A/N at the end.

Chapter 14

"Mama, good morning…" The usual salutation ended with a muffled yawn this morning.

Angling her head in the direction of the teen who'd shuffled into her space, Sakura beamed. As she arranged the ceramic ware on the dining table, she returned her daughter's greeting with a degree of enthusiasm that was rare for this time of the day. "Good morning, my dear!"

"Breakfast is ready. I made your favorite," she announced cheerily, gesturing toward the egg rolls and congee on the table while Sarada slid into her seat. She nodded slowly; her dark eyes rolled lazily to follow Sakura's every movement from under her lids, still drooped with drowsiness.

By the time a couple of egg rolls had disappeared from the serving plate, the sleepiness on Sarada's face had just started to wane, Sakura noticed. In between bites of her food, the young girl seemed to study her with renewed interest. After swallowing a few sips of her porridge, Sarada finally observed, "Mama, you seem to be in a good mood lately."

Mid-chewing, Sakura hummed, "Hmm… Is that right…"

She looked up thoughtfully for a brief moment before her eyes dropped back on the adolescent, and she smiled. "Well, I'm happy because you, my sweetheart, are going to become a Chuunin soon."

"That's…" Sarada deadpanned, as she pointed out, "the exams are almost a year away."

"Yes, but still, it makes me happy to see you working hard for it."

Her daughter's brows only rose closer to her hairline. When her dubious display was simply returned with a wider smile from the other side of the table, she shook her head and relented to working on her meal. Saved for Sakura's light inquiries about the young Uchiha's upcoming assignments, the rest of breakfast was wrapped up in companionable silence.

No later than breakfast was over, Sarada was already in the middle of packing up her gears for the training session with her team. One shoulder leaning against the wall and arms crossed loosely, Sakura occupied the genkan and watched as the raven-haired girl pulled on her sandals.

"Mama," Securing the straps of her shoes, Sarada spoke up, capturing the attention of her quiet observer. "I think…"

Sakura batted her eyes at the girl's back, her curiosity slightly piqued.

"You're happy because Gaara-ojisan is coming for dinner." In that characteristic bright voice of hers, Sarada threw the nonchalant comment so unexpectedly at her that it made her shoulder almost slip from its position.

"Wha—"

"I'm off! See you at dinner!"

Before Sakura could fully digest the youth's words, the latter had bid her goodbye and was halfway out the door faster than she could retort. At the quickly fading dot of Sarada's back, she sighed. As she lingered by the doorway, letting the vibrant rays of the morning sun shower warmth on her form, her mind lingered over her daughter's remark from minutes ago. And she fought with conscious volition the urge to quirk up the edges of her lips; though it ended with her losing.

Right… dinner.

With the mental reminder, Sakura determinedly pulled the front door close and withdrew herself inside to prepare and begin on her own tasks for the day.

She'd done more D-ranked missions in her Genin years than she could count, but none had been as challenging as the current priority on her agenda, a job so simple in its appearance that she'd equated it with a low-class assignment; yet one that was proving to be so difficult that she was having creeping doubts about the likelihood of accomplishing it.

Sakura huffed. Grocery shopping had never given her more headache than now.

The sun was already directly overhead. She'd covered ample ground by visiting a dozen markets and meat stalls from one end of Konoha to another. Yet, the ingredients that she was searching for remained elusive. With every shake of head from the store clerk, Sakura's initial giddiness, brought on by her anticipatory mood and the perfect spring weather, diminished more.

In front of a butcher shop in a neighborhood that she normally didn't frequent, Sakura scanned the unassuming storefront. Nodding to herself and tightening her clutch on the empty tote in her hand, she marched in…

"Yes, I believe we have some in the back. Please wait a moment here while I go and get it."

So close on the verge of giving up, Sakura had found these words from the kind middle-aged man behind the counter like heaven to her ears. With admiring eyes, she beheld him as though she'd found her savior of the day. The butcher gave a small shaky smile before retreating deeper into the shop. Her triumphant expression must have been so intimidatingly fierce that the man sprinted just a little quicker, Sakura noticed and snickered to herself.

"That's quite an interesting item you are getting there."

The steady baritone from behind drew her focus, causing Sakura to turn around in time for a head full of silver to intrude her line of vision.

"Kakashi-sensei," she gasped.

"Yo," the older male greeted with a casual wave of hand.

Her mild surprise dissipated; blossomed in its place, a kind of smile that was reserved for an old friend, the top row of her teeth showing. "It's been some time. How are you?"

"Mm, better than some, I suppose." Kakashi copied her gesture with his eyes; his dark irises disappearing behind the lids that creased into thin arcs. "What about yourself? And Sarada?"

"We are well."

With the vendor yet to return from his quest, Sakura let her attention rest on the only other customer beside her in the small shop—her former teacher, also the Sixth Hokage. Everything about him was so nostalgic. She saw him less often nowadays, but his appearance seemed unaffected by the passage of time between their rendezvous. He was still sporting that iconic gravity-defying hair of his, the slight relaxed slouch in his broad shoulders, and the enigma that was his facial traits known to only a selected few (no, she wasn't one of the lucky ones)—perhaps that was his secret to his ageless look. After all, there was no chance for those wrinkles to expose their wearer's age when more than half of his face was concealed by an opaque mask.

"There's a different air about you."

While Sakura was immersed in her observation of the taller man's features, the subject of her study made known his observation of her verbally. At Kakashi's statement, her forehead lifted.

"Huh? How so?"

"You seem…" A short pause allowed him to pick the right word choice he wanted. "Lively."

Sakura blinked, letting his words soak in. He was the second person to comment on her mood that day. Was she really wearing her emotions on her sleeves, so to speak? Sure, she'd felt her steps lighter these days, found her household chores less of a nuisance, and showed saint-like patience toward the trainees at the hospital who'd been making the same mistakes too consistently to be tolerable. Most of all, her grumpiness from waking up in the morning had been non-existent… although she still had her gripe about rising out of bed and having to separate herself from the protective arms of—

"Sasuke must be coming back."

The name, one that hardly filtered through her mind as of late, sent an unpleasant jolt through Sakura, prematurely snapping her out of her reverie.

"No."

She was fast in rejecting Kakashi's assumption, and rather icily at it too—at least, his return wasn't something that she was aware of… And the most ironic part of all was that such prospect now terrified her when it used to flood her with pure excitement and anticipation.

The smile she wore undid itself, as her expression became overcast with gloom and her supposedly "good mood" deflated. Now that someone had refreshed the significance of that particular name, that particular person, in her life, every dreadful thought threatened to break out of the compartment in her head, the same thoughts that she'd let herself become callous to.

"Oh."

Before the silver-haired man could further any conversation related to the same individual in question, the butcher's re-appearance relieved Sakura of her consternation. As he handed her two packets of what she had requested, the view of the content within the container distracted her from sinking into her earlier bout of anxiety. Her fingers feeling the distinct texture through the tight plastic seal, she gulped.

With their colors and shapes, the unique ingredients looked daunting, more than anything else.

While Sakura apprehensively examined the items in her grip, Kakashi peeked over her and offered his own unsolicited commentary. "I must say, Sakura, I never knew you had an appetite for heavy foods like this. A newly acquired taste, perhaps?"

Following his gaze, she didn't like that his eyes furtively traveled to her abdomen region.

"It's not for me." She swiftly thwarted his suspicion.

"Ah, I see."

When Sakura paid for her grocery and said her goodbye to Kakashi at the butcher shop, her words had come out more clipped than she would've liked. Obviously still irked at the silver-haired man's comments, she didn't appreciate that one thing he was insinuating even though the math wouldn't have added up, given the length of Sasuke's absence from her life.

In truth, however, she was more unnerved by how her former teacher had inadvertently reminded her of the sickening reality of her circumstances, because she couldn't exactly say that the aforementioned probability was zero. Her mood darkened in broad daylight, as she was struck with the horrifying possibility of something that she wouldn't let her mind dwell on. Fortunately, taking the proper preventive measures was without a pinch of difficulty. There was no room for carelessness in her profession, and she wasn't a medic just for show.

As Sakura slowed to a stop in the middle of the busy Konoha streets, she clenched the handles of her tote hard. Looking down into the bag, she frowned.

What am I doing?

This bubbling enthusiasm, this overflowing desire—to do something special for the other person—one that hasn't been reignited until now…

It was telling.

Still. She shouldn't commit to these kinds of acts. Couldn't.

And it was these moments of clarity that ached her heart the most. Don't make this more than what it is, that obnoxious voice in the back of her head scorned.

I'm not.

She stressed to her inner self with a note of stubbornness that was meant to convince no one else but herself. Shaking off the dark thoughts, she squared her shoulders and strode onward in the direction of her apartment.

As a medic-nin, Sakura was good with her hands. The ability to perform the most intricate procedures with the utmost precision wasn't something that transferred to her skills in the kitchen, however—something her daughter could witness.

Admittedly she was never great at cooking, but being a mother compelled her. Though today was one of those rare days when a unique sense of motivation pushed her to be as meticulous as she could in her dinner preparation. Drying her washed hands on her apron, she proceeded to rearrange the skewered foods on the plate for the painstaking fifth time. Before she could be fully satisfied with the presentation of the dish, the sound of the unlocking door snatched her concentration from her compulsive act.

"We're back!"

The standard announcement that followed the closing of the front door, a nuanced version this time, rang out in short range, and Sakura found herself seized with an inexplicable case of jitters. Stepping out of her cooking station, she met half-way the duo that'd sauntered into the apartment. A flash of black in the foreground against the crimson that trailed closely behind, and her green eyes immediately flew to the deep red that was her favorite color. And the way the ends of her lips rose was automatic.

Sarada was the first to seat herself at the dining table, her impatience allowing the two grownups in the room to steal a meaningful glance from one another behind her back. The heat that warmed Sakura's cheeks at the sight of the man's subtle smile was embarrassing, but she didn't stop to adjust her mindset before obligating herself to her original task. She ushered the only other standing member to the table and hurried back to the kitchen to transport what was needed for supper.

Dinner was soon presented in its entirety before the company of three in the Uchiha residence. Browsing the filled ceramic ware that lined the top of the table, Sakura made sure there was nothing missing before directing a smile toward the two that sat on the opposite side of her.

"I hope it's to your liking," she said gently.

Eyebrows wiggling, the dark-haired youth seemed to be too busy inspecting the content in her plate to give any acknowledgment to her mother's speech, which was fine, for those words were meant for another anyway.

"What is this?" Sarada finally shifted her eyes from her plate to her mother.

As she answered her daughter's question, Sakura skewed her focus to the red-haired man, whose seafoam eyes on her remained steadfast, just like the blush that wouldn't cool off from her face.

"It's grilled chicken gizzards and cured beef tongue." And she was sure that the color in her cheeks deepened, when the slight surprise from her male companion's expression melted into visible appreciation.

That appreciation, apparently, was not shared all around at the dinner table.

"Ack. You never cook this, Mama."

A squinched face accompanied Sarada's vocal complaint, and Sakura had to assert her authority over the menu of the evening, "We always have the same things. I thought it'd be nice to try something new."

The girl wrinkled her nose, poking at the chunks of organ meat in front of her with unmerited caution. She watched with some combination of fascination and skepticism when the redhead beside her brought a piece to his mouth, and without any hesitation chewed on it. Her doubts displayed for all to see, she asked, "Gaara-ojisan, you like it?"

To Sarada he gave his response, yet his knowing gaze was for Sakura. "I happen to find it quite delectable."

And just like that, delight spread throughout Sakura's face; then she was smiling with everything she got: Her curved mouth, her crinkled dimples, and her arched eyes.

Eyeing the two, Sarada threw her arms in the air in defeat. "Adults…"

The girl's grumble earned her a soft chuckle from Gaara, and Sakura could only look on with contentment at the exchanges between her daughter and the one whose presence at the dinner table was somehow… so fitting.

As she bit into a particular piece with burnt edges, her taste buds found the bitterness of it disagreeable; it was chewier than she expected too. Sakura frowned. But when she saw Gaara's genuine smile at her while he savored the food she made for him, it was enough to make her heart flutter…

It was so wrong.

But it didn't stop her from welcoming the many what-ifs that filled her head.

A/N: Sorry this chapter came out later than usual. I've been really busy at work/home. Also as we get to the second half of the story, some parts are proving to be very challenging to write!

Anyhow. Can I get any likes for the Kakashi cameo? :) Sorry, Kakashi, this is still a GaaSaku, now shoo!