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Sasuke walked over to the big tree in the backyard, the warmth of the sunlight vanishing as he walked into the huge shadow thrown by the old gnarled thing. He stopped silently at the wide base of the trunk and stared up at the dense canopy above him, the faint rustling of the leaves interrupted by the deafening silence in the area just above his head.
He stared up at the still branches.
The silence became thick and heavy with apprehension.
“You know,” he started, his tone light and neutral, “it would be less suspicious if you just let the branches move with the wind. You’re creating a patch of quiet and still in an instance where it’s out of place. It creates dissonance where there should be none. Even a civilian could find you without any effort.”
Dead silence. Although now, Sasuke noted wryly, it gave off the impression of being both angry and deeply offended.
Sasuke waited for a moment and then with a faint sigh, he sat himself down at the base of the tree in between its huge roots; back straight, legs crossed, hands on his knees, his eyes closed. They passed an hour that way, waiting each other out. Sasuke was breathing in the rare breeze, crisp hints of autumn drifting on the air, when a sullen little voice crept down to him from the eaves of the tree.
“Why aren’t you scolding me?”
Sasuke tilted his head, the only indication that he had heard the voice.
“Why do you think I would scold you?”
A rustle.
“Because…I yelled at Pa. I yelled at you, and I ran off. I…”
I hit him, rang unspoken through the gentle spring air, sharp and heavy. Sasuke waited for it to settle and then tilted his head back, seeing nothing but faint shades of colour and hints of movement, but knowing that a pair of angry little black eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, were staring back down at him.
“Your father knows what it’s like to lose your temper. He forgave you long before the thought of hitting him even occurred to you. And I, of all people, know how important it is to have the time to think about your mistakes.” The corner of Sasuke’s mouth twitched up the tiniest bit. His voice breaking its neutral tones and becoming soft as he thought of their house where he knew his husband, who he had had to threaten with a month of sleeping in separate beds to keep him from rushing out here, was now watching anxiously from their bedroom window. The twitch turned into a genuine smile, unnoticeable to those who didn’t know him. He closed his eyes as the wind rustled his bangs.
“The important thing is that you always come home.”
The quiet atmosphere returned, though it wasn’t as suffocating as before. They stayed like that for another half hour, until the sun started to dip below the clouds. Sasuke imagined what they might look like this time of year; whorls of oranges and pinks on a faded blue canvas. Finally the silence was broken by a scrappy little five-year-old boy making his clumsy way down the tree, stumbling forward as soon as his feet touched ground and clambered up into Sasuke’s lap. Sasuke lent back into the rough trunk of the tree, his hand coming up to card through the little boy’s messy black hair as grubby fists clenched into his shirtfront, a warm face burying into the crook of his neck. Sasuke hummed soothingly when he felt dampness on the skin where his son’s face was pressed, rocking them back and forth slowly as the first few sobs started wracking the little body.
In an instant Naruto was there, tears forming in his own eyes when he saw the boy curled up in Sasuke's lap.
“Menma, Menma shhh, shh baby it's okay, c’mere buddy it’s okay-“
Naruto scooped the boy up in his arm, Menma coming easily, his round face a scrunched, snotty mess. Naruto, not much better than Menma, pulled him tight to his chest, hunching over him in an effort to envelope as much of his son as possible. Sasuke could see it in his mind's eye: Menma pressed as close as he was able to his father's chest, with his hand curled around Naruto’s old stump, a habit carried over from when he was a baby and Naruto was the only one that could get him to stop crying. Muffled apologies were moaned wetly and unintelligibly into Naruto’s shirt, while assurances were noisily kissed into Menma’s hair and all over his face.
They stayed like that until the sun had set, the stars came out, and the moon shined brightly overhead. Sasuke felt contentment reach up into his chest and grasp his heart tightly in its fist as he felt the warmth of his husband leaned into his shoulder, their son now asleep in Naruto’s lap, with one fist clenched tightly into the fabric of Naruto’s collar, and the other holding just as tightly onto Sasuke’s empty sleeve.
Sasuke closed his eyes.
Yes, the important thing was that you always came home.
Whether that be to a place,
Or to a person.
End