A woman sat at her desk, her pen moving gracefully across the paper. Her fiery hair was set alight by sun from the open window, which let the summer breeze flow in. Her dark eyes flicked up and down, following her words; her heart on paper. This letter, which she was so intent on writing, started with one word...one name. Sasuke.

Sasuke,
You little brat, you think you can just leave the Village on your own accord, don't you, not to mention you didn't even say goodbye. What were you thinking? In all honesty, I want to say I never should have taken custody over you, but what a big lie that would be. I can't even put into words how much I loved being with you every day, cooking for you, talking to you, hugging you, I loved everything about you even, even your faults. Sure, maybe you were a bit stuck up and moody, but you were still sweet sometimes and caring. If only...if only I could have stopped you and protected you like I promised.

Words...words were my weapon against you, and they proved useless against your thick head. I could never hit you, even when you deserved it, I just couldn't do it, shocking as it is. You were my family, at least, that's what I wanted to believe because you were, no, are much better than my birth family, that bunch of heartless idiots. Do you remember the day the Third put you in my custody; we were both strays without families, except yours died and I pretended like mine did? You cried a lot then, and I would sit on your bed at night, holding you, and I remember thinking, "It's nice to be wanted. It's nice to be needed." As years went by, I was proud how you grew up strong and healthy, but I worried every day that your anger, your hatred, your so called passion, would consume you eventually. I didn't know what do with myself, I didn't know. When I heard you left, I knocked down at least four trees while shouting what an ungrateful brat you were, I'm sure you can picture that, can't you?

Gosh, I can't believe it's been three years already since Naruto came back, and you weren't with him. Years, years Sasuke, of searching, of worrying, of waiting, that's what we all did. Your teammates, your teachers, and your friends agonized and sighed over you. What you did was selfish and stupid, completely and utterly. You want to be strong; I could have helped you because I am a Fire Style user, like yourself. You want to be smart, you should have asked Kakashi for more help, and maybe listened to Sakura more, who, by the way, has is becoming alarmingly skillful, if I say so myself. And if you just wanted someone to talk to, Naruto was, and is, always there for you, he had been since day one! If you only just listened to us! If you only just listened, Sasuke! You little...y-you little brat. If you listened when I said, "It sucks being all alone, doesn't it? So let's make a deal, let's stick together and help each other out, and that means you have to stay here.", then...I...I wouldn't feel so heartbroken right now, I wouldn't feel as if my world fell apart, as if the only thing I managed to grasp was taken from me. You of all people should know how much it hurts to lose family.

Oh, Sasuke, what am I going to do with you? Honestly, with you, I always experience something new: happiness, maternal love, devotion, hope, and heartache. I don't know if this will ever reach you, considering I have no idea where you are, but maybe you'll get this someday. Before I end this, I want you to know that I love you, always have and always will, no matter what. Come home soon, you little brat.
All my love, Yuuka

The woman smiled, feelings of happiness flowing through her. She was happy to get her thoughts on paper, and happy that he would read this someday. Her hopeful fire was relit inside her as a wave of determination swept over her, and she left her house, the letter still on her desk, basking in the sun. That was the last time she stepped foot in the house.

A black haired, teenage boy sat in the middle of a dusty townhouse on the floor, a place where he spent 6 years of his life with his guardian, Kagame Yuuka. This woman, this overbearing, emotional woman, who he had loved as much as family was killed in front of his very eyes, and he had done nothing to save her, he just watched. He didn't even deserve to be here, he should have saved her. "Welcome back, you brat, I missed you." Her final words she said after she swore to protect him from any more harm Madara could cause him. It had been what, two weeks since he came back to Konoha, and he hadn't even been to her grave yet, which many people thought insensitive, but he couldn't bring himself to face her. Sighing, he went up the stairs, brushing his fingers across old photos. Yuuka and him as a kid, Yuuka and Naruto, Yuuka and Sakura, Yuuka and Kakashi when they were younger, Yuuka and the Third, Yuuka and Tsunade, Yuuka, Yuuka, Yuuka, even though she was gone, her presence was still here inside this house, as well everywhere in the Village. Her loud voice, her flamboyant attitude and then her motherly attitude, the way she walked, the way she smiled, the way she fought, it all remained somewhere for him to notice. Clenching his hand, he came to a door he was all too familiar with, Yuuka's door. He remembered coming here crying in the middle of the night because of his nightmares, and here Yuuka would pick him up and tuck him in beside her, where he would be embraced by her warmth. Honestly, he believed if he opened the door and called her name, she would appear and wave at him, then say something about like, "How was your day?" or "Learn any new moves yet, Sasuke?" Using all his will power he forced himself to move and open the door into the wide, dusty room. Glancing around, he noticed a window was open...how long had it been that way? Under the open window was her desk where, as Sasuke remembered, Yuuka would sit here and daydream a lot, and he would listen as she told stories about places she travelled before she settled down here. Unlike the past though, there was a letter on the desk, and Yuuka never wrote letters; everyone she cared for was in the Village. Gently, he picked up the letter with Yuuka's surprisingly elegant hand writing and read the letter that was never to be sent. And then…he cried.