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He opens the door to see an unexpected but not at all unwelcome sight. Sakura is at his doorstep, with her sleeping daughter cradled in her arms. His surprise leads him to stare for a little longer than is polite, and this does not escape her notice. She laughs at him, softly. He snaps out of his dazedness at the same moment that she asks him, “Are you going to let us in, sensei?”
“Of course.” He steps aside, and ushers them into his living room.
The space is clean and immaculately kept—almost overly so. Sakura knows this is because her old teacher does not spend a lot of time in his own home, being the current head of their village. But Kakashi’s quarters are not totally void of personal touches, and Sakura smiles as she spots each one. There is a copy of their old team photo on a side table, beside the succulent she had gifted him once on a whim. There is worn bean bag, bright orange, that he had once won from Naruto in a bet. And in one nook, there is a corner of a shelf for all of Jiraiya-san’s books, with The Tales of the Gutsy Ninja being the one most prominently displayed.
She sits herself down on Kakashi’s couch, as he stands a little stiffly before her. He clears his throat. “So, tea?”
She smiles and nods her assent, and he sets off to his kitchen to make it. Same old sensei, she thinks, as she watches his retreating back. She has never resented it, this air of awkwardness he always had around her. It’s honestly endearing. Not unlike a father who has been distant, but is now learning how to navigate affection. The thought makes her feel warm inside, and she nuzzles Sarada’s cheek as she continues to muse. You’ve got yourself a wonderful family, little one. We are both so lucky.
After a while he comes back, and sets a cup of tea before her. It’s jasmine. Her favorite—somehow he has remembered, after all those years. “Thank you, sensei.” She beams at him.
“Would you like me to…?” he trails off, motioning at Sarada.
“Oh! Would it be okay?”
“Of course, Sakura-chan.” His eyes are brimming with undisguised affection, as he gazes at her daughter. “This uncle would love to hold his niece.”
She goes over to him, and gingerly transfers her sleeping child into his waiting arms. Sarada stirs a little, but does not wake. For a moment they are both transfixed—by the solid warmth of her, the reality of her. What she stands for, now.
It’s Kakashi who breaks the spell, when he whispers, “She’s beautiful.”
“She is,” Sakura agrees. They both sit, and Sakura wraps her hands around her cup of tea.
His voice is pitched low, and hushed as he tells her, “You did well. You and Sasuke, both.”
“We have you to thank for it, sensei.” She firmly meets his gaze, wills him to believe. “Thank you.”
“I-” he hesitates, and in his eyes she could plainly read the doubt and all the regrets he still harbors. She opens her mouth to challenge him. But before she could begin to disabuse him of his misguided beliefs about himself, a knock sounds once again at the door. Right on time, she thinks to herself, as Kakashi stands to answer it.
He opens it to see Sasuke and Naruto, both bearing baskets of food and drink. Naruto is grinning widely, and Sasuke is smirking. Being thoroughly surprised, Kakashi also fails to notice that Sakura has followed him, and is right at his heels.
"Happy birthday, sensei,” they chorus.
"You guys,” he breathes out, overcome. Tears almost spring into his eyes as he looks at his old team. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”