rating: K

disclaimer: i don't own naruto.

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49. kin

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"What was my uncle like?"

Sasuke stops chewing his rice, but Sakura sits opposite of him and chokes audibly. He passes his suffering wife a glass of water, and swallows the lump of half-chewed rice. "What brought this up?" he decidedly asks, as Sakura chugs her water with much vigor.

Chopsticks poking halfheartedly at her vegetables, Sarada shifts, then admits, "Himawari was telling us about her uncle today."

"So you got curious about your own," Sasuke finishes, nodding with all the information he requires. He needs to think about what to say back, because the history of his brother and her uncle is rather—according to a lot of sources—messed up. His own two cents would be 'convolutedly complex,' not messed up. (Sakura told him they were synonymous. The wife knows best: the greatest lesson in marriage.) "What did you hear of her uncle?" He resumes eating his dinner, chewing softly at his rice.

Sarada nibbles at her sliced carrots since Sakura prepared a lot of them tonight. "She called him Uncle Neji, and said how her Mama thought of him as a brother. He was like a war hero, so I've heard."

"He is," corrects Sakura, almost defensively. "Neji-san contributed a lot to the war, and he sometimes helped me when he took breaks. He was very reliable." Despite the praise, she looks sad. Sasuke understands why, because loss and death are everlasting and always very somber. He never knew Neji as much as she did, but it's disappointing to lose someone who could've been a kindred soul. "I hope he's happy. Up there, I mean. Hinata-chan would want that."

Sasuke puts down his chopsticks to take his bowl of soup for a sip. "For what it's worth, he passed away as happy as he could." Love. Neji passed away because he loves Hinata and Naruto, and thought to offer his life in exchange for the future those two could have together. Love. The word sort of makes Sasuke's heart ache in remembrance of his beloved Nii-san.

Sakura nods as Sarada watches them. "I'm very proud of him. I mean, we weren't that close and he's always been stiff, kinda like you, but I think he's worked hard to achieve everything he received. He— No, you both worked hard, so do your best to uphold the stony-faced legacy he left behind, eh, Anata?" His wife sends him an amused smile, and Sasuke knows it's how she keeps the atmosphere happy from the conversation at hand.

So, he half-smiles back, saying, "I'll do my best."

Looking satisfied, Sakura looks at their daughter. "That's a lie. Neji-san did it better. He actually knew what smiling was."

In spite of herself, Sarada laughs in the midst of her chewing.

It makes Sasuke feel compelled to add, "Your uncle was like that. Smiling, he did it a lot." He looks fond, nostalgic. "In fact, he had laugh lines on his face already when he was a little over your age."

"How was he in battle?" Sarada sips at her soup before she starts eating her rice again. "Did he teach you anything, Papa?"

He softens. "He was the best of the best—he had great things in store for himself."

Itachi never got those things and everything downspiraled from there, but deep inside, Sasuke wants to believe there could've been a future where Nii-san got married with his girlfriend Izumi and worked enough to afford a living for his own family and carve a life of happiness for himself. Nii-san hated war and violence, so Sasuke thought to himself that it would always be the same whenever he and Itachi went somewhere for brother bonding time. Well, with their father's expectations, reality had to settle in on Sasuke and he gave up in favor of making Father proud—but Sasuke really wanted Itachi to be happy. Even when the corpses of their parents and whole clan laid there in cold blood, the lust for revenge and cold-hard vengeance failed to bury every bit of love he held for his brother. And Itachi must've felt the same.

(No matter what happens to you, I will always love you forever.)

"He taught me many things," Sasuke adds. "I hope you can inherit them eventually."

"Assuming you can teach them to me," quips Sarada, simpering. Sakura rolls her eyes, a light smile at her lips.

"If your uncle was here," he pipes in, "he'd say the same. You two aren't that far off when it concerns your sense of humor." And she definitely didn't inherit any humor from him. The culprits could only be his wife and brother, both whom he'd taken jabs from at various points of his life.

"I wish I could've met him then…" Sarada's eyes dim for a moment.

Quietly, he rallies up all his options. Then finally, Sasuke offers, "I have photos."

An immediate perk evident in her expression, his daughter smiles. "Really?!"

He nods.

"I want to see them, Papa! After dinner? Please!"

Sakura watches them endearingly. Sasuke knows this was a losing battle from the start, so he puts up absolutely no signs of rejection. He simply says, "After your bath. You know how your mother is." He expertly ignores the What-do-you-mean look of offense from across the table.

"Okay!" She hurriedly resumes gulping the rest of her food. Sakura shakes her head in mock exasperation, and Sasuke peacefully finishes his soup. Sarada's smile is so eager and bright, and full of love.

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Sarada leans forward on the couch and squints. "Boy, you weren't kidding about the laugh lines, Papa."

He half-smiles again, humored.

"And this is supposed to be you?!" Her finger points to a young Sasuke, who looked between six to eight in this particular photo. He's not just smiling. It was a broad, open-mouth grin that showed his teeth. Frankly, it's safe to say that seeing him like this spooks the very life out of his daughter. Exhibit A: "Who are you and what did you do to my Papa?!"

Somewhere in the background, Sakura snorts aloud as she folds up laundry. She had a similar reaction when he showed it to her too, so Sasuke takes it all in stride now. With the way his life turned out, he's pretty used to people treating him as if he's from another planet.

So, Sasuke says, "Ah." He taps a finger on another photo of Nii-san, preferably one with no dirt-clad, six-to-eight year old Sasuke showing off his teeth. In this one, Nii-san is sitting at a port, eating dango and looking out at the lake at their estate. Sasuke remembers dango was Itachi's favorite treat. "Back to the main character," he deadpans, drawing his daughter's attention back.

"Right. Yes." She nods, adjusting her glasses and closing her gaping mouth. "He looks like a peaceful person when you show me these sorts of photos."

He had not shown her any photos of Itachi in action, because he knows it would be complex to explain the story: train harder, surpass Nii-san, earn Otou-san's approval, need more power, it's not enough, I feel so weak— And well, she's still not ready to hear that story yet. If ever.

"He was," nods Sasuke. "He was very kind. I looked up to him more than I did anyone else."

"Even more than Nanadaime-sama?"

He thinks carefully. "I… value both." He hears his wife snort again, making him wonder why Naruto had to be his dumb best friend. Keyword: dumb. "They both had sets of ideals they fought to stand by. They weren't so easily swayed by anything." Unlike Sasuke and power. Sasuke and revenge. Sasuke was so easily swayed, it was ridiculous. He kept swaying and swaying while Itachi and Naruto were their own anchors. "I've come to admire them for it." (Sadly, he knows Sakura will blab to Naruto one of these days.)

He sits in his nostalgia, whereas Sarada looks contemplatively at Itachi's photo. Then, she says, "I have a great uncle."

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. "Even when you don't know him?"

"I know him," she says, being confusing. "You told me about him, so I know him now." Sarada takes the album and flips through the pages. There aren't too many pictures of his family in it, for these were all very old and worn out, barely salvaged from the massacre aftermath. "I didn't ask for his whole entire life story." She touches a slightly tattered photo of Itachi holding hands with three year old Sasuke. "I just wanted an idea of who he is. It'd be kinda nice if I could tell the others that I had an uncle and could actually describe him rather than just: Oh, I have an uncle. He died, though."

"Hmm," he hums, in thought.

"I guess a part of me just wanted to know who the rest of my family was like," Sarada confesses, leaning back against the couch, looking at the ceiling fan. "Boruto and Himawari can talk about their uncle, grandfather, cousins—all of them. ChouChou doesn't seem to know anyone outside her Mama and Papa either, so I couldn't ask her how it feels. I was just… curious." Sasuke listens with a heavy heart. "Does that make me weird, Papa?"

"No," he replies, honestly. "You're just Sarada."

"How reassuring," she snorts, grinning, looking like the splitting resemblance of Sakura.

Sasuke eyes the clock. "It's time for bed. You still need to attend training in the morning."

She closes the album shut and sets it on Sasuke's lap. Sarada jauntily hops off the couch. "Hey, reminding me is Mama's job!" Still, she complies obediently, trudging herself down a hallway to her room. "Night, Mama! Papa!"

Silence enshrouds the living room by then. Sasuke looks at the album and pries open the book to the photo of Nii-san piggybacking him at seven year olds. He hopes Nii-san knows that he still loves him too.

In the back, Sakura smiles tenderly as she quietly carries the laundry basket into the master bedroom.