letters from no one
SSM19 Prompt #18: Between the lines
Sarada hopes that her papa is just as romantic as mama believes.
Her mama has always been popular and it is never a surprise when she comes home with gifts. Sometimes it’s candy from the little old ladies whose hips mama replaced month before. Other times it’s crafts from the patients at the Children’s Center, pictures drawn in messy crayon and paper mache sculpture that are little lopsided. Even veterans from the last Shinobi war still send mama greeting cards on New Years every year.
But more often than not Mama receives flowers.
Sarada thinks bitterly that since papa left, the men of the village have gotten braver.
They gift her mama with magnificent bouquets. Dozens and dozens of long stem roses, carnations as big as her head, and of course cherry blossoms.
Sarada wishes these dumb suitors would at least have some originality.
After her mama subtly disposes of yet another large bouquet of red roses, because really how many roses does mama actually need?, Sarada asks her mother whether papa ever gave her flowers.
“Of course he has silly,” she would chuckle. Mama’s eyes twinkle as if she is aware of a grand secret, “your papa is quite the romantic.”
But Sarada doubts that.
Despite her mama’s admirers singlehandedly keeping the Yamanakas in business, Auntie Ino swears that she had never seen her father purchase a flower for her mama in all the years she manned the family store. Instead he gifts her practical but very unromantic items. A knife sharpener. Her favorite snacks.
Socks.
The Sixth laughs softly and tells Sarada that papa is lucky that mama has been so head over heels for her him from the day they met, because her father didn’t know the first thing about courting.
And Seventh merely sighs defeatedly and tells her that her father loves her mother very, very much. Even if he has trouble showing it.
And of course Sarada knows there is nothing romantic at all about leaving behind a wife and child.
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When she is looking through mama’s wardrobe one day for some sparkly bracelets to show ChoCho at their sleep-over next week, Sarada comes across a finely carved wooden box tucked between Mama’s socks and flannel pajama pants. She opens it expecting some treasure inside but instead finds several notebooks.
Curious, Sarada begins to flip through the pages. She cannot imagine her mama keeping a diary. Sarada has never seen her write in one, just in the margins of medical textbooks and paperwork from the hospital at the dinner table.
Inside the notebooks are carefully pressed and delicately preserved flowers. They aren’t the grand flowers she sees at Auntie Ino’s store and not the common ones mama’s suitors give her.
Instead they are more likened to wildflowers or weeds. Grown untouched by man and completely wild and imperfect.
Next to each pressed flower is a series of numbers in Sakura’s methodical handwriting. Sarada concludes these are dates from the steady ascension of the values. Mama never keeps the flowers from her admirers, so it surprises her that she would keep these plain blooms and in such careful fashion.
She returns from the library the next day with a hefty reference guide to flowers, plants, and their miscellaneous meanings, and Sarada meticulously looks up every single plant in those notebooks.
Bellflowers for unwavering love. Dandelions for overcoming hardships. Rue for regret.
Some blossoms don’t have a particular meaning, but they can’t be found anywhere near Konoha. These plants come from high in the mountains, deep in the forests, and hidden in the desert plains. Nowhere a normal traveler would go just for a tiny bloom
And others she can’t identify at all. Too exotic, too strange, and not at all like anything in the world. As if someone is sending mementos from a trip across the universe.
There is no sender. No return address. No clue on who sends her mother love letters in the form of flowers.
But mama is always in a particularly good mood whenever a new flower is added to her collection. And Sarada wonders who would send her mama these flowers and why her mama keeps them so lovingly preserved.
Perhaps it is a hobby and Sakura’s acquaintances from all over send her these rare plants to satisfy her mother’s curiosity. Or perhaps they are from a persistent but shy secret admirer who has the common sense not to send the stereotypical bouquet.
But most of all, she hopes its her papa. That the papa she is starting to forget still remembers her mama and her. Hopes that he still has a shred of romanticism left. That these messages are just his secret way of telling them that he is alive and well. That he still thinks of them.
Because when she asks her mama whether she thinks papa whether will be home soon, her mama tells her that papa will be back as soon as he can.
But mama has always been a terrible liar.
Because in reality, papa doesn’t send messages. Not to her, not to her mother. His mission is top secret and shrouded in mystery. And as far as she knows, save the Seventh, he hasn’t contacted anyone in years. Maybe because he can’t. Or maybe because he doesn’t want to.
___
A few days before her parents’ wedding anniversary, she finds herself shopping with her father for the perfect gift.
Sarada figures he would need help and she doesn’t want her mama to be disappointed by her husband’s lack of romance. So Sarada points out the flowers at Auntie Ino’s shop and explains each ones’ meaning. Ino watches over the father-daughter duo with bemusement.
“Do you need help there sir? I can see you seem to be quite a novice in the language of flowers!” From the back room, Sarada can hear Uncle Sai’s monotone chuckle.
But Papa scoffs, “Don’t listen to her Sarada, I’ve sent Sakura flowers before.” He says as if he is just stating a fact. Like telling her the sky is blue or the weather is fair in spring. But the tips of his ears burn bright red.
And Sarada can’t help but tease her father too, “Well aren’t you romantic papa?”
A/N: A day late, unedited, and probably full of grammar mistakes! But happy SSM19! Thank you for reading!
