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They were a weird bunch, standing over unnamed graves at the farthest corner of the town. It rained earlier, the cusp of autumn lingering in the aftermath of the light showers. This was the designated spot , Kakashi said, where everyone can easily forget and forgive.
Despite its remoteness, someone took the time to cut the grass and plant perennial wildflowers, the bare minimum for the excommunicated. Sarada snuggled closer to the breast of her grandmother, still too milk-drunk to watch what was happening.
Sasuke shifted in his feet, unaccustomed still with the presence of Sakura’s parents. He cleared his throat and swept his arm across the grounds. “Well, uh, this is it.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t even put their names. So disrespectful.” Kizashi shook his head in dismay. He glanced at Sasuke briefly. “And I’m not saying this because you’re my son-in-law, but I think everyone who gets on their deathbed wishes to be remembered.”
“Papa,” Sakura whined.
“Ah, let your father speak his mind,” Mebuki said softly, adjusting Sarada against her waist. “Now, Sasuke dear, I think it’s time you make the introductions.”
Sasuke cleared his throat and went to the two highest headstones in the middle. “These are my parents, Fugaku and Mikoto.” Sakura watched him gather his composure. “Mom, Dad, these are Sakura’s parents—Haruno Kizashi and Mebuki.”
Kizashi took out an incense holder and sticks and lit them in between the graves. “Nice to meet you, Fugaku and Mikoto. On behalf of my daughter, I apologize that we only have this meeting of families after their wedding .” He playfully glared at Sakura which she dutifully returned with a tight smile. “I believe we can agree that what they did was more of an elopement and that we agree on a second, more traditional wedding—”
“Papa—”
“---eventually.” Kizashi pulls Mebuki to his side, his hand gently patting Sarada’s head. “Me and my wife, we’re not really from a prestigious family.”
“We’re normies,” his wife suggested.
Kizashi agreed, “Yes, we’re not a ninja clan, like yourselves although I heard you’re very prolific.”
“Lots of prodigies, very good genes,” Mebuki added, “It shows in his handsome face. I understand why my only daughter has pursued him since they were kids.”
“Very intelligent too.”
“Yes, I agree. Very smart.”
Sakura can only close her eyes in embarrassment. “Mama, not you too. Can you spare me some dignity?”
“Well, Fugaku and Mikoto, he had a good upbringing,” Kizashi grinned at Sasuke who by now was staring at the ground and probably counting the number of bugs that have made their journey across his feet. “Your time here was short, but I’d like to believe some traits are genetic. Like kindness.”
Mebuki nodded. “He’s also very helpful. You must have been good cooks as Sasuke here likes to pass time in the kitchen. He loves making my daughter a variety of dishes.”
“She’s busy at the hospital,” Sasuke interjected in his wife’s defense. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware that he cut off his mother-in-law. “She’s a doctor, Mom.”
“You’re right, and an excellent one at that,” Mebuki replied, “So it’s really a big help that he keeps her full with energy and nourishment. He’s a very good kid.” She turned to Sasuke. “You’re a good kid.”
Sakura wondered how Sasuke was taking all of these in. Prior to this meeting, her parents really never told her what they thought about him. But calling him a good kid, after all the things he had done, all the crimes he committed, and all the consequences that ensued, must be something foreign to him.
Because it was all true. Underneath that exterior, he was a good kid.
Kizahi placed an arm across Sasuke’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about him, Kizashi and Mikoto. We will do our best to take care of him.”
“We will make him his favorite dishes. Of course, it wouldn’t be like yours, but if it’s something he wants, then we will cook it for him,” Mebuki seconded.
“Don’t you worry about him. We’ll keep an eye out for your only son.”
Sakura saw the slight change in Sasuke’s features. “He has a brother, Papa.”
“Oh you do?” Kizashi removed his hand and pulled away to give him space. Her father must have noticed him tensed up.
Sakura waited for anger, for denial of existence, for the lack of recognition, but maybe it was the time or the presence of the ghosts of his family.
“An older brother. Uchiha Itachi,” Sasuke looked at the older couple, “He doesn’t have a grave here.”
“I see,” Kizashi simply said. “Is he a good brother?”
Sakura reached out for Sasuke’s hand. It was cold, clammy, and rough, but he held her gently. She noticed the grass stains on his nails, and some blades of grass got stuck on the side of his pants.
“He was,” he answered.
Sarada stirred in her sleep and her chubby fingers found Mebuki’s chest finally uncomfortable.
“I think we’re done for the day,” Kizashi said. He gestured to Mebuki and the couple made a bow to the headstones, murmuring a shared prayer under their breaths.
At the gates, Sasuke looked back one last time. “This garden’s gonna be overgrown with weeds in a year.”
Mebuki shrugged. “Hmm, sometimes nature does the upkeep.”
“Sarada, wait up!” Sakura left the comfort of Sasuke’s grip and ran after their dawdling toddler. “She’s an adventurer, this one.”
Sasuke managed to corner the black-haired babe. He helped her clamber up to his shoulders for a better view. While Sarada might have discovered the joy of walking, she still preferred the joy of her premium seating—as if she was on the top of the world. She laughed, toothless and spittles, as she grabbed the strands of her father’s hair.
“It’s a bummer that Mama and Papa aren’t here,” he said.
“Aren’t they too overbearing for you?” Sakura sighed. “I love them, I really do, but five days in their house didn’t really give us privacy. This free day is like a breath of fresh air.”
“There’s privacy,” Sasuke reasoned out. “I kissed you with lights out, honey.”
“That’s not the point.”
“And they made me lots of onigiri.”
“Okay glutton.”
They stopped in their tracks once they saw the full view of the graveyard. In her periphery, Sakura thought she saw Sasuke sway. She held on to his elbow nonetheless. The grass remained tame and perfectly tamed. The flowers were vivid and bright and warm, and someone surrounded the headstones with bushes of camellias.
The blank slates now have names. Beside Fugaku’s was a new stone: Uchiha Itachi.
Sarada giggled, her hands reaching out to touch the first bud of a cherry blossom tree, an ushering of spring.