notes: revised! (8/11/19)
rating: K
disclaimer: i don't own naruto.
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30. dinner
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"So many tomatoes, Mama…"
Sarada never really liked them; they taste strange, and the whole fruit versus vegetable conundrum had her mind boggled when she was younger. But that hadn't been what did it for her. When Sakura had told her that Sasuke loves tomatoes, Sarada had always hated tomatoes since then—she couldn't regard them as plain, ordinary fruits if she knew that Papa liked them. Scarcely, she had always made sure to avoid ketchup or tomatoes whenever she could. Tomatoes were tolerable to her on some occasions, but tonight, seeing the dozens of tomatoes being stuffed in the fridge, she wasn't sure how her tolerance level would handle it.
Sakura blinks, though she cannot seem to comprehend how having a bag full of tomatoes could ever be regarded as too much. "What do you mean? Your Papa usually likes it when there's a lot of tomatoes stocked up—it's his favorite, I recall." She snickers, amused, when she hears the slightly disgruntled noise from her daughter as she stores the aforementioned tomatoes away in the fridge. Ironic, how her daughter grew up to despise the very food her own father adores. What would he say?
With her fingers pushing up her glasses, Sarada continues to stir the broth in front of her and watches as the steam arise in thick waves. "But if he's never home, there's no point to having so many. They'd—" Rot. "—go bad." His absence always impacted Sarada such, enabling her to grow up bitterly, straying away from the happy picture Sakura always envisioned for her childhood. Sometimes, on particularly sour days, Sarada makes no effort to hide her despondent indignation and Sakura would have to inwardly sigh.
Sakura's chest swells up a little in remorse, silent guilt flourishing in her eyes and she's grateful that her back is facing her bespectacled daughter to avoid suspicion. "That's not true," she replies softly, her motherly patience showing off. "He's the only one strong enough to be trusted with those kinds of missions. It does consume a lot of time." She pushes the fridge door to a close and checks the cabinet doors briefly before she grabs a knife to continue the lettuce chopping as Sarada tends to the broth. "A shinobi's life isn't easy—you know that, Sarada."
Her nose subtly scrunches.
Her Mama said 'those' like it is her way of saying he has a legit reason for always not being here, so please stop talking about it and give him a break. A sigh she lets out, Sarada complies nonetheless. "He could've, at least, wrote to us once in awhile." It's better than flat-out vanishing; Sarada's amount of worry wouldn't be so ridiculously high. He doesn't ever seem to bother remembering that he has a cellphone or even a messenger hawk. It seems unfair for the only one to receive hawk mail from him is the Nanadaime. It's also unfair that Naruto refused to tell the two of them whenever he was mailed too. Naruto's only trying to spare feelings, but really—Sarada would love to hear something from her own family.
"Naruto said he'd be in places with no suitable places meant for writing." She pauses, a bit amused that her daughter silently acknowledges that Sasuke doesn't really use his cellphone a lot, opting to talk about how he should write via his favorite messenger hawks instead. "Did you expect him to send tens or dozens of messenger hawks?" comes her lighthearted jest as she plugs in the rice cooker near the cabinets and letting herself balance plates along her palms. It'd be pretty funny: Sasuke only has one hawk and envisioning it carrying dozens of letters would be laughable, yet pitiful all the same.
A snort, the expected reaction. How could Sakura read her mind so well? "Of course not, Mama. It's just nice to write once in awhile to inform people that he or she is still alive." Sarada momentarily sips at her broth experimentally, the flavorful sweetness temporarily quelling her tension before she gently sprinkles some salt. "I bet he writes to Nanadaime-sama more than us, his own family." She might've heard Boruto or Shikadai talk about it, but given their lack of insight on Sasuke's bond with Naruto, both weren't really helpful to her.
"Sarada."
The girl in question halts, her lips pursing uncomfortably and the ladle lifelessly resting at the pot's rim.
Sakura sounds pushed, like someone trimmed off the last nerve of patience she possesses—but Sarada notes on how her mother's eyes are achingly loving. "I've been meaning to tell you, but Naruto did tell me that your Papa's coming back tomorrow." Sakura flickers a light gaze at the fridge, where those tomatoes were resting idly. "That's why I wanted to welcome him back, with all the things that he loves," murmurs Sakura, tone affectionate. "Those tomatoes are going to contribute for tomorrow's dinner, and his bento when he sets off."
Bento.
Does this mean he's going to leave them again after one day of showing signs of breathing and living? Had it not been for the memory of her Papa's words—because you exist—then her Sharingan would've activated, in which she assumes would be the final straw to wrecking today's dinner and her Mama's good mood. Luckily, those words give her hope. And hopefully, her Papa's thinking about them right now. One day. At least she'll see him for one day. Another day, he'll be back longer—maybe two days, three days, four days, five days, longer.
Sarada trots to the refrigerator, feeling eyes on her back. Sakura almost laughs in sheer amusement when she sees her daughter holding a plump tomato in hand, but continues to wait for the rice to be finished cooling off by now as she starts slicing carrots. "I thought you didn't like them?"
Despite herself, Sarada grins, reminding Sakura a little bit of Naruto. "I don't. But maybe, it'll add some flavor for tonight's dinner. Besides—" Sarada speaks as she tries to tolerate the flow of juice spilling onto her fingers the moment she sinks the knife into the flesh of it next to Sakura's carrots. "—I'm sure Papa won't notice if I borrow only one from his apparent stash, Mama."
"That soup you're making better be good then!" Sakura smiles and jokes, and she smiles for Sasuke because he would've been happy to see this.
