Chapter Text
"Who are you... are you even my real mom?!"
The words stung. Sakura's hand clenched instinctively, remembering how much she wanted to strike her daughter across the face, buttocks-- whatever part of her body she could reach before she squirmed away. Looking up at the ceiling, Sakura sighed and let her arm lay over her eyes. Slowly, she turned her head to the left, peeking under her arm. He was laying beside her futon, yet was in one of his own. It's better than the couch, she thought to herself. Sasuke often opted for the sofa downstairs rather than share a bed with her. "I'm used to sleeping alone," he says. What a load of crap. Sakura turned her head back to hide her eyes.
The tears stung too.
The more she fought them from falling, the harder she struggled not to gasp, so she decided to let go. Pitiful. Wasn't it rule twenty-five? A shinobi should never show their tears?
Sakura sat up and wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her yukata, then crept quietly out of the room. She did it with ease, as she was used to sneaking out of the bedroom on the few nights Sasuke would sleep there or when Sarada would stay with her in order to get fresh air and think. Making her way to the small balcony, Sakura paused as she began to pass Sarada's room. She peeked in to check on her, as she always did, and was comforted at the sight of a small chest under the thin sheets moving up and down.
She glanced around the room-- the walls were a pretty light pink colour with white cherry blossoms stenciled in a line near the crown molding. She remembered painting the room all on her own while in her early stages of pregnancy, all on her own. Kakashi and Naruto chided her for that, said she should have waited for help and to not strain herself with arduous tasks now that she was expecting. She smiled, remembering how long it took her, waddling around with her belly in front of her and wearing a filthy, paint-covered apron. Aprons. Her mother had bought her a few as a gift for the baby shower. "Every good mother has to have a clean apron!" Mebuki said proudly when she presented her gift. Sakura thought it was silly at first, but soon came to see the aprons as a symbol of motherhood; all the times Sarada burped and spit up on the front of one, or when she attempted to cook and got covered in ingredients, or when she was rushing to get to work and forgot to take it off after making breakfast-- putting one on became part of her motherly routine.
"Who are you... are you even my real mom?!"
She bit her lip hard, hoping the quick pain would distract her from crying again, and closed the door quietly. Sliding the balcony door, the cool air rushed to greet her wet face.
"How could she say something like that," Sakura mused aloud, "to me... me! Of all people..." But then again, who else would she say that to?
"To think... she went so far as to track down her father like that... and with Naruto there to hear it too! How embarrassing..."
Naruto had pulled her aside when they had returned to the village. He asked her if everything was alright at home, if she and Sarada argued frequently. She scolded him, told him he should worry more about his own children and his neglect of them before he meddled in her own family affairs. He got quiet, then he got angry. He reminded her who she was speaking to, to not take liberties with him just because they were teammates once. He spoke about how Boruto understood why he never spent too much time with him, but still wanted to be a bit selfish. Said that Sarada didn't understand why Sasuke was never home and why Sakura was never honest with her about things, and wanted to know the truth, even if it seemed selfish or rude of her. The conversation was terse, but they both regretted their tones.
"You're married to him and you "don't remember" if he wore glasses?! Are you guys really married?"
Sakura let her head hang. The question was one she asked herself some days, so she could not yell at her daughter for that one.
Marriage. In reality, Sakura and Sasuke had never officially married. There was nothing on paper, no documentation, nothing. A marriage in name alone. She was satisfied with it, at first. Then worried. Was it really enough? To just call myself "Sakura Uchiha?" It was not. She opted for signing official documents with "Haruno Sakura" instead, and only called herself that when she was alone or with Sarada. Ino says it to cheer her up, Naruto doesn't say it at all, and the others say it out of respect. But could she call herself one?
The night she asked him what she meant to him, he was quiet. Finally, he had said, "Everything." His light, his darkness, his weakness, his strength, his friend, teammate... his family, the person he could come home to. When he had returned after his initial departure, it had been two years in and he had only come to visit and report in about his findings. She greeted him at the gate and happily said, "Welcome home!" He smiled back softly, and for a second, Sakura thought his ears and cheeks had reddened a bit. "I'm home," he said. Home. An elaborate farce. Sakura sighed. It felt like she was playing house sometimes, sweeping and cleaning, straightening books on the shelves tirelessly, making sure the fridge was stocked weekly with things he liked in case he came home. She remembered their first real date. Our only real date, really. The other "dates" were spent quietly enjoying each other's company and sometimes a trip to the library. The date was on a night of cherry blossom viewing; they spent it having a late night picnic down by the pond in the park. The setting was romantic and sweet, and he looked at her tenderly that night. All night. Sarada probably was conceived that night. The next morning, he announced that he would be leaving in a week, this time for a truly indefinite period of time.
He had returned when Sarada was born; he stayed with Sakura for four months after the pregnancy before leaving again, visited briefly when Sarada was two, then he was never seen again. Until now.
She sighed heavily. "No wonder she's so mad..." If it bothered Sakura, it definitely would bother Sarada just the same. A cold shiver ran down her spine and she decided it would not help her feel better if she stayed out in the chilly, summer night air and got herself sick, being all wet-faced and runny-nosed, so Sakura went back inside. When she turned, however, she did not expect to see Sasuke on the other side of the glass, staring blankly at her.
She gasped loudly, then shut her mouth tight, then "smiled," if you call a "god, you almost scared me shitless and now I have to play it off like I wasn't crying about 0.004 seconds ago and grin like an idiot" look a smile. Sasuke just made that gesture for her to come closer. She put her hand on the handle but the door resisted. Locked?
She mouthed the word "closed" to him, but he shook his head and made the same gesture. She sighed and came close to the glass. Plink. Sakura blinked, confused. When she looked, she nearly went cross-eyed staring at the fingers up against the glass where her forehead would be.
She'd have to wipe the glass down in the morning. She pressed her cheek to the glass and let out a heavy sob.
The lock clicked and the door slid, but Sakura made no effort to stand firm. She let herself tumble through the doorway, but Sasuke caught her quickly and soundlessly.
"Idiot... you shouldn't cry so much..."
The morning routine went as such: Sarada would get up first and put together the ingredients for the day's breakfast, Sakura would get up after, run a bath for Sarada and give herself a quick shower, put on her houseclothes and apron and head downstairs to help Sarada prepare and put on a kettle, and Sasuke would usually rise last and do some calisthenic exercises, then go to the kitchen and set the table while the women cooked. They did the routine without words this morning, and moved slower than usual.
"... You're doing that wrong." Sarada mumbled to Sakura under her breath. Sakura looked up and let her hands fall, the knife and apple she was cutting falling with them.
"You do it then. I'll chop the pecans." "Fine." "Fine."
Sasuke glanced up from the table at the pair and sighed.
"Is this the way you want them chopped?" "..." "... Sarada?" "... Do you really have to ask me that? Shouldn't you know how things should be chopped?" "Well I thought I did, but apparently I was doing it wrong--" "You were! You have to slice them thinly, but you where butchering the apple!" "I know how to cut an apple! It doesn't have to be thin!" "Well, it doesn't have to be thick-cut either! I told you how I wanted it cut, but you never listen to me!" "I never listen?! You never listen!"
The sound of hands slamming on the kitchen table caught them off guard.
"ENOUGH. Sakura, Sarada-- sit down. I'll finish breakfast."
"B-But..."
"Sit. Now."
It was a weird sight, yet oddly enough, it suited him for some reason, donning an apron from the nail on the wall near the pantry and grabbing a spatula. Sakura and Sarada watched in quiet awe as he expertly whipped the eggs batter in the pan with chopsticks, then took a container of seasoned rice and placed some in the center, then folded the omelette and slid it onto a plate. After a quiet and awkward fifteen minutes, the omurice was plated alongside a fruit salad with pecans tossed in honey, natto, plained steamed rice, and a plate of sliced tomatoes. He had done it all with one hand, and fast too. Sakura gulped, knowing that he would not have done that if he was not angry.
Sasuke sat at the end of the table quietly and crossed his arms, glaring at the two of them. They looked down, ashamed.
"I-I'll get the tea..."
"Yeah... I will... get some ketchup."
"..."
Sakura and Sarada stood up simultaneously, glancing at each other as they did. Sakura brought back a tray of green tea and clumsily set it down. Sarada shuffled to her seat and flicked the bottle open loudly, but paused before she squeezed it.
"... A smiley face..."
"What?" Sasuke stared at her, questioningly.
"A-A... A smiley face. You... forgot the draw a... smiley... face..." Her words trailed off sadly, as if she was remembering something that upset her once. Sasuke frowned, then rolled onto his knees, then reached out of the bottle. She passed it and then slid her plate towards him. Sasuke looked down at the plate and furrowed his brow, then positioned the bottle over the omelette. He squeezed it harder than he thought, the ketchup hitting the edge of the plate instead and splashing onto the table. He cursed under his breath, knitted his brows in concentration, and tried his best to draw a face on the egg. Sakura stifled a laugh and Sasuke shot a glare at her, making her cough. Sarada also began to giggle, unable to keep serious about the situation.
"It... it isn't funny!"
"I know-- haha, I know! It must be hard to do with one hand! Here, let me help you--"
"No. I'll do it. She asked me."
"Papa... it's fine! I only asked because Mo--" Sarada stopped short and looked down in her lap, her hands tightening. "Mom always put a smiley face on my eggs..."
Silence filled the air. Sarada stood up abruptly, turning to flee the room.
"I did not say you were excused, young lady."
"... I need to use the bathroom."
"Sarada..."
"..."
Sakura stood up and shook her head, then strode out of the room.
"M-Mom?"
"Sarada, sit." Sasuke beckoned to her with his hand to come close to him and sit. She stared for a bit before awkwardly complying. Sakura came back into the dining area with two boxes in her arms. She dropped them with a clattering thud before letting herself slide to her knees with her eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.
"Sarada. Before you say anything, I just want to get this off my chest." Sarada looked up at Sakura shyly, expecting to meet an angry gaze. Instead, she was surprised when she saw her mother with tears glistening in her eyes.
"The other day, you asked me who I really am. To you, to Sasuke... and I'll tell you." The flaps on the first book opened up and Sakura stuck her hands in, pulling out a large, thick book. She let it sit heavily on the table, glanced at Sasuke, then Sarada, before sighing and sliding the book to her.
"W-What is this?"
"Open it." Sasuke said quietly in her ear. Sarada swallowed loudly and reached out, turning the heavy cover slowly. The first page caught her by surprise; it had a picture of a blurry black and white x-ray of some sort.
"Believe it or not, that thing right there? That was you. This is your ultrasound photo."
"My... what?!"
Sakura smiled and put her hand on the corner of the book and flipped to the next page. She smiled bigger when she heard Sarada gasp.
"I... I never saw these pictures before! Was this you?"
Sakura was young in the photo-- she remembered that it was not that long ago that she was pregnant. Twenty-one, just starting to get her life together for real, then a baby interrupted it all. I never regretted it, not once. The future Seventh Hokage stood beside her, one hand splayed across her stomach, the other behind his head. The Hokage's wife was there too, smiling and belly round as well. The Sixth was there too, looking like a proud parent with his hand on Sakura's shoulder. She looked a bit embarrassed, the photo did not seem planned. There were others on the two pages: one of Sakura from the side, doing paperwork in her lab coat with her belly poking out. Another with Ino putting up a peace sign with her arm around Sakura's neck, pulling her in for a photo. Sakura had her hand protectively over her stomach in that one and was laughing. Another ultrasound photo was there as well. The next few pages chronicled Sakura's pregnancy, and near the end of the book were a few photos of Sasuke before, during, and after the birth. There was a picture of him apparently singing to Sakura's stomach, another candid of him looking at the baby clothes from the baby shower on the floor of Sarada's bedroom, another of him and Naruto setting up the crib, Kakashi in the back offering little help. Then a picture of him holding Sarada. His eyes looked red and bleary, but overjoyed. Sarada marveled at how small she looked in the photo, cradled in her father's loving embrace. She teared up, stumbling to find words.
"Why... why didn't you show me these before?! I-- we... we could have avoid all that fighting, all my running if you showed me this from the start! Why didn't you, mom?!"
"Because..." Sakura closed the book with a loud thud, then looked over at Sasuke for silent confirmation. Sasuke nodded and place his hand over hers on the book to reassure her. Taking in a deep breath, Sakura then beamed the brightest smile she could muster.
"Because I am your mother! And sometimes, that means letting you do something stupid or reckless to teach you a lesson. No matter what, I will always love you. No amount of photo evidence, birth certificates, or ironed aprons will prove how much I love you, Sarada. That goes for your father too." Sakura glanced at him before continuing. "We will have our ups and downs, and we might even get separated... but no matter the distance, always remember that we love you."
As Sasuke tightened his hold on her hand, Sakura told herself not to cry. She promised herself she wouldn't do it, that there was no reason to cry once she got it off her chest. Sarada jumped to her feet and stumbled into her lap clumsily, wrapping her arms around her neck.
Sasuke let go of her so she could reciprocate the hug, then smirked and let out a soft chuckle.
"Idiots... you are definitely both mother and daughter. You both look exactly the same when you cry."
Next Chapter: What
"What are you doing to your hair?!" Naruto shouted so loudly, so suddenly, that Hinata nearly chopped off another two inches of hair.
There was hair everywhere-- on the counter, on the floor, on Hinata's shoulders, even in the air, still silently floating to the ground. On top of that, she was naked and wet, fresh out of the shower.
"I-It was an impulse! I-I-I... just felt like doing it..."
She forgot herself when she spoke. If she had thought about her words before saying them, then she would have remembered-- no matter what she says, Naruto always knows the truth. Sometimes, his eyes were better than hers, picking up on every little nuance in a person's facial features and body language. This was one of those times.
"You're lying. What happened?"