Papa's first nightmare without Mama left Sarada speechless and unable to move out of fear. Her feet were frozen in place as she peeked through the cracks of the bedroom her parents once shared. On the bed, she could see Papa's form, thrashing wildly beneath the covers. For a second, she wished she could close her eyes and open them to find Mama there, comforting him in the way that only she could. But Mama was gone to a place they could not follow. Not yet, at least.
At twenty years old, Sarada had learned of all the secrets of the Uchiha Clan and why Papa, as strong as he seemed, still suffered from nightmares. She remembered how her parents sat her down, barely three months ago with a history book and solemn expressions. Even then, her Papa was as stoic as ever, recounting the events as if he was simply listing chores for the week. She was finally mature enough to grasp the gravity of her family history. But twenty, Sarada thought, was still too young to bury your mother.
Slowly, she inched closer to her Papa. She had seen his nightmares only once before. It was years ago and she was merely a child. She had awakened in the middle of the night to screams and rushed towards the source with a kunai in hand only to find her parents on the floor of their bedroom. Mama had shot her a glance that said, not now, and Papa had his head buried in the crook of her mother's neck. Without another word, Sarada had retreated to her bedroom, eyes stinging with tears at her father's pain.
The next morning, Sarada remembered how her mother gently told her about Papa's nightmares and how they used to happen often but now only occur once in a while. He slept much better now that he was home with his family, her mother had said with a bittersweet smile. Sarada only nodded, unsure of what to say, just like she was now.
To her, Papa was always a strong man, a force to be reckoned with. But now as she watched him clutch the covers like a lifeline, he suddenly seemed so…human. His screams of pain were gone now, replaced with quiet sobs. As she neared him, she could finally make out his words. He was repeating Mama's name like a mantra, as if he could summon her if he called for her enough times.
Just like Mama had comforted her as a child after her nightmares, Sarada grasped Papa's hand and traced circles on his skin with her thumb. Her other hand found his shoulder as she gently coaxed him awake. When he opened his lone eye, Sharingan shining a menacing red in the dark, Sarada froze for a second time.
She watched as recognition flashed across his tear-stained face and he sat up, leaning against the headboard of the bed for support. Papa pulled his hand from hers, almost a little too roughly, to cover his face.
"Sarada, I'm sorry," he finally choked out. "Please go back to bed."
"Papa, let me be here for you. Please," she begged, reaching out again to hold his hand.
He didn't protest, only looked at her with features so sad, her own tears threatened to spill. Her Papa, the feared Sasuke Uchiha, was nothing but a crumpled mess before her eyes, only a shell of the man he used to be. Without Mama, Papa seemed so much emptier. A part of him, Sarada realized, left with Mama the day she drew her last breath.
"I miss her too, Papa," Sarada finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't trust herself to speak at her full volume, afraid that she would scare her father away. She knew he hated for anyone except Mama to see him like this at his most vulnerable state.
His sad, sad eye found her gaze again and this time, she could no longer hold back her tears. Her vision blurred as they flowed. When she refocused on the image in front of her, she found Papa turning away from her and staring at the wall in a failed attempt to hide his own falling tears.
Sarada mirrored him, wishing more than anything that she could feel Mama's strong arms encasing her. She missed the way she always felt so safe in her mother's embrace. She missed her jade eyes, filled with so much kindness, so much life. She missed everything about Mama.
A touch to her cheek brought her from her thoughts and she turned to find Papa watching her with a sad smile.
"You look just like her," he breathed, the pain clear in his wavering voice.
And suddenly she found herself in her Papa's arm, burying her face into his chest as choking sobs shook her body. Sarada had not allowed herself to break down since the funeral two days ago. But tonight, all the pain and sadness she fought to keep at bay began to leak past the dam she built. All at once, she was falling apart, hoping that her father's embrace could hold her together.
"Shh, baby girl, Papa's here," she heard her father whisper into her hair and it caused her tears to flow even harder. He sounded so much like Mama used to when she comforted her as a child. Tonight, Sarada didn't care that she was twenty years old. Tonight, she was nothing but a child, yearning for her Papa's affection.
He continued shushing her until her sobs quieted and she had no tears left to cry. His lone hand ran gently through her hair and she realized that she was not the only one who adopted Mama's mannerisms. She had seen Mama comfort him that night the same way, delicate fingers caressing his dark locks. And as he continued to do the same, a sense of peace enveloped her.
Mama may not be there but she lived in the way they embraced, in the way Papa's voice softened, and the way Sarada held her Papa's hand. And Sarada knew that Papa came to this realization too when she no longer felt his body shake with sobs along with her.
When she pulled away to face him, he seemed better. The grief was still there, she could see it as clear as day. Frankly, she wasn't sure if Papa would ever stop feeling pain now that Mama was gone. But she knew that together, she and Papa would somehow be okay. They had to be, even if the empty space between them seemed more like a never-ending chasm.
Papa tucked stray strands of hair behind her ear and as if echoing her thoughts, he whispered, "We'll be okay, she'll always be with us."
"How do you know for sure, Papa?"
He smiled, a rare sight that only she and Mama have had the privilege to see. His voice was oh so soft when he spoke next, mimicking the tone Mama used to use. "Because you exist, Sarada."
And his fingertips found her forehead.
A/N
Let's be clear: I don't want this to happen at all. My only wish is for Sasuke and Sakura to grow old together and love each other until the end of time. But like all of you who have found yourselves here, I'm a sucker for some good angst. So I hope you enjoyed allowing me the opportunity to make you cry because trust me, it hurt like hell to write this.