"How did you find these things, Papa?" Sarada asked. Her fingers clinched into fists as she resisted the urge to touch the ancient silk furisode.

"Some I inherited from my clan, like this furisode. Others I purchased on trips," Sasuke answered.

"We have a clan, right? The Uchiha clan?" Sarada asked innocently. Sasuke grimaced.

"We are the last of the Uchiha, Sarada," he answered flatly.

"Oh." She picked up a mother-of-pearl netsuke carved into the shape of a bear. "This one is really pretty."

Sasuke realized he had been holding his breath. He released it slowly, thankful that Sarada had changed the subject. "If you're fond of that one, you can take it," he told her.

Sarada looked at him in shock. "It's… it's really expensive, though, Papa," she said breathlessly.

"It is one of the least expensive items in this part of our inventory," he told her. "It's a small thing, and its value fluctuates with collectors' interest."

He felt a small pang of guilt when she lovingly clutched the little item to her chest. It was easy enough to give Sarada a small item she had liked. He could tell that she regarded it as a treasure, though, not because of its intrinsic value, but because it was a gift from her father. To her, it was proof of her own value. Sasuke still didn't feel the elusive bond of affection for Sarada that he assumed other fathers felt for their children. He felt an obligation towards her, as well as a protective instinct. He found her presence endurable, which was no small thing, but hugs and other physical expressions of affection were not forthcoming. Affection had been a foreign concept to Sasuke for most of his life, and as much as he might like to give Sarada the closeness she desired, he couldn't easily breach the habits of a lifetime of solitude.

The week had passed remarkably easily nonetheless. Sarada proved to be an unobtrusive presence in his life most days; not only that, she had quickly learned everything he taught her about running the store. She had been thrilled to see the inventory he kept locked away: the antique, hand-embroidered silk kimonos, the ancient swords, the delicately carved netsuke… Sasuke discovered that it was not at all troublesome to answer her questions, which were intelligent and articulate.

To his great relief, she seemed equally at ease with long stretches of silence. When their administrative tasks were completed each day, she contented herself with reading quietly. She demanded nothing of him. Ironically, this made it much easier to take her into consideration. They ate lunch together daily, closing the shop down to visit nearby restaurants. They also ate dinner together at the end of each workday. Sarada confided in him that she was pleased that she wouldn't have to resort to one of Sakura's freezer meals.

She did not mention Naruto for several days. Sasuke was tempted to press her for information about him, but given her skills of perception, he feared she might correctly interpret the interest behind them. He had struggled to keep his mind off of Naruto as the week passed. He had begun and deleted at least a dozen messages to him, unsure of how to tell him that he would like to see him again or that he had been on his mind.

He had wished, many times, for Naruto to surprise him by visiting Tomoe again. One night, after dropping Sarada off at her mother's, Sasuke had almost driven back to the disgusting bar where they had met, on the off-chance that Naruto would have the same impulse. He quickly dismissed the idea, driving instead to his apartment, where he started and deleted several texts to the object of his intensifying attraction.

On Saturday, Sarada stayed home with Sakura most of the day, but Sakura, exhausted from a long week of intense work, asked him to please pick up Sarada from her judo class. He steeled himself in preparation for the unwanted advances of the "judo moms," a group of bored housewives, he supposed, who never failed to try to corner him after lessons. He timed his arrivals to coincide with the exact moment when Sarada would be completely finished so they could exit hastily with little interruption.

He inwardly cursed when he noted that Sarada was talking to a classmate. Sasuke slipped in and stood against the dojo as he watched them. The boy seemed arrogant, but he also seemed intent upon impressing something upon Sarada, who seemed to regard him skeptically. The pair was lost to everyone else, completely engrossed in their conversation. The two children were a study in contrasts—Sarada, with her black hair and pale skin, and this blond child, with his rosy skin-tone.

A movement at the door caught the blond boy's eye, and he turned. Sasuke felt a tremor run through his body. At the door stood Naruto; the resemblance was unmistakable, now that he could see the blond child's face. Naruto had another child in his arms, a little girl whose black hair stood in stark contrast to her huge, almond-shaped, clear blue eyes.

He could not make himself move. He watched as Naruto's son strode over to him purposefully. "Dad, I told Sarada that she could come with us for burgers tonight," he said.

Naruto smiled at the boy, then over at Sarada. "Yeah, sure, as long as it's ok with the adult in charge of her." Naruto's eyes searched the room. He seemed to brighten. "Sasuke!" he called, as he started walking towards Sasuke's spot in the corner.

Sasuke's heart seemed to flutter. He scoffed internally at his body's reaction to Naruto's presence. "Naruto," he answered softly.

Naruto's attention had alerted Sarada to her father's presence, and she came to stand beside him quietly.

"I didn't know you would be in this judo class, Sarada," Naruto said. "Hey, Sasuke. Wanna come out with us? I promised my kids burgers after class, and Boruto wants Sarada to come with."

"Sure," Sasuke mumbled.

Naruto looked at him uncertainly. "You guys wanna meet us over at Dairy Melt? Sarada, is that ok with you, or did Boruto just make plans without consulting you?"

The titular Boruto glared up at his father in aggravation. Sarada smirked.

"It's ok, Mr. Uzumaki. If it's no trouble and it's ok with my dad, I'd be happy to join you."

Sasuke nodded. "Let's go, then."

"Can Sarada ride with us?" Boruto asked Sasuke. "I want to ask her questions."

"If Sarada agrees to, then yes," Sasuke answered. The child's direct manner reminded him of Naruto, but he seemed to have none of Naruto's humility.

"Sure, I'll ride with Boruto, then," Sarada said. She and Boruto walked ahead of everyone towards the door.

"It's good to see you, Sasuke," Naruto said. "I hope this is ok. My son has a habit of making plans and then expecting the rest of the world to fall in line with them."

"If it hadn't been ok, I wouldn't have agreed. I'll see you at the restaurant, Naruto," Sasuke said, and he smiled, unable to help himself. The smile Naruto returned caused heat to flood Sasuke's chest.

The two walked out of the dojo side by side.

Sasuke arrived at Dairy Melt before Naruto and the children. As he searched for a table that would fit them all, he heard Naruto's voice coming through the door.

"… and I cannot lie! All you other brothers can't deny..."

"Dad! Shut up! Please," Boruto begged, a bright shade of red flushing his scowling face. Sarada looked on, blushing, but clearly amused.

"Ok, Ok, I'll stop. What do you guys want?"

"I want the double cheeseburger, Dad, like always," Boruto said.

"I'd like a grilled chicken salad," Sarada said. "But I'll get mine."

"No, you won't! You're dining with the Uzumakis tonight. It's on us," Naruto told her. He walked up to the counter. "I'd like two juicy doubles and a salad, please," he told the cashier, who snickered. "Oh, and a chicken nugget meal for my sunflower, here." The little black-haired girl beamed at Naruto.

Boruto covered his face with his hands and groaned. Sarada laughed.

"Those burgers got buns, hun?" Naruto teased the cashier, who was now openly laughing.

"Dad, you're awful. I'm never going out with you again," Boruto grumbled.

Sasuke couldn't bring himself to announce his presence just yet. The scene fascinated him and amused him and made him feel incredibly left-out all at once. Naruto had spoken of his children regretfully before, but Sasuke could tell he genuinely enjoyed being with them. He wondered if fatherhood would ever feel so effortless to him. Even Sarada seemed to interact easily with Naruto, in contrast to the formal, cautious manner she maintained with Sasuke. The realization saddened him.

He finally forced himself to approach the little group. "I have a table for us. Do you need a high-chair or booster for that one?" He nodded towards the little girl.

Naruto grinned and shook his head. "I'm her booster seat," he said with a laugh. "She is glued to me, I think."

"I glued to you, Papa," the little girl said, hugging Naruto as tightly to herself as she could. Naruto rubbed noses with her as she giggled.

"I'll make an order and be right back," he told Naruto. As he walked past, he felt Naruto's fingers briefly link with his, and he swallowed. The contact was welcome after nearly a week of separation, but it also felt cruel, when surely, Naruto must know the affect he had on Sasuke's body.

Boruto was animatedly holding court when Sasuke returned to the table. "… then, Sarada, she threw me, Dad!" He looked both puzzled and impressed. Sarada lifted her head a little higher, but blushed at the attention.

"You threw Boruto, Sarada?" Naruto asked. "I'm impressed. Good work. How much would you charge to come over and throw him every hour on the hour?"

Boruto punched Naruto on the arm, none too softly, Sasuke noticed. Naruto just stuck his tongue out at him.

"She's really, really good. I need to learn to fight like that. Can I please, please, please take judo, Dad?"

"I see the value of taking a different martial art, Boruto, but I'm going to have to think about it. And I'll have to talk to your mom about it, too," Naruto answered. "It really was different from karate, huh?"

"Very different. That's why I need to take it. You never know who you're going to meet in a real-life fight, right?" Boruto wheedled.

"I've devoted a great deal of my life to making sure that you don't meet anyone in a real-life fight, Boruto," Naruto said tiredly.

"Yeah, but you don't rule the world, do you, Dad?" Boruto countered sullenly. "You never know what's going to happen. So I want to be ready. You took all kinds of lessons when you were a kid. I don't know why I shouldn't."

"I'll think about it, Boruto," Naruto said, closing off the conversation. Sarada looked a little uncomfortable. "Why don't you ask Sarada more about it? She can tell you a lot, and you'll have more information to give your mom tomorrow."

Sasuke snorted at the deflection. Sarada and Boruto began a conversation on their own, Sarada lecturing Boruto on the history and purpose of judo and its differences from karate.

Naruto looked up at Sasuke. "Kids, eh?"

"Kids," Sasuke answered. "How was your week?"

"Fine. Busy. The two weeks after kids leave for summer vacation are the busiest for us. Plus we have a vacancy to fill before we shut down for the summer," Naruto answered. "Hey, Boruto, Sarada's dad is the one who helped me find the books I gave you."

Boruto looked up from his conversation with Sarada. His eyes seemed to light up when they fell on Sasuke. "Those books are great! That version of Hagakure is really easy to read, and I've already finished the book on iaido. I'm rereading it, now," he said excitedly.

"I'm glad you liked them," Sasuke answered. "Your father said you were interested in iaido. That one is from my personal collection."

"Do you know iaido?" Boruto asked, his eyes shining. There was something uncanny about three pairs of blue eyes being fixed on his face, Sasuke discovered.

"Something about it," Sasuke answered.

Naruto laughed. "That's called humility, Boruto," he said. "I bet Sasuke knows more than 'something' about iaido."

Sasuke smiled. Naruto had understood from the beginning how important the art was to Sasuke, and he seemed to take it on confidence that he was skilled in it.

"You're lucky, Sarada," Boruto said wistfully. "I wish my dad could teach me iaido."

Sarada cleared her voice. "I didn't know you practiced it, Papa," she said quietly.

"Hn. Well. I am not a good teacher. I'm far away from the best or the most knowledgeable. But yes, I took classes when I was a teenager," Sasuke said uncomfortably.

Their food arrived just then, to Sasuke's relief. He didn't like talking about his martial arts history with others. As per their unspoken agreement, Sarada picked all the tomatoes out of her grilled chicken salad and placed them on Sasuke's plate.

Sarada and Boruto continued talking in between—and sometimes during—bites of their food. The pretty blue-eyed toddler cheerfully ate her chicken nuggets at Naruto's coaxing. Sasuke watched everyone, wondering at the odd feeling inside of him—as if he both belonged and didn't belong in the setting.

Naruto's nearness made him feel uncertain. He tried not to watch him so intently, but it was difficult; Naruto's reactions played over his features involuntarily, and seeing the amusement, irritation, and indulgent affection for his children so clearly captured Sasuke's attention.

Unbidden memories of his reactions to Sasuke's touch and to their kisses flashed through Sasuke's head. He wanted that, again, to be the center of Naruto's attention and to lose himself in it.

Every layer of himself that Naruto revealed to him enticed him more. Watching him patiently bouncing his daughter on his knees, sparring verbally with his son, and drawing Sarada into their circle without a second thought—all while keeping Sasuke fixed to his seat with his sidelong glances and brilliant smiles—made him, ironically, more enigmatic. And magnetic. Sasuke marveled at how a man so open and honest could still contain a mystery.

Naruto excused himself to the bathroom, and Sasuke was distantly aware of how Sarada took over watching the tiniest Uzumaki. He heard Boruto say something that made all three children laugh. Everything then sounded far, far away.

He rose from his chair without a word, wove through the crowd congregated at the counter, drifted into the hallway.

Naruto was exiting the men's room just as Sasuke arrived at the door. Without a word, Sasuke walked straight ahead, forcing Naruto to retrace his steps backwards. He walked until Naruto's back was pressed against the opposing wall. The door slammed behind him.

"Sasuke..." Naruto whispered, "what..."

His words were cut off by the collision of Sasuke's lips with his. Sasuke slipped his tongue between Naruto's lips, Naruto opening his mouth to welcome the intrusion. Sasuke gripped him by the hips, pulling him close. Naruto's hands tangled themselves in his hair as he groaned and melted into the deepening kiss.

Sasuke pulled back, a bit breathless. Naruto looked at him dazedly, his pupils round and dark. His lips were swollen; his face and neck flushed.

I did that to him, Sasuke thought. I did that to him.

"Take your kids home and come back to my apartment," Sasuke murmured.

Naruto closed his eyes. "Sasuke..." he groaned.

"Don't say no. Please don't say no." Sasuke chastised himself for the need in his voice.

"I want to. More than anything," Naruto said. "But it's my weekend with the kids."

Sasuke turned to walk out the door. He wasn't eager to see the rejection in Naruto's eyes or to expose more of his own humiliation.

Naruto caught his arm and pulled him backwards until his back was flush against Naruto's chest.

Naruto nuzzled his ear gently, and Sasuke silently cursed himself for leaning back into the warmth of Naruto's breath.

"Doing anything tomorrow?" Naruto asked hoarsely.

"Close at five," Sasuke ground out.

"Meet me at your apartment when you're done."

Sasuke nodded. His mouth had gone dry; he didn't trust his voice.

"Hey, Sasuke… you could call me, you know, if you just wanted kisses. It's a totally legit reason to use the phone."

Sasuke could tell Naruto was laughing at him. Irritation vied with the embarrassment and desire. How the fuck was he supposed to word such a conversation?

"I..."

"Hey, it's ok. I mean it. Just… phone. I'll make time for you, Sasuke." Naruto punctuated this statement with a kiss to Sasuke's cheek. "I have to get back out there. Himawari may not look like it, but she can be… scary. And Boruto isn't really responsible for handling her. Sunday, ok, Sasuke?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow," Sasuke muttered.

Naruto kissed the top of Sasuke's head as he unwound his arms from around him. Sasuke leaned against the wall, his knees shaking, as Naruto walked out the door.

Swallowing down his disappointment and embarrassment, he stumbled to the sink and looked into the mirror. His cheeks were a livid shade of red. He ran his hands through his hair and splashed some water on his face. He could not believe he'd actually cornered Naruto and propositioned him in a public bathroom. With their kids sitting right outside. He felt he no longer knew who he was; his mind was torn between anger at Naruto and anger at himself.

Naruto couldn't be expected to read Sasuke's desires like an open book, nor could he be expected to simply drop his responsibilities because Sasuke wanted him. All of this Sasuke knew. It didn't make it any easier, though, to have been rebuffed, even if it was only temporary.

He gave himself some time to compose himself before walking out.

The blue-eyed Uzumaki contingent were all standing at the table when he came back to the dining room. Sarada sat, looking anxiously.

"Sarada," Naruto said, "It is always a pleasure to see you. Thank you again for throwing Boruto at judo tonight." He winked, and Sarada grinned widely and blushed. "Sasuke, it's good to see you again, too. If Boruto ends up taking judo regularly, maybe we can all do this again."

Sasuke nodded, saying nothing.

Naruto walked by and laid his hand on Sasuke's shoulder. "Tomorrow," he whispered, and the roller coaster of nerves and attraction that Sasuke had been on since seeing Naruto accelerated for another dizzying ascent.

Sarada sat quietly for most of the ride back to Sakura's, a fact for which Sasuke gave thanks. He was still battling his embarrassment, in addition to anticipation about seeing Naruto the next day. He didn't trust anything he might say right then.

Halfway there, Sarada broke the silence.

"Is Mr. Uzumaki your friend?" she asked carefully.

It was difficult not to see the question as an intrusion. Mindful, however, of the way his week had begun with his daughter, he breathed deeply and pushed his irritation back.

"Why do you ask?" It was a genuine question. He hoped Sarada had not noticed his awkwardness.

"You smile when you talk to him," she said simply.

"Why is that significant?"

Sarada giggled at this. "You don't really smile a lot. It stands out when you do."

Sasuke didn't know how to respond to that.

"I… I suppose we're friends," he tried. "We haven't known each other long."

"Does it really take adults a long time to figure out if they're friends with someone?" Sarada asked with honest curiosity.

"I don't know," Sasuke responded.

"But you like Mr. Uzumaki," she said, without a trace of question in her voice.

"He… is an unusual person." It was the most neutral thing he could say.

Sarada sighed. "He's a great guy. I'd be really happy if you were friends."

"Why do you like him so much, Sarada?" Sasuke asked. He'd had time to ask her this question all week, he'd pondered the possible answers all week. He hadn't had the courage until now, though, to actually ask.

"He's a nice person," Sarada said. "He treats everyone nicely, but he doesn't act as if he has to. He seems to really like everyone. He tells us to stand up to bullies, and to look out for each other. He says that when we compete with each other, we should be learning from each other's strengths and growing into better people. And everybody has a unique strength, he says, and part of being a strong person means honoring that."

Sasuke smiled. The sentiment sounded just like Naruto. "Why does that mean so much to you?" he asked.

Sarada sat quietly for a few seconds. "Because it means there's a place for everyone," she finally mumbled.

The tone of her voice made Sasuke's stomach hurt. He wondered when Sarada had felt as if she didn't have a place. He knew he had contributed to that feeling.

"Papa..." she began tentatively.

"Yes, Sarada?"

"I know you said it has nothing to do with me. But why were you gone so long?"

Sasuke suppressed a groan.

"I can't really tell you, Sarada," he said. "I know you want to know, but even if there weren't legal reasons for me to be quiet about it, I still wouldn't tell you. I'll tell you that I felt that it was important, not just for me, but for you, as well, for me to do the work I did."

"Was it really for work?"

"Yes."

"Papa, if you are friends with Mr. Uzumaki, does that mean you'll stay around Konoha?" Sarada's voice was soft and unsure.

"I told you I would stay in Konoha, Sarada," he answered, attempting to keep his tone even.

"I know. I just sometimes think..."

"That I'll break my promise to you?" Sasuke said, somewhat bitterly.

"No!" Sarada spat. "Don't jump to conclusions about what I'm going to say, Papa!"

Sarada's anger was easier to take in stride than her sadness. "You're right. What were you going to say?"

"I'm afraid… I'm afraid that you'll hate me when you get to know me and you'll run away again." To Sasuke's horror, the anger was gone, and it sounded as if Sarada was about to cry again.

They were now in front of Sakura's house. Sasuke stopped the car and turned to look at Sarada. "Look at me, Sarada," he said. When she turned her face to him, he could see the tears glimmering in her eyes.

"I promised you that I would stay. I am not a 'nice' person, Sarada. I don't find conversation easy or enjoyable even when it's necessary. I'm not patient, my tone of voice is short. But I keep my promises."

Sarada sniffed. "When I worked with you this week, I felt you might like me, just a little."

The horrible feeling of being kicked in the chest was back. He almost hissed in physical pain.

"Sarada. I don't like children. If you were like Naruto's son, you would not have come back to work with me after the first day. I wouldn't go out to eat with you. I wouldn't talk to you." Sarada's eyes went large and round at this admission. "I do these things with you because I like you."

He placed his hand awkwardly on her shoulder. "I don't tolerate most people, much less like them. Understand me. Please."

She sat and stared at him for what seemed an interminable period. She then doubled over in laughter.

"Boruto…" she heaved, "Boruto thinks you're like a rock star," she said, as if this were the most hilarious thing in the world. "He said you're the coolest dad he's ever met." She doubled over again.

Sasuke was confused by this turn in the conversation. He felt as if his child had colluded with Naruto to give him emotional whiplash.

"Hn."

"I know," Sarada wheezed. "He's such an idiot."

"Sarada," Sasuke said, somewhat harshly. Her head whipped up to peer at him anxiously. "I… I enjoyed being with you this week."

She wiped at her face and grinned broadly. Then, to Sasuke's amazed discomfort, she threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Papa. I enjoyed it so, so much."

He patted her gently on the back. She pulled back and opened her car door, and he watched as she bounded up the steps to her waiting mother. He waved at Sakura and drove away, thoroughly bemused by the bizarre parade of emotions—both his and others—he'd been subjected to that day. The old discomfort, the feeling of being out of place, crept up, but alongside it blossomed the sense that something extraordinary was happening in his life.