SasuSaku Month 2017 – Day One – First Love

s-asuke:

The rosebuds mixed with the ones of the cherry blossom tree on the cracked ground. Sarada Uchiha, with her small, yet strong legs, climbed up a practice dummy that her mother had made for her. When she decided it is enough for today, she cleaned up the tools from the everlasting scent of dirt and grass, running silently into the house to wake her mother from a nap.

Their house was still freshly painted – sentiment of her mothers’ wish for renovation. Sarada’s baby pictures, along with the only one picture of her father that she possesed was perched upon the fireplace, unused by the heat of the late spring. The month of June was upon them – searing heats were to meet them soon. Her mother walks into the room soon enough – perhaps wakened by the unsettling sound of Sarada’s heart, beating like a drum (or maybe it was even Sakura’s own, since the woman and the girl both anticipated the same thing).

“Papa’s coming back tomorrow.” She declares that, chest puffed out, legs nervous and nearly dancing. She can’t hide her happiness. “Yes, he is!” The face of her lonely mother lights up with a foreign cheeriness, teeth white and cheeks flushed. Her long, pink hair is let down in a flowing mesh of tresses, challenging dust to taint it.

“Mama, I can’t wait! Maybe Papa could stay for a week this time! Huh? And maybe we could go to that candy shop together? I know that Papa dislikes sweets, but you don’t, and Boruto said that they have three new licorice flawors! Papa will maybe like the sour ones, hm?”

“Mm, we will see, darling. When Papa comes, the most important thing is to hug attack him, to show him how much we love him and how much we missed him!”

“Yeah! And that’s our best combi attack Mom!”

“Now, now. What about your newfound shuriken skills? Won’ t you show those to Dad?” Sakura muses with a proud smile, Sarada is already beaming at her mother’s kind face. “Of course! I certainly won’t miss a chance!”

The two fall in comfortable silence, Sakura starts sorting out the laundry at the edge of their living room, which is large, lit by a small chandelier whose bent pink crystals give a red hue to the room. Just being still like this – safe and sound at the edge of Konoha, where no one can harm them – no person can touch them, gives Sakura such peace of mind. And Sasuke’s return is due tomorrow night… She giggles just at the thought. “Mama… would you mind if I slept in yours and Papa’s bed tonight?”

“Of course not, sweetie. Mom loves it when you sleep next to her.”

“Mm! Okay! Can we have dinner now?” Her big, black eyes expectantly gleam at her through the glasses. “Just let Mama finish the laundry sorting and then we will, ‘kay?”

“Sure! I’ll help!” Her black hair bounces in the same way Sakura’s did when she was a genin, and her small hands take shape of Sasuke’s, their pinky’s having the same curve inwards (Sasuke once mentioned it was genetical, from the way that generations of Uchiha practiced holding shuriken and weapons). Sakura wants to gush at the similarities, loving how much her daughter resembles her father.

Under the watchful eye of a hawk and a nin- cat, they eat.

+

This day has to be absolute success for Sarada: everything has to be utter perfection when Papa comes home. Sakura knows it – indulges in her daughter’s requests – her happiness is calculated and quiet, never loud and rambunctious like her own. So they buy lots of fruit, meet Hinata and Himawari for tea, and afterwards buy tomatoes (So Papa can enjoy his lunch!). Sarada almost skips in excitement as they are guided back home by the light summer air. Sarada hopes that the beforementioned summer won’t forget to guide her Papa home, too.

+

The sunset is warm on their toes, the duo outside the gates of Konoha. Sarada is balancing her kunai in her hand – the ones Papa gifted her. She is brimming with excitement, and it’s so infectious, Sakura feels the Uchiha crest on her back itch slightly, even through just a premonition. The dark figure of her husband nears them – Sarada starts running before Sakura even notices him – her lover is lithe and strong as always, expecting his daughter to clash into him, already opening his arms as his little girl collides with him full force. Sakura didn’t see him for two months – yes, may seem like a short amount of time – but for her it’s like suffocation. She stalks over to the two people she loves most in this world, and Sasuke Uchiha holds only stars in his eyes for her.

A soft smile he gifts his daughter was still there, everpresent as he lets Sarada on the ground, yet lets her cling to the edge of his cloak. Melting at the presence of his family, Sasuke croaks, voice unused, “Sakura…” His arms strong around her as he crushes her, and it feels so nice and warm and good and Sakura feels loved, she feels worthy, not like a little housewife she has to be after she returns from the hospital. “Ah, Sasuke-kun… I missed you…” A wistful tone she’s using on him makes his heart clench, his daughter’s delighted smile gives him so much strength, he holds out his hand for his daughter to hold, all the while not letting go of his blushing wife.

Sarada starts excitedly rambling to her Papa, immediately after they enter Konoha, Sasuke’s eyes not caring for their surroundings. Sakura and Sarada’s hands, one in each of his are quick to satisfy his heart, which missed them dearly too.

His travels and missions are more than often unpleasant and scarce with people – no actual human contact – and all of a sudden he is in the bustling centre of Konohagakure, heading down familiar paths to a place which was the Uchiha district once, now only the home of the Uchiha family. The house at the edge of the mountains – surrounded by the trees, with the nearest neighbors close enough to be seen – but not to intrefere and peer unwantedly into the house. Sasuke is attentive to every word of his daughter, occasionally nodding or replying, all the while glancing at his patient wife and returning the softness of her smile with the soft onyx of his eyes. After they get into the house, his wife lighting the house, Sarada murmuring something about dinner, running towards the kitchen. Sasuke gently covers Sakura’s cheek with her hand, whispering in her lips, “I’m home.”

The kiss is soft and passionate, Sasuke doesn’t spend a second being separated from Sakura, his hands occupied by caressing her soft face, her own locking his head, engulfed by his now long, dark tresses. When his hand passes her collarbone, she gives a pliant sigh, which reminds him to pull away for them to catch breath. Sakura’s emerald pools gleam – she measures Sasuke’s rowdy mane with her figertips, giggling, “You need a haircut.”

“Hn,” he retaliates, as Sarada jumps out of the corner, strutting excitedly towards her parents, “The table’s made! You have to get it out of the oven Mama, since it’s too hot.” She pouts at a small defeat, reminding Sasuke of his younger self. “Oh! Of course sweetie! You shouldn’t have touched the oven in the first place!“They leave him in the hallway, dissapearing into the dining room. As he abandons his cloak, and senses the slight sting of the paint in his nose, seeing through the dim lights of the dining room, his lovely wife and his clever daughter bonding, Sakura lightly lecturing her about not playing with the shuriken when they were just about to have dinner. Sasuke enters, offers to sit inbetween his girls and all of a sudden, the peaceful music from the ancient gramophone (gift from Shino) starts playing as they begin to eat. Sasuke never thought that he would enjoy music so much as he eats. Sarada’s occasional questions along the lines of ‘Do you like it’ and ‘Are you comfortable Papa?’ to which he all smiles slightly and nods. He is not yet tired – he will go to bed when Sakura does.

They finish the lunch with small talk – about how Sarada trains daily, her achievements, hopes and dreams, and Sarada skips to the yard, begging her father to come quick to watch her progress in shuriken training. As they are left alone, facing each other, Sasuke fathoms and places his happiness accordingly, eyes skating over Sakura’s exposed neck and beautiful belly, quick to settle upon her rosy cheeks and full, small lips. “Dear, I took a week off… so… how much will you be able to stay this time?” She is bashful, nearly shy – perhaps afraid of asking the wrong thing? Sasuke takes it to the heart – dislikes seeing his wife so tired, so… done.

“Good that you took off the week. I am wrapping up the… Ootsutsuki issue, so… I will stay this month.” Speaks it in his usual manner, his face relaxed but lips taut, unnoticeably biting the inside of his cheek for Sakura’s response. He does not expect the wave – no, tsunami of happiness that washes over her, rendering him breathless. Well, since she nearly choked him to death with that death grip around his neck. “Ah, really?” Failing in cover up her excitement, (with which he’s the most endeared with) she fixes up his hair which went a million different ways from the way she hugged him. “I can’t wait.”

He tells her of certain moments and difficulties, leaving out whether his feelings or some wounds. When Sakura decides their daughter has waited enough, she nudges Sasuke out, his legs a bit heavy, but still more than enough energy in them. Sarada is small but powerful, her young body carrying her easily towards the dummy, throwing multiple shuriken which collide with one another successfully, poised horizontally upon the dummy’s vital spots.

“You are doing very well.” Sasuke interrupts his daughter’s focus, face akin to a statue’s, but Sarada is never fooled by that. “Thank you!” Sasuke walks over to the dummies, collecting her shuriken and nodding his head towards a small pathway farther into the woods. “Let’s take a walk.”

What was once the powerful array of buildings that belonged to the Uchiha clan, now is a few lonely dirt roads that lead deep into the now small, all too young forest. Sarada is beaming next to him, feeling the importance of the silence and this opportunity. Sasuke is slightly disheartened by the lost memories, not allowing his daughter to doubt anything for a second. The docks are upon them – the same docks that twenty years ago Fugaku took Sasuke here to teach him the Katon jutsu. The water is slow and steady, and yet, if allowed, it would have the strength of a waterfall. Sasuke deems it appropriate for such a lesson.

“Mm. Dad? What are we doing here?”

“I am going to teach you some jutsu of our clan.” Just at the sentence, Sarada’s blush intensifies, becoming similar to the one Sakura sports. “Uh-huh! Which one?”

“It’s called Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu. The Great Fireball tehnique is the one which was passed in our clan for generations. Look.” Forming the seals unnaturally slow for him, and doing this jutsu that was so natural to him, he feels nearly at ease. The gargantuan fireball that forms from his chakra is heating up the chilly surface of the lake, causing it to damn near boil. He ends it as soon as he begun, simply by dissolving the chakra he built up in his chest, his awed daughter itching to try.

“I don’t expect you to get it right from the first try, even if it’s a smaller one, it simply means you need practice.”

“Mm! Don’t worry Dad, I will get it right straight away!” Sasuke is silent after seeing her tenacity, letting her do her own. She focuses, forehead creased, akin to the gesture his mother had a habit of doing, another jab to his heart. Soon replaced by immense sense of pride – his daughter, his hope – his dream, is so beautiful, loved and talented. He couldn’t be happier. His daughter weaves the signs – so much faster than he expected – and one wave of chakra later, there is a fireball, certainly not as big as his, but a formidable one certainly. She can’t blow the flames for a long time, and when she dissolves the built up chakra, she turns to him expectantly. Sasuke reveals his pride and his amazement like every other emotion – through his eyes.

Ruffling her black hair, gathering her easily in his arms he whispers, as if it’s a secret, “I am very proud of you.”

Giggling, she connects her thin arms on the width of his forehead, silently checking, “Is it enough for today, Papa?”

“Very well,” his heart doing a somersault when her legs relax on his shoulders and she kisses the back of his head, small hand caressing the eye which contains the Rinnegan. “Thank you for today Papa. I love spending time with you.” He hums, softening considerably, stiffening up when saying a small, “likewise”.

They are at peace, even if it’s dark and a slightly lonely night, but Sarada doesn’t even flinch at the tall shadows, her powerful Papa is with her. There is nothing that can ever happen with him nearby.

“You are Mama’s first love, right?” Sasuke is taken aback by the suddenness of this question. He answers it anyway.

“Yes.” Sarada is silent for a while, but Sasuke knows she is doing some heavy thinking.

“So that means that she is yours, too?"Sasuke frowns, answering immediately. "Yes, she is.” Interested to see where is this going, he questions Sarada. “Even through you are each other’s special first love, I want you to know that both you and Mama will always be my first love. You are my favorite people, in the entire world, and I love you the most.”

Picking Sarada up from his shoulders and settling her on the ground, just tens of meters before their house, he kisses Sarada’s forehead, and then tells her softly, “Mama may be my first love, but you are certainly sharing that place, because you are too precious to me.”

The lums above their heads were the only witnesses to the hug shared between the father and the daughter afterwards.