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Sarada stared, mortified, at the empty space where her mother had just stood. Nothing remained but a cloud of thick dust and the imprints of their strange enemies in the ground. What had just happened? Wh-what?
“M-Mama!” Sarada cried, her voice wavering with the weight of her stress. “Mama! Mama!”
Racing over to where her proud and spirited mother had just stood but mere seconds ago, Sarada fell to her knees and grasped a handful of loose dirt, squeezing it as if the sole action would bring back the woman she so desperately longed to hold her and coo in her ear. She just wanted to go home. She was sorry she ever came on this silly journey. Sarada just wanted her mother.
“Sarada,” It was the seventh, his wound already healed, leaving only a jagged tear in his clothes and dark blood stain as a reminder. Sarada met his kind eyes and he kneeled down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We will get your mother back, Sarada. I promise.”
“I want to go home.” Sarada whispered, tears finally pooling around her lids and spilling over. “I want to go home. I want my mama.”
“I know.” The seventh’s voice was infinitely patient and kind. His eyes glowed warmly in a way that reminded her of her mother’s.
It soothed Sarada, but only marginally. Nothing the Seventh or anyone could say or do would ever compare to the comfort that her mother brought her when she needed it most. Sarada envisioned falling into her mother’s strong arms and just having a good cry. That was all she wanted.
“For now,” The Seventh turned serious very suddenly, “We must get you and Chou Chou to safety. It was foolish of me to bring you two out here in the first place.”
“That is true. It was foolish to bring these children.”
Sarada’s gaze zeroed in on her father who, up until this point, had remained silent and hidden behind the Seventh’s vast build. Sarada felt a flash of anger at her father, dark and unfamiliar, but terribly violent in its intensity.
“This is your fault!” She snarled at the man she had desired to meet for so long. “If you-If you hadn’t left, none of this would have happened!”
Her mysterious father met her eyes evenly and nodded in surprisingly agreement. “Yes, this is my fault. And thus it is my responsibility to fix it.”
Turing swiftly, he began walking away, quickening his pace with each step. Sarada watched him disappear through the trees and into the forest, not once looking back. She vaguely considered going after him but she was so tired and worn. The Seventh’s chest seemed like a far better place to plant herself.
Leaning into his chest, Sarada closed her eyes and drifted off.