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Sasuke hears an awful retching sound coming from the bathroom down the hall. It wakes him from his sleep. His eyes shoot open. He checks the spot in bed next to him. Sakura is still by his side, which means… Sarada is sick.
“Sakura. Sakura.” He shakes his wife awake.
“Mmm. What Sasuke?” she sits up, still half asleep.
“I think Sarada is sick. I just heard her throw up.”
“Mkay.” Sakura lies back down.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” He’s really concerned about his wife’s nonchalant attitude over their daughter’s condition.
“It’s the middle of the night, Sasuke. The best thing we can do is let her go back to sleep and get some rest.”
Sasuke listens hard. He hears the sink turn on then off again. Then he hears a door close, followed by another door closing a few minutes later. Sarada was going back to sleep.
He barely sleeps, he keeps having nightmares about Sarada’s condition. He worries about her overheating, or maybe she’s too cold. In his nightmares she calls out to him for help. “Papa, I don’t feel good.”
He gets out of bed at mornings light and goes into the kitchen. He pulls out all of the ingredients he’ll need: dashi, miso paste, scallions, and tofu cubes. He fills a pot with water and puts it on the stove. He waits for it to heat up before adding the dashi. He boils the mixture then he adds the miso paste and tofu. He reduces the heat while he chops the scallions.
“Sasuke, what are you doing up so early in the morning?” Sakura comes into the kitchen half asleep.
“I’m making miso soup. It will help Sarada get better.” He says, adding the scallions to the soup.
Sakura points to herself. “You married the head of the Leaf Village Hospital, remember?”
Sasuke freezes. It dawns on him that Sakura not only spent the past twelve years taking care of Sarada, but the entire village, she probably knew what was best. Maybe he shouldn’t be cooking soup at 6:00 a.m. but… “My mom used to make me this soup when I was sick.”
Sakura’s face softens. “Oh, then it must be good. You’ll have to put it on the backburner though, I guarantee you Sarada won’t be up until at least ten if she’s not feeling well.”
Sasuke takes her advice.
Sakura sits on their couch and pats the spot next to her for Sasuke to join.
“What is she like when she’s sick?” asks Sasuke, wrapping an arm around his wife.
Sakura lays her head on his shoulder and thinks about it. “She’s a good patient, drinks lots of water, eats when I tell her to, gets lots of rest, takes her medicine on time.”
“Things have changed.” Says Sasuke. His eyes fix on a picture of two-year old Sarada blowing out the candles on her cake.
Sakura finds the spot he’s looking at. She realizes the last time Sasuke saw Sarada sick was when she was a toddler.
Little Sarada was practically inconsolable. She cried every time she threw up, she cried because she was nauseous, she cried because her head hurt, she was in so much pain and she didn’t know why.
Every time they tried to give her medicine she’d bat it away with her hands, or she’d spit it out. It tasted foul, the purpose was to avoid accidental poisonings by deterring children from drinking it when they weren’t sick, but the taste wasn’t exactly easy on the stomach when a child actually was sick either. Sarada didn’t know it would help her get better.
Sakura was tasked with trying to comfort a wailing Sarada while trying to treat her symptoms.
She remembered Sasuke taking Sarada from her arms, telling her it was his turn to try something. He carried Sarada into the kitchen and put her in her high chair. She’s clutching a stuffed dragon. Normally, they have a ‘no toys at the table’ rule, since Sarada would either ignore her meal or get the toy dirty. Sasuke decided to let that rule slide, since the toy clearly gave her comfort. He placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of her.
“NO!” Sarada wailed.
“It’s not medicine.” Sasuke said, trying to reason with the stubborn little girl. “See,” he took a spoonful and put it in his mouth. “Yum.” He said trying his best to sound enthusiastic.
Sarada stopped wailing but still looked suspicious.
“Here comes the sailboat.” Sasuke said waving the spoon around.
Sarada opened at the magic words. She swallowed the soup, delighted to find it was not medicine. She opened her mouth for more.
Sakura watched the whole thing, after Sarada was fed she finally settled down and went to sleep. The next morning her fever went down slightly and she wasn’t wailing anymore.
“Our little girl is growing up.” Sakura says, confirming what Sasuke said earlier. “It’s probably best we put the soup away for now. She won’t be up for another few hours.”
“If you say so, doctor.” Sasuke nods. He gets up and puts the soup into a Tupperware and puts it into the refrigerator.
Sasuke and Sakura go back to bed. A few hours later she wakes him and tells him she’s going to check on Sarada.
Sasuke goes to the kitchen to heat up the soup. He can hear voices down the hall, confirming that Sarada is awake.
He puts the soup in a bowl at Sarada’s place at the table.
He walks down the hall to check on her while it cools.
“Thirty-seven point seven degrees. Looks like you’re staying home today.”
“Yes, Mama.” Sarada knows better than to fight with her mama about healthcare.
“Are you hungry?” asks Sasuke. He notices she’s got all of her stuffed animals around her, she’s clutching the stuffed dragon in her arms. It looks so small, it looked so big when Sarada was a little girl.
“Not really, Papa.” Sarada says weakly.
“I made miso soup.”
Sarada gets out of bed. She can’t remember the last time her papa cooked for her, she’s not sure if he ever has. “I should probably eat something though.”
Sarada walks into the kitchen and sits down in front of the bowl of soup. She slowly dips her spoon in and puts it to her lips.
Once the spoon is in her mouth, her eyes light up. She knows this soup. She’s had it before, but she can’t remember when, maybe it was in a dream? She slurps down the rest of the soup eagerly. She feels a lot better, she can tell she’ll be able to keep this meal down.
“Thank you Papa!” Her smile warms the coldest places in Sasuke’s heart.
He thinks about all of the time he’s missed. She went from a little girl who hated taking her medicine, to the perfect little patient. One thing stayed the same, he could still make her feel better with a simple bowl of soup, just like his mother did for him when he was a boy.