A/N: I do not own Naruto. This is a sequel to Passing Rain. I might make it into a three-chapters story just like its earlier counterpart, although it might not work out that way in the end. Thank you for your support in reading my fanfics.
All that Uchiha Sarada wanted in life was a father.
More specifically, Uchiha Sarada wanted Uchiha Sasuke to be the darling daddy figure that she had always desired, the father that she most desperately craved attention from.
Instead, she found him as a mangled, brittle skeleton on an arid, deserted battlefield one sunny afternoon. She didn't know where she was, or what the place used to be. But she recognized the Uchiha crest on the dark cotton cloak and instantly knew that it was he, the one that she yearned for all those 15 years of her life.
"Typical," Sarada bitterly spat while looking down at the remains of her father. "He's already gone as soon as I found him."
One by one, the survivors who traveled with Sarada caught up to her. They came to her side, took a look at the bones of the legendary senior Uchiha, and passed their condolences to her. Their words typically ranged from, "I'm so sorry for your loss, Sarada," to "He was a great shinobi, and a wonderful family man," even though they had no idea just how much, or little, Sasuke meant to Sarada and Konoha.
She didn't cry. No, Sarada thought, Uchihas don't cry. We never show our weaknesses to anyone, ever. I am an Uchiha. I'm part of an ancient clan that was once compact with supreme warriors. The Uchihas are too powerful to produce tears for a mediocre event such as this…
Unaffected by the outwardly kind words from strangers around her, Sarada stayed seemingly dispassionate and desiccated. Only the wind crackled through, maliciously blasting every dust particles toward the mourning survivors.
That deadbeat's not worth crying for, Sarada thought. He's not. He isn't…
While Sarada mentally blocked out a symphony of sundry stares from the spectating strangers, a hand was laid upon her shoulders. Steadily, she turned around and instantly saw his eyes, so blue and bright as the summer sea.
The man didn't utter any run-of-the-mill lines of feigned sympathy. No, despite his reputation as the loud-mouthed, obstreperous ninja of Konoha, Uzumaki Naruto knew when to keep his mouth shut.
His eyes were so frighteningly vast, yet so tender and comforting.
One by one, subtle, perfidious tears rolled down her cheeks, to the derelict earth. Uchiha Sarada broke out in sobs, within Naruto's embrace, for the rest of the afternoon.
All that Uchiha Sarada wanted at the moment was his touch.