Chapter Text
Fool - a dish made of fruit, scalded or stewed, crushed and mixed with cream or the like
Sasuke stares down at the dish in front of him. It’s yogurt, he thinks, but he knows better than to just straight out ask what it is. Sakura gets very affronted when she thinks her cooking skills are being called into question and it isn’t worth being kicked onto the couch for the small amount of time he’s back in Konoha.
Instead, he asks, “What’s the occasion?”
Sakura smiles at him, green eyes sparkling. “What, I can’t just want to be happy that my husband is actually home for longer than the night?”
“Point,” he acknowledges, hiding the wince. He knows that she knows why he can’t stay in the village for long. He feels trapped if he stays for more than a few days, pinned in place by memories and feelings that he still can’t shake after a decade. Naruto doesn’t understand, tries to get him to stay with Sakura and him, to have Team Seven the way it used to be according to his rose-tinted glasses.
Sakura, bless her, just sends him off with a kiss and a smile.
His wife grasps his hand gently. “I’m joking, Sasuke,” she reassures him. “This was just a new recipe I wanted to try. That restaurant down by Yakiniku Q, the one run by those retired Suna nin? They have it on the menu and I tried some. Liked it so much that I begged and begged for the recipe, even.”
He lets out a silent breath of relief. He’s safe to ask, “So what’s it called?”
“Fool.”
Sasuke blinks.
“What?”
“Fool.”
He thinks back through every interaction they’ve had since he returned home and, nope, he can’t think of anything that happened that would have her insulting him. True, she usually goes for more… colorful metaphors, but simple words work just as well.
“Sakura, I know I’m not a genius, but I’ve never seen this before,” he says, confused. “There’s no need to be insulting.”
Her eyes widen. Then she laughs, long and hard, leaving him even more puzzled than before.
“I’m sorry, Sasuke!” she gasps out. “I wasn’t calling you a fool, I promise! This dish is called ‘fool.’ It’s basically yogurt with fruit, sugar, and cream.” The laugh dies down to occasional giggles as she starts eating.
Sasuke can feel the burn of a blush on his cheeks and applies himself to his food to hide his embarrassment, not looking away from the bowl to hide the telling red. It’s good, if a bit sweet for his taste, and he finishes it in rapid order. He fiddles with the spoon, staring at the whorls of the grain in the wood table when she swipes his bowl from under his nose.
A hand on his face tilts his head up. “Welcome home, Sasuke,” she murmurs, and he’s happy to discover that the fool tastes even better when it’s on her lips.