Heiress Apparent
starter for @bellatrixiignis !!
Mikoto remembered Fugaku’s mother --- her hateful, vindictive aunt --- with painful clarity. That woman had been a terror to both her clan and her son, reign full of fearful obedience and talks of usurpation. Fugaku was taught the ways of leadership from Myoko, righted her wrongs, became the godsend the Uchiha needed, and he had suffered for it.
Sasuke, while far more competent than his grandmother, was no Fugaku. He did not know the beast that was revolution, did not know the struggle of inheriting a broken kingdom, and he could not teach such lessons to his daughter. Mikoto, however, could. She sat beside (never, ever behind) her husband since the moment they began courting, a matriarch far before she wore her wedding whites, and had never let anyone forget that she, too, was of royal blood.
Sarada will be better than them all, Mikoto swore, waiting with all the patience of a sunbathed cat, I will make sure of that.
The clock struck noon, and soon the familiar heat of her granddaughter’s chakra flooded her living room. It was warm, welcoming, but she knew better than to assume it could not scorch. Mikoto smiled at Sarada and stood from her kneeled position on the floor.
“I’m glad you could make it, dear.”