#ssm21d9

[queen-serena]

[airashisakura]

My last entry for @ssskmonth | Prompts used Festivals and Family

Kin

Summary: When Sasuke struggles with letting go of pain from his past, Sakura and Sarada remind him that he doesn't have to do this alone.

Rating: Mature

_

“Anata?”

Sasuke stopped dusting off the shelves and looked over in Sakura’s direction. He frowned though, seeing Sakura perched on a stool dangerously, trying to clean the cobwebs of their apartment.

“I was asking…” Sakura scrunched her face in displeasure. She hadn't realized when she had left with Sasuke on his journey that it could bring this much work.

A week ago, when they unlocked the door of their apartment, back after a year with their three-month-old daughter, they had realized making their home habitable again wasn't going to be easy. The exhaustion of their journey back to Konoha hadn’t left their souls, but the Uchiha couple prioritized cleaning over resting.

Sasuke walked over to her and steadied her wobbling stool.

“What?”

Sleep deprivation had left him cranky. He had hoped that Sarada's wailing would cease after they had moved from roads to Konoha. Although he was glad that she was more safe under a roof, it hadn’t stopped her from crying the whole night.

Sakura caught the irritation laced in his voice, and considered whether she should say what she was about to.

“Obon is in two days..." She spoke cautiously, busy with her work. "I was asking if you want to…” She trailed off again, not sure how to phrase this.

“Obon?” Sasuke looked up in her direction. He was about to ask her again, when he realized. “Obon.”

Sakura turned, facing him, and asked nervously, “Should we?”

In all these years, he had never celebrated Obon. When he was a child, he remembered his mother strictly following rituals, preparing to welcome the spirits of their clan's ancestors.

He realized that although he always carried his long gone family in his heart, he never had given any damn about the festival.

“Aah,” he agreed.

Sakura's face lit up with a wide grin, but that died off when they heard Sarada crying at the top of her lungs.

While Sasuke rushed to attend Sarada, Sakura wrestled with more dust and ended up coughing.

Although Sarada’s shrill cries bore holes in his eardrum, all the chaos of his new-formed family had settled down all the internal chaos that he had carried for years.

_

Sasuke stirred out of his slumber engulfed with warmth . Sakura's body was pressed against his back, her arm snuggly thrown around him. Sarada had been quiet after days, and he felt fully rested, refreshed after a sleep devoid of nightmares too.

The light filtering from the curtain told him it was still early, and Sakura's breaths on his neck made him want to wake her up and kiss her numb. He had lost count of the number of days he had felt her bare skin on his, slowly and passionately driving her crazy. The days and nights after Sarada’s birth went by changing diapers and trying to understand the meaning between different kinds of cries, which he hadn't quite mastered yet.

Sasuke was tempted even further when Sakura pressed her lips on his neck and murmured 'morning,' her pert nipples brushing against his muscular back. Sasuke suppressed a gasp, his twitching member, and the urge to reciprocate his wife's desire. He gently pried away from his wife's leg, and regretted it when Sakura retracted herself from him.

"Anata?" Sakura sat up with a myriad of emotions on her face — confusion, hurt and rejection.

Sasuke didn't want to make her feel like that.

"I… I'm going to visit my parents' grave."

Sakura nodded and smiled, her features relaxing.

Sasuke never thought that gulping down the guilt of neglecting his dead family could be that easy.

_

Sasuke sauntered through the path that led to his parents' grave. The place was cold and distant like his heart had been for many years. Neglected even, he mused.

He stopped when he found the stone that bore his parents' name. Uchiha Mikoto and Uchiha Fugaku — names engraved with such beauty that was ironic considering the way they had died. A surge of rage and emotions pumped through his veins in a way that he was too familiar with — it had made him a person of sins that he was still redeeming for.

He stood there unable to repress the painful memories that had seeped from his past like a poison. His surroundings reverberated with the screams and blood that painted his nightmares.

Years of redemption had seemingly healed his wounds, but the sharpness of the past always cut, and the wounds bleed as they always had.

Unable to anchor himself, he looked anywhere but his parents' name. His eyes darted across the ungrazed grass, wild flowers, and puddles formed by summer rain. Stubborn weeds creeping over his parents grave, like the past that was attached to him.

His eyes caught something. And there it is, he mused again. A small pink wildflower intertwined with weeds, facing the sun. A gentle breeze that made its petals gleam in the sunlight reminded him of Sakura's unwavering love. The love that had waited for him through his sins and redemption — love that assured him every day that he no longer was in the darkness alone — love that gave him Sarada.

He crouched down, sighing. The summer heat was getting unbearable, and beads of sweat rolled down from his forehead. This reminded he should get going. Sometimes Sarada got all fussy, and it was hard for Sakura to manage her alone. Although his heart was heavy when his eyes glided over the name of his parents again, he smiled thinking about his new family.

Sasuke traced his finger on kanji of his mother's name, dirt gathering on his finger tip. He picked up the rag that he had brought with him and scrubbed the dirt and mud from the stones. With every swipe of the rag, the images of lifeless bodies of his parents became clearer in his mind. His fingers twitched, but he did his work diligently. The dirt from his parents' name was gone now, like the blood from the wooden floor that had pooled out from his parents' bodies.

Shaking his thoughts off, he held his shirt sleeve with his teeth and rolled it upwards. He went on plucking the weeds, wishing if it was this easy to pluck away memories of his past. There was a hopeful part of him — a little part — thought that with time, the pain of his lost family would wash away, but maybe hope wasn't a thing for Uchiha Sasuke.

He bid adieu to his dead parents, and got up to leave. As he walked away, he looked back over his shoulder to get a peek of the pink flower that remained. The pink flower that had grown in his life — accepting him and his past.

_

As he reached the threshold of his house, he stiffened when he couldn’t feel the familiar chakras he was accustomed to.

He looked around and found Sakura had almost finished cleaning their house. Bookshelves no longer had cobwebs, the white sheets had been removed from the furniture, and the floor was polished.

“Sakura?”

He was answered by the empty hallways and a note. It was a note from Sakura that said she was going out for grocery shopping.

He ran fingers through his hair, sighing, and walked towards the kitchen. He decided to cook a proper lunch. They had been surviving on simple food after they had returned, courtesy of Sarada's fussiness. It amazed him sometimes how their child managed to command all their attention.

Sakura always jokingly complained that it was something Sarada definitely had inherited from him. Sakura boasted that she was a quiet infant, and her parents always backed her up. Sometimes he felt a tinge of jealousy at that.

He opened the fridge and grabbed the leftover rations that they had, and he remembered Naruto grumbling about something similar. He knew he shouldn't find that soothing, but he realized in that aspect he wasn't alone.

In fact, he wasn't alone at all anymore.

Sasuke delved into cooking, but as time ticked on, he got impatient. He decided to go out and look for them. Something made him scared that he couldn't pinpoint.

As he was going to turn the stove off, he heard the click of the door knob. He heard Sakura calling him and responded.

Relief washed through him as Sakura approached him. He had been worrying over nothing. Perhaps his heart was still as fragile as his younger self's. Too afraid to lose, yet too afraid to accept his weakness.

Sakura kept the bag of groceries, grinning widely at him before she complimented the smell of the food. He was captivated by her green eyes, but his daughter seemed to have his attention now. Sarada happily clapped her hands on seeing him and wiggled in her baby sling to reach for him.

Sasuke bent down, and Sarada reached for his cheeks and patted them with her small hands, grinning toothlessly. This was Sarada's way to embrace, Sakura had told him once. Sasuke kissed her little palm before straightening himself.

"When did you return? We were sort of feeling alone, so we decided to make a quick trip to the market. "Ne, Sarada-chan?" Sakura cooed, rubbing her nose on Sarada's head, and Sarada giggled, agreeing with her.

"But someone had more fun than she expected." Sakura tickled Sarada, and she joined her in fits of laughter.

A smile slipped past his lips, and all the heaviness that had settled in his heart from that morning began to dissipate.

"She seemed to be in a good mood," Sasuke commented, looking for something from the bag.

"Yes." Sakura hummed, sifting her fingers through Sarada's hair.

His eyes lingered on them, before he started grating ginger.

"Umm, Anata? Isn't that too much?" Sakura pointed out.

Sasuke nodded, but he added it to the pan and said, "Father always liked it this way."

Sakura blinked. She didn't know how to respond. Sasuke rarely talked about his parents, so she stood there just nodding.

The space between them stilled, with only sounds of food sizzling on the pan and Sarada's squeals.

"Father used to love the spice of ginger, so Mother used to cook like this," Sasuke explained.

"I see," Sakura replied, excitement spiking in her voice.

"Mother also added less Mirin than required," Sasuke went on, and Sakura listened raptly, watching him while he cooked Gyudon.

Sakura didn't miss the melancholy in his eyes when Sasuke said that Gyudon was his father's favourite, and it stirred Sakura's heart

Sakura knew the things which are gone always hurt, but she knew too it took time to heal them. So when Sasuke told her bits of his family, she was glad that Sasuke talked about them without any resentment — sharing his lost happiness with her. She wanted to thank him, so Sakura tiptoed, her arms wrapping around Sarada, and she pecked on Sasuke's cheek.

It was unexpected, and Sasuke stared wide-eyed at the contents in the pan, while the tips of his ears turned red.

"I'll remember this when I cook next time," Sakura blushed.

Sasuke nodded, smirking.

Sarada wiggled in her sling to reach for Sasuke again while Sakura giggled and commented on how restless she was growing.

The house, the people, and the meal he had once shared together with his parents were long gone for him, but now he saw himself in Sarada who was trying to get her father's attention like he used to. He realized time had its own way to fix things.

_

Sasuke watched the sky, summer clouds lazily drifting and strings of smoke whirling between them. The smell of smoke from the neighborhood mingled with the evening breeze, and he felt nostalgic.

His clan breathed fire, and where there was fire, there was smoke. He remembered tasting the bitterness of smoke that lingered on his tongue when his lungs had flamed out a great fireball in childhood. He’d been excited to share his experience, and Itachi had confirmed with his too gentle smile that he had felt the same way

It was a memory that had been long forgotten. Years and years of using katon jutsus and chasing his older brother for revenge had made him ignorant to these feelings that he had held precious in his childhood.

The orangish hue of the setting sun told him it was time.

It was the first day of Obon. He looked around and saw the lantern that was tied at the entrance of their house swinging with the wind along with a windchime.

The lantern will guide them home, Sakura had said when she had tied them.

He knew that too. His mother had told him during childhood while Itachi had set up the bonfire for mukaebi. He had complained that bonfires are for winters, not for summers. His mother had laughed and had corrected him.

Sasuke, this bonfire and lanterns are for the spirits of our ancestors to guide their paths back home.

He had shrugged back then, because he thought he wouldn't have to bother about this in future.

Sasuke set the twigs, and lit them using a small fireball jutsu.

He sat there, remembering that Obon during his childhood had never been so solemn. Lots of people visited during that time. He hadn’t remembered any of them, though Itachi remembered some of them. Sasuke had challenged Itachi: Just you see, nii-san, next time, I'm going to remember everyone's name. Itachi had chuckled and had flicked his forehead.

The next time hadn't ever come. Before he could add more people to his growing list of people he knew, Itachi had wiped out everyone. And then Sasuke was alone.

He realized after all these years how much he had missed his older brother. He always wanted to bury the feeling because it came with the realization that Itachi was dead because of him. Itachi was dead because of Konoha.

Itachi was dead because he wanted his otouto to live.

"Anata?"

Sasuke lifted his eyes from the flames to Sakura, who looked worried. He looked back to flames.

"Are you okay?"

Sasuke nodded. He knew they had spent enough time together for Sakura to know he wasn't alright. His eyes were fixated on flames, so he didn't notice the way Sakura's eyes softened when she sat beside him.

He didn't want to ask her, but he found himself talking anyway. "Do you think Itachi can find his way?"

For the second time in the day, Sakura blinked in confusion.

Sasuke clarified again, "He doesn't even have a grave."

For a second, Sakura felt like she couldn't breathe. She had never seen Sasuke so vulnerable before.

"This place… Konoha…" He gritted his teeth. "I- I don't know how to call Konoha my home after what they did to my clan… to Itachi."

"I can't," He said, his voice louder and filled with accusation.

But as soon as these two words left his mouth, his eyes widened in the realization of what he had done. He shut his eyes and apologized to Sakura.

He felt Sakura's palm on his left cheek. It reminded him of his daughter's gentle touch — that they were his home.

Sakura smiled when his mismatched eyes met her green, and spoke softly, "Hate it till you can love it back, Sasuke-kun."

_

Sasuke swallowed the soft moan that fell out of Sakura's plump lips before he moved down on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses. When their house turned silent from Sarada's cries, they both sought comfort in their bed, limbs tangled innocently. Sasuke was comfortable enough now to delve into his wife's gentle touches. Gentle touches soon turned greedy when he kissed her the way he had wanted to that morning. It wasn't too long before their clothes were scattered across the polished wood of the floor.

He nipped her neck, eliciting a whimper and a delicious clench of her walls around his pulsing cock. He groaned and pushed deeper into her wet velvety cunt. The air from the ceiling fan cooled their sweating bodies, but the heat where they were intimately joined made both their spines tingle.

Sasuke leaned down to capture her lips again, and Sakura reciprocated wantonly meeting with his thrust. They gasped for air when they parted, saliva smeared across the corners of their lips. Sasuke held his gaze with hers, which was always soft, assuring, and accepting. Like a wanderer on a cold night regarded the flames that kept him warm, Sasuke tried to emanate his gratitude for her through his mismatched eyes.

He inched deeper, relishing the warmth of her skin. Sakura's lips parted in a silent cry when he hit the spot that he knew made Sakura come undone. Their rhythm became more erratic, and the heaving and slapping of wet skin was driving Sasuke to his own finish.

Sasuke angled his hips and thrust roughly. Sakura shuddered, her nails digging deep in his bare shoulder. He closed his eyes, focussing on the pleasure unknoting in his belly, he pushed roughly again, and felt—

Sarada's whimpers reached their ears. His eyes snapped open reflexively like he was waking in the midst of a nightmare, and Sakura's grip loosened on him. Sakura winced as he reluctantly pulled out of her. He wasn't sure if it was because Sarada's cries intensified, or if it was because they’d been interrupted.

She smiled weakly and slid out of bed. Sasuke huffed and dropped onto the bed, watching Sakura hurriedly putting his shirt to cover her curves.

When he made his way towards them, Sakura was pacing along the room, cradling Sarada in her arms trying to calm her down.

"I fed her, changed her diapers, and still she is crying," Sakura said, expression etched with worry and irritation. Sarada shrieked louder, and Sakura's patience was waning thin.

Sasuke stretched his arm towards her, and Sakura handed the baby over. When he took her in his arm, rocked her and carefully nuzzled his nose on her forehead, she stopped crying. Somehow, it felt strange yet so good that someone needed him.

He was sure Sakura was red with envy and embarrassment when she mumbled something and walked away. He couldn't help himself but let out a chuckle, and Sakura turned and laughed too.

_

Konoha's streets were overflowing with families, people enjoying and dancing around the yagura stage to the beats of Taiko drums on the second day of Obon.

"Ino and I always loved dancing to this rhythm."

Sasuke didn't remember anything from his genin days. Maybe Sakura had told him back then, but he never paid attention to it like the other things he had missed while chasing blindly after revenge. This festival, this tradition, and Sakura were always there, and he had always been a piece out of the puzzle.

But Sarada with all her charm had made him fit in the puzzle. And now he and Sakura sat on the engawa, basking in the comfortable silence that they shared while the sound of Taiko drums reverberated with his heart beats.

Sakura held Sarada close to her body. He smiled, eyes falling on the Uchiha fan on her little back.

"I sprained my ankle the previous year. It was all stupid Ino's fault."

Sakura went on telling him about her Obon experiences while his eyes lingered on the swell of her chest, the bindings tugged down for Sarada to suckle. Sarada fed herself without any complaints, her little fingers clutching on folds of the beautiful green yukata Sakura was wearing.

The beautiful cherry blossom print on her green yukata accentuated her beauty, but it was the Uchiha crest that she sewed on her yukata in the afternoon that accentuated her beauty.

Sasuke's eyes trailed upwards to her exposed skin, and he noticed the hitch in her breath when his eyes stayed on the purplish mark he had given her the night before. They locked eyes, trapping her green with his mismatched ones.

Sakura blushed furiously under his gaze. Sasuke smirked and asked, "Want to go to the festival?"

_

The sound of heavy breathing disturbed the silence, as both of them came down from their high, basking in the afterglow. A sheen of sweat covered them like velvet, limbs entangled and limp. Sakura's yukata lay crumpled between their bodies, tugged upwards and sideways unceremoniously.

Sasuke had committed to memory the way her pink hair seamlessly smudged with the green of her yukata when he had pushed inside her from behind, losing himself to pleasure. His fingers lightly traced her pink nipples, and Sakura gasped.

She turned her head back, and Sasuke pulled her closer to his body, his palm now resting over her beating heart. Sakura smiled, and Sasuke realized there were so many colours that adorned his life now — the red of her lips, the pink of her hair, the green of her eyes, and that mirthful smile.

His heart skipped a beat when he felt Sakura's heart dancing under his palm, synchronising with his. Their lips found their way to each other, the uchiwa on the Sakura's garment silently observing their love.

_

A wisp of smoke rose into the air while twigs in the bonfire crumbled down to ashes. Sasuke sat in front of the extinguished bonfire, looking above at the dark sky.

The moon hid behind the clouds and stars twinkled, trying hard to compensate for the overcast skies. A breeze touching his skin gave him a familiar feeling. He had spent more time under open skies wandering than under a roof with a family. However, tonight he felt the same heaviness that he had carried for a long time.

After they had dinner, Sakura had reminded him that it was the last day of Obon. Reluctantly, he had lit the okokuri-bi — the bonfire that sent the spirits back to their resting place. Maybe he didn't want to part with his dead family. Maybe holding on to the illusion where his father, mother and brother were with him was easier.

The breeze swept the hair that covered his eyes, his mismatched orbs growing wet. It wasn’t because of anger anymore, though. It just hurt. He clutched at his chest, fingers digging into his shirt, trying to soothe the pain that was there. An invisible pain that he only owned — that Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace.

"Sara-chan, did you like it?"

Sasuke snapped out of his thoughts as Sakura approached him. Sarada fiddled with a toy that Sakura bought recently for her. Sarada cooed in excitement, and Sakura giggled.

When she reached closer to him, Sakura stretched out her hand towards him. Words were not their way, and Sakura smiled gently, coaxing him to take her hand.

And Sasuke did.

Because there were things Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace, but he could relive and recreate memories with them. Severing bonds would never ease his pain, he knew now; instead, new bonds would help him embrace the old ones.

They were there for him — he wasn't alone, and he didn't need to do this on his own.

_

FFN | AO3

Obon is a Japanese custom to honor the spirits of one's ancestors. This custom involves a family reunion holiday during which people return to ancestral family places and visit and clean their ancestors' graves when the spirits of ancestors are supposed to revisit the household altars. It has been celebrated in Japan for more than 500 years and traditionally includes a dance, known as Bon Odori.

Credits: Inspired from Warm by @catflorist . For those who haven't read, please read this wonderful piece.

Thanks to @fm-white for telling me more about rituals of Obon.

Thanks for @fictionalquacker's headcanon that Fugaku loves beef, which helped me making an assumption that it could be Gyudon. Also thanks to lovely @birkastan2018 for giving some tips about cooking Gyudon 💪. A big thanks to @theredconversegirl for naming my fic 🥺. Believe me, I would be forever grateful to you for this❤️

Thanks to @something-like-air for beta-ing this. 🤗

Last but not the least, @thatsakurastan :") with her constant support and nagging, I was able to complete and post this fic. You deserve big slabs of chocolate!🍫🍫🍫

[kishillaa]

SSM21 Day 9: Family

Sasuke is fidgeting beside her, looking anywhere but the person, a few person, before them.

Understand that he won't saying anything else, Sakura bows, which a 3 year old Sarada, who's in Sasuke's hold do as well, "We apologise to be coming over here. My family were chased by enemy and this husband of mine is just too generous to transfer us here." She half teased, half serious telling the family before her their story.

The Uchihas family looks perplexed. Of course they would, someone who looks exactly like their youngest son is standing right before them, holding a toddler, with an oddly pink hair woman beside him.

"May we ask who you are?" The Uchiha Matriarch, Mikoto Uchiha asked.

It would seem better if they didn't tell the family their identity, but then again, this is once in a lifetime opportunity, to be with Sasuke's family. All of them gather in one place, so Sakura do what Sasuke probably wouldn't approve.

She smiles politely before she spoke, "I'm Sakura Uchiha, this is my husband, Sasuke Uchiha. And our daughter, Sarada Uchiha." She introduced. From her peripheral view, Sasuke is throwing a disbelieving look over her while Sarada squeals when her name is mentioned.

It was Itachi who spoke first, "Are you from the future?"

Sakura beamed at him, "Yes, such smart one you are."

Sasuke wished he has another hand that is not too busy holding Sarada to pinch the bridge of his nose for the stunt his wife has just pulled infront of his supposedly dead family.

-

Sitting with the other male members of his family, Sasuke can't seem to calm down as he plays with Sarada's hair to distract himself and occasionally responded to her babbling questions, and glancing at his wife–who is helping Mikoto with lunch, once in a while. He is forever grateful that his father and brother knew he doesn't want to speak.

"Is he like Naruto-oji, or Kakashi-jii chan?"

Sasuke paused at that, looking at his daughter trying to put pieces of puzzle together since her mother's outburst about those people being their family.

"Neither."

Sarada folded her little arms above her chest as she glares at her Papa. And then she shouted at her mother, "Mama! Papa being annoying again."

"Let him be today, Sarada-chan." Her soft voice sounded from the kitchen.

Sarada huffed and then grumbles on Sasuke's lap, "Be nice to Papa today, Sarada-chan. Just today, please." She mimics her mother's voice telling her what to and not do that day while they're visiting Papa's family.

Sasuke's eyes twitched at that, his lips make a frown of its own, "I don't think its nice to mock your mother."

"I dont think its nice to not answer Sarada's questions either." Was Sarada's quick remark.

"I did answer."

Sarada turns around in his lap to face him, "But you didn't give me proper answer, papa."

For one second, Sasuke lift up his gaze to look over his father and brother before quickly avert it away. He sighs, "Fine." He paused to drink his tea, "They're your family. Like Kizashi, and Mebuki. He," He nodded at Itachi, "is pretty much like Naruto," And then he paused, making a face thinking about the knucklehead.

"But Naruto-oji is your friend, Papa."

"It means family too."

"Really? Does that makes Chocho our family?"

Sasuke shrugs, "Sure."

"Inojin too?"

"Of course, Sarada."

The little girl's eyes glinting with excitement before she frowns, "How about Kakashi-jii chan? Is he family too."

Sasuke rolls his eyes thinking back at when he first started being a father, and somehow, betweem managing his job as a hokage, Kakashi was able to give him some of his Icha Icha Paradise tactics on how to start a bond with his new daughter, "No."

"But I like Kakashi-jii chan."

"Kakashi is bad influence. You should stop staying at his place."

"But I like hokage office."

"It's not a place for kids to play around."

"But Kakashi-jii chan said he likes Sarada's company."

Sasuke snorted, "Right, because you stamp for him."

"Kakashi-jii chan likes it when I help him doing hokage work."

"You should not encourage him to be lazy, Sarada. It's his job as the hokage, not you."

Sarada pulls her tongue our at her father, "But Shikamaru-san helped him." She pointed out.

"Shikamaru is his assistant. It's his job."

"I want to be a hokage too."

"You're 3 years old, Sarada."

Sarada nods her head a few times making her glasses fell down a little bit. "Old enough." She said, as she pushes her glasses up.

"She's a wise kid." Sasuke was startled at the voice of his brother, forgetting momentarily where they were.

Decided that it's time for him to speak up, he nodded, "She is."

"How do you transport yourself here, Sasuke?" It's his father. His stern authoritative voice makes Sasuke's raises his head up to look him in the eye.

He mutely uncover his hair over the rinnegan he tried to hide and show the odd 6 tomoe purple colored eye.

The eye makes the two Uchihas gasped in surprised, "It's rinnegan."

Sasuke nodded, "That's right."

Sarada's laughter surrounded the house successfully attract all attention to her. She lifted Sasuke's hair again to see his eyes. It always excite her to watch the mismatched color of her father's eyes.

"Can you do the star eyes, Papa?" She asked.

As if Sarada calls it herself, Sasuke's Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan appears, swirling into 6 pointing stars.

Sarada's giggle intensify before she pulls her father into her small embrace, and then pull away again, staring fondly at his eyes.

"Just how strong are you, little brother?" Itachi asked, amused.

-

"And then Papa killed it!" Sarada exclaimed with exasperation which earned her grandmother's laughter, Itachi's amused smile and an eye twitch from her grandfather.

Sasuke was silent as he watched the scene unfold before him. After they finish lunch, Sakura will help Mikoto clean up and doing the dishes. They will maybe sit for a little while, talking or rather, listening to Sarada babbles about everything she manages.

He, even though quite uncomfortable, is partly content at what had happen today. Both his family, past and future, finally met. He likes how casually Sakura speaks to Mikoto, the way she follows her orders as they cook together, and how she regards both Fugaku and Itachi. He likes how they accept who Sakura is to him, despite the different of clans, hair and eye color.

He especially loves how acceptable his past family is to their precious little Sarada. At such short time, he noticed how frequent his father will glance at the little girl, fondness marred his eyes. Itachi even though so subtle, shows how he enjoys Sarada's non stop talk, amusement danced in his expression, as if saying, you're just like my otouto. His mother is the most obvious out of them all. She already loves Sarada, that is an understatement of the day.

At this short moment of time, Sasuke let his guard down and savour this significantly valuable moment with his family.

He turn to look beside him only to meet with the green eyes of his wife, smiling at him. Sasuke nods as his expression soften before he returns her smile.

[xlalalandx]

Day 9: Family - ssskmonth

Source: Ep. 23 from Boruto

[pinkhairedlily]

Tadaima

Prompt: Family | A03 link here | Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

He woke up with a start, slightly disoriented, unsure where he was. Then he saw the caved in room, the dimming candle on his desk, the slight echoes of footsteps outside his door, and finally his robe. He was in Orochimaru’s lair.

There was that sinking pit in his stomach again, a feeling of intense longing, so bad that he crouched beside his bed and puked with nothing.

Why don’t you check the pockets of your robe and see what you’re looking for? A voice he swore was his whispered beside him. His head checked both of his sides and saw no one.

Come on, look at your robe.

“Stop it, you fucker,” Sasuke gritted through his teeth. He can feel another wave of nausea coming.

Ah, you just had to burn it, didn’t you? The only picture that reminded you of home.

Karin and Suigetsu rushed inside his room, both telling him to calm down. Only then did he realize the room was burning, the candle was melting too fast, and there was the smell of scorching skin…..they were burning and he was still shouting.

His head crashed against the wall, and he swore he thought the cracks were from his skull. Itachi’s eyes were staring back at him, and he wondered whether there was legitimate hate there. He wished there was rather than this void or this piercing gaze of nothingness.

Don’t do it! Don’t do it! You’ll never forgive yourself! You’ll regret this forever! That fucking voice won’t shut up, Sasuke thought as he coughed up blood.

When his eyes followed the red droplets, he registered the hilt of his katana, three-fourths of which were deep inside Itachi’s stomach.

Brother….don’t go.The voice inside him was utterly broken, and it pleaded with whatever strength it had in him.

Itachi bled all over, his eyes, his mouth, and yet he smiled. He rested his forehead against Sasuke’s, and for a moment, he was transported back to the time when he was still a kid with a complete family and a brother who spoiled him.

“Forgive me, Sasuke. There won’t be a next time.”

No no no no no no

The frantic beating of his heart matched the panicked no’s in his head. He killed him, he got his revenge, but for the sake of what? Was the truth supposed to relieve him from darkness?

Was this supposed to lift all the burden from his shoulders and magically erase his trauma? Sasuke ruminated with a major part of him still lost and confused, and then, again, like in a time warp, he found himself in a new space, his cursed hand passing through Sakura’s chest. Somewhere, he heard Naruto and Kakashi screaming.

You were looking for them all this time. This was what was missing, remember? The picture you set on fire. The faces you imprinted on your memory. And what do you want to do? Murder them?

She got so strong, so far from the naïve, romantic girl he left behind in Konoha, so different with her arresting presence and respect she commanded, but still so beautiful, and still so in love with a low life like him. How annoying.

Her. Her with the beautiful pink hair that reminded you of spring. You stupid piece of shit, why do you like to lose the people you love?

Only this time it wasn’t genjutsu. His chakra tore through her arteries and veins, and she gasped for air amid her shock. Her hands tried to reach his face, tears already pooling in her eyes. “Sasuke-kun-“

Sasuke, stop it! Don’t let her die, you fool!

“You can regenerate, right?” Sasuke mumbled, but the hands suddenly lost life and fell on her sides. Her green eyes, the color of forests, stared back at him with a harrowing void.

And the pain pierced him like one he never experienced before.

--------------

“Sasuke!” Sakura punched him in the face, jolting him awake. He coughed up blood and some pieces of teeth.

“Wow, you really didn’t hold back.” There was a slur in Naruto’s words, and it hit him – the way there was an alcohol aftertaste in his mouth.

“He just got released from trial Sakura, and the first thing you do is punch the love of your life?” Kakashi teased, acting like he was sober, but he was tipsy enough to forget he didn’t put his mask back on.

“He was screaming my name and wouldn’t wake up!” Sakura reasoned out. “Of course, I had to punch him!”

His body moved on its own, crawling to close the gap between him and her, his lone arm reaching out to grab her closer to his chest and feel her beating heart. She was alive and warm, wriggling against his clumsy hold, reeking also of alcohol. “You’re not gone.”

“Ooooh Sasuke is flat out wasted,” Kakashi cajoled. “So he’s the touchy type huh.”

“Please reserve your public displays of affection somewhere,” Naruto spat. “I haven’t hugged Hinata since our date at Ichiraku. I’m so pathetic.”

“Keep your eyes open, Naruto. This is good material for the next icha icha paradise,” Kakashi kept on teasing.

“All of you shut up!” Sakura yelled on top of her lungs. “And also you stop touching me!”

Sasuke laughed for the first time in a while, and the three of them stared at him dumbfounded, partly scared of what happened, partly amused of the effects of alcohol. The voice inside his head was silent now; it probably found what it was looking for.

“Tadaima,” Sasuke said, barely a whisper, but it reached them all the same.

Still reeling from intoxication, the rest of Team 7 engulfed him in a tight embrace. “Okaerinasai!”

Music recommendation for this piece is Daisy by Stereo Dive Foundation - Youtube | Spotify

[lady-otori]

Family // SasuSaku Month 2021

A little late, a little short, but we are smiling anyway  🥰✨ here’s my prompt for day 9, family! This is in the same universe and follows on from my prompts for Glances, Festival and Years Past. 🎁 please let me know what you think 🧊 | @ssskmonth​

Day 9: Family

Sakura wakes him from a nightmare. The sweat has soaked right through his clothes with it, dread lingering in the way his lone hand clutches the front of his wet shirt as his breathing evens to his usual calm. It’s the dead of night and Sasuke must have woken her, because her face is soft from sleep, expression open to him in its unguarded worry.

Ninja of their calibre don’t need to set watch.

“Sasuke-kun,” she says, trying and failing to keep the soothing tone from her voice. “Can I get you anything?”

Not are you alright? Not did you have a bad dream, but simple words of help. It’s testament to how much she understands the fear of the night that she says nothing trite. To those who know what it is like to wake and dread what you will find, what you have come from, it’s comforting to hear pragmatism over thoughtfulness. There is a sadness to realise that Sakura has learned this lesson after all.

“Water, please,” he asks, voice hoarse as though he had screamed into the night sky. He hoped he had not.

She brings him a canteen wordlessly and a ration besides, before turning her back, poking around in her bag to give him a semblance of privacy. He catches her peek; it is so very Sakura that he sighs into the lip of the cup, squeezing his eyes shut. Perhaps if they had been closer to home he wouldn’t have spoken, but this seaside forest is empty save for the two of them and the gentle susurrus of waves and it makes him contemplative.

“I dreamt of my family,” he says, quiet.

Sakura turns to him with her eyes wide as saucers.

“That night?” she asks. He needs no clarification.

“For once, no- no, they lived, and yet they were disappointed in me all the same.”

Cruel is the sleeping mind that makes mockery of one’s fears. And Sakura knows that as well as the next ninja, for she exhales with a sympathy that is tinged with experience, but she doesn’t press for details that he isn’t ready to give. Instead she sits next to him in the darkness of night, closer than he thinks she’s maybe easy with, as he drinks thirstily from the canteen and deigns to eat the ration she’d pressed with it.

They don’t speak for quite some time. But they communicate wordlessly, as Sasuke passes her the canteen and Sakura swaps it with a measure of strong liquor, taking a healthy swig herself.

“I dream of my family often,” she says eventually. “Funny how it’s never anything nice.”

He pauses, looking down into the sake until he sees the moon reflected in its clear depths. 

“What do you do about it?”

She tells him her secret, head bowed back to look through the gaps in the canopy above. It’s nothing revolutionary, just a way of focusing on the good things during the waking hours, but he takes comfort from it all the same. It’s part her confidence and part the way her tipped-back hair brushes over his knuckles as he holds his drink, a closeness borne only from the darkness of the night and the embrace of shared nightmares. They sit like that for an hour. Sasuke feels better for it.

And in the morning they speak naught of the happenings of the small hours, but when Sakura spies an errant lock of his hair she reaches out to fix it without thinking. A small intimacy, a thoughtless touch between friends that he has nigh forgotten existed.

She smiles when he does not flinch away from it.