Birthday

"Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun!"

Sasuke awoke to find his wife Sakura above him as she smiled. Her emerald eyes shone and the smile that she had was as pure as the happiness he felt in his heart. The raven-haired man replied a quiet good morning to her before giving her a small kiss. Her lips, warm and gentle, pressed against his own softy, and he cupped her cheek with his hand, allowing her beautiful hands to entangle in his hair. He pulled away, albeit reluctantly, and softly tapped Sakura on the forehead. "Mata kondo da," he whispered to her with a small smile as his wife blushed.

He allowed his hands to entangle in Sakura's hair, stroking her pink strands for a moment before pushing himself up. He would not allow his eyes to wander when he told Sakura that he would be in the shower. As the shower run with hot water bathing on his neck, Sasuke thought of how the dobe would have a laugh if he had heard of how his two teammates were as shy as teenagers when it came to love. Sasuke was shy when it came to affection, and it was usually Sakura who initiated the affection. But he never doubted he loved his wife. For she was like the warm sunshine in the spring, melting the darkness away.

Sasuke remembered of how she had first attempted to give him a birthday present, a cake filled with sweetness and sugar. It had been found on his doorstep with Sakura's neat handwriting, and Sasuke had paused for a moment before picking it up to throw it away. Fortunately or unfortunately, Kakashi had been there, and had kindly suggested he share the cake with him. The two had an extensive training session that day, and Sasuke was able to stomach the terrible sweetness in his mouth. It seemed later that Sakura found out that he did not like sweets, for years after, when he had turned eighteen, she had simply smiled and handed him a small gift. "A seed," she had explained gently to him as he looked at her through his mismatched eyes.

"A tomato seed. I know you like them, so…" Unbeknownst to her, Sasuke had planted the seeds, and had watched tenderly as sprouts started to grow lush green and then small green balls started to appear. He had never told her about the tomato plant, but the dope must have told her about it, for the tomato plant was waiting for him, red and healthy as it hung from its vines when he had returned. Sasuke had not told her of how that was how he first fell in love with her. He had met her again one day after he had returned, wanting to see her. Sasuke remembered of how she had dropped all the medical textbooks she was carrying and hurried to embrace him.

For some reason, he didn't mind.

It took him only a moment that he had never minded Sakura's touch.

Now as he heard his wife hum as she cooked, Sasuke had wondered briefly if his family would have been happy for him. His mother and brother would have, but would his father have accepted that his youngest son's wife was from outside the clan, and that her parents were not shinobi? Sasuke would never know. He remembered visiting their graves, a separate plot in Konoha Cemetery, shortly after he had left the village for his journey.

He could still see their names, and wondered if they would have been proud of him. He had taken Sakura to the crematory, and had said no words as she slowly placed a flower on each grave – a daffodil, he remembered. It had been early spring, with the leaves falling in the breeze, and that was the night when Sasuke asked Sakura to marry him. He remembered of how calmly she had answered him, of the pure love in her eyes when she said yes. There were no tears, as he had expected. He had erroneously confided in the dobe, and he had been no help when he had said that Hinata had shed tears when he had proposed.

Sai – his replacement – had only smiled widely at him and told him that it would be okay because he always had the uncanny ability to make Ugly cry. Sasuke would not answer Sakura when she had inquired why Sai had serious burns and several fractured ribs and bones when he was admitted to the hospital late in the afternoon. Sasuke had always been grateful for his wife. There were times when he still woke up from nightmares, either about the massacre or his brother, crying out and unable to speak. Sakura simply let him rest, mindful of his silence, or allowing him to weep into her shoulder. During the past years, the celebration – what the dope called it – of his birthday had gotten better since the war had ended. In the past, birthdays had always been overshadowed by the fact that he had allowed another year to die and for him not to yet be strong enough to kill his brother, and then, vengeance had shattered any meaning to the date of his birth. When he had been eighteen, Sasuke had been stunned when the dope and his former squad had met him by the same training ground they had first fought Kakashi, and brought him something. Sakura's gift never was lost to him, however, and he noted – except for his nineteenth – that Sakura was beside him every year he aged. He smiled at her as she lowered the cup of rice beside him, and set small tomatoes on the dish with a side of fresh fish. Sasuke watched as his wife set her own plate, and they both whispered "ittadakimasu" before eating.

"Thank you, Sakura." Sasuke said.

"Huh?" Sakura had a grain of rice on her lip, and she looked at him with her mouth full as he spoke gently to her, love seeping through his tone.

"Out of all the birthdays I have had with you…this one is the best," he confessed slowly, looking her in her beautiful eyes, "because it is just the two of us."

Her smile was all the answer he needed.