I've really wanted to start an anthology series based on a theme so… After countless ideas typed out in my phone, this came. Also, this will be my breather from the stories I'm writing because an author needs a break sometimes. =)

Enjoy.

Read and Review. It'll make my day.

XX

The Uchihas on Parenting-Chapter 1: How it's made: "Tou-san, how is ramen made?" He smirked and patted his son's head. "How is ice cream made?" Kids were cute; so filled with innocent curiosity—asking questions here and there about regular items. Heh, he couldn't wait until they discovered ninja tools. "Tou-san? How was I made?" Ok, he took it back, he hated kids, even if this one was his.

XX

The front door to their bedroom creaked open early in the morning, letting in a few streaks of bright light from the outside of the dark master's bedroom. The beams of light cast a subtle glow around the darkly painted room, rousing its inhabitants from their deep sleep. Sasuke's eye snapped open and he moved his arm quickly; snatching a kunai from under his pillow when a light hand stopped him; giving his forearm a squeeze. "It's probably Daisuke." A feminine voice mumbled sleepily. He heard her shift in her side,

A rustle of blankets filled the room. Sakura flipped to face her husband and gave him a smile. "Hey." She greeted the man with the tousled hair next her and letting Sasuke pull her to him. "Hey." He mumbled, putting his face in between her shoulder and the crook of Sakura's neck.

Suddenly, a weight pressed down on the bed and Sasuke let out a short breath of laughter. "He's taking this ninja thing seriously at such a young age." Ever since Daisuke found out about the Ninja Academy from his uncle Naruto a few weeks ago, he's been "ninja-ing" his way around the house non-stop. It was the cutest thing ever until you accidentally stepped on one of his traps wherein you end up in a tangle of yarn and string—that wasn't cute.

Sakura raised a brow at him her expression was both condescending and amused. "Like that's a problem for you." she smirked and pulled away slightly to give him a pointed glance. "You were the one who wanted to give him a dull-tipped kunai for his first birthday." Sasuke shrugged and pulled her closer again. "The kid needs to get used to the weight of the weapon."

"At the age of one?"

"The sooner the better." Sasuke was already thinking of starting Daisuke's training once he turned three this year. He stole a glance at his son who was trying his hardest to sneak up on his parents, a determined look set in the child's obsidian orbs.

Besides, Daisuke seemed into the whole aspect of being a ninja—he wouldn't mind training in lieu of walks in the park.

"We're not cutting off his playtime." Sakura whispered, as if reading his thoughts. Sasuke tightened his hold around her and grumbled in annoyance at her lacklustre views on the early training of their child. Did the pressures of being the son of a mega couple not occur to her? And Daisuke was not only their kid, he was also the team's kid. Team Seven— Power was what they were known for—what their team was known for. And Daisuke was the first kid born into team seven; the first descendant.

That meant that Daisuke would be trained early anyway by his eager uncles and he'd be damned if his son would end up—

"Kagebunshin no jutsu!" a small voice yelled, a child of no older than two landed on Sasuke's side. The older male gave Sakura a scolding look. "Naruto's already started. At this rate, he'll have him learning the Rasengan before I even introduce a fire jutsu." He complained to his wife who rolled her eyes.

"He's excited, Sasuke-kun. He's our fist kid—Team seven's first kid." Sasuke scoffed and grabbed his son, he flipped to his back to look at his son with pride. "He and the Hyuga should hurry up then. This kid is mine."

Daisuke smirked. "Kami-sama! He has your smirk!" Sakura cooed, pinching her son's cheeks and grinning. "But you've got kaa-san's charming attitude, don't you? Huh? Don't you?" Sasuke snorted. He hoped not. Sakura's temper was something he didn't want Daisuke to have inherited. Dealing with a temperamental teenager in the future was not something he was looking forward to.

"Kaa-san! You didn't see me, didn't you?" The child in Sasuke's grip laughed happily. "Nope, I couldn't sense your chakra at all."

Daisuke smirked again. "Naruto-ji told me I was powerful." His chest puffed with pride and Sasuke couldn't help but feel a bubble of warmth begin to spread through his being at the sight of his beautiful son.

"Of course you are." Sasuke stated proudly, giving his son a smile before turning to Sakura who had begun getting out of bed. He stretched his arm out and grabbed her wrist before she could slip out the bed. She turned to look at him, her pink hair flying as she whipped her head to the side. "I'm needed at the hospital." She grinned sheepishly at her two boys and proceeded to slip out of the bed.

Sakura had a blanket covering herself, Sasuke eyed her playfully earning glare from his wife whose face began to bloom red. She made a gesture for him to turn around so she could slip on his shirt that lay discarded on the floor.

He rolled his eyes but complied. Sasuke's eyes drifted to his son's. "I'm off today, what do you want to do?" he asked the young boy who was seated on his stomach. Said boy looked thoughtful, his lower lip jutting out while he processed his father's question before coming to look at Sasuke with a smile tugging at his features.

"Naruto-ji!" the little boy exclaimed excitedly. His eyes sparkling when he pictured his bright-haired Oji-san grinning at him and making funny faces. Sasuke looked alarmingly at Sakura who was already in her black shorts and navy long-sleeved shirt that he had convinced her to ditch the red top for. "He's beginning to like the dobe more than his own father."

"Dobe?" Daisuke echoed.

Sakura looked horrified. Their son could more or less talk and use simple words unlike most kids his age but he was still far from normal speech and would still echo what he hears. Dobe was something she didn't want him learning.

Sasuke on the other hand nodded at his child in approval. "Yes, I like you." he stated, hugging the confused child gently before releasing him. "You have to like him, he's ours for 18 years." Sakura mentioned, tugging her knee-high ninja sandals on and walking to the males.

"Ok, I'll see you guys later. Tou-san will fix you breakfast, suke-kun because Kaa-san is late for her shift." She bent down to kiss her little tyke on the forehead and then moved to Sasuke. Sakura leaned in for a chaste kiss on the lips but Sasuke had other plans: he met her halfway; lifting his head up when she lowered hers and put a hand behind her head; deepening the kiss, making it last a few more seconds before he released her.

The shocked rosette blushed slightly while Sasuke smirked. "You're late Uchiha Sakura, get going." With one more wave at the two, Sakura bounded out the door, leaving the other two alone to fend for themselves until she came home.

Sasuke and Daisuke stared at each other, both not really sure what to do. Sasuke had never handled Daisuke alone before due to constant missions and ANBU paperwork. Being Head ANBU captain took dedication and sacrifice. Though he made sure to spend time with his family, there was never a circumstance wherein he had ended up alone with their first born son.

"Tou-san." The toddler drawled in what Sasuke perceived to be annoyance. The Uchiha patriarch gazed at his offspring. Daisuke had a small frown forming and his eyes that looked so much like his father's held the tone of impatience—yes, this was definitely his kid.

In a sudden burst of movement, Sasuke sat up, swinging Daisuke along as he bounded out of his previous position. He sat on the edge of the bed, with the young Uchiha in one arm while his free hand ran through his spiky locks sleepily.

"Breakfast…"

He got up from the bed and walked out the room, toddler in tow.

After a failed breakfast which mainly consisted of food getting thrown at his face and a wrestling match between him and his two year old son, Sasuke was ready to go bed again. He eyed his son warily while the little boy ate a rice-ball, his face a mess of rice and fish while he chomped away his breakfast.

With a groan, Sasuke ruffled his hair and stared down a passer-by who dared give him a weird look. There was absolutely nothing wrong with a man and a child eating at a small shop at seven in the morning. And it was definitely not weird that Sasuke's favorite dark shirt was stained with food and his shorts, that he loved so dearly, splattered with juice.

Another sigh escaped his mouth. He'd come home cleaner from any S-rank mission he's ever been on. His self-pity ended abruptly when Daisuke tugged at the hem of Sasuke's shirt. The young father looked at his son with a raised brow.

"Tou-san! How are riceballs made?" the boy inquired lightly, rolling the food item between his two small hands and grinning at the squishy sound they made. Obsidian orbs rolled. Daisuke was in his questioning stage quite early. Most children his age couldn't even talk. And there he was, asking question after question, after question.

Ithad started earlier in the week when Sakura read to him about how noodles were made, after that, it all went downhill. Not a day went by without Daisuke asking a question about how a certain thing came to be. Sometimes, he didn't even have to voice out the question; he's just hold out the item and give either him or Sakura a look that screamed. 'Tell me how it's made'

Sasuke, who'd prided himself in his intellect though not as highly acclaimed as Sakura's, had to even research for some of the answers to Daisuke's inquiries. After all, how an x-ray machine was made was not common knowledge and his son was not satisfied with the answer: 'they put circuits and wires in a box'

The Uchiha waved his arm lazily to grab the chef's attention. The little old man quickly arrived in front of him, a nice and warm smiled etched on his face. "May I help you, Uchiha-san?" he asked politely, bowing at his costumer.

Sasuke gestured to his son with a sweep of his arm. "Daisuke, what did you want to know?" he prodded his son who'd begun slamming the riceballs onto the counter creating mounds of sticky rice on the once pristine polished wood table. He could see the chef wince a little at the mess he'd probably have to clean up later. Sasuke felt for him, rice was hard to clean and smashed rice was even harder to clean. He knew because he had first-hand experience.

At the slight prod from his father, Daisuke abandoned his riceball massacre, putting the chef and Sasuke at ease, to look at the kind-faced old man. "How are rice balls made?" he wanted to know how such an amazing dish was made—how did the fish get inside? Why were there vegetables in it? Questions swarmed his head like insects and he couldn't help but let the curiosity get the best of him. "Can you teach me?" he asked loudly, jumping on his stool and leaning on the glass that acted as a small and short barrier between the counters and the inside of the small stall.

"Daisuke," Sasuke was about to pull down his son and lecture him when the old man stopped him and offered him a smile. "I don't see why not. Why don't you come in for a few minutes." His suggestion was a question in disguise directed at Sasuke. The shop owner gazed at the Uchiha expectantly and eventually he gave in.

"Hn, ten minutes." He mumbled.

Daisuke laughed happily and leapt over the glass and into the old man's arms. "Riceballs!" he yelled. "Daisuke…" Sasuke growled, fearing for the old man's back and his son's safety. This boy was too fired up for his own good he thought with a frown. There was no doubt that there was a lot of Sakura in the kid.

"Pink-haired fireball disguised as a mini-me." He grumbled, taking the first bite out of his onigiri.

Twenty minutes later, Daisuke emerged from the kitchen looking accomplished and proud of his handiwork. He had in his arms, a box of the riceballs he made and he handed them to his father who'd set down the menu that he'd read at least thirty times while waiting for his son to finish.

"Tou-san! Look! I made them!" he said while presenting Sasuke the box. "That's my boy." Sasuke said while ruffling the youngster's spiky hair. His head lifted to meet the elderly chef's face, Sasuke sent him an appreciative glance and took his wallet out to pay for their meals and the riceball making lesson.

The chef however pushed the payment back. "No, No, Uchiha-san. It was my pleasure."

Daisuke smiled. "Thank you, chef-sama-kun!" he exclaimed, earning a groan from his father and an amused chuckle from the chef. "Come back soon, little one."

"Oh, boy…" Sasuke muttered under his breath. Why did he have a feeling that his son's relationship with riceballs and this store would rival Naruto's penchant for Ichiraku's ramen.

"Tou-san! How is ice cream made?" a childish voice pierce through his wall of thoughts. Sasuke cracked his eyes open and slid his gaze to his son who was staring out at a small ice cream cart. After breakfast, they found themselves wandering around aimlessly when the tyke had decided that he wanted to go the park.

And so they did.

Ice cream. Of all the things that he could ask about, he chose ice cream. Granted he was a child, but really….ice cream? "It's milk, sugar, cream and a certain flavour mixed and churned together." He explained briefly, using hand gestures as he spoke. "Then it's frozen." Sasuke finished and settled back down on the bench's back rest.

Daisuke nodded as he absorbed the information given to him by his all-knowing father. With a grin, he switched his gaze from the cart to the balloon that was seemingly stuck on one of the trees. Instantly, questions began to filter into his brain as he took in the sight of the big red balloon. "Tou-san, how are balloons made?"

When parents say they loved hearing their kid's voice, they clearly didn't have them asking a question every ten seconds. "It's rubber or latex that's filled with helium." The toddler's face was schooled into a mask of confusion. "What's helium?"

"You'll know when you're older." Sasuke smirked inwardly. He had been dying to say that.

"Tou-san, how was—

Sasuke gazed at Daisuke seriously. "Suke, quiet time."

With a smirk of triumph on his lips, Uchiha Sasuke relaxed and let his gaze wander around the park, enjoying the peacefulness and fresh air when he felt another tug at his shirt. Daisuke was standing on the bench and looking at his face.

"Tou-san," he began in a whisper, he little chubby face, a splitting image of him, looked so innocent. "how are benches made?"

Clearly he'd have to think of a better excuse next time.

Sasuke abandoned the park; it had too many items for his son to ask about so after spending a total of ten minutes there, he grabbed his son and led him to a different place: the bookstore. He figured reading would put Daisuke whirring mind at ease—the words and pictures would distract him and let the boy ponder quietly to himself while Sasuke could sit back and read the paper.

Boy, was he wrong.

Well he didn't realize he was wrong until later. As soon as the pair walked in, Daisuke made a mad dash to the children's section, dragging Sasuke who only had enough time to grab a newspaper from one of the stacks near the door.

Upon reaching the section, Sasuke handed his son three books to read and had finally gotten the peace he'd wanted all morning. In fact, half an hour had gone by without a work from Daisuke. He just sat there, Indian style with a book on his little lap as he poured over the contents though he couldn't exactly read.

Sasuke was about to call it a victory when a small shadow cast over his face. He lowered his paper to stare at his son questioningly expecting to be asked to reach for a few more books for Daisuke to read. But alas, instead of asking for more books, Daisuke held up the book he'd been reading and pointed at a picture of a huge clay pot.

"How are pots made?" he'd asked a defeated Sasuke. He was about to open his mouth to explain when Daisuke flipped the page to reveal a man sitting on a chair. "Tou-san, how are chairs made?"

"Oh never mind. How are lamps made?"

"How are—

Sasuke cut off his son's ramble. "Do you want to visit Naruto Oji-san?" he asked in a desperate attempt to quiet the child. If there was one person that could keep up with kids, it was Naruto since technically, he was one himself.

Daisuke dropped the question at the mention of his uncle's name. He nodded vigorously and jumped. "Yay! Naruto-ji!" he took his father's hand and ran out of the bookstore.

The Uzumaki household looked quiet and still. A huge coy pond surrounded the front of the house; a wide wooden bridge that arched was the only way to get from the gate to the other side. Daisuke bounded across the bridge, followed hastily by a worried Sasuke. Because with a kid like Daisuke, he'd probably wonder what it was like to be a fish and jump into the pond.

The Uchihas reached the other side and after much nagging and prodding from the youngest of the two, Sasuke finally rapped on the knocker. The door swung open revealing a dark haired woman with extremely light eyes clad in a dark blue yukata with a lavender obi. Hinata must've been off too and was visiting Naruto. "Sasuke-san!" Hinata greeted in surprise. Sasuke couldn't blame her, their visit was quite unexpected.

"Hina-chan! Who is it?" A loud voice echoed from the inside of the house. Hinata opened the door wider so Sasuke could see Naruto in his usual black and orange combo approach the door in excitement. "If it's baa-chan, tell her that this house is awesome and that—TEME!" he greeted warmly when he saw his team mate standing outside.

"Come in, Come in!" he gestured to father and son to enter his home. "Oi, Suke! How're you?" The little boy ran up to hug him. Naruto bent down to scoop the child up into his arms and throw him up in the air. Daisuke cried in delight as he was continuously tossed up in the air by the blonde man. "Not bad eh, teme?" he asked in between tosses, gesturing to his house with jerk of his head.

Sasuke's gaze swept through the living room and to the stairs. "Two-storeys, three baths and four rooms plus a master bedroom." Naruto narrated. Sasuke smirked. "A little big for just you, don't you think?"

Naruto's eyes landed on Hinata for a moment before he turned to wink at Sasuke. "I'm working on filling it up." Hinata blushed and studied the wooden floor beneath her as if it held all of life's answers.

"Marry her first, dobe."

Naruto rolled his eyes. "We're getting there." He set Daisuke down gently and grinned at HInata. "Aren't we,Hina-chan?" he asked fondly, walking over to where she stood and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, giving a tight squeeze before letting go.

"Naruto-ji! Naruto-ji!" Daisuke hollered, he'd walked over to a small statue of ramen that was perched on a side table next to the couch. Amused blue eyes followed the boy's gaze to the ramen sculpture. "How is ramen made?"

Sasuke smirked and leaned against the wall. "Hn. Enjoy, dobe."

"Well, Daisuke… there is a magical land that grows noodles on trees, has rivers of broths and grew bushes that bore all the topping you want," Naruto started, walking over to the intrigued boy and making wild hand gestures as he spoke. "But only a man named Teuchi and his daughter Ayame could enter and use the ingredients that this land produced."

Sasuke looked at Hinata who smiled apologetically. "How does he explain milk? That it is of the divine river of Kami herself?" Hinate giggled. "You're as good as Naruto-kun, Sasuke-san."

He shrugged and smirked. "I'm married to Sakura, what do you expect?"

Hinata used her head to gesture to Daisuke who'd moved on from the ramen statue to one of Naruto's 'orange' books that the blonde was desperately trying to hide. "I expected that."

"Teme! Help me!" Naruto bellowed from the top of the stairs where Daisuke was attempting to slide down from banister. "What do you feed this kid?" he asked in exasperation as he tried to pry the boy off the precarious banister lest he fall and break his neck which would lead his father to slide a sword through the blonde's stomach for not stopping the child.

"Go ahead, Sasuke-san." Hinata looked up at Daisuke worriedly. "At this rate, it looks like Naruto will need the saving."

"Teme! Take him, take him, take him!" As soon as Sasuke reached to top of the stairs, Naruto handed Daisuke to him and collapsed on the floor. "Teme, this kid almost gave me a heart attack…"

Daisuke who'd been oblivious to the commotion he had caused, looked up at Sasuke with his big and wide inky black eyes. "Tou-san, how is a heart attack made?"

The older Uchiha shook his head and set his child down on the ground. "Having a kid."

Their visit with Naruto lasted the whole day. They had lunch with the blonde and his girlfriend. Played some games and answered questions. A lot of questions.

Soon, it grew dark and Hinata had to leave for a family dinner. The two Uchihas stayed a while longer with the soon-to-be Hokage. Naruto and Sasuke discussed missions and training while Daisuke played around the house, coming up to them ever so often to ask about how a certain thing was made.

At nine in the evening, Sasuke finally convinced his little one that they would come and visit Naruto next time but for now they needed to go home. Daisuke fought against leaving but after a few calming words from Naruto and a promise that he could come any time, the boy finally agreed to leave with his father. Sasuke had told Naruto that he too could visit anytime—Sakura loved having the blonde around even if it was just a quick visit.

Now, after their long day, they were in Sasuke's study/office where he did his paper work and read files. They were seated on the left side of the room where the bookcases and plush chairs were. Sasuke was perched on a chair while the youngster was on the floor, playing with a toy train that they bought on the way home.

"Tou-san?" Daisuke called from the floor. Sasuke set his files on the arm rest of his chair and glanced at his son. "Hn"

Daisuke looked thoughtful before he voiced his question. "How was I made?" the question caught the young father off guard and he stumbled and struggled for a way to answer his question. He took a gulp of air before squaring his shoulders and opening his mouth to speak, he tried his hardest to keep his gaze locked on his son's eyes despite the strong urge to want to avoid it.

How the fuck was he going to explain how he was conceived?

"Well it's different for every person." Sasuke began awkwardly. Beads of sweat began gathering on his forehead as the question weighed on him like a ton of bricks. How was it that a simple question could have this effect on him? He'd faced interrogations so brutal that it drove many men insane and still kept his calm façade. But this, this question from his two year old son, had him fretting to near exhaustion.

The Uchiha blinked rapidly and swallowed hard. You know what? Screw it. The truth shall set you free. "You see son, your mom and I did it this way: it was in this room and on that very table." He pointed to a heavy mahogany desk at the center of the room, pushed back against the wall.

"That was where I bang-

Sakura who'd arrived just in time, slapped a hand over his mouth painfully, the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the room. She was wild eyed; her usually calm green eyes were panic-stricken. The rosette looked at her husband like her was insane. Because well… He was.

"He's fucking two years old!"

The young boy smiled at them toothily. "Fucking?" Sasuke who'd been poised to retort with a scathing remark, stopped midway and let his eyes travel to Daisuke who looked like he like the feel of the word. "Fucking." He repeated only this time louder.

Sakura blanched and Sasuke smirked. "That, son, is how babies are—

"Uchiha Sasuke, SHUT UP."

Sakura began pacing back and forth, her pink hair swaying as she moved her head from side to side; glancing at Sasuke and to Daisuke. "You have the Mangekyou… it's stronger than the normal one. Use it—change his memory, recreate it, edit it—DO SOMETHING."

"Sakura, he's a kid. He'll forget it sooner or later." Sakura glared at him with a ferocity that could scare away the most hardened criminals. "He might not."

"He wi—

"Tou-san, how is a Mangekyou made?"

It was an automatic answer for Sasuke. He'd had people lecturing and asking him about for so long that it was ingrained in his mind to give the same answer over and over again. And so, without thinking and forgetting who he was talking to, he began explaining.

"You have to ki—

Sakura threw a book at him, a heavy one at that. Sasuke barely escaped a concussion, ducking his head onlyseconds before the book sailed across the room and hit the spot of the chair where his head had been leaning on only moments ago.

Cold eyes pierces Sakura's green angry ones until Sasuke understood why she'd thrown a book at him. Well technically a book was uncalled for but he got why she had been agitated. He was just about to explain the cruel process of getting the Mangekyou to their two year old son. Sakura walked over to Daisuke and picked him up.

"Bath time!" she exclaimed, earning a scowl from her son. Sakura laughed and walked out of the room with a writhing Daisuke who, like any other kid, hated baths.

Once his wife left the room, Sasuke sunk back into his chair and let his eyes fall shut tiredly. "Naruto and Hinate should take their time." He mumbled.

LOVE IT?

HATE IT?

REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW.

Written at 2 am, sorry for typos.