Note: This is a Christmas gift for Tink. Hope you like the story!
Disclaimer: I'm almost getting tired of saying this, but… no one except for Kishimoto owns Naruto!
A Christmas Tree for the Uchihas
The small boy stood, nose pressed against the window, awaiting the return of his life idol and brother. His breath misted over the glass, and a smudge of dirt marked where his nose had been. At last! A dark shadow cast upon the gravel road, a silhouette barely visible in the dying light of dusk appeared.
"Brother Itachi!" Sasuke hastily put on his shoes and ran outside to greet the returning shinobi.
"Hey, little brother, why aren't you inside? You might catch a cold from being out here, you know. And what use is a sick shinobi to any of us?"
"Ita-chi…" the younger boy whined, "But I'm not even a shinobi yet, and you haven't taught me anything that you promised to!"
Itachi smiled, his dark eyes sad. "I will when I get a chance to, little Sasuke. I promise!"
"Okay," Sasuke agreed, sighing.
The next day, Sasuke woke up to find Itachi already gone. A trail of footprints led into the woods. Sasuke hastily ate a piece of toast spread with butter for breakfast, pulled on a jacket and sandals, and ran off, following the footprints.
Swings and clangs of a hatchet against wood soon met the boy's ears. He peered around a sycamore tree to see Itachi hard at work, chopping away at a huge, magnificent pine tree.
"What are you doing, brother?" Sasuke asked.
"I'm chopping down our Christmas tree, nothing more. You can run along and play, little Sasuke!"
"Stop calling me little!" Sasuke protested, "And I can help you chop that tree!"
"Alright, Sasuke. Sasuke, not little Sasuke. No, you might get hurt, or get blisters on your hand from tree chopping."
"No I won't!" Sasuke replied hotly, "You'll see, I'll prove to you that I can become a strong shinobi, and I'm not scared of a bit of chopping!"
"Sasuke, in time you'll come help me with chopping our Christmas tree. Maybe in a year or two. But not now."
"T-then, if I can't help, why don't you just use ninjutsu to chop the tree?"
"Father forbids it, he says it will spoil the Christmas atmosphere of Christmas trees if we don't hand-chop it."
"Ita-chi! Then let me help!" So Sasuke picked up a nearby axe, and ran full-out into the pine tree. He hacked furiously at the tree, determination glinting in his round black eyes.
Itachi smiled wearily, pausing for a moment. Maybe this Sasuke indeed had good stamina and strength. Maybe. He took the hatchet firmly in his hand, and again worked to fell the tree.
The sun slowly set, and Mrs. Uchiha's cries could be heard deep into the forest.
"Come in for dinner, boys! Are you done with the Christmas tree?"
Sasuke and his older brother were lying on the soft earth, smelling of pine needles. Next to them lay a felled tree—their own Christmas tree. Sasuke's eyes were half-closed, as he breathed in the sweet smell of winter and nature blended together. He raised a hand above his head, studying his own palm. Red sores and scraped off skin dappled his entire hand. Sasuke moved his legs.
"Owww," he muttered. Even his legs were dead-tired.
"C'mon," Itachi murmured to the boy, "Let's go get some dinner to eat. We'll take in the tree afterwards."
Sasuke sat up, stretched, and attempted to get up onto his feet. Falling over, his face reddened slightly. He pushed off the ground feebly with a blistered hand, then lay back down, cheek pressed against the dark earth.
Itachi glanced down at his younger brother. Then he stooped down and scooped Sasuke up. Slinging him over one shoulder, Itachi walked off to their house.
"Itachi, are you done chopping the—" Their father's sentence stopped abruptly, as he spotted Itachi walking in with Sasuke over his shoulder.
"Sasuke! Itachi, why did you let him help fell the tree? He's too young—too weak!"
"No, Father," was the calm reply, "Sasuke was a great help to me. Nothing would have stopped him from helping, anyways."
Their father sighed. Determination seemed to be a strong trait in the family.
As the family crowded around the dinner table, their father started the conversation.
"I specifically told Itachi not to let Sasuke chop the tree this year, yet Sasuke was allowed to help fell it. Now Sasuke's hands will be useless to any of us for the next few weeks, it's hurt too badly. What should be the punishment for this?"
"Father, it was my fault! I made Brother let me help chop the tree, and wouldn't have it any other way! Punish me for it. And my hands won't be useless to anyone, I can even bring in the Christmas tree myself!" Sasuke spoke up, his voice clear and firm. His small round face was creased with resolution.
Their father looked at him, studying him.
"Fine. Prove that to me, and you'll be allowed to help chop the tree or whatever other household task that you were forbidden to do before. Bring in the Christmas tree—alone."
Sasuke nodded, still firm in his decision.
The next morning's dawn found Sasuke heading off into the woods alone. He had shaken off Itachi's secret offers of help, wanting solely to do it himself.
He found the site of the Christmas tree, and attempted at pushing it. It barely moved. Pulling helped even less.
Sasuke racked his brain for any other way to get the tree back to the house. There must be another way, for their father never assigned any impossible task to a member of his household!
Wheels.
Sasuke remembered seeing their neighbor coming home with many sacks of grain and rice, pulling it all on a red wooden cart just that week! Pulling a tree on it should be no different.
He ran towards their neighbor's farmhouse, waving and panting, asking to borrow the cart and two coils of rope.
Soon he returned to the pine tree, pulling behind him the red cart and rope. He tied a rope around the tree, then lifted it up into the cart. Now that the hard part was done, he lashed one end of the other rope around himself, the other around the cart handle. Now he walked, straining against the rope, and slowly—but surely, the cart wheels creaked and moved forwards. Sasuke walked with all his strength, like an ox pulling a wagon. And the cart rolled behind him, carrying the Christmas tree.
Dusk. And the Christmas tree was safely inside the Uchiha home.
Itachi and his father caught each other's eye, then grinned. They peered inside Sasuke's room, to see the young boy fast asleep on his woven straw mattress, dark hair falling over his closed eyes. A smile curved the boy's rosy lips.