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The cheerful notes of Christmas carols rose through the night, wrapping themselves around the swirling snowflakes that lazily fell from the sky, sprinkling Konohagakure of an elegant white coat.
Spots of color twinkled upon its eery surface, reflections of the scintillating tinsels that hanged above their heads and on every store front they passed by.
Christmas Eve was in full swing, the village population having come out to enjoy the fireworks after a joyous night of drinking and dining with their loved ones.
Sakura’s fingers tightened around the hot cocoa in her hands as they leisured through the bustled streets, scooting closer to her husband while she sought the warmth of his embrace.
Unsurprisingly, Sasuke immediately tensed against her, his one good eye darting worriedly around them.
Sakura pulled on his arm, drawing his attention away from the passersby and back to her, grounding his gaze within her own.
It’s alright, she communicated silently.
Sasuke hesitated, before awkwardly opening his arm to her.
Sakura lost no time in snuggling there, the delight causing a familiar heat in her cheeks. She buried her face into his coat, greedily inhaling his earthly scent while her fingers tightened imperceptibly around his sweater, hardly believing that this was indeed real.
Her husband was home for Christmas for the very first time in thirteen years, and Sakura might have cried a little at the thought if she hadn’t been working so hard on curbing her emotions.
“Papa! Mama!”
Sakura’s eyes drifted toward the voice as Sarada’s bundled up silhouette bounced back toward them, leaving behind her a bickering Uzumaki family.
Their friends had trailed further up the street, too caught up in their own excitement to notice Sakura and Sasuke had discreetly fallen behind, eager to enjoy the quiet peacefulness of their very own intimacy.
Sarada jumped to a stop in front of them, feet crunching into an immaculate layer of snow, a huge grin on her face.
Sakura couldn’t remember a time when she had seen her daughter so happy, and her heart tightened painfully inside her chest.
This. This was everything little Sakura-chan had ever dreamed of.
A tear pooled at the corner of her eye, and Sakura quickly wiped it away before either of them noticed. The light squeeze of Sasuke’s fingers around her arm told her it had been no use, though. He could tell.
Sakura silently cursed her husband’s overly perceptive skills and how attuned he was to her emotions, all while her heart thrummed happily at the thought.
Sarada cocked her head, looking at them sheepishly while a soft blush sprawled under her glasses, matching the crimson beanie cradling her head. She swayed on her feet, hands clasped behind her back.
“What is it, Sarada?” Sakura asked suspiciously.
She knew her daughter like the back of her hand and could tell Sarada wanted something, though she held back, either intimidated by her father’s presence or by whatever it was she was up to.
Thankfully, unlike her father, Sarada was never one to stay stuck inside her shell for too long, only ever needing the slightest nudge to come out and say what was on her mind.
She glanced at her father, teeth nibbling nervously on her lower lip.
“Papa,” she asked shyly, “can I sit on your shoulders to watch the fireworks?”
Sakura looked up to her husband just in time to see Sasuke’s eye widen at their daughter’s request, the utter confusion on his face so endearing she had to repress a giggle.
“Aren’t you a little old for that?” he replied with a deadpan.
Sarada’s face fell, and Sakura discreetly elbowed him between the ribs, pushing a little chakra into the gesture.
Sasuke started, clearing his throat.
“I mean, yes, sure.”
Sarada’s face lit up anew as he crouched down, and she pounced onto his back, climbing over his shoulders until she was firmly seated, holding on to the top of his hair.
Sasuke rose from the ground, hand clasped onto her thigh, and Sakura reveled in the picture they made, her heart so full she feared it might burst from the overwhelming amount of love she felt for her family.
A countdown resonated in the distance, signaling midnight’s approach as the world seemingly froze around them, the many pedestrians strolling through the street bunching together and coming to a stop to look expectantly at the night sky.
Sarada cleared her throat pointedly, drawing her parents’ attention, and Sakura tilted her head to see a thin sprig of mistletoe dangling between her and Sasuke.
“Hehehe,” Sarada laughed impishly, obviously proud of herself.
Sakura’s cheeks heated at the implied suggestion, and she repressed the urge to shake her head at her daughter’s antics. But as much as she wanted it, she didn’t dare look at Sasuke then, already squashing the tiny hint of disappointment in her heart, knowing such public display of affection was very unlikely coming from her overly discreet husband.
The numbers were dragging to a close, echoed around them by the villagers’ excited voices, and as expected, Sasuke wasn’t making a move.
Just as she was about to completely forfeit the idea of a Christmas kiss, Sasuke’s hand closed around hers, and Sakura perked up, full of hardly restrained hope.
She barely had time to register the closed-off look on her husband’s face before the air whooshed out of her lungs, the landscape around her blurring into a swirl of leaves. A second later and she was standing on top of the Hokage Mountain, staring down at the sparkling village laying at their feet.
Before she had the chance to catch her breath, Sasuke’s hand curled around her jaw and he bent down. Their lips met in a chaste, tingling kiss, right as the countdown reached its end, fireworks exploding both in her heart and above their heads.
Sakura leaned into his mouth, humming pleasantly against him before Sarada’s happy clapping brought them back to reality.
Sasuke drew back, clearing his throat awkwardly as he averted his gaze, but Sakura didn’t miss the softened lines around his eye.
She shared a knowing look with her daughter before curling comfortably against her husband’s tall form, admiring the bright explosions in front of her as they shattered into a thousand colorful sparks, heart full on the knowledge that everything she had ever dreamed of was finally at the tip of her fingers.
“Merry Christmas, anata,” she whispered in his chest.
Sasuke’s arm tightened around her, drawing her even closer as he tucked her head under his chin.
“Merry Christmas, Sakura,” he said softly.
“AND MERRY CHRISTMAS, UCHIHAS!” Sarada yelled above them, sending the mistletoe flying into the air.