When their child was born, Sakura saw dread and fear in Kakashi's eyes that she couldn't place. At first, she thought she gave birth to a stillborn but when she heard the ear-splitting cry of her newborn, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The sound of that first cry cut through the hospital room, both a relief and a reminder of everything that had come before it. She had been terrified. Terrified of what might happen, terrified of the future, and the overwhelming weight of being a mother—of doing it all alone. But now, there was the baby, the tiny life that had somehow brought them back together, and with it came an unfamiliar warmth that started to fill the empty spaces in her heart.

Kakashi, standing beside her, seemed frozen in place, his eyes wide with disbelief. His face was pale, the faint lines of exhaustion more pronounced than usual, but his gaze never wavered from the baby. His hand gripped the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles were white, but when the nurse placed their newborn into his arms, it was as though the world shifted. He was trembling, his hand cradling the baby like something fragile, something precious—and something that, for all the mistakes he had made, had somehow brought him to this moment.

Sakura's heart ached as she watched him, the way his expression softened, his guard coming down in the face of something more vulnerable than he'd ever allowed himself to be. He looked at the baby as if he was seeing the future in those small, delicate features. And maybe, in that moment, he was.

"What do you think, Kakashi?" Sakura asked him, one night as he cradled the girl in his arms, refusing to hand her over to her. She can see that he holds the infant with tenderness that belied the strength beneath the layers of his skin. But one looks at him with his daughter and they can see that he holds her like she's the most expensive glass figurine: a treasure but fragile.

"She's perfect." he murmured, still in awe of the little girl, but his tone hints something more. Like she's only seeing the tip of a massive iceberg.

"But?" she prodded.

He hesitated for moment, his eyes looked at everything but not her, before he sighed deeply. "I can't help but think of the stories my father told me before." He admitted. "My father used to tell me stories when he was still alive." he started. "Well, more of lessons hidden in the stories. He told me, 'Kakashi, you never raise your hand to a woman, unless she's your enemy that seeks to destroy our land'."

He looked at her, sitting by his side apologetically. Knowing that he broke the promise that he uttered long ago. "Then, he told me, that as a boy, I am his pride and joy. The symbol of his strength. People said that my father was blessed to be given a son like me. And it was always phrase like that, son like me, son like him, son like Kakashi. Never a child like him." He explained.

He looked back at the infant in his arms and his heart squeezed tightly as his father's words echoed through his mind. "Then one night, he told me. Children are the pride and joy of the parents. Sons are the symbol of their father's strength and their mother's kindness. Daughters are the karma of the father and the symbol of sacrifice of the mother." he looked at Sakura, his grey eyes clear and the fear that rooted there is easy to see, he continued: "My father once believed that sons will continue their family's legacy, while a daughters will be the repayment for her father's atrocities."

Sakura listened intently, her heart both heavy and warm with the weight of Kakashi's words. The baby in his arms, their daughter, slept peacefully, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling around her parents. The soft, rhythmic breathing of the child was the only sound that filled the room, a stark contrast to the intensity of the conversation.

Kakashi's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, as if the story from his past, the weight of his father's words, was still haunting him. He was staring at their daughter as though seeing her for the first time, his hand cradling her with a tenderness that belied the turmoil he had carried for so long.

"I'm scared." he admitted. "Of the thought that she is will pay for all the things that I did to you." He told her, his mind going back to the months of neglect and anger that he threw her way. To the night when he defiled and destroyed the trust that she had. "That she will carry the burden that I placed on her shoulders. My father was a wise man, he was rarely wrong. And all I pray right now if for him to be wrong."

Sakura's heart swelled with emotion as she watched Kakashi hold their daughter with such tenderness, his voice thick with a vulnerability she hadn't expected. It was as if he was unraveling before her, shedding the layers of strength and stoicism he had worn for so long. The weight of his father's words had obviously haunted him for years, and now, here he was, questioning everything, questioning his place in this world—and in their daughter's life.

Sakura sat quietly beside him, her hand resting on his knee as she absorbed his words. He was scared. Scared for their daughter, scared for himself, scared for the future. The same fear that had driven him to make the terrible mistake that nearly destroyed them. And now, that same fear was rising again, but this time, it wasn't about losing her—it was about failing their daughter.

"I'm scared too," she said softly, breaking the silence that had settled between them like a heavy blanket. Kakashi turned to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he hadn't expected her to admit the same.

She smiled faintly, though there was sadness in her eyes. "I'm scared for her, for both of us. We're bringing her into a world that's broken, a world where we can't undo what's been done. But, Kakashi…" She reached for his hand, her fingers gently brushing against his. "We can do better. We will do better. She doesn't have to carry the weight of our mistakes. She's not the sum of our past, but the beginning of something new."

"Sakura, in a few years she will grew up. And I know that she will be a fine kunoichi, as beautiful as you. What if she chooses to be with a man like me? Someone who'll hurt her."

Sakura squeezed his arm, feeling the weight of his words, the fear of history repeating itself, the dread of their daughter being caught in the same web of mistakes and pain. She looked at him, her gaze soft but unwavering.

"Kakashi," she whispered, "she'll make her own choices. She'll have her own path, and it won't be the same as ours. We can't predict what the future holds, but we can make sure she knows one thing: she is loved. And we will teach her what it means to love with respect, with kindness, and to never accept anything less."

"And you deserved more than I have ever given you, yet you settled for less than what you deserve." he murmured.

Sakura's heart clenched at his words, and she squeezed his hand tighter. His voice, so full of regret, echoed in her chest like a painful reminder of everything they had been through. She understood that feeling—of wishing you could give someone more than you had, of knowing you had fallen short. But she also knew that, as much as he was holding onto his guilt, they had a chance to move beyond it.

She pondered on her next words carefully, it wouldn't do them any good in the long run if she said something to appease his anxiety only to realize that she doesn't mean any of the words that will leave her lips. She looked at the man sitting anxiously beside her. She knew him, in a way that only she knows. She saw every facet of his character: the best and the worst and that grey middle ground between the two.

She looked back on their better days and saw the man that she wanted to be with. She thought about the night that haunted her nightmares for weeks and she thought of the night that he went to her asking for forgiveness, and right then she knew, the monster in her nightmares is not him, but the product of fear and misguided jealousy.

A monster that he tries so hard to crush.

"I didn't settle, Kakashi," she said softly, her realizations softening her tone considerably, her voice steady though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I chose you. Even with all of your mistakes, I chose to stay. I could have left... but I didn't. I chose to try, because I believe in the person you are now. Not the one from the past. Not the one who hurt me. The one who's sitting here, holding our daughter, and trying to make things right."

"You're scared of me. Of what I can do. Of what I am capable of doing, even to those I know that I love." he pointed out.

"I'm not anymore." she murmured. "How can I be scared of you when you're so scared for her?"

Kakashi's breath hitched at Sakura's words. Her gentle tone and the way she looked at him, without the fear that had once gripped her, made his heart ache in a way he hadn't expected. The weight of her forgiveness, of her choice to believe in him again, felt overwhelming. He had never imagined that she would look at him with anything but suspicion after everything he had done. Yet, here she was, sitting beside him, watching him cradle their daughter with a softness he had feared he'd lost forever.

"I'm still trying to believe that," he whispered, his eyes lowering to their sleeping child. "That I'm capable of being someone better. I don't know how to let go of the fear of hurting her… or you."

Sakura gently touched his arm, her fingers tracing the lines of his skin. "Promise me that you'll never hurt her. That you will always protect her. That no matter what, you'll always put her first. Promise me that, and I'll know that I don't have to be scared of you anymore."

They were heavy with the weight of everything they'd been through—every wound, every mistake, every regret. But there was also a glimmer of hope in them, an unspoken belief that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. He looked down at their daughter, her tiny face peaceful and unaware of the world she'd been born into, and in that moment, everything seemed to narrow down to her.

"I promise," he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly under the strain of his emotions. He held their daughter closer, as if the warmth of her small body could chase away the shadows that had haunted him for so long. "I will always protect her. And I will always protect you." His voice was firm, but there was a softness in it that hadn't been there before. "I'll never hurt her, Sakura. I'll never hurt either of you again."

Sakura's heart softened at his words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe in him—just a little. She still carried the scars of the past, the memories of his betrayal, but in that moment, watching him hold their daughter with such care, she saw a man who was trying, a man who was willing to change.

"You don't have to do it all at once," she said gently, her voice barely above a whisper. "We'll figure it out. One day at a time."

She thought of the future, and the possibilities that came with it. One day, someone might ask why she had stay, she had good enough reason why she did now. But she knows that somehow, these reasons will be insignificant to the reasons that she will have in the future. But it is enough, for now.

Kakashi's eyes met hers, and for the first time in a long time, there was something other than guilt in them—there was hope. He nodded slowly, the weight of their shared promise settling over him like a quiet but powerful resolve.

"I love you, Sakura," he said, his voice low and steady. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving that to you. To both of you."

Sakura gave him a small, tentative smile. It wasn't everything. It wasn't perfect. But it was a start.

And for now, that was enough.