The inheritance of greatness is as much a burden as it is a blessing. This is true in politics, in literature, and, as Boruto would have it, in the world of shinobi. To be born the child of a legend is to live under the constant shadow of comparison, a tension as familiar to the sons of presidents as it is to the scions of Hidden Leaf Village. Boruto, Masashi Kishimoto’s successor to Naruto, embodies this dilemma in both narrative and meta-narrative: it is a story about legacy that must itself grapple with its own.
That Kishimoto initially entrusted the writing of Boruto to another before reclaiming it suggests that even its creator recognized the difficulty of continuing a saga that had, by all accounts, concluded satisfactorily. The result is a series that is both a natural extension of Naruto and a deliberate attempt to redefine the ninja world for a new era—one in which the conflicts of old have been replaced by a subtler, but no less dangerous, set of crises.
The Narrative: Evolution or Repetition?
If Naruto was a bildungsroman wrapped in the high-energy spectacle of shōnen combat, Boruto is a postwar drama disguised as an action series. The great wars are over, the era of hidden villages locked in mortal struggle has passed, and the shinobi world is now a more interconnected, technologically advanced civilization. But where peace reigns, new anxieties emerge: the fear of obsolescence, the weight of expectations, and the question of whether the next generation, raised in relative prosperity, can ever match the willpower of their predecessors.
Boruto structures itself around this fundamental tension. Its protagonist, Boruto Uzumaki, is not the underdog his father was. Unlike Naruto, who clawed his way to acknowledgment, Boruto is the son of the Seventh Hokage, born into status and burdened by it. His rebellion is not against an indifferent world but against the suffocating expectations of legacy.
Yet, for all its thematic ambition, Boruto at times struggles under the weight of its own lineage. The conflicts, while engaging, often feel like echoes of Naruto’s grander struggles—villains wielding new forms of power, existential threats to the shinobi way of life, betrayals that reshape allegiances. The series is at its best when it leans into its own themes of generational transition rather than simply iterating on the tropes of its predecessor.
Characterization: The Weight of the Past
Boruto himself is a fascinating study in contrast. Unlike Naruto, who fought for acknowledgment, Boruto resents the consequences of his father’s success. He is neither the scrappy, ambitious hero nor the brooding, tormented antihero; he is, instead, a character defined by his attempt to carve out an identity independent of his famous lineage.
The new generation of shinobi—Sarada Uchiha, Mitsuki, and others—offer a compelling reflection of their legendary parents, but the series at times struggles with their development. Sarada, the daughter of Sasuke and Sakura, inherits her father’s aloof intellect and her mother’s fiery determination, yet she remains underutilized in the overarching narrative. Mitsuki, the enigmatic artificial son of Orochimaru, is among the most intriguing additions, his very existence challenging the notions of nature, nurture, and identity.
The handling of legacy characters—Naruto, Sasuke, and their contemporaries—is one of Boruto’s most contentious aspects. The series does not shy away from showing them as older, wearier figures, struggling with the paradox of preserving the peace they fought for while recognizing that true peace may always be unattainable. But their prominence often overshadows the next generation, making Boruto feel, at times, like an extension of Naruto rather than a truly independent story.
Kishimoto’s Writing: Familiar Strengths and New Challenges
Kishimoto’s return to Boruto was heralded as a course correction, an opportunity to realign the series with the vision of its original creator. His strengths remain evident—his ability to construct layered conflicts, his talent for balancing action with emotional stakes, and his deep understanding of the characters who defined Naruto.
Yet, Boruto presents new challenges. Where Naruto thrived on the clarity of its protagonist’s ambitions, Boruto is inherently more complex. It is a series about transition, about the discomfort of living in a world built by others. This makes for a richer, if less immediately compelling, narrative. The action sequences remain dynamic, but they are now set against a backdrop of political and technological shifts that complicate the once-simple dynamics of shinobi combat.
Themes: Legacy, Modernization, and the Burden of Peace
Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of Boruto is its engagement with modernization. The ninja world of Naruto was one of tradition, where battles were settled with jutsu and the way of the shinobi was the only way. Boruto presents a world where technology has begun to challenge that dominance—where scientific advancements create shortcuts to power, where the concept of ninjutsu itself faces existential threats.
This tension mirrors real-world anxieties about the erosion of tradition in the face of progress. Just as previous generations worry that younger ones lack the discipline and fortitude of their predecessors, Boruto questions whether the new era can ever produce warriors as formidable as those forged in war. It is a rare example of a shōnen series engaging with the concept of postwar malaise—not through overt moralizing, but through the very structure of its world and its conflicts.
Final Verdict: A Worthy Successor or an Inevitable Shadow?
Boruto is, in many ways, a necessary evolution of Naruto—a story that acknowledges the impossibility of simply rehashing the past while still grappling with the legacy it inherits. At its best, it is a thoughtful meditation on generational transition, on the struggle to define oneself outside the expectations imposed by history. At its worst, it succumbs to the very legacy it seeks to escape, relying too often on the echoes of past triumphs rather than forging its own.
For longtime Naruto fans, Boruto offers both nostalgia and frustration—the joy of revisiting a beloved world tempered by the recognition that the magic of the original can never be fully recaptured. For new readers, Boruto presents a compelling, if sometimes uneven, entry into a universe that has defined a generation of storytelling.
In the end, Boruto succeeds not by surpassing Naruto, but by wrestling with the impossibility of doing so. It is a series about legacy that must, inevitably, bear the burden of its own. Whether it ultimately transcends that burden remains to be seen.