rating: K
disclaimer: i don't own naruto.
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38. bench
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Sarada was around seven when she saw the bench for the first time.
"This is it, Mama?" softly, she asks. Her fingers are warm because Mama is holding onto them securely and Sarada thinks, as she stares, that the bench looks lonelier and colder than anything she'd ever seen.
Although she didn't have to, Sakura nods, prim. "Mhm." When she looks up to meet her in the eyes, Sarada sees emotions in Mama's gaze. "It's my most important place," Mama says with a smile, the arm holding Sarada's hand a tad bit limp all of a sudden. "I'm sure it means something to Papa too." Sakura looks like she's rethinking something now. "He probably won't admit it, though. He never says much."
From the way those words sound clipped, it feels as though Sakura wanted to say more, but she doesn't—Sarada doesn't know what Papa does, what he thinks and feels or where he goes, so she says nothing except offer warmth onto the hand Mama is holding so she can be warm too.
The numbing stings of the cold waft on her legs, and Sarada clutches a bag of groceries closer to her so it won't spill. A breeze just whisked by, dead leaves of rusty browns and reds following. When she looks at Mama again, she is shivering despite the fur-lined coat she's donning. Winter can be such a pain sometimes, the little girl thinks with a grimace at her foggy glasses.
"Mama—" Tugging onto Sakura's hand, Sarada makes a suggestion that would garner them rest. "—let's sit for a bit." She momentarily shakes her knees out, trying to get some blood pumping again in vain. "My feet are tired and my legs are cold…"
"Sure; Mama is tired too." Thoughts of Papa seem to fade as Sakura's eyes gain back some shine, and she smiles and nods. Yet, Sarada also sees hesitation that dissipated as quickly as it came, in the form of stiff shoulders and sagging of her eyebrows. "But only for a few minutes! It won't do us any good if we're both sick." Mama utters a low chuckle and it seems faint. She pulls her daughter closer as they approach the bench.
Sarada doesn't know why Mama looks happy, yet so sad. "But you're a doctor, Mama! We are sick-proof." True to her seven year-old nature, she swings her feet lightly over the bench as the coldness of the bench slowly becomes warm under her skirt and black stockings. The bag of securely-kept vegetables and seasonings on her lap tells her a quiet job well done for keeping them safe.
Mama finally lets out a laugh and it sounds tenfold better, and her eyes are crinkling. "Smart thinking!" Her hand raises and Sarada's beanie is soon flattened from her patting. "But even doctors have their weaknesses, y'know! Sometimes, even Mama gets sick and needs bed rest like any other person."
"To me, Mama is like a super woman!" Sarada boldly tells her, smiling despite the cold air numbing her jaw. "I don't have to worry a lot, because I know you're there for me. So even if I'm sick, I don't mind because I know Mama will help fix me up."
Sarada feels herself being pushed back, her abdomen tackled, and then she feels arms around her and the familiar fabric of Mama's coat wrapped around her. "Hey you! Stop being so adorable! Mama can't take it anymore!" With Sarada's face buried into the coat, she cannot see how Sakura's face alight with glistening eyes and loving smiles. "What did I do to deserve you?!" she cooes.
"Mama, stop!" With pink cheeks, the seven year-old prays with closing eyes that they didn't have any witnesses. At her age, this is embarrassing! She felt herself ready to say as such, but then Sarada tilts her head up and sees Mama's happiness and then all of it dies on the tip of her tongue.
While she doesn't know much, she hopes Mama would see today as a new happy memory for this bench.
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Sarada was twelve when she saw the bench again.
Sasuke stops walking when he sees her stop, a domino effect unintentionally gone right. "Something wrong?" he speaks up soon after. He shifts a box under his right arm. It's a box of a few supplies Sakura had requested them bring to her office—she'd been much too busy today to get them herself and Sasuke, miraculously, has time off.
Shaking her head, Sarada immediately tries to dismiss any alarmed thoughts her Papa might have at the sudden stop in their excursion. "O-Oh, nothing, Papa!" Knowing better than to tell white lies in front of the man who is much too perceptive than her, she relents to his unspoken curiosity. "I was just wondering about that bench."
Following the finger she had gestured towards the aforementioned object, Sasuke is quiet. Sarada can tell why.
"What about it?" he eventually says back, seemingly nonplussed.
Sarada actually didn't know why either, why she bothered to stop and stare. "I remembered that Mama showed it to me once." Idly, her arms readjust a small box of medical kits within it. "She told me that this bench was her most important place." Sasuke says nothing, and Sarada ventures on. "She looked happy that day when she looked at it. She mentioned you too, Papa. I just thought… it's nice that this bench was a very special place for you two."
"...It is," utters Sasuke, his tone sounding a little far away.
She's pleasantly surprised, because she didn't think he would admit such a thing. "Something from your childhood?" she goes to ask, feeling proding. Mama and Papa never really told her stories of their childhood together (to this day, Sarada ponders about their love story) so she'll always try to take what she can get. Always willing to take whatever they feel that they can share.
"It is," he repeats again, more firmly. This time, he dares a glance at the bench. "Many things happened here. Good and bad. Things that your mother and I will never forget."
"Can you tell me a few then?"
He hesitates. "Not yet," he goes to amend, knowing that his reluctance was a no from him. "But we can sit on it, if you're tired."
She doesn't remark on how this gives her a case of deja vu, but she smiles, almost cheekily. "I'll take you up on that now. I'm positive Mama won't mind us being a little late—" At this point, she is turning and approaching the bench, him following behind with sluggish steps. "—since we're only bringing her spare materials that she already has."
Casually, she sits on the same side where she sat a long time ago with Sakura. It's funny how this bench means so much to her parents, yet now it also feels like it means a lot to Sarada too—like they're all intertwined again.
"We should still go soon," Papa says after quietly placing the box of medical papers and supplies on his lap. Sarada mimics him with her box.
"Right," she concedes, nonchalantly, her eyes people watching. "After all, Mama always looks happiest when you're around." Sarada, victoriously, glistens when she hears a slight cough from her side.
This bench no longer looks as lonely or cold as she once saw it as.
"Next time, we should sit here with Mama," suggests her, optimistically. "If it means so much to you two, then maybe we should sit here as a family." Her finger taps her chin. "Like, making new memories! Mama used to tell me that it's better to have happy memories than sad ones."
Eyes softening, they hide under his eyelids as he smiles. "One day, we should."
