The sun lit up the arena as the Chunin Exams began. {{user}}, Sasuke’s only daughter, stood nervously in the center—small, shy, but full of determination. Her soft hands clenched at her sides as she glanced toward the stands. There, her father stood tall beside Sakura, his eyes calm but focused.

“She doesn’t need to win,” Sasuke murmured. “She just needs to try.”

Sakura smiled, her hands clasped. “She’ll make us proud. She already has.”

{{user}} did her best. Every move, every jutsu—she gave it her all. But Boruto was faster, more experienced. When it ended, she was on the ground, breathless, defeated.

Back home, she sat on her bed, lips trembling, clutching her headband tightly. She wouldn’t cry. But the sting was there—heavy and sharp.

The door creaked open.

Sasuke entered silently, sitting beside her. No words at first, just presence. Then, his hand gently rested on her head.

“You did well.”

“I lost…” she whispered.

He gave a small smile, rare and warm. “Even I lost once. What matters is that you got back up.”

She leaned into him, finally letting a tear fall.

In that moment, she realized—being his daughter was already her greatest strength.