[AN: And after a couple-month delay, I'm back with a nice, angsty Sasuke chapter! I do apologize for the slow posting schedule. I got into a bit of a groove with my other in-progress story, so this one lagged behind a bit. Thanks for all the feedback on the first chapter, as well as the follows and favorites. This series is a guilty pleasure of mine to write, and its lovely to hear that you've enjoyed reading it as well. The usual caveats apply: This story is rated M (although this particular chapter is more of a hard T), and I do not own Naruto.]
Uchiha Sasuke had always hated mornings.
At first blush, this trait may have seemed somewhat out of character. After all, pretty much from the moment he'd started crawling, Sasuke had been all about doing… growing and running and training and studying and trying (and failing) to make up for all the time he'd lost to the stunningly unfair fact that he was five years Itachi's junior. Given that simple truth alone, he really should have been a criminally early riser, just like his beloved nii-san, he of the four-thirty wake-up calls and five AM shurikenjutsu sessions.
But he was not. For, while Sasuke could certainly see Itachi's point - working out before the sun rose was certainly one way to get in another few thousand reps - he found it impossible to let go of his deeply rooted conviction that mornings were really for people like Naruto. Pleasant people. People who liked people… who enjoyed being out and about, dropping ohayous left and right, saluting the sun, boozing at brunch, and seizing the day or whatever else pleasant people did with themselves in their spare time. No, mornings were definitely not for the Sasukes of the world, those quiet, somewhat reclusive types who preferred shadows and silence, midnight sprints through the forest around Konoha, and the immensely satisfying feeling of being able to shut oneself alone in one's bedroom at the end of the day, away from meddlesome mothers, disapproving fathers, and annoyingly perfect elder brothers.
Although, lately, a certain pink-haired kunoichi was making Sasuke reconsider the whole "not a morning person" thing. Because waking up to the early morning sun filtering through gauzy white curtains with said woman's firm little breasts, delectable hips, and shapely legs pressed up to his side after a wild night of lovemaking was something he would be exceedingly happy to do for the rest of his life. Which was very good news, indeed, because yesterday afternoon Haruno Sakura had agreed to become his wife.
Sleepily smirking to himself at the thought, Sasuke's dark eyes leisurely admired his new fiancee as she slept by his side... those luscious, pillowy lips; the smattering of freckles dusting her elegant little nose; the tangles of cotton-candy pink locks that were so her; the forehead she'd never seemed to like but he'd become particularly fond of kissing. The past six weeks hadn't been easy or simple, full of enough major life changes to last them both quite some time, but he honestly wouldn't change it - any of it - for the world.
Well, actually… there were a few things he probably would have done a bit differently, if he had the opportunity...
The proposal had gone off quite well; far better than expected, actually. Given their history, he'd anticipated that there were going to be tears of one flavor or another, but that advance knowledge hadn't made the moment any less special. He'd never exactly been the emotive type himself, but seeing Sakura so happy and knowing that he'd been the cause of that…. it made him honest-to-Kami smile. And, of course, he certainly hadn't minded the hours of "celebrating" that had followed, either.
That being said, they had some major explaining to do. For, while tradition dictated that he was technically supposed to get his parents', the Uchiha Elders', and Sakura's parents' approvals before speaking with the kunoichi herself, Sasuke hadn't actually gotten around to talking about his marriage plans with anyone else except Itachi. He'd honestly meant to, even if the prospect of doing so had made his head spin... he just hadn't quite managed to find the time. Which probably sounded like an excuse straight out of Kakashi's playbook, but it was the honest truth. What with Acting Uchiha Clan Head responsibilities, High Council meetings, the dobe's wedding (much as he'd tried to convince Naruto that he completely lacked the best man skillset, the blonde had insisted), training when he could find a spare couple of hours, and enjoying his newfound relationship, he had been a little busy lately.
Had the surprise engagement been their only news, the might very well have gotten away with the break in procedure. After all, a lot had changed in Konoha in the past three decades, and there could be no denying that Sakura was a superb match given her talents and status in the village, even if a few of the oldest Elders faulted her for her lack of Uchiha blood. That being said, when one threw in the baby, Sasuke was pretty sure that they were utterly and completely fucked.
Now, the baby wasn't a mistake. And he hadn't lied to Sakura after she'd come clean about the pregnancy. He wasn't upset… with her. Or their child. Even if it was technically a good two or three years ahead of schedule. They probably had stupid Itachi's overachiever genetics to blame for that. No. The thing that had him wary, that had him unable to properly enjoy what should have been by all accounts a deliriously happy morning, was the same damn thing that had seemingly always been a source of both intense pride and immense anxiety for him: the Uchiha clan.
It was so tempting to pretend that everything was going to be fine. Maybe it would? His mother would certainly plead their case. After all, she'd been grandbaby obsessed pretty much from the moment Itachi had turned eighteen and had certainly taken to Sakura. Several times over the past month, Sasuke had found himself wondering if his girlfriend had superseded himself as Mikoto's favorite as they chatted away over tea in the Uchiha family kitchen.
When it came to the rest of his closest family, he could obviously count on Itachi (much as he bitched about his perfect nii-san, he couldn't deny that his brother loved him dearly) and Shisui (even if he still wasn't really speaking to the sneaky bastard). His father was a bit less of a surefire bullseye, but Sasuke was still optimistic. Fugaku had been pretty frigid with Sakura those first few family dinners together, but her natural sweetness and perfectly polite demeanor - not to mention her sterling reputation in the village as both a powerhouse of a kunoichi and a gifted medic-nin - had thawed him out soon enough. Why, just last week he'd asked Sasuke with his typically neutral affect when Sakura would next be stopping by, almost as if he missed her.
But Sasuke knew better. Much as he wished it could be otherwise, not even the support of the entire Uchiha main family would shield them from what was inevitably coming. In the Uchiha Elders' eyes, their conceived-out-of-wedlock baby was a bastard, engaged or not; Sakura a vile whore and temptress for "seducing" him into sin; and himself horrifically flawed in judgment for allowing such scandal to befall the clan.
The kunai would fall swiftly, brutally, and efficiently, as had always been the Uchiha way. Sasuke would be censured and stripped of his Acting Clan Head title at the next clan gathering and Itachi recalled from Suna to lead in his stead, no doubt muttering about "foolish little brothers" for the next two or three decades. But his nii-san's frustrations and his own loss of status would only be the tip of the iceberg. For, once relieved of his clan duties, Sasuke wouldn't be allowed to simply retreat into disgrace. Oh no. A shinobi's duty was to his village first and foremost, and he was still a strapping jonin of not even twenty-five. If the Uchiha no longer had any use for him, someone else undoubtedly would. And, given his history and talents, there was no doubt in Sasuke's mind that that someone would be ANBU. Namikaze Minato was a very nice man - possibly too nice given the demands of his job - but not even he would be able to deny the practicality of it. Which would mean a return to month-long assignments, routinely risking his life, and the occasional seduction mission. And he couldn't do that to Sakura… he just couldn't.
A cold sweat had broken out across Sasuke's forehead, the stress of their situation having well and fully gotten to him. All of a sudden the soft, dreamy warmth of Sakura's feather bed felt positively smothering. Early or not, he needed to get out of there. Now.
Slipping out from under the covers, he shivered slightly as the cool air of the bedroom hit his heated skin. Not wishing to wake the slumbering kunoichi, he silently collected the clothing he'd discarded last night and dressed himself, vaguely aware that his high-collared navy clan shirt smelled from yesterday's shurikenjutsu session but not really caring. He was only about to make it worse anyway. Striding to the door, he stood for half a moment in the doorway, eyes tracing the familiar lines of Sakura's soft, shapely body, the way the disheveled sheets outlined her figure somehow managing to make her even more alluring. For a moment, he found himself tempted to wake her. But no, she - and the baby - needed all the sleep they could get.
Tracing his way down the hall and into the living room, Sasuke considered stopping off in the kitchen for a hard-boiled egg or some tea, but his churning stomach rebelled at the thought. Instead, he moved for the front door, shucking on his shinobi sandals with a half-glance at the disarrayed sofa where they'd kicked off the previous night. He was just about to be on his way when he was struck by a sudden thought. Given what had happened last time he'd up and left Sakura early in the morning without a word, he probably ought to leave a note. Because, contrary to what Itachi and his mother probably thought, he wasn't completely hopeless when it came to social cues.
The admittedly brief message scribbled and deposited on her coffee table - Gone out. Back later. S - Sasuke let himself out, performing a quick jutsu to keep away any intruders. Sakura lived in one of the safest parts of Konoha and was more than a match for petty thieves, but, as ANBU had taught him time and again, one could never be too careful. Particularly now that she was carrying precious cargo.
The early morning sun was at his back as he exited her apartment building and set course for the Uchiha District. As he walked, Sasuke found his mind whirling with a decidedly complicated blend... babies and weddings and what his parents would say and that new katon jutsu he'd been working on and last night and trying to imagine just how pissed the Uchiha Elders would be and that dispute between his cousin and his great uncle twice removed that just wouldn't die and the proposal and how Sakura was going to look when she was really pregnant and when Naruto or Itachi would be back because he could really use a good spar right now but still couldn't bring himself to talk to Shisui and how he was ever going to survive his inevitable first conversation with Sakura's parents as her fiance/baby daddy (not that they were going to find out about that anytime soon). It was all rather exhausting, and he was extremely relieved twenty-some minutes later when he finally reached the empty Uchiha training field. For training had always been one of his favorite means of de-stressing, and he had built up a lot of additional tension on the way over.
Making his way to the far side of the field where the shurikenjutsu targets were set up, Sasuke got to work stretching out his somewhat tired muscles. Between showing off to Sakura on Training Ground 3 yesterday afternoon and fucking her into the mattress last night, his lower back was less than happy. After some moderately concerning pops and crackles - maybe he should have taken Sakura up on that back massage - he pulled out his well-worn kunai kit and began some simple exercises, the welcome burn of his muscles coming to life gradually driving away his thoughts and troubles.
He was just marveling at the wonders that sweat and solitude always seemed to do for his system when an extremely familiar, extremely unwelcome voice called out to him from what sounded like halfway across the field. "Well, well, little cousin. It's been awhile since we last spoke, hasn't it?"
Fuck. He'd know that bright, teasing voice anywhere. Shisui.
It had been awhile since their last one-on-one chat. Six-plus weeks, if one wanted to get specific about it. And the lapse in conversation had been entirely intentional. For, the night of Sakura's birthday, his no-good cousin Shisui, knowing full well how much he cared about the kunoichi in question, had almost been the one to take her home. Which, Sasuke realized with sudden disgust, meant that he'd almost been the one to impregnate her. (If that was how biology worked, that was. He was pretty sure it didn't, but still, it was a shocking thought.)
Now, Sakura had told him bits and pieces of what had "really" happened. How the whole situation had apparently been some idiotic revenge plan hatched by none other than the meddlesome Yamanaka Ino. How Shisui had somehow gotten looped in, no doubt tickled by the prospect of a new way of torturing him. How Sasuke had things all backwards… that Sakura had actually been the one trying to get in Shisui's pants when Sasuke had interrupted them on the middle of the dance floor in the Twisted Kunai like the lovestricken baka he'd been. How the curly-haired bastard wasn't really to blame… that he'd actually been the one who had given Sakura that final, fateful push to patch things up with Sasuke.
But Sasuke didn't care about any of that. For the facts remained the facts. Shisui's grubby hands and lecherous lips had been all over Sakura that night despite knowing all he knew, which officially made him a filthy traitor who couldn't be trusted. Who was also, admittedly, rather useful when it came to smoothing over issues with some of the crustiest of the Elders, but even the worst sorts had their positive qualities. It was really too bad, too. Given his current predicament and the fact that Itachi was way off in Suna for Kami knew how long, Sasuke really could have used some good, solid, elder male relative advice right about then.
Shisui approached with a broad grin across his stupid, handsome face, as if he wasn't aware of what he'd done. "How've things been, Sasuke-kun? Making out well with the Elders? You seem to be navigating all the clan nonsense quite reasonably. Anything interesting to report from the High Council sessions? That isn't highly classified, of course… can't have you giving away any major village secrets, now can we?"
Sasuke resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the painfully obvious attempt at small talk. Instead, with a full-shouldered shrug and a dismissive "tch" that might even have done his tou-san proud, he launched himself into the air for another round of target practice, activating his Sharingan for good measure. That ought to get the "go the fuck away" message through.
Apparently, Shisui had even less shame that Sasuke had realized, for the bastard had the audacity to chuckle at the obviousness of his dismissal. "That dull, huh? I know, how about things with Sakura? Reo-sama was going on and on about her remarkable chakra control at last week's clan meeting. You remember him, right? The old geezer with the limp who's always bitching about the late start times? Anyway, I don't know what sort of jutsu she weaved, but charming an Elder like him is sure something..."
At the mention of Sakura's name, Sasuke felt something inside of him snap. Completely losing his focus, he airmailed his current target, his kunai embedding itself in the bark of a tree twenty feet to the left of where he'd been aiming. Landing heavily on his feet with a snarl, he glared daggers at his antagonizer, the three prongs of his tomoe spinning wildly, waves of killing intent radiating off of him. "You of all people have no business talking about Sakura," he spat, teeth gnashing together in white-hot rage.
Shisui didn't even flinch. Instead, grin broadening into what Sasuke was positively apoplectic to see what a smirk, he shunshinned over to the tree that had been the accidental victim of his wrath, expertly pried the kunai from its resting place, and casually twirled it between his left index and middle fingers. "Still broody from the party, eh Sasuke-kun?" he observed, with a good-natured chuckle. "You know, it was only a bit of kissing, and she was a single lady at the time. If we're going to be completely honest with one another, I can't deny that I wasn't tempted for a moment or four. After all, Sakura's one hell of a kunoichi. But, truth be told, pink's never really been my color… although, it certainly seems to suit you."
He paused for a moment, casually tossing the kunai at a nearby dummy and scoring what was unsurprisingly a perfect bullseye. Then, tone growing somewhat more serious, he addressed Sasuke once more. "Besides… everything seems to have worked out for the best. Why, from what Mikoto-obasan told me at lunch last week, even Fugaku-ojisan has taken a shine to her, and Kami knows he never likes anything. Well, other than Itachi. And your mother. And the Uchiha name. And power. But I digress. Surely, you've got bigger fish to fry than Shunshin no Shisui these days?"
Sasuke nodded his head the smallest fraction, weighing Shisui's words. He certainly sounded genuine. As far as he knew, the bastard hadn't actually tried to pull any further funny business since that night at the bar six weeks ago, which was another point in his favor. And he was certainly right about everything else that was presently on Sasuke's plate… obsessing over his flirt of a cousin's dirty dancing with his fiance before they were even exclusive really wasn't worth his time. Besides, he could trust Sakura. She might have been halfway interested then, but now - after six weeks together and with everything they'd been through - she'd never...
His eyes faded to black in a silent acknowledgment of his cousin's good sense, and Shisui let out a surprisingly heartfelt sigh. "Good. Well, I'm glad we've worked out that little misunderstanding. You know, before he left, Itachi asked me to keep half an eye on you. Something about wanting to make sure that the Elders didn't run you too ragged. Having you go all twitchy the minute I came within fifty feet of you certainly wasn't what he'd intended. But, all joking aside, I do hope you know that my door is always open, Sasuke."
Hn. Shisui's door was always open, and he could definitely stand to use it. Sasuke eyed the man standing before him, considering the matter anew. Shisui was a decade his senior, well acquainted with Uchiha clan affairs, a fellow ANBU, and quite experienced in the relationship realm, even if he'd never before gotten engaged or knocked anyone up (at least as far as Sasuke knew). He was also Itachi's most trusted confidante and, up until the incident at Sakura's birthday, had always seemed to have Sasuke's best interests at heart. Perhaps, in Itachi's absence, he could trust his cousin.
The younger man wet his lips somewhat nervously, trying to find the best way to put the mess that was his current situation to words. "Shisui," he began rather awkwardly, "There is something. It's a bit of a sensitive situation, but…"
He broke off, the memory of Sakura's feminine hips rolling against Shisui's crotch in the dim lighting of the bar suddenly flooding his mind, the hungry, lustful look in her emerald eyes and the ruby glow of his cousin's taunting Sharingan both inflaming his anger anew. No. He couldn't do it. Much as he wished to confide in someone, Shisui's treachery still stung too much.
"What can I do for you, cousin?" The older man asked, dark eyes glittering with curiosity.
Sasuke sighed heavily, raking his mind for a plausible excuse. Given all the Uchiha clan nonsense he had to put up with these days, it wasn't too hard to find one. "It's Genzo's rent dispute with Fumito-ojiisan. It's gone on long enough. You're friends with Genzo-san. I was hoping you could tell him to cut the crap and pay up already."
Shisui's brow quirked somewhat incredulously, but if he doubted the veracity of what Sasuke was saying, he clearly thought better of questioning it. With a business-like nod, he grinned pleasantly, although it was impossible to miss the fact that the smile didn't quite reach his cousin's eyes. "Ah. Of course, Sasuke. Consider it done. Now, if that is indeed everything, I'll leave you to your shurikenjutsu practice, shall I?"
Sasuke retrieved another kunai from his pack with a casual shrug, grunting noncommittally. Shisui was very probably harmless… he saw that now. But the shred of doubt about his cousin's motives could not be denied, nor could the memory of that vile lip lock.
The next week passed slowly and uncomfortably. As usual, Sasuke found himself sitting in on what had to be at least eight or nine meetings a day as the carousel of clan engagements, High Council meetings, and other ad hoc appointments concerning all things Uchiha went round and round. His schedule left him with perilously little time for anything, although he did manage to reconnect with Sakura on Tuesday for twenty or so minutes during her lunch break at the hospital.
After a few minutes of heated kissing in her office - he'd been tempted to taking things further, but Sakura was frustratingly wary of engaging in extracurricular activities at work - they'd quickly and efficiently settled on a rough plan of action. The baby would stay a secret until a couple of weeks after the wedding, while they'd break the news of their engagement that coming weekend. Tired of his mother's prying questions and wanting the world (ie, Lee and Kiba) to know that Sakura was permanently off the market, Sasuke had argued for making the announcement immediately. Somewhat surprisingly, Sakura had rather forcefully demurred, wanting to wait a few additional days, until her parents would be in town. And so, internally grimacing at the thought of just how awkward his life had become, Sasuke had found himself agreeing to ask him mother about inviting the Harunos over for a Saturday evening dinner that would also double as a long-awaited meeting of the parents.
He broke the news when he got home Monday night, the warm glow in Mikoto's dark eyes as she delightedly agreed to the plan sending a nervous chill up his spine. As the rest of the week ticked by, Sasuke found himself quickly coming to dread the upcoming dinner party. Wednesday night, he wrote to Itachi, finally putting the news of their engagement and Sakura's pregnancy to paper. While his missive was brief, it was actually somewhat freeing to know that he'd told someone else what had happened, that the burden was no longer simply his and Sakura's bear, and, most of all, that Itachi had never before let him down when it came to providing good, solid advice. On the less positive side of things, he'd forgotten to ask Sakura if she minded him knowing, which was probably a big relationship no-no, but it wasn't like his nii-san would go about telling anyone. Not only was Itachi an immensely private person when it came to his personal life, but he stood to lose almost as much as Sasuke himself if the Uchiha Elders caught wind of their secret.
Thursday took forever to get through - Shisui's attempt to reason with Genzo had failed spectacularly, which led to an emergency clan meeting and an Elder-sanctioned notice to the stubborn ass that failure to pay Fumito what he was due by next Tuesday would result in his swift eviction from the District - while Friday was slightly better. That was, until Sasuke got home two hours after dark to find his mother waiting at the kitchen table with a bowl of soup and a burning desire to discuss the menu for tomorrow's dinner.
Now, Sasuke was no cook. And he'd met the Harunos once, a decade ago, at some stupid Team 7 mixer Kakashi had been blackmailed into arranging by the Yondaime. As a result, the idea that he would have any sort of deep insights into whether Sakura's parents would prefer beef or salmon was really beyond him. And when Mikoto had started on dessert… well, Sasuke loved his mother dearly, but even he had his limits. Declaring himself exhausted, he'd rapidly excused himself, grabbed a tomato from the counter for a bedtime snack, and hightailed it to his bedroom, his kaa-san's beleaguered cry about "just wanting to be sure that we make a good impression on the people who might very well be your future in-laws, Sasuke-kun!" ringing in his pink-tinged ears.
That night, he slept restlessly, mind spinning with nervous thoughts of tomorrow night. From the little Sakura had said over the years, her parents sounded like nice, normal retired shinobi… her mother sweet if a bit high strung and her father exceedingly kind with a mischievous sense of humor. Given that Sasuke had survived almost twenty-five years of Mikoto and Fugaku, not to mention all the life-or-death experiences he'd had over the course of his shinobi career, the Harunos should have been a breeze. Yet, painfully aware of his social ineptitude, the fact that he really really should have at least introduced himself before proposing to their daughter, and the knowledge that he would be expected to look Haruno Kizashi square in the eye and welcome him to his parents house while sitting on the secret that he had totally impregnated his little Cherry Blossom, he was more or less at his wit's ends. Tch. What a disaster.
Sasuke woke Saturday morning with a splitting headache. After dressing himself in an all black ensemble that befit his current mood quite nicely, he made his way to the kitchen, grunted a tight-lipped good morning to his parents, and set the kettle on the stove, figuring that some of the chamomile tea from Itachi's stash might help to sooth his fraying nerves. As he waited for the water to boil, he furtively eyed his father, who was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table, his mouth set in a firmly downturned line. Outwardly, he appeared to be his usual, ornery self, although Sasuke had a sneaking suspicion that he was also less than looking forward to the evening's affairs. Meanwhile, his mother was positively dancing around the kitchen, already beginning work on tonight's feast by the look of the sink full of potatoes she was midway through scrubbing. "Sasuke-kun, did you sleep well?" she cooed, giving him a warm smile. "Is there anything special you'd like for breakfast? Looking forward to tonight?"
No, no, and no. Sasuke shrugged noncommittally, not wishing to upset the woman but also definitely not in the mood for conversation. "That's all right, kaa-san," he replied shortly, pouring the now-boiling water into the earthen mug containing his tea bag, "I'll be leaving in a few minutes. Clan business."
His father harrumphed, in no way, shape, or form having gotten over the fact that he was no longer Uchiha clan head, while Mikoto frowned slightly, dark eyes full of motherly concern. "The Elders work you too hard, Sasuke. Meeting before nine on a Saturday morning… and on such an important day too…"
Sasuke grimaced as he took a sip of the tea. Far too sweet for his liking. "It's just a dinner," he murmured, as much to himself as to Mikoto. It wasn't just a dinner… but she wasn't supposed to know that yet.
The woman hummed rather knowingly, turning her attention back to the sink, and Sasuke found himself wondering not for the first time if she possessed Yamanaka blood. "Whatever you say. Just make sure you're home by five. The Harunos are supposed to get here around six, and you'll want to leave plenty of time to freshen up. After all, you only get to make a first impression once!"
He was so done with this conversation. Taking another sip of the tea - seriously, how in Kami's name did Itachi drink this crap? - he set the half-empty mug down on the counter, thanked his mother (he wasn't entirely sure for what, but it seemed the appropriate thing to do), and nodded to his father, which earned him a vague grunt of acknowledgment. Then, crossing to the front door, he slipped on his sandals and made his way out onto the street, trying and failing to put the coming evening out of his mind.
Unlike the rest of the week, the day positively flew by. One minute, Sasuke was entering the clan building that had more or less been his primary residence since taking over as Acting Clan Head, and, the next, it was quarter to six, and he was shunshinning home, his mother's comment about first impressions echoing somewhat threateningly through his mind. He really hadn't meant to cut things quite so close, but right as he'd been starting to make his way to the door, he'd found himself accosted by one of the younger Elders, Uchiha Yoshi, which had resulted in a rather involved twenty-minute lecture about the merits of universal katon and shurikenjutsu training prior to the enrollment of Uchiha youths into the Academy.
Barreling into the entrance way of his parents' home, he found himself salivating from the heavenly aroma of roasting meat. Probably shouldn't have skipped lunch. Poking his head into the kitchen, he met eyes with his mother, clad in a formal navy Uchiha clan kimono, her hair done up into some sort of complicated-looking twist and a spotless white apron tied around her slender waist. "Oh thank goodness, Sasuke! I was just starting to worry that you'd ducked out on us, and we couldn't have that." Her eyes jumped to the clock over the stove. "You'd better hurry! Sakura-chan is always so prompt, and I know you'll want to be by the door to greet the Harunos the minute they arrive."
He didn't want that actually, much as he was looking forward to seeing Sakura after a four-day hiatus, but it was much too late to back out now, and his mother did tend to know best when it came to social matters. Besides, it wasn't all bad. After tonight, they could stop hiding at least one secret, which would hopefully make their lives a little less stressful. Probably wishful thinking, given the whole baby thing…
With a short "ah," Sasuke ducked off to the bathroom for a three-minute shower, a four-minute wrangling of the formal kimono that Mikoto had laid out for him (she was going so overboard with this whole make a good impression on the Harunos thing), and a five-minute battle with his hair (which he lost decidedly, but that was fine because Sakura said she liked it messy anyway… something about bedhead being sexy). Just as he was contemplating whether or not a drop or two of gel would have been a better idea than his natural state, a resounding knock alerted him to the exceedingly disconcerting fact that the Harunos had arrived. Go time.
Stalking down the hall, Sasuke reached the front door just behind his mother, somewhat bemused despite his nerves by the discovery that his father was nowhere in sight. Coward. Mikoto's eyes ran critically over his appearance, smile spreading and then fading as her gaze reached the top of his head. "Your hair, Sasuke-kun. It really does have a mind of its own. Well, I suppose it can't be helped. Ready?"
Sasuke's stomach flipped unpleasantly. "Ah," he lied, fighting the urge to scowl. Sakura's parents. First impressions.
With that, the door swung open to reveal the Haruno family. As his mother assumed the demeanor of the perfect hostess, graciously welcoming their guests, Sasuke took the opportunity to properly size up the situation. His eyes ran to Sakura first, standing on the left side of the doorway. Well versed in how seriously Uchiha Mikoto took family affairs, she'd kicked her usual attire up quite a few notches and was clad in an elegant mint-green kimono, decorated with the blossoms that were her namesake - probably her mother's idea… she herself had never really been one for cherry blossom puns - and tied with a white obi that accented her petite frame. As their gazes met, her full lips turned upwards into what he recognized as a vaguely nervous grin that sent his own heart hammering in his chest. Yes, they would make it through this night of awkwardness. Together.
Fortified by the sight of his fiancee and aware of his mother's expectant stare, Sasuke nodded his head, eyes sliding over his future in-laws as he quietly murmured that it was a pleasure to see them. Haruno Kizashi was a tall, somewhat burly man with a friendly, honest face; bright green eyes that strongly recalled Sakura's own; and a shock of dusty pink hair styled into a shape that could only be described as starfish like. And to think, he'd been nervous about what the Harunos would think of his own unruly mop. To his right was his wife, Mebuki, a thin, blonde woman who stood about a head taller than Sakura herself, her somewhat timid smile mirroring her daughter's. They appeared to be a nice, normal family, just as he'd vaguely remembered from back when they'd been genin. Nothing to be afraid of. Entirely expected. He could deal with this...
That was, until Kizashi pulled Sasuke in for an entirely shocking, decidedly Naruto-like hug, a look of sheer joy stretched across his far too enthusiastic face. "A pleasure indeed! Haruno Kizashi… but please, call me Kizashi. You know, I was just saying to Mebuki and Sakura on the way over… our little Cherry Blossom used to talk about you nonstop way back during your Academy days! To think, almost two decades later, here we are!"
Okay, so Sakura's tou-san was very possibly crazy. She had warned him that her father could be handful. He just hadn't realized how literally she'd meant it. Through sheer force of will and the guilt-inducing knowledge that Haruno Kizashi would probably be feeling very differently about him if he knew exactly what he had done to darling daughter, Sasuke resisted the urge to forcibly remove himself from Kizashi's surprisingly powerful clutches, instead channeling a cat who knew he'd be able to slink away if he played the game long enough. He was sure that he looked positively ridiculous, and the sound of Sakura's somewhat embarrassed giggle from just a few feet away was prompt confirmation of that fact.
Very fortunately, Haruno Mebuki also seemed to sense Sasuke's discomfort. Her right hand reached out to rest rather authoritatively on her husband's left arm, the firmness of her tone rather reminiscent of Sakura's medic-nin demeanor. "Now then, Kizashi. Don't you think we should give Uchiha-san a bit of space? As I'm sure you remember from the old days, most active-duty shinobi are… less than accustomed to such displays of affection."
It appeared that Kizashi was just as susceptible to his wife's quiet authority as all of Sakura's patients save those with the surname "Hatake" were to hers. Relinquishing his grip on Sasuke, the mauve-haired man grinned somewhat sheepishly, giving Mikoto the perfect window to reclaim the floor. "Kizashi-san, Mebuki-san, may I invite you properly inside? Now that you've met Sasuke, it would be my honor to introduce you to my husband, Fugaku, as well. He should be just in the kitchen, I believe…"
Ha. More like hiding in his study. Sakura's father might have been far too much, but there was at least one good thing that Sasuke would be getting out of all of this. His own stern, stiff-lipped tou-san was going to be positively miserable at having to play the role of doting host, and seeing his father squirm was always quality entertainment.
Hanging back behind the trio of Mebuki, Kizashi, and Mikoto, Sasuke surreptitiously wrapped his right arm around Sakura's slender waist, pulling her in close for a kiss the minute that their parents were out of eyesight. "Sorry about him," she murmured softly against his lips. "I tried telling him that you weren't really a hugger, but he's never been very good about boundaries..."
"Hn. It's fine," Sasuke replied, fingertips idly stroking the small of her back through the silky fabric of her kimono. Or, at least, having her by his side certainly made up for it. Lowering his tone, he leaned in towards her ear, a stray wisp of pink hair tickling his chin rather enticingly as he asked the question that had been dancing in the forefront of his mind all week. "Sakura, when do you want to…?"
A shiver coursed through the kunoichi's body, although it was hard to say whether it was prompted by the proximity of his lips or the anticipation of their impending announcement. "Dessert," she replied shortly, green eyes wide and doe-like in the dim lighting of the entrance hall. So lovely.
Unable to help himself, his lips traced the shell of her ear to the side of her neck - one of her favorite spots - trailing feather-light kisses in their wake. At that, Sakura sighed wistfully, long, pink lashes flitting shut. "Mm... Sasuke-kun…" she breathed, igniting a hungry fire deep within his belly that had him darkly tempted to throw caution to the winds and sweep her off to his bedroom, parents or not.
That was, until the sudden, take-no-prisoners call of his mother to come set the table brought him back to reality, a disgruntled "tch" escaping his lips. Regretfully releasing Sakura's hips with a somewhat frustrated "later" - why did it always have to be later? - he ushered the rather dreamy-eyed woman down the hall and into the brightly lit kitchen, suddenly grateful for the voluminous fabric of his kimono. For sporting an obvious hard-on in front of the Harunos was not the first impression he intended to make.
As they entered, his mother shot him a knowing half-smile, not missing a beat as she explained to a nodding Mebuki that they'd be having just a simple family meal… braised beef, roasted potatoes, rice, and steamed vegetables, with her homemade green tea ice cream for dessert. Annoying, clever woman. Meanwhile, at his father's end of the table, Kizashi had locked onto a tight-lipped Fugaku and was midway through boisterously recounting some C-rank mission to Tea Country he'd been on during his youth. Leading Sakura to the seat next to his own, Sasuke swooped up the chopsticks and napkins his mother had laid out, channeling every bit of his ANBU infiltration training to keep himself quiet and unobtrusive as possible (although, he admittedly couldn't help casting the shadow of a smirk in his disgruntled father's direction).
They sat down to dinner a few minutes later, Sasuke's parents in their usual places at either end of the table, Sakura and Mebuki on either side of Fugaku, and Sasuke and Kizashi on either side of Mikoto. Which, of course, meant that the ball of unbridled energy that was Sakura's father was directly across from Sasuke.
He wasn't sure whether he should be miserable or grateful for the seating arrangements. Kizashi was positively exhausting, and there was definitely something to be said for enjoying his mother's superb cooking without interruption, but his constant chatter had certain silver linings as well. Other than throwing in a few "hns" and "ahs" for good measure, Sasuke didn't really have to contribute much of anything to the conversation, which he never minded. Moreover, the constant jokes and tales from Sakura's childhood had her cheeks a rather pleasant shade of pink, which was definitely a good look for her. Or maybe that was because his left hand had found its way underneath her kimono and was slowly in the process of reacquainting itself with her right thigh…
As the meal ran its course and his mother reached out for Kizashi's empty plate to presumably begin clearing the table, Sakura jumped up from her seat, depriving Sasuke's fingers of her supple flesh just as they were beginning to reach distinctly interesting territory. Tch. Foiled again. Shooting him a rather threatening glare that he admittedly deserved - feeling up his fiancee under the table during their "meet the parents" dinner probably wasn't his best idea ever - Sakura's attention turned to their hostess. "Don't worry about the dishes, Mikoto-san. I'll take care of it."
His mother's dark eyes positively radiated happiness. "Arigato, Sakura-chan! Kizashi-san, Mebuki-san, have I mentioned yet what a truly thoughtful daughter you've raised? It's been so wonderful having her around these past couple of months."
Kizashi chuckled heartily, patting his own wife's hand as Sakura busied herself with the dishes, complexion positively crimson. "Hai, our Sakura-chan is a special one," he murmured warmly, eyes glowing emerald as they tracked the young woman's movements. "Other than a bit of a temper now and then - I can't imagine where she gets it from! - and an independent streak that is all Mebuki, she's a true joy for both of us. You know, I always heard that daughters could tear your heart out in ways that sons never could, but we really couldn't have asked for anything more."
At the man's heartfelt confession, Sasuke's stomach somersaulted rather unpleasantly, stirringly reminded of the full implications of the secrets they were keeping. Would Haruno Kizashi still be singing the same tune if he knew about the baby? But there was no time for brooding, because Sakura was quickly returning to the table with a tray full of ice cream dishes. At long last, it was time for dessert… and their big reveal.
After distributing the little glass bowls, skipping over Sasuke in awareness of his lack of a sweet tooth, Sakura returned to her seat, right hand finding his left on the tabletop. Glancing towards his fiancee, he noticed the resolve shining in her eyes, a silent confirmation that she was going to do it. "Kaa-san, tou-san, Mikoto-san, Uchiha-san," she began slowly and somewhat tentatively, "There's something important that we have to tell you. Sasuke and I…"
She trailed off, taking a deep breath as she gently squeezed Sasuke's hand. "We're engaged."
Mikoto reacted first, dark eyes immediately finding his own, sparkling with what was either absolute joy or utter and complete rage. "Sasuke-kun… is this true?"
"Ah," he confirmed with a nod, praying to the gods that it was the former. If his own mother wasn't on board, they were absolutely sunk. "As of last weekend."
At that, all hell broke loose, the green tea ice cream completely forgotten. His mother was out of her chair in a flash, pulling him in for a fierce hug that he found himself not really minding despite his usual distaste for such closeness. Meanwhile, Sakura's mother was on her feet as well, face wet with happy tears as she hugged her completely stupefied husband. Interesting. So that was how one shut up Haruno Kizashi. On the other hand, Fugaku looked pretty much the same as he always did, although it was impossible to miss the small smirk of bemusement that had crept over his features.
Releasing Sasuke after giving him a firm kiss on the cheek, Mikoto rushed for Sakura next, pulling the pink-cheeked kunoichi in for her own tight embrace. "Engaged. I am so delighted for you two," she breathed. Then, she let out a chuckle, shooting Sasuke a full-bodied smirk of her own. So that's what you've been looking so nervous about all week, Sasuke-kun!"
"Hn." If his mother only knew.
From the far end of the table, Fugaku spoke up, tone slow and steady as he helped himself to a bite of half-melted ice cream. "Sasuke has reason to be wary, Mikoto. I don't suppose either of you have spoken to the Elders yet?"
Of course. His tou-san would bring that up. "I will now," he replied, aware that Sakura was eyeing him somewhat nervously over his mother's shoulder.
His father looked a bit as if he wanted to say more, but his mother beat him to it. Releasing Sakura, she scowled rather imposingly at her husband, hands coming to her hips. "Oh Fugaku, don't start with that nonsense in front of our guests. The Elders will be thrilled, and you know it. Sakura-chan is a fine woman and a wonderful kunoichi. Now, why don't you get the sake… it's high time for a toast!"
Much as Sasuke loved his mother, he couldn't ignore the fact that she was exaggerating a bit, but they'd sort that out later. As his father ducked off to fulfill his wife's command and Mikoto fetched glasses, Kizashi finally seemed to recover the will to speak. Scratching the side of his head rather dazedly, he let out a rather half-hearted chuckle, green eyes locked on his daughter as she stood by Sasuke's side. "Well, my little Cherry Blossom, it appears that I may have spoken a bit too soon about the things you could do to my heart…."
To his right, his wife glared daggers, and he nodded, evidently switching course. "But, of course, your kaa-san and I are very happy for you and Sasuke-san. Just… a little… surprised, is all…"
"Have the two of you thought about the wedding date?" Mebuki interrupted sagely. "Late fall? Winter? Perhaps next spring? Spring is such a lovely time of the year in Konoha. But, of course, you know well how much I love the cherry blossoms, Sakura."
Glancing to his left, Sasuke met eyes with his fiancee. As it happened, they had discussed the date briefly during his Tuesday visit to the hospital, and Sakura had told him what they'd need to do, timeline wise, in order to seal the deal before the baby made itself too obvious. Never one for second thoughts once fully committed to a course of action, he was fully on board with the schedule she'd proposed. But whether their parents would be (not to mention the Elders) was a different question.
Licking her lips, Sakura nodded, meeting her mother's gaze square on. "Hai. We have. We were thinking June."
Mebuki looked slightly disappointed at that, but she recovered well enough, serene smile quickly returning to her face. "Oh. Well, an extended engagement is supposed to be fashionable these days…. I understand that that weapons kunoichi you're friends with - I think she's marrying a Hyuuga boy? - hasn't even picked a date yet, and they've been engaged for months now. And that will give us plenty of time to better get to know, Sasuke-san. Isn't that right, Kizashi?"
"Actually, kaa-san, I think you misunderstood. I meant this June. As in... six weeks from now."
The Harunos' jaws dropped as one, and it seemed that they weren't the only ones taken aback by Sakura's pronouncement. From across the kitchen, Mikoto let out a rather startled gasp, the tray of uchiwa-branded glasses in her hands taking a rather dangerous wobble that only her kunoichi training was able to save. "Did I hear that right? You want to have the wedding in six weeks? Sakura-chan, Sasuke-kun, that should be fine, but... we're got a lot of work to do!"
At that, Sakura let out a rather nervous laugh, a rather appealing flush coming over her complexion. "I suppose that's true!" she replied rather gamely, giving Sasuke's hand a sweet little squeeze that he found himself lacking the fortitude to return. For, knowing his mother like he did, he had a sneaking suspicion that Sakura had less than no idea of what she was in for.