Disclaimer: Randomly got this idea while doing laundry. Weird, eh?
Mikoto turned around from the kitchen sink to see her youngest son running towards her. She dried her hand on her apron and smoothed Sasuke's ruffled black hair down, then planted a kiss on his forehead.
Five year old Sasuke looked deeply perturbed, the small beginnings of a worry line creasing his face. Mikoto smiled reassuringly.
"Mama, do you think pink is a pretty color?" Mikoto look momentarily surprised, half expecting Sasuke to complain that Itachi had flicked him again, but she quickly masked her initial feelings and nodded cheerfully. Sasuke smiled and wiggled out of her arms, spinning away to run out the door.
"Thanks Mama, I'll see you after school!" He grabbed a tomato off the table and sprinted towards the Academy. Mikoto smiled to herself and turned back to her work. Kids.
The next day, around lunch time, Sasuke burst into the house, gave his mother a hug, and immediately asked her if she thought yellow was prettier than pink. She chose her words carefully, but the only thing Sasuke understood from their conversation was that his mommy liked pink more than yellow. And that was enough for him, and so he ran out the door, once again.
That was a day that Sasuke told Ino he didn't want to be her boyfriend, and that was the day she hit him on the head with her lunchbox and burst into tears. It was also the first day that Ino Yamanaka ran into the bathroom crying, only to be coaxed out by Chouji Akimichi and his best friend, Shikamaru Nara. She brushed away her tears and let Kiba Inuzuka give her a hug, and a lick from his new puppy, Akamaru.
A few months later, Sasuke came running into the kitchen and grabbed a tomato from the bowl in the fridge. He sat down, munching reflectively and his mother soon joined him, looking extremely amused.
"Mama, is pink still your favorite color?" His mother nodded and bit back her growing smile.
"Do you think pink is prettier than white?" She nodded again. Sasuke popped the last of the tomato into his mouth, and kissed Mikoto on the cheek, then dashed out the door, almost running over his father.
Fugaku shook his head, and after a quick lecture to Sasuke, he stepped in and wrapped an arm around Mikoto.
"Where on earth is that boy going?" Mikoto laughed liltingly. Boys were all so silly, especially about girls.
"Oh, he's just going to get a girlfriend."
That was the day Sasuke Uchiha could be seen pulling Hinata Hyuuga towards the swing by the Academy, and shaking his head. He pointed a few times to the resident orphan, and Hinata nodded shakily, her soft white eyes a little teary. He gave her a quick hug, and darted away, before anyone could see him.
That was the day Kiba Inuzuka and Shino Aburame pulled Hinata out from under the classroom steps. That was the day Naruto Uzumaki first gave her a hug, and the first day he ever tried to beat Sasuke Uchiha in anything. And Sasuke smiled, and stared at the hair of the girl sitting in front of him.
A few months later, Sasuke and his family attended an Academy fundraiser, where several students gave demonstrations of their very best skills. They showed Itachi performing his best fire jutsu, a Hyuuga boy displaying his Gentle Fist and reducing a training dummy to bits, and a girl that threw three hundred weapons and never missed once. He tugged anxiously on his mother's sleeve.
"Did you see that girl? Did you see her?" Mikoto nodded and leaned down to whisper into his ear.
"Brown is a very pretty color, but, you know, my favorite will always be pink." Sasuke's eyes widened in understanding and for the rest of the show he concentrated very dutifully on his brother roasting hamburgers for crowds of people. And Mikoto smiled.
That was the day Sasuke Uchiha didn't bring candy to TenTen's house, and she threw a barrage of kunai at his running back, shearing off a few locks of hair. That was the day Rock Lee and Neji Hyuuga walked with her for two hours, talking about how they were going to beat every team that dared to challenge them.
That was the day that Mikoto took her family to get ramen at the Ichiraku ramen stand, and when the old man offered them dessert, Sasuke requested watermelon, instead of lemon-lime. And Mikoto and her husband exchanged knowing glances.
That was the year Sasuke watched his family get murdered by his older brother. That was the year he decided that he didn't like any colors at all. That was the year he went through his mother's things and found none of her clothes had any yellow, white, or brown. But there was a lot of pink.
When Sasuke's entire family, or at least, the gross majority of it was buried, the funeral directors asked what they should bury his parents in. On the day of the Uchiha mass funeral, all one hundred and twenty members were buried with closed caskets. Inside, all the bodies were wrapped with pink, linen sheets. And Sasuke smiled.
That night, Sasuke stayed awake until sunrise, painting all the bedrooms in his house bright pink. The last room he painted was his parent's and he spent another hour painting the ceiling. When he finished, he walked slowly to his brother's room and flung the dark drops of paint across the walls, where they dried, tulip petals speckling over deep ebony.
Three years, to the day, after he was finished painting, Sasuke was assigned to Team Seven, along with a boy that loved yellow and blue, and a girl that was as pink as her name. It didn't seem to be so bad.
Three years, to the day, after he was assigned to Team Seven with the yellow-blue boy and the pink, pink girl, Sasuke returned to Konoha, to his family's graves, and to the rosette. She was his medic. She was everyone's favorite medic.
Three year, to the day, after he returned to Konoha, was treated by everyone's favorite medic, six years, to the day, after he was assigned to Team Seven with the yellow-blue boy and the pink, pink girl, Sasuke opened a velvet box, revealing a ring. The stone was a pink diamond, and it matched the pink, pink girl's hair perfectly.
Three years, to the day, after he proposed to the pink, pink girl, whose hair matched her engagement ring, the thin, wispy tendrils of his daughter's hair were tied into tiny pigtails, and he ruffled them fondly. It was his favorite color.