Because screw canon, all three of them deserved better.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or anything associated with it. All rights to Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto and the other proper entities.
Summary: She finds Sasuke holding their daughter while she sobs against his chest. He's murmuring to her—"I'm here. I'm sorry. I'm here."
Rating: T (some nudity and suggestive themes)
Genre: Family/Romance
Pairings: SasuSaku
Coming Home
Sakura is putting a fussy four year old Sarada to bed when someone knocks at her front door. Sighing, wondering who is turning up at her house at six thirty in the evening, she abandons her task in favour of opening the front door and greeting her ill-timed guest.
She knows it's the real Naruto as soon as she sets eyes on him. He didn't send a clone. He's panting, likely having pushed beyond his usual speed to get to her door as fast as possible, clutching at the doorframe excitedly. He's grinning from ear to ear and her heart stutters at the look in his eyes.
There's only one thing it could possibly mean.
"Is…" she breathes, unable to stop the hope swelling in her chest, "is he…?"
"He walked in the office doors five minutes ago." Naruto confirms. "He has to report to the Kakashi-sensei first, but…"
"Naruto-oji-chan!" Sarada has poked her head into the genkan curiously at the voices in the doorway. She flies at him, and he stoops to catch her. "Mama was trying to make me go to bed." The little girl stage-whispers at him.
Sakura is in too much shock to pay attention to them, trying to fight every impulse she has to fly to the Hokage's office. She tells herself that he'll be home soon. She can't leave Sarada behind. That would be irresponsible.
"Sakura-chan." Naruto puts a hand on her shoulder, shaking her out of her thoughts. "Go, I'll watch Sarada-chan for a little."
She's gone before he finishes.
Sarada leans out the door to watch her mother's retreating form leap across the rooftops, eyes wide. "Naruto-oji-chan, is Mama okay?" She peers back at him. "She didn't even put shoes on."
"Yeah, she's okay." Naruto ruffles her hair, and she giggles even as she bats his hand away in protest. "She's just excited."
"Why?" Sarada blinks up at him, dark eyes filled with curiosity.
Naruto grins, stooping down to pick her up. "You'll see soon. Now, you said it was your bedtime?"
Sakura's hair is wild and windswept, streaming out behind her like a banner as she flies, sock-clad feet slipping here and there on the odd roof tile. She barely notices, eyes on the Hokage Tower in the distance, zeroing in on the open window on the top floor. Kakashi never leaves it open. Ever. Which means he's expecting her.
And then she's crouched in that window, catlike eyes sweeping the room before settling on one particular man.
Her heart turns over in her chest.
He must note the Hokage's attention shifting away from him, because he turns on the spot, and his single visible eye widens at the sight of her. And then she has flown across the room, scattering a stack of paperwork in her haste, but she doesn't care because he's here and her face is buried in his chest and his arm has snaked around her. She trembles in his embrace, but he doesn't say anything. He just tightens his arm when hers snake around his waist.
She wets his shirt with her tears while the two men speak. She's dimly aware that they're going on with their debriefing, carrying on as if there isn't a quietly sobbing woman attached to one of them, and it makes her smile.
"Alright." Kakashi says eventually, leaning forward in his chair. "You'd better take your wife home, Sasuke." His voice is warm, and when Sakura turns her head to peek at him through the curtain of her hair, she can see he's smiling. "Go home. Rest. You're on official leave for the next… I don't know. Three months? At least? Though, you might want to find Sakura a pair of shoes downstairs. I doubt her socks will survive the walk."
"Tch, annoying woman. You couldn't stop to put shoes on?" Sasuke's words are cutting, but the tone is openly affectionate, and warmth blossoms in her chest. "Where's Sarada?"
"At home." She slowly detangles herself from him, and his arm slips from her waist. She can still feel the warmth of it as she peers up into his dark gaze, still so familiar even after nearly three years apart. "Naruto offered to stay with her."
Sasuke nods. "If that's all…" he directs to Kakashi, who shakes his head.
"That will do for now. Anything else you can think of you can write down in your official report." Kakashi waves them off. "Go. Your little girl is waiting."
Sasuke doesn't need to be told twice. He turns and stalks from the room, and—unwilling to let him out of her sight—Sakura follows closely behind. They make a brief stop at the gear station to get a pair of sandals for Sakura on the ground floor before they walk out the front doors.
"Have you eaten?" Sakura asks him, seeing him hesitate. "I've had dinner already, but we can stop and get you something."
He shakes his head. "I just want to see Sarada." He says in a low voice, eyes turned in the direction of their home.
The admission makes her want to sob, and she blinks away tears. Such a thing would never have crossed his lips when they were younger; it was a mark of how far he'd come since he was that sad, angry child that he would say such a thing out loud. "Then let's roof hop." She suggests, squeezing his hand as she moves toward the nearest building.
She keeps pace with him as he leaps from roof to roof, his eyes trained ever forward. She steals glances at him as they travel, and her heart thuds in her mouth; she'd missed him so much.
They land and make the last few feet on the ground, Sakura hurrying up the stairs to open the front door. "Sarada?" She calls as she slips her borrowed sandals off.
Naruto slips into the hall, finger to his lips. "She's asleep." He whispers, coming close. "She tried to wait up, but she crashed about fifteen minutes ago." He grins and clamps a hand down on Sasuke's shoulder. "It's good to see you, Teme."
"Hn."
"Should I tell Hinata you're not coming tomorrow?" Naruto asks Sakura, grinning. He's noticed the red rimming her eyes and the wide smile on her face, and the way she can't stop looking at her husband.
"Yeah. Thanks." Sakura nods. "We'll probably stay in all day." She looks to Sasuke for confirmation.
"What's tomorrow?" He looks down at her, brows furrowed, trying to remember if there's an important date he's forgotten about.
"Nothing important." She slips her hand into his and laces their fingers together. His grip tightens around hers reflexively. "She just invited me to bring Sarada over for a playdate with Boruto. We can reschedule."
"Then, I'll see you." Naruto sweeps past them, bending down to pull his shoes on. When he stands, he pokes a finger into Sasuke's chest. "You have to come over soon though, yeah? Team dinner at my place. I'll drag Sai and Kakashi-sensei over too."
"We haven't been a team for over a decade." Sasuke reminds him, but he doesn't decline.
Naruto waves his hand around. "Details. Call me." He lets himself out the door, and leaves husband and wife in silence.
"Is she still in the same room?" Sasuke asks after a beat. Sakura nods, and they pad silently down the hall and slowly open Sarada's bedroom door. She's breathing evenly in the darkness. Sakura is proud that her little girl is the first among the kids in her social group to sleep without a nightlight.
Sasuke glides over to the bed and sits on the edge as gently as he can manage. She watches from the doorway as he runs his hand over Sarada's dark little head, careful not to wake her, and she feels tears in her eyes again at the look on his face. It's one of such rapt adoration that it breaks her heart, thinking about how she would feel if she'd been forced away from her baby for nearly three years. She couldn't do it. She would not be physically capable.
He sits there for a little while, just staring at their daughter. Then, just as quietly, he stands and pads out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
"She's grown." He says in a low voice.
"It's been a long time." Sakura says gently, reaching up to place her palms on his chest. She can feel his heartbeat through his shirt as he looks down at her intently. She's suddenly aware that they're alone, save for the sleeping little girl on the opposite side of the door, and a blush spreads across her cheeks at the look in his eyes.
He reaches for her, and she presses herself against him eagerly, reaching up at the same time he leans down, and suddenly they're kissing. The world falls away as she clutches at him, barely willing to break apart for air before pressing up to meet his lips again. And then they're stumbling back toward their bedroom, hands tugging at clothing and her lips on his jaw and his lips on her neck, and she whispers that she missed him.
Oh, how she had missed him.
Sakura wakes to a scream the next morning. Her eyes fly open and she's down the hall and standing in Sarada's doorway, eyes sweeping the room, searching for the threat. The loose nightgown she'd pulled on before going to sleep flutters around her thighs.
She finds Sasuke on the edge of the bed, holding their daughter while she sobs, wild and unrestrained, against his chest. The tension in her eases as she drinks in the sight of his face buried in her dark hair; she can hear him murmuring to her—"I'm here. I'm sorry. I'm here."—and her heartbeat returns to normal. Sasuke notices her first, eyes lifting to rest on her. They're almost glassy, though she doubts he'll actually cry.
"Mama!" Sarada turns around when she feels her father pull back. "Mama, Papa's home!"
Sakura smiles, crossing the room and sitting on Sarada's other side. "I know." She says, pressing a kiss to Sarada's forehead. "He came home while you were sleeping." And then, because Sasuke's only arm is wrapped securely around the little girl, Sakura takes it upon herself to reach around them both and crush them into a group hug, giving them a squeeze. "Now, come on. Up and dressed, and then I'll make breakfast."
"Can Papa help me?" Sarada asks, pleading eyes on her mother.
She smiles indulgently. "I thought you wanted to dress yourself?" She had been pitching fits in the mornings for the past few weeks, wanting to choose her own outfits and dress herself.
Sarada lifts her proud little chin. "I don't mind if it's Papa." She declares, and Sakura laughs.
"Well, if it's okay with Papa." She asks him a question with her eyes, and he nods. "Then I suppose I'll go make breakfast." She kisses Sarada's temple again before standing. She looks back over her shoulder once to see Sasuke gravely considering Sarada's closet while the little girl points to the options she wants him to choose between. He must sense her gaze, because he looks at her from the corner of his eye, and his lips twitch into a tiny little smile.
Sarada's excitement is infectious. For the whole morning, everything is Papa this and Papa that. She wants to show him everything; she brings out her favourite books, and her favourite toys, and she tells him all about her friends and how she's going to start at the Academy next year and become a doctor just like Mama. He sits across from her at the table, listening with the same gravity as he would in the Hokage's office while she draws, asking small questions here and there when she mentions a name he's not familiar with—not all of their friends' children had been born yet when he'd left the village, or had been so new that he'd only have heard their names a handful of times before he'd had to go.
Sakura hums to herself in the kitchen after lunch, washing the dishes while Sasuke puts Sarada down for a nap. She's been slowly working up to stopping the naps in preparation for the Academy, but Sarada's excitement has worn her out, and Sakura sighs happily into the quiet.
"She's asleep." Sasuke says when he slips into the room. He looks at the dishes drying in the rack and frowns; if he'd had two arms, Sakura was almost positive he'd have picked up the dish towel and begun to dry them. Instead, he leans against the wall with a hand in his pocket and watches her. "How long has she needed glasses?"
Sakura freezes, soap suds sliding off the plate in her hand. Slowly, carefully, she puts the dish back into the hot water and dries her hands on her apron. "Since about two weeks after you left." She says cautiously, watching his confused frown.
"She wasn't having vision troubles when I last saw her." He says.
"No, she wasn't." She agrees. "It happened… suddenly."
"What did?" There's an edge to his voice that tells her that she'd better not hide anything from him.
Sakura sighs, leaning back against the counter and turning to him fully. She holds her hands behind her and looks up into his face. "Her Papa disappeared." She says gently. "No one could tell her where he went, or when he was coming back. She was… inconsolable." She watches his face morph into shock, and then understanding, and then crushing guilt. He knew, better than anyone, what happened when an Uchiha had an intensely strong emotion reaction. "It's not your fault." She says gently. "You couldn't have predicted it."
He growls, his hand flying up to fist in his hair. "She thought I abandoned her." He hisses into the quiet. "I just left, and the sharingan…"
"It manifested after five days." Sakura reaches out to him, and he jerks away from her. Unperturbed, she reaches up and pulls his arm down. "She couldn't control it, and no one knew how to help her. It was active for a week." She steps further into his personal bubble, and peers up into his mismatched eyes. "She developed a high fever from the chakra exhaustion. When she woke up it was gone, but her vision was damaged beyond repair. She'll need glasses for the rest of her life."
He snarls and pushes her away, stalking out of the kitchen and out the back door. She flies after him and grabs him by the arm, feeling his quivering. He's angry, so angry, but at himself, not her.
"It's not your fault." She tells him sternly. "You had to go. There was no way we could have risked another incident like Kaguya."
"Don't you dare," he snarls, "tell me that it's not my fault." He rips his arm out of her hold, and begins to pace in agitation. "I should have known." His hisses. "I should have waited until she was older and could understand. I hurt her, and—"
"And now you have the chance to make up for it." Sakura tells him firmly. She doesn't reach out for him again. "She's so young, Sasuke, and so happy you're home. When she's older, she'll barely remember the time you weren't here."
"And when she asks why she needs glasses and we don't?" He stops his pacing, but he refuses to look at her.
Sakura sighs. "Then we'll tell her the truth. She's a smart kid, Sasuke. When she's old enough, she'll understand." Cautiously, she reaches out and grasps the loose fabric on the back of his shirt. "Please, don't be angry when she wakes up." She whispers to his back. "You've only just gotten home, and…"
She hears him sigh. "I need a few minutes." He finally says after a moment, and she slowly lets go of him. "I'll be back before she wakes up."
She lets him leave the yard, tearing off toward the copse of trees just beyond the walls of the village. Sighing, she goes back indoors to finish her dishes.
He returns half an hour later. His clothing is filthy and his hand is bleeding, and she bites back a sob as she tenderly washes the broken knuckles under the faucet. If she has to guess, based on the bark in the grazes, he's spent the past twenty minutes or so punching a tree somewhere.
"Do you feel better?" She asks gently as she heals the fractures. When she's done, he takes his hand back and flexes his fingers experimentally.
"Yeah." His voice is hoarse, and she wonders if he has been screaming. "I should… take a bath." He says slowly, rising.
"Okay." She presses her lips into a line and watches him. She wants to ask if she can join him—she still hasn't bathed since the previous morning—but thinks that maybe he needs more time alone. But when he stops in the doorway and reaches his hand out to her, she takes it with a smile.
She feels like she's floating as he leads her through the house and into the bathroom. She fiddles with the taps in the tub while he strips himself off, tossing his clothing into the hamper before settling on the bathing stool. They have a traditional bathroom—he reaches for the washing bucket and extendable showerhead as she strips and stands in front of him with a cheeky smile.
She's not expecting him to accidentally spray her with the water, and she yelps at the cold.
"Oooh, that's it!" She declares, laughing, reaching for the showerhead. Since she's standing, she's at an advantage, but as soon as she closes her fingers around it, he pulls her onto his lap.
Despite the fact that they're both naked, the kiss he gives her is chaste and sweet. She sighs happily against his mouth as she shifts to get comfortable on his knees, and rests her head on his shoulder when the kiss ends. She can feel his heart beating, steady and relaxed, under her hand as they wait for the tub to fill.
"Don't let me hurt her again." He whispers against her hair, sounding small and desperate.
"Anata, you're her father, no matter how long you've been away." She chides softly, pressing her lips to his jaw. "You'd move mountains for her, if you could. I don't think you're capable of intentionally hurting her."
His grip tightens on her hip. "I wasn't talking about intentionally."
She presses herself tighter against him. "Everything will be okay." She reaches up to brush his hair out of his face. The rinnegan peers at her. It's proof, she thinks. Proof that he's a good man; a hero. Proof that he will make sure the world they live in is safe as can be, and that he will look after them until his last breath. "I promise."