~ Kinda short chapter, but again: DO NOT QUESTION THE INSANITYGUIBDKSDSDJKSJDVSDKD
~ Also, can somebody tell me if the formatting works well on their end? It feels like it differs between mobile and web versions.
The evening grew late.
As it was because of her fussing of her guest's otherworldly cuteness that disabled the cute girl from leaving earlier, Mikoto told the girl to simply sleep at one of the extra bedrooms. Shisui had already left to go to a medic (for some reason, he was busy twitching confusing eye-messages of "WHY ME," "THE PAIN," and "AIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE") while the other boys have already went upstairs. Her husband retreated to his study for some last minute work.
"Don't worry," Mikoto assured the Cute Girl, "Naruto-kun often sleeps here, so you don't have to worry about the other rumor of our clan's infectious crazy."
That's debatable, Sakura thought, watching in morbid fascination as the older female ate an abominable concoction of wasabi and strawberry-tea ice cream. Outward, she asked, "What about, um, Itachi-san?"
Earlier, Mikoto-san had been burning with indignation as she shared the stories of her baby's treatment when Fugaku-sama emerged from the kitchen in awful timing. As the patriarch was busy dodging various cutlery and furniture thrown by his wife, Naruto had taken the chance to pounce on Itachi-san's ramen while Sakura and the others took the chance to pounce to safety. On hearing Naruto's loud anguish, a curious Sakura had peeked from under the safety of the table and saw Naruto on his knees, cursing the heavens, but no sight nor smell of the ramen, not even spills. It was like a ghost had grabbed the bowl full of food in the midst of chaos, completely unnoticed.
At that moment, Sakura's back had crawled; the Myth was most likely real, the previously cool and hot Shisui-san could sing a higher note than she can when hit with a stray fork at his nether regions, and more importantly, staying here any longer may mean the end of sanity.
"He's our guardian angel," Mikoto explained as she smiled, shaking the Cute Girl from her thoughts. After scraping her bowl clean to the point that it almost didn't need to be washed, Mikoto promptly reached for the tub of ice cream.
Sakura frowned, half in awe that her host was still hungry another round of her craving, and half in reasonable skepticism. It might be a little rude and ungrateful, but she really couldn't believe the fantastical notion of a civilian hermit being the nightly protector of a shinobi family. Though the thought prompted a question. "Doesn't he sleep?"
Now reaching for a tube of wasabi paste, Mikoto answered, "He's human, dear, but I understand your question." Her smile dimmed. "I just don't know when or where he sleeps."
"…Ever since this started?" Sakura asked in mixed awe and dread. The Uchiha matriarch has put two scoops of strawberry-tea ice cream into the dollop of wasabi, and proceeded to mash them together into a light brown sludge, then licked the spoon without preamble. Sakura flinched at the mother's pleased expression.
"Yes," Mikoto answered pleasantly. Then without warning, she burst in tears.
Somewhat alarmed, Sakura stood and cautiously made her to the other side of the table. The crying mother did show she could flip a table to plant accurately at her moving target's face. Then again, she might just be having a strong awakening from her senses from eating deplorable dessert. "Mikoto-san?"
"I MISS MY BABY!" Mikoto bawled as all Uchiha propriety flew out the window. "All those birthdays! All those—" the rest dissolved into incoherent babbles of her raven-haired angel. She clutched the nearest object in despair — her bowl of wasabi and strawberry ice-cream-tea — and the feel of the cold porcelain reminded her of her need. Mikoto sobbed, and shoveled a spoon to her mouth.
Despite the slightly (very) pathetic, sad, and disgusting sight, the woman's words stirred something within Sakura. How did it feel to pass a birthday, something that was supposed to be a joyous celebration, when the celebrant refused to show himself, very far but obviously achingly near? How did it feel to have your own little boy run from you, fear you, like you're the nightmare you're supposed to comfort him from? How did it feel to never be able to kiss your son goodnight, all because he said that it made him vulnerable to people who want him to do something that went against his beliefs?
Seeing the kind-hearted pregnant mother breakdown over a bowl of suspicious content made Sakura's heart constrict. On one hand, what Itachi-san just did was extremely selfish, dragging his family through pain and humiliation just to escape, but… learning about the lengths the clan went to get their errant heir back, she also felt a little bit justified on his behalf.
"There, there?" she hesitantly patted the mother's arm when her cries subsided, the bowl empty.
"I'm sorry," Mikoto sniffed, smiling gratefully. "It's my third time getting pregnant, yet the hormones still manage to beat me every single time."
Sakura merely smiled, tongue frozen when Mikoto reached to her ingredients to make a new batch of the unholy concoction. "Everything will be alright," she managed weakly.
A new spoon of sludge in her mouth, Mikoto moaned in delight.