Title: Irony
Prompt: "Plant your trees, watch them grow” (Day 25)
Theme: The after years (adulthood / married life)
Comments: inspired by this :)
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Looking at your daughter smile brightly under the shade of her large red-and-white hat, all you can think is that it is all kind of ironic.
You are reminded of that moment, in the battlefield, in which you were startled by the arrival of the one person you kept trying not to think of (though failing occasionally). You remember the shock and the weariness and the confusion you and everyone – but Naruto – displayed. Some were defensive, some were suspicious, Naruto was calm – as if he already knew that would happen, which you know he did –, and you... you were afraid – of being disappointed; of having to face that person again; of getting hurt by him (once more).
You said his name, he said your name, and your stomach flipped and turned. You felt rather nostalgic. Then, you asked him what his true intentions were, and he said those words:
“I am going to become Hokage.”
You were left flabbergasted, and not in a good way. You knew, already, that his intentions were not good – not for the world, not for himself. You tried to ignore it at first, to fool yourself, to have a little faith, but your gut was always right when it came to him. You knew him too well. And later, when your suspicions were confirmed, you felt broken.
Many things happened after that. You were a little more broken, but eventually, you got fixed; you all did, and that's what truly matters. The past is the past, after all. This is the present.
This is the future.
How long has passed since that moment you have briefly recalled? You were seventeen back then, and you are now forty five, which means it's been twenty eight years. What a big number. Time has flown, hasn't it?
Everything has changed greatly now. The people, the village, the world... The memories of your teenage years seem like some distant bad dream, or someone else's backstory. You can barely believe that that hard-working, heart-broken girl was you, and that that ruthless, vengeful boy was the same man currently standing at your side, a protective hand on the small of your back.
“It's ironic,” you voice your thought, only for said man, your husband, to hear.
“What is?” he asks.
“Twenty eight years ago, under much different circumstances, this could have been you.”
He is quiet for a few moments, thinking.
“I'm glad that it wasn't,” he replies at last. “I'm glad that, after all this time, it's her instead.”
You are, too. You believe that she will be wonderful at this new job. You know her better than anyone; you raised her, and you watched her grow into the woman she is now, so you are utterly certain that she has the potential to change the shinobi world as much as, or even more than, Naruto did. She carries the same Will of Fire, after all. She is strong, honest, kind, intelligent, beautiful... In her hands, the village can only go forward.
“The second female Hokage,” your husband muses then, “and the first Uchiha Hokage...”
You look up at him, grinning. “She's one hell of a girl, isn't she?”
Sasuke smiles back, gently circling your waist and pulling you closer. Then, full of unmeasurable pride, both of you look back at Sarada, who happily waves at the villagers celebrating her success. “She's our daughter, after all.”
Title: The embodiment of love
Author: Ella / ff.net’s xElla8D / youtube’s xHawtAMV
Summary: Day 25: ‘Plant your trees, watch them grow’ - in which Sasuke and Sakura take their daughter to Itachi’s grave.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
Prompt: 'Plant your trees, watch them grow’
Rating: K
Comments: Because Sarada is technically the Team 7 child, yo.
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11349882/25/Daily-spices
He was too fond of the little brats already. They’d barely even been a full-fledged team for a month, and already he knew he’d die for those runts. It was something about the way they treated each other. The love in their eyes. Especially the pink-haired one. She loved both of her idiot team-mates unconditionally. Kakashi sighed and turned a page in his book. Maybe one day they’d understand her love for them. One as a brother, the other a lover.
.
.
He really hated the black-haired one right about now. That little shit had taken his heart (and his technique mind you) only to abandon his team and his village. Not only that, but the bratty Uchiha boy had left his favorite student (and no he was not a pervert) on a bench to be taken advantage of. Kakashi groaned in annoyance as he watched his two remaining students practice. Maybe little Sakura would grow out of her infatuation for the traitorous boy. He took a deep breath as he watched her groan in annoyance at something her teammate did. She wouldn’t. He knew the look on her face. She loved him. And the brat didn’t even know it.
.
.
It was official. He was going to kill the last Uchiha, and no one would blame him for it. Except for Sakura. Sakura would blame him. He sighed as she healed his arm. She tried to hide her tears from him, but he could feel them falling onto his arm. This little girl would be the death of him. He reached out to ruffle her hair and smiled softly at her beneath his mask.
“He’ll learn. I promise. They always do.”
.
.
He couldn’t contain his grin as he watched her cry over him despite his apology. He was never more thankful for the mask than he was now, because he could feel the muscles in his cheeks aching. He had finally come to his stupid little senses. The little twit. He still hated him, more than he hated delayed Icha Icha releases. But right now, with the way the young Uchiha was smiling back at his favorite student, he couldn’t care less about his hatred.
.
.
He wouldn’t call himself a spy. But he was definitely keeping a close eye on his favorite teammate and her idiot lover. Sasuke had already requested his leave from Konoha in two months, and he just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything dumb while he was still home with Sakura. He didn’t want to admit it, but he loved them both. And he just wanted Sakura happy. Finally. He took a deep breath when they stopped talking, fearing he’d been caught.
“Did you visit your parents?”
He nodded and leaned away from her. “You?”
She nodded as well and leaned towards him, as if they were magnets. “They’re not thrilled, but they’re happy for me.” She reached for his hand, and he let her take it. “Will you come to dinner?”
“Tonight?”
She nodded and slowed her steps a little. “Kaa-san’s cooking your favorite for you.”
“Then I must go.”
Kakashi held back his squeal. He didn’t know the little shit could crack a joke. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was proud.
Sakura smiled brightly up at her not-quite-boyfriend and leaned forward with a small smile on her lips. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Sasuke looked surprised but leaned forward just as well and nodded. He let her kiss him softly, briefly, and pulled away just as quickly as it had happened. He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered so softly that Kakashi almost missed it: “Thank you.”
Sakura didn’t cry, didn’t grumble, groan or complain. But she did smile and release his hand so that he could have his space.
They’d really grown so much.
“Sakura,” Her husband waved her over to their dining room table covered in papers.
Holding their eight month old daughter in her arms she moved closer to him, “What is it Sasuke-kun? I was just about to give Sarada a bath.”
Mismatched eyes smiled softly at the gurgling infant before meeting the emeralds of his wife’s gaze, “Look here.” His hand taped on one of the papers – a rather large paper.
On the paper were several drawings of what Sakura could only assume to be a building; the interior and exterior were featured alongside several notes. “Oh, is Kakashi-sensei commissioning a new building in the village? I’ve been telling him for years to make a new hospital facility – but that looks kind of small...”
Sasuke reached his hand out so that his daughter’s flailing hands could grasp at his fingers. He smirked up at her, “No, this is going to be our home Sakura.”
“Huh?”
“This apartment is nice, but it’s not right for our family now. I know you said that we could put Sarada in the spare room when she was old enough to leave the crib in ours, but you use that as your home office, and just because we have a daughter now doesn’t mean you need your study any less.” A small blush colored his cheeks, “When she’s older it would be nice if Sarada had a yard to play in; she and I can make a tomato garden – don’t you think she’d like that? We’ll also have a place to store all of our ninja tools safely so that she can’t get into them and hurt herself. What do you think Sakura?”
Sarada was quickly and safely deposited in her father’s lap so that Sakura could wrap her arms around her husband in a tight embrace. “That sounds really nice Sasuke-kun! I can’t believe I didn’t think about it myself!” The pink-haired woman pulled back to kiss her husband chastely before turning to study the plans. “Uwa, it looks so perfect.” Sakura looked once more at her small family, “We’ll plant our roots there, ne, Sasuke-kun?”
“Aa, this will be our home. I hope Sarada will like it as much as you do when it’s built.” He could already see the three of them gathered together in the house he would have built.
They move back into the Uchiha compound to start their new life—together.
.
Sasuke almost doesn’t recognize his home, once full of warmth and joy but tainted by blood and nightmares. Now, however, with his hand in Sakura’s, he sees the horror of that night disappear into the home it once was.
“We’re home,” Sakura says. She dumps the groceries onto the floor and begins to remove the foods from the bag. “Sasuke-kun, could you please put the leeks over there? I might want to use them later.”
“Hn,” he responds. He sets the items onto the table for Sakura to pack into the pantry and refrigerator, but making sure to place the leeks over there—wherever there was—and wraps the bag into a tight knot for later use.
“If you’re not busy,” Sakura continues. “Could you go out and water the garden? The plants are getting a little dry. I’m afraid the summer season is taking a great toll on them.”
Sasuke fills the watering can with the hose and begins to survey the large area of land that needs attention. Haphazardly, he simply pours the water wherever he thinks needs it, not exactly knowing which plants are healthy and which are near death. But, he figures, all plants need attention.
His eyes wander towards the sprouting tree in the middle of the yard, separated from all the rest. It draws his attention like a beacon; he ignores all the other plants and walks toward it.
Looking down at the tree, only waist-high by this point, he notes how tall it’s gotten since the day they planted it.
“Well,” Sakura says. “You’re back where you started, Sasuke-kun. Welcome home.”
Her hand squeezes his, as if to ward all the evil memories that inhabited this home. With Sakura, though, he feels safe. This house is pure again.
“Ah, your mother had a beautiful garden.”
Sasuke remembers having the duty of watering the plants with Itachi and Mama while Fugaku made tea for everyone. He still thinks of how heavy the full watering can was, and how Itachi and Mama laughed when he fell over and spilled it all over himself.
Sakura brings out the small plant and releases his hand to hand him a shovel and some soil.
“Ino gave this to us, for our wedding gift.”
Sasuke scoffs. “Doesn’t Yamanaka—“
“Ino,” Sakura scolds. “Call her by her name.”
Sasuke rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t she own a flower shop?”
“Yeah,” Sakura says. “But she gave this to us because she knows it’s going to last a long time.”
Sasuke is fine with this explanation, and begins to dig. The whole is deep enough for the tree to sit rooted in damp dirt. Sakura lowers the tree into its whole, and pats the soil around it to secure. This, of course, is her job—Sasuke doesn’t have enough hands to pat evenly, and Sakura teases him for it.
He brings over the watering can and watches the trickles of nourishment blanket the tree and its tiny leaves. The liquid wets the tiny trunk and soil, seeping down into its roots. Sakura leans her head on Sasuke’s shoulder.
“It’s going to grow up big and strong,” Sakura says. “It’ll be beautiful.”
“Aa.”
“This is it,” Sakura continues. “The start of our new life together.” She glances up at Sasuke with a smile and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips, much to his embarrassment at her public affection. She giggles. “Just like this tree, my love for you will keep growing and growing until it can’t possibly get any bigger.”
He smiles. “Aa.”
“Hey, Sasuke-kun, I thought I told you to water the whole garden! What are you doing—“ Sakura calls out from the back door.
She sees him standing in front of their tree. His back slumps, only the slightest. The watering can has fallen to the grass, its contents spilling near his feet. He doesn’t move.
“Sasuke-kun?” Sakura calls. “Are you okay?”
She joins him, standing by his side. His eyes stare at the tree, much taller than it was when they first planted it together only months ago.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“You said you would keep loving me more and more as long as this stupid tree grew.”
Sakura ignores his derogatory insult at the gift her best friend had given her. “Yeah, so what? You think I’m going to go back on my word?”
“No,” he says. “I’m just thinking how long it’ll take before it’s fully grown.”
“Probably forever,” Sakura responds. She grabs Sasuke’s arm and tickles his chin with her finger. “Why, you can’t wait for the full extent of my professed love?”
Sasuke has gotten bolder. He draws her into a kiss, but the blush is still very much there and will most likely be there to stay—after all, it’s Sasuke.
“Just like this tree,” he murmurs, letting her wallow in her shock. “Our love will live on, growing strong, even after this plant turns to dust and ash.”
Sakura smiles. Her arms wrap around his neck. She holds him to her. “Welcome home.”
because the history between two people who love each other can be like a tree: sometimes gnarled and ugly, sometimes strong and beautiful, but always always growing
They’re in Wave for a mission, when he realizes.
They’re stopped at a cliff. (“It’s so beautiful here, Sasuke-kun, and I don’t care if Kakashi wants us to meet a deadline. That old man’s been late on us enough times.”) Sakura’s feet dangle over the edge, and she raises her arms in a stretch.
The water below ripples gently, the shhh and ahhh of the waves. She sighs in content, and he sits by her, opens up the lunch they packed.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, taking off her gloves and biting into her onigiri.
“Mm.”
The last time they were here together, they were twelve, and she asked him on a date. He remembers only because he remembers everything about that journey: the needles piercing his body as it “moved on its own,” the idiot crying as he slept, the other idiot crying as he woke.
He’d said no, to her offer back then, and this memory brings a smile to his lips. An earnest Sakura, who badgered him to no end, her face dismal at his refusal.
They were so young back then, he thinks; he was a Sasuke who didn’t understand bonds and why, when he woke from Haku’s poison, all he could feel was heavy warmth and soft hair tickling his neck. His smile disappears at this, and his thoughts run:
She was a Sakura who didn’t know heartbreak yet (his fists tighten at this), whose throat he hadn’t felt in his own fucking hand yet (his nails dig into his palms), who hadn’t put everything on the line for him—exhausted all her chakra, from the seal lining her skin—, who hadn’t saved him from the brink of death with the morning sun surrounding her like some halo and—
“What are you thinking about?”
Sasuke shakes his head, but these memories—the histories between them—are hard to repress. There is always the good, but there is always the bad too.
He takes a breath.
“You,” he answers, simply. She smiles up at him, and he looks away. “How annoying you are.”
“That’s not very nice,” she says softly, after a beat, and he watches the way she tosses stones into the water below. He watches the curve of her wrist, the bright green eyes, the proud Byakugo seal on her forehead, the softness the strength the kindness—
and he knows in that moment, how intertwined their stories are. And he wonders if this Sasuke, the Sasuke he is now, would exist without this Sakura.
No.
And then, with a breeze sifting through the ends of her hair and her eyes wide, grinning because her stones hit a seventh ripple (“Did you see that?! Did you see that?!”) , he knows:
