment?"

Shinra didn't open his eyes. "Your strength is wasted while your mind is noisy."

Boruto frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shinra stood and dropped a scroll onto the cracked ground before him.

"Open your chakra," he said. "Don't close your eyes. But don't trust them either."

Before Boruto could respond, mist began to roll in—soft at first, then thickening quickly. The clearing was swallowed in a ghostly veil.

"What is this?" Boruto muttered.

Shinra's voice echoed, calm and distant. "You're entering a place where memory, fear, and intent blend. It's not genjutsu. It's a projection. From you."

Boruto blinked. The fog pressed in on all sides.

Then he saw him.

Kawaki.

Standing a few feet away. Arms crossed. Eyes full of disappointment.

"You should've fought harder," the illusion said.

Boruto stepped back. "You're not real."

"No?" Kawaki tilted his head. "Then why does your guilt still feed me?"

Boruto clenched his fists. "You're a trick."

Kawaki vanished.

Sasuke appeared.

But not whole, entwined in roots, his form half-consumed by bark. His eyes were empty.

"You let it happen," he said.

Boruto's breath caught. "Stop it."

"You carried my blade," Sasuke continued. "But you weren't ready."

"Stop—"

"You weren't enough."

Boruto screamed. Lightning flickered around his body. The illusion shattered.

But a new one replaced it.

A boy.

Young. Blonde. Big-eyed.

Boruto's younger self, curled up on the ground, sobbing.

"I didn't want this," the child whispered. "I didn't ask to be hated."

Boruto froze.

His voice shook. "You… that's not who I am anymore."

"But it's still part of you," Shinra's voice came, slicing through the mist.

The younger Boruto dissolved into the fog.

Then silence.

Until a single figure walked out of the mist.

Sarada.

She was breathing hard, eyes wide. "Boruto?" she said. "Please… I don't know where I am—"

Boruto stumbled forward. "Sarada—?"

Shinra's voice rang again. "Strike. Now. Decide what's real."

Boruto froze. "What?"

"If you hesitate, you lose. If you act without certainty, you destroy. Choose."

Sarada looked terrified. "What's going on? Boruto, don't listen to it—"

Boruto raised his hand.

Rasengan swirled to life.

Then stopped.

He let it fade.

"I can't," he said. "Not without knowing." 

The fog broke instantly.

The real clearing returned. Empty.

No Sarada.

Just Shinra, arms folded.

"You failed," he said.

Boruto looked down. "I couldn't risk hurting her."

Shinra stared for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"You didn't hesitate from weakness," he said. "You hesitated from clarity."

Boruto blinked. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"No. One is fear. The other is understanding."

A long pause.

Then Shinra smirked—barely.

"Lesson one... complete."