Murphy's Law of Love
Summary: Where fate – or Sasuke's overweening, pretentious family – drove them apart, but years later, their daughter brings them together again. Second Chance SasuSaku. BoruSara. AU.
Sarada's entire week seems to pass by in a blur these days. Her days are mostly spent at the university (where she still struggles with, but is getting better at, accounting) and her nights are divided between assignments, spending quality time with the 'rents, and occasionally sneaking out to meet Boruto.
And then there's always the Sunday breakfast with Sasuke and Sakura, who seem to be wanting to have a serious conversation about her drinking habits.
She cringes when the topic is brought up today, and they both look so ridiculously serious about it that she can't help but smirk a little. "It was just an accident," she reassures them, as the breakfast is laid out by the waiter.
Sakura looks incredulous and Sasuke looks totally unconvinced. "An accident?" Sasuke asks, looking slightly wan, which pisses her off a little.
"I mean, it was actually Chou Chou's! She's got this thing about health and junk food and she had to write an assignment about it and it was fucking her up, so – she kind of spiked her drink. And I kind of accidentally drank it. I'm sorry," she explains, first defensive and then turning apologetic at the end.
They both regard her with narrow eyes, so she brings out her own big guns. "Well, if it weren't for me getting drunk, you two wouldn't have hooked up! Honestly, you should be thanking me," she tells them smugly, leaning back on her chair and regarding them with a smirk. They've both made an effort to dress casual today, she notes. Sakura is wearing a red sundress and Sasuke has donned on a black dress shirt, which on any other person would have looked casual, but on him, looks totally formal. Sarada notes as they share a look that's actually longer than the regular old fleeting glance that they usually go for.
"Wait," she says, eyes narrowed as she slides up her glasses up the bridge of her nose with an index finger. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you guys, like, together now?" she asks, question turning incredulous in the middle and happy at the end.
"We thought you figured it out…" says Sakura, flushing and embarrassed.
"I just thought you were hooking up!" Sarada exclaims, internally celebrating because the ship has finally took off the dock! Yay!
They both squirm uncomfortably at that and Sarada beams. "Wait, so like, how did it start? When did it start?" she asks, totally excited, then turning a little accusatory as she continues, "Have you guys been holding out on me?"
"No, of course not!" says Sakura, as always, quickly jumping in to provide explanations while Sasuke looks uncomfortable in the background. "It was – it just happened. When – when his engagement was announced in the paper."
Sarada gasps, scandalized, actually pointing a finger at them. "That was a long time ago!"
"We didn't know how to tell you. It's weird!" Sakura defends herself. "Plus – we weren't sure – I wasn't sure – is it okay with you? For us to – you know?"
Sarada is taken aback by the question, but it makes her feel slightly introspective. In silence, she regards both Sasuke and Sakura with contemplation. She searches her heart while she watches their quietly apprehensive expressions, knowing that they'd probably turn to noble idiocy and break up once again if she says that it makes her uncomfortable (which, she realizes that it doesn't. It actually feels kind of right. Like a missing piece in the universes' jigsaw puzzle has finally been clicked into place, once again).
Still, she can't help but tease a little. "It is kind of weird – " here, she stops because they both instantly look so freaking deflated that she simply admits, "No, no, no! I was just teasing! I'm totally okay with it! I love it! Good for you, guys! Go for it!"
After a bit of searching from Sakura and quiet appraisal by Sasuke, she is once again asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" she assured them, infusing as much certainty in her voice as she possibly can. "Totally!"
They visibly relax at that and Sarada lets out her own little sigh of relief. She takes a long sip of her coffee to wet her parched throat, then stumbling upon a realization. "Oh my god!" she says, looking them with wide eyes. Sasuke freezes in the middle of biting his (dry as heck) toast and Sakura nervously puts down her salad fork!
"That day!" Sarada continues, feeling totally vindicated now, "When Sasuke showed up looking all rumpled and stuff! He was – You spent the night together, didn't you?"
Sarada enjoys the excruciating embarrassment that they're both clearly feeling as they sink a little into their seats.
"Don't even think about lying to me! Sasuke was super stubbly – which is like, a total no for him!"
"She told me not to use her razor," Sasuke defends himself a little monotonously, turning bright pink at the ears in mortification.
"I use it to shave my legs," Sakura gasps, looking genuinely offended that he'd put the blame of on her.
Sarada positively cackles with glee, knowing that she's now got a landmine of embarrassing issues to dig into from now on! She knows she's going to have a ton of fun teasing the crap out of these two.
The rest of the breakfast goes by in a breeze. Before long, they're done and this time, Sarada doesn't leave first. Instead, after Sasuke has settled the bill, she leads them both out and makes them pose in front of the pretty selfie wall that the café's designed for takeaway people.
"Come on, guys! Closer! Don't act shy! You're, like, a couple now!" she prompts, urging them to stand closer, which they reluctantly do, and she snaps a few pics, then exclaims, "Sasuke, put your arm around her or something!"
After a pained expression from him, it's Sakura who winds her arm around his waist, hiding her mortified smile in his side as Sarada snaps a few more pictures on her phone.
On Sakura's insistence, they take a few selfies with her, and after that, it's a nice, warm toodaloos.
Later in the afternoon, Sakura meets Ino at a ritzy lunch place downtown. It's one of those days where the universe seems to be on her side – no emergency calls to the hospital, great day with Sarada, and a nice, restful night to look forward to.
"Forehead, you made it!" Ino greets, waving her arm enthusiastically, and Sakura smiles at the obnoxious affection as she strides towards their table.
"Yes, Pig, I did," she says, sliding a bag full of chocolates and art supplies in her direction, which Ino mock-scowls at.
"You bitch," she says congenially. "You're trying to turn my baby against me, aren't you? Do you know I much sugar intervention I'd have to do with these? Inojin's a gentle kid, but his sugar high is crazy!"
"Or," Sakura suggests, "You could just…steal some for yourself…?"
Ino grins at her. "Now there's an idea."
Just then, Sakura's phone pings with messages, lighting up her screen, and Ino, fast as she is, immediately takes note of her lock screen. "Oh god," she says, "You're one of those gross people who use their boyfriend's picture as their lock screen. Forehead, I thought I raised you better than this!"
Sakura instantly feels herself flushing a deep red and sputters, "It's not like that!"
"You're right, it's worse!" Ino exclaims teasingly, totally over-dramatizing the situation as she says, "You've got a sleeping picture of your boyfriend as your lock screen, which I will bet twenty bucks that he doesn't even know that you took!"
She is, of course, totally right. Sakura is loathe to admit it, but Sasuke-kun had been slumbering so peacefully and he'd looked so, well, pretty! She hadn't been able to help herself. In the end, she lets Ino win and groans as she hides her face behind her hands. "Shut up, Pig," she mumbles, taking a deep breath to calm herself.
Ino cackles. "You're so whipped for this guy. I love it."
They order a high-tea platter.
"So, what's up with you?" Sakura asks.
"Same old. Sai's out at an international art convention, so it's just me and Inojin at home these days. He's drawing closer to the dreaded tweens now, so he's been kind of rebelling.
"Yess, finally! I can't wait for him to throw over your holier-than-thou psychiatric ass!"
"Shut up, Billboard Brow."
Sakura laughs. "So what's he been up to?"
"Nothing much. He loves painting just as much as his dad, but he's discovering his own style. Which pisses Sai off because he wants him to learn the basics. Urgh, it's just really tense when those two are together these days."
"Sucks," Sakura agrees, feeling wistful and not for the first time, trying to imagine how life might have turned out had she, herself, raised Sarada. As always, it's a redundant line of thought, so she quickly shakes it off.
Ino notices her momentary melancholy and asks, "What's up with you and hot stuff these days? How're you guys dealing with Sarada?"
This prompts Sakura to tell Ino about Sarada's drinking endeavors and how she'd stumbled upon them kissing that night.
"Ouch," Ino winces. "It's always pretty uncomfortable for kids to walk in on such things. Is she okay?"
"She was…kind of ecstatic? Or that's how it looked like."
"Hmm," Ino hums skeptically.
Then Sakura shows Ino the pictures from today, which Sarada has already dropped in the group chat.
"These are pretty cute," Ino admits grudgingly. "How're you dealing with his family?
Sakura shrugs, then sighs. "It's been pretty quiet on that front since that whole thing. But I don't trust them. I don't think I ever can. But I won't let them get between us again either," she tells Ino resolutely.
"You better not," ino warns teasingly.
The rest of their date passes in congenial, meaningless talk and the regular old obnoxious teasing. It's perfect.
For Sasuke, having Sarada knowing about him and Sakura (and actually being glad about it) feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He spends the rest of the week in an abjectly uplifted mood, thinking about where to take Sakura on their Saturday date this week at the back of his mind.
By Wednesday, she invites him to come over to her place for a cozy dinner and he easily agrees. He decides to go straight after work. As he puts in the password to her door and it beeps open, he marvels at the familiarity that they've rebuilt in such a short amount of time. It's strange, he thinks, how he'd always carried this Sakura-shaped hole in his heart for twenty years now, never even knowing it existed until it had filled up again. He's so immersed in his introspection as he closes the door again that he startles at the sight of someone else in the apartment.
It's an almost comical moment as his eyes lock with a stern-faced woman who he faintly recognizes as Sakura's mother (based on the very brief interactions he'd had with her in the past). He recoils a little as she lets out a little squeak, wide-eyed for a moment, then squinting as her face arranges in a mask of complete and utter shock, body frozen in the movements of loading up Sakura's fridge with what he assumes must be home-cooked food. He understands that expression – he is, after all, a blast from Sakura's past.
For a few long moments, the two of them just stare at each other and Sasuke has the inexplicable urge to flee the scene, but his dignity commands otherwise. So he just bows his head a tiny bit in greeting and shuffles awkwardly at the entrance.
She, in turn, closes the fridge door. She now looks like she's seen a ghost and is not very pleased about it. Not knowing what to do or say, they both just stand in supremely awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. In the end (and Sasuke has no idea how it happens this way), they both end up sitting side by side on the single sofa that makes up Sakura's living room. The silence is excruciating now and Sasuke subtly catches glimpses of his wrist watch, willing time to move faster and for Sakura to arrive as quickly as possible. He looks at the mess of boxes that takes up most of Sakura's hallway, looks at the ceiling lights until his eyes start to water, and finally, unable to take a single minute more, stands up to get himself some water because even though he hasn't spoken a word, he feels absolutely parched.
Of course that's when Sakura comes home (he hears the door beep open) and of course, she doesn't see her mother right there. It all happens in a few seconds, where Sakura enters, says a sweet little, "Sasuke-kun, I'm home!" he barely has time to close the fridge door and turn around before she's sailed up to him and wrapped her arms around his back in a tight hug.
He's stiff as a board and dying on the inside – she must immediately pick up on his body language because she says, "What's wrong?"
And that's when Sakura's mother clears her throat in the adjoined living room. Instantly, Sakura jumps six feet away from him and he turns around just in time to catch her wrist as she loses her balance.
"M-mom?" she stutters, "I didn't know you were coming."
Across the room, her mother looks agonised. Instead of answering or saying anything back, her expression becomes even more pained the more she looks at Sakura and himself. In the end, she ends up sitting down on the sofa with her head in her hands.
Sasuke doesn't know what to say or do, so he looks at Sakura for direction. But she seems just as lost and for once, she's not holding his gaze – she's looking just as pained as her mother. When she does look at him, it's a long, long study of his face, as if she's searching his entire soul for something. When she's done, she gives him half a smile, eyebrows still drawn, takes his hand and leads him to the couch where her mother sits.
"Mom?" she says gently, falling to her knees in front of the woman.
Sakura's mother is slow to straighten up. When she does, she says, "I can't believe you're seeing this boy again."
To which, Sakura simply says, "He's a man now. We're both adults."
Her mother now looks accusingly at him. Her voice is trembling as she says, "After all the things your family did…how could you – "
"He didn't know–"
"Oh please–"
"Mom!" says Sakura angrily, then gentles as her mother looks positively stricken.
With tearful eyes, Mebuki Haruno looks at him. "I won't accept you," she tells him, shaking off Sakura and standing up. "I will never accept you. You don't know what my daughter had to go through because of you and your family."
She doesn't give anyone a chance to respond, just flicks off the tears that had rolled down the corners of her eyes, gets up, grabs her purse from the kitchen and leaves. At the door, she turns around one last time and looks at Sakura. "We'll talk about this later."
Then she leaves.
Sasuke feels a hollow kind of throbbing in his chest as the door closes behind her – as if she'd sucker punched his entire existence with those words. But he makes no excuses because the physical evidence of Sakura's trauma is literally stacked up in front of him and the resentment for his family still stabs hot and heavy inside his chest. Through it all, he knows only one thing; Sakura is his true north in life and he won't be able to move past her again, in case she makes any rash decisions based on her mother's last words today.
She's still sitting on her knees, looking sad but resolute.
Heart pounding, he asks, "What will you do now?"
Her smile is wan as she looks at him, holding her hand out. He offers his own and pulls her up. "I can't do anything," she tells him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around him. "I already promised you my last name and everything else."
Sasuke feels his shoulders relax, but he's repentant towards her family so he says, "But your mother – "
"I love her," Sakura cuts him off, pulling back and looking at him with a resolute expression "And I hate making her sad for any reason, but – this is my life and I love you and I absolutely refuse to lose you again. Ever. Leech, remember?"
He just looks at her – she's dressed in a casual white blouse and jeans, her hair is in a small messy ponytail at the base of her beck and her eyes have dark circles of those of the overworked, but her peach and cream skin still glows and her eyes are as green as ever and he doesn't know what happens but he's suddenly overcome with a fierce gratitude to have this annoying woman in his life again. Without another word or thought, he takes her face in his hands
She's startled but leans forward when she sees him searching her face. He can taste the small breath she takes when he buries his lips in her. He pours all the years of isolation and betrayal and waiting and love into this kiss, molding his mouth to hers gently, lingeringly, affectionately, until it's a frenzy of lips on lips, tongue on tongue and he doesn't know where he begins and she ends – until its hard to breathe and she pulls away.
"Well," she says with gentle, understanding eyes. "Me too."
And then she buries her hands in his hair and kisses him with all the longing and hope and love in the world until all he can feel is the fire from her lips, a burning in his chest, and an unforgiving need to make this woman his again and again and again in the most primal of ways.
When he fucks her, it's laced with a kind of hungry possession he doesn't know how to express into words. He just knows that he needs to ram into her pussy, make her his in every physical way, go in as deep as he possibly can and make her drop from that high. When he explodes his cum inside of her, it's with an aggressive grunt, and when he looks at her in the aftermath, he loves the lazy, post-sex affection in her eyes, the gentle quirk of her lips, and the quick tightening of her legs around his waist before he pulls out and flops beside her.
He can only hope she understands what he tried to convey with his body instead of words.
Later in the night, they order takeout. Sasuke is both concerned and impressed with Sakura's collection of menus – she's got an entire dedicated drawer of them in her kitchen and her tastes seem to run the gamut of everything and anything. From street pizza shops to high-end menus, her collection spans a wide range of food offerings. Right now, she seems to be carefully studying a ritzy Italian one.
"I do like some penne – what say, Sasuke-kun?" she asks him.
He's sardonic as he replies, "You know there are apps for ordering food now, right?" He doesn't say that he only knows that because he'd been involved in the financial viability assessments for their own app launch at the Uchiha Corp.
"Look at you being tech savvy," she says in a teasing tone that becomes challenging when she says, "Pull it up then."
He's lucky enough to have the app in his phone and she's actually impressed. "Do you order takeout often as well?" she asks.
He doesn't tell her that he'd just forgotten to delete it from his phone and simply shrugs, letting her draw her own conclusions.
"I bet Sarada would know all about such things," says Sakura, flicking through his phone and ordering Italian anyway.
Sasuke softens at that. "Aa," he says, taking his phone back once Sakura has ordered what she wants.
They both look at each other and Sasuke feels a deep-seeted contentment in the moment, especially as she smiles at him – as if all the wrongs in the universe had finally been put right. But then she keeps staring at him and he starts getting uncomfortable under her probing gaze, so he says, "Stop staring."
"No," she answers immediately, tone teasing. "I love looking at you."
Her candidness in these moments always seem to make his breath catch, so instead, he looks away himself. Wryly, he says, "Don't stare when I'm asleep."
"That would be creepy," she agrees, pulling out her phone again. "I'm glad Sarada finally knows," she admits after a beat, looking pensive as she observes a picture of her on her phone and Sasuke notes the air of peace about her.
"Aa," he agrees, and watches live as Sakura, who has a tendency to overthink everything beyond measure slowly becomes frazzled and contemplative.
"What?" he asks, blandly, already knowing where her mind is taking her.
"I mean," she starts, "Do you really think she's okay with – with us – ?"
Sasuke cuts her off with a curt, "Yes." He doesn't – can't – allow her to go any further with this chain of thought because then she'll pull him along and they'd both spend the night unravelling that imaginary thread and making themselves miserable for no reason at all
"The way she likes to tease us," he says, heart warming and seizing and becoming an unrecognizable, squishy, squiggly thing as he remembers the interactions the three of them have had so far, and the way Sarada has probed into their past, making them talk about things they never would have on their own. He sighs, shaking his head, feeling a little wry, a little sardonic, but mostly exasperated and fond. She was, indeed, a good girl.
Sakura, who has been watching him intently as he's run the gamut of these feels looks at him with a soft, secret smile, as if she knows what he's feeling. She says nothing, just reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it a little.
On Saturday, Boruto takes Sarada bowling. It's a preamble to dinner and she always loves a little competition on date night. It sets the tone for the rest of their date – when Sarada wins, she always makes sure to give Boruto extra-long, extra-lingering, extra-hot kisses. When he wins – well, nothing really happened when he won, so Sarada always worked extra hard to secure the win because only god knew how frustrated she'd get over their time apart and having Boruto tease her with (a totally fake) gentlemanly code of conduct was a no-go for her!
Luckily, she's super great at bowling (because she's previously had fierce competitions with none other than Obito). But Boruto seems to match her pace for pace, which adds that extra layer of sizzle and she really hopes she can beat him today because if not, her jumping him would feel kind of like cheating.
Unlucky for her, she loses by 1 pin and scream-rages her frustration as Boruto cheers. He pokes his tongue out at her and the fact that he's happy about it sends her hormones in a tailspin and without any brain coordination at all, her lower-lip wobbles out and without preamble, two hot tears leak down her eyes, surprising even her. She quickly wipes them away, embarrassed and stomps away from Boruto who looks like a deer caught in headlights.
"Wait, Sarada!" he says, quickly catching up to her as she pushes open the door and walks outside. When she doesn't, he catches her by the shoulders and turns her around. He's still wide-eyed when he she looks at him and she still feels wretched because – "Oh my god, Boruto! Why do I have to win at a stupid game to make-out with my stupid boyfriend!?"
To which, his expression becomes pinched, then embarrassed, then cheeky before finally settling into comical. "That's why you're crying?"
"Yes!"
"Babe," he says, shaking her a little by the shoulders. "I thought – well. I thought that was our thing?"
"No, you made it our thing! It could have been third base if you won!" she says to him, tears finally stopping now. The pragmatic side of her brain had taken over.
Boruto looks thunderstruck. "What?" he says, looking like he'd been hit by a thunderbolt.
"I thought all teenage boys aspired for that? Why do you aspire for celibacy – I feel so stupid – "
"First of all," Boruto cuts her off, weirdly calm and collected now. "I'm not a teenage boy."
"Yes, because twenty is so much older than – "
"Second of all," he cut her off again and she bristled because how dare he cut her off twice, but she doesn't have long to feel the rage because he smirks this quick-flash little smile before catching her face in his hands and planting a kiss on her. It starts off as slow and exploratory and she barely has a chance to get used to the rhythm before he's parted her tongue to make it deeper, more frantic, as if he'd been holding back all this time. He catches her around the waist, lets go, then holds her by the shoulders, as if not knowing which way would bring her closer and she's all the more ready to help him out by pushing him against the wall of the building they'd just exit and drawing closer and closer to him until –
"Oi, get a room, you two!" someone jeers at them.
Reality strikes in and Boruto gently pushes her away, still holding her by the shoulders. There's a smile on his face and his eyes are positively simmering and Sarada is kind of weak in the knees as they pant.
"Second of all," he says again. "Let's do that again."
She's more than happy to comply. They do spend a lot of the rest of their date in the back of the car and things do get to second base, but Boruto has a weird sense of chivalry and third base is, once again, a no-go.
"Boruto," says Sarada, as they share a pizza. Her half is a mellow cheese and pepperoni while his is a spicy fajita.
"Yes," he says, taking a huge bite out of a slice and clearly calculating which piece he'd try next. Sarada observes him, his shaggy blond hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and just – feels this overpowering love for him. She only hesitates a second before saying it out loud. "I love you."
Of course, he chokes on his pizza and she has to open a water bottle for him. She waits patiently as he sputters his way through a drink to calm himself down, and when he does, he's still kind of wide-eyed. She shakes her head at him in pity. "You don't have to say it back," she tells him. "Yet." And there is a thread of otherwise in her undertones.
Boruto, who doesn't seem to have the sense God gave to a flea in that moment can only gulp.
When he drops her back home, Sarada is in a bad mood. She finds Kakashi watching a dog race and sits down next to him. He looks at her with raised brows, gauges her ennui and silently offers her his arm for a hug, which she is very glad to snuggle into.
"What's wrong, kid?" he asks.
She doesn't say anything, just burrows into his side deeper and enjoys the fact that de doesn't pry when she doesn't answer. It's always this quiet sort of companionship that she loves the most about being Kakashi's daughter. She's so absolutely chill and lets her work through her stuff at her own pace. For the second time that night, she says those three words. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you more," is a swift and confident response, which makes her smile because at least she can count on one man in her life to say them back.
The rest of the week passes by in a blur and soon enough, it's Sunday again. Sasuke picks Sakura up from the hospital and she plops into the front seat looking exhausted. She'd been with him the night before and had been called in for an emergency around six in the morning. Silently, he passes her a coffee and she smiles as she takes it from him.
"Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she says, gingerly looking under the lid and sighing in relief/approval when she finds the liquid piping hot and black, he notes from his periphery under his aviators.
They spend the ten minute car ride in companionable silence and he's only slightly annoyed when she starts fiddling with the radio and settles on a funky pop music channel that he feels they're both too old for. She must see his pained expression because she blushes and says in an embarrassed voice, "I'm a ballad girl through and through, Sasuke-kun, but it'd be nice to know what these youngsters are listening to these days."
She just shakes his head, but knows when she means youngsters, she just means Sarada and he absolutely cannot begrudge her that.
When they do arrive at their usual Sunday haunt, they're startled to realize that Sarada is already there. She rarely (if ever) shows up before them and he feels a pang of anal anxiety because he likes being on time and hates it when people have to wait for him. Sakura knows that about him, which is probably why she squeezes his hand once in reassurance. He squeezes hers back and quietly takes his seat as Sakura says a bright, "Hello, Sarada-chan!"
"Hey," is the glum, off-put response as Sarada spares them a fleeting glance then looks out the window again. She looks tired and moody, as if she's in a bout of teenage angst and Sasuke does not feel prepared enough to deal with it. He shares a quiet, apprehensive glance with Sakura.
"Is – is everything alright?" Sakura tentatively asks and he silently applauds her bravery. He could never.
Sarada looks at them, then. After a quick bout of surveying them, she narrows her eyes and says, "Sakura?"
"Yes?"
"I have a question?"
"Fire away."
"Were you the one who said I love you to him?" she asks, voice curiously edgy, then fast, as if she can't wait for the answer. "What was it like the first time you said it? Did he say it back?"
Sasuke feels the fluster rising within him and is barely able to look at Sakura but knows she must be embarrassed as hell. He notices that Sarada is observing them intently and neither of them has to say a word for her to deduce – "Oh my god, you still haven't said it, have you?"
This is directed at Sasuke, who feels an intense and undeniable guilt instantly wash over himself for reasons he can't fathom, but he's barely able to comprehend it because Sarada is on a roll and seems to be discerning rather than prying today. She puts her head in her hands, looking slightly panicked and he gets a feeling that it's not about her getting to know their history today, but her drawing comparisons of them to her own life.
"Oh my fucking god," she says, pulling her head up again "You guys are like what? Fifty? And you still think de-virginizing the love of your life was the best way to express your love? What the fuck." She looks at them in turn and Sasuke feels himself going hot and ruing the day she managed to pry their first time out of them. Under the table, Sakura has inched her pinky finger in his and seems to be squeezing it with all the force in her body, but Sarada isn't done yet. She takes a deep breath. "Okay, calm down," she tells herself, using her hands to steady her breathing and for a minute, he thinks she's succeeding, but then she opens her eyes and she still seems angry – at him.
"Seriously, though? What the fuck, Sasuke – "
"It's not his fault," Sakura jumps in, pained and always there to defend him. "He's just not very expressive with words – "
"Oh, god! You're defending him!" Sarada wails, looking at Sakura accusingly.
Sasuke is absolutely steaming with embarrassment and guilt, noting how a few other patrons are looking at them and whispering.
"Enough," he says, forcing himself to calm down. He pins Sarada with a stern gaze and bluntly asks, "What's this about?"
She looks at him with narrowed, angry eyes for five, six, seven beats, then softens, pouts, lets out a huge sigh as if she's carrying the weight of the world and says, "Sorry."
He shares a silent, worried look with Sakura.
Eventually, after what feels like eternity, she confesses quietly, "I told Boruto I loved him."
Sasuke feels an instant prickle of irritation coupled with an intense urge to beat the shit out of Boruto before he catches himself and forces the anger down – lets it simmer.
"And…?" Sakura pries gently.
"And," says Sarada, angry now. "He didn't say it back!" she looks affronted and resentful, searching their faces for reactions.
Sasuke feels his face morph into a scowl, feeling a dual urge to main the fuck out of Boruto while simultaneously make him say the words back to Sarada because how dare he be an idiot like Sasuke himself! He doesn't know how to express any of that in words, though, so he looks to Sakura, who seems to be smiling in gentle understanding.
"Oh, honey," she says, reaching out for Sarada's hands. It takes a moment of hesitation, but Sarada does end up offering her own hands to her. He watches as Sakura gently rubs them in hers.
"I know it's the stupidest thing ever – " she starts, broody and sullen.
"It's really not," says Sakura, cutting her off. "It's a big thing."
Sarada seems to brighten up at that. "I know, right? It's huge! And he just kind of looked at me like a blowfish – and I'm so pissed off at him for not saying it back!" at the end of the tirade, she turns vehement and angry again, then looks at Sakura with wide, respectful eyes.
"I don't know how you deal with this man." She motions her eyes at Sasuke and continues, "I would die if someone wouldn't say it back for that long."
Sasuke is kind of thunderstruck, chastened, and repentant at the same time and doesn't know which feeling to focus on first. As always, Sakura comes to his rescue. She sighs and patiently tries to explain , "Sarada-chan. Sometimes, you don't have to say the words – your actions speak for you. I don't know what you're going through, but maybe try to give Boruto-kun another chance."
Sarada pouts, looking chastened.
"As for Sasuke-kun," she continues, looking at him with an adoring smile that he always feels like he doesn't deserve. "I've always known him as a man of few words – " she totally glosses over Sarada's scoff here " – and I know he comes off as prickly, but I've always known he loves me."
"But, like, how?" asks Sarada, looking skeptical and judgmental in a way only a teenaged girl can.
But Sasuke is curious himself and he's got that splintery feeling in his chest that always comes about when Sakura confesses. He looks at her curiously, waiting for an answer.
Sakura looks first at him, then at Sarada, seeming exasperated and looking pained – an expression she always wore when Sarada was interrogating them. Nevertheless, she answers, honest and sincere as ever. "In all the small gestures," she says, clutching the napkin in front of her in a death grip, slowly getting pink and flustered as she continues. "When he lets me hold his hand, even though he's the most touch-averse person I know. When he knows exactly when to get me my coffee and exactly how I like it. When he secretly stashes vitamins in my purse when he thinks I'll be overworking. Just – little things like that." She's shyly smiling at the table now, not looking at either of them, and Sasuke himself feels like the buoy in his chest is constricting his breathing, but not in a bad way.
When he dares look at Sarada, she seems to be grinning.
"Awh," she says eventually. "That's cute."
That seems to egg Sakura on a little more because she concludes, "Sasuke-kun shows his love in practical things. Maybe Boruto-kun is the same."
Sarada's expression becomes contemplative at that. She sighs, then deflates. "I guess. We'll see."
Personally, Sasuke thinks otherwise. He cannot imagine any spawn of Naruto who is not completely brash, impudent, and annoyingly expressive. Once again, he fights the urge to beat the crap out of the mini-idiot as he looks at Sarada looking despondent.
The rest of the meeting passes by in a mix of casual conversation overshadowed by mopey silence. When they finally bid Sarada farewell, Sasuke wants to stop her and say…he doesn't know, but he does want to say things. Like how he does love her even if he's ill-equipped to actually say it out loud. He struggles with the words, opens his mouth once, then closes it, jaw tight, kind of really hating himself for being this way. He just hopes she knows, hopes that Sakura has conveyed enough of it on his behalf. In the end, he simply deflates and turns around, following Sakura who is already in the process of sitting in the car. He's taken three steps when he feels someone catch him by his sleeve. He turns around and is surprised to see Sarada once again.
"Sasuke," she says looking sheepish as he looks at the pinch of fabric she's got a hold off on his wrist. "Hey, I'm sorry about being an ass earlier."
He's absolutely bowled over and can only say, "No need."
But it seems that Sakura's genetics run intrinsic through their daughter because she too, finds herself explaining things needlessly to him. "It's just that I'm upset with Boruto – and the whole male species as a whole – and just, you know, the fact that you're not very expressive with words when she's literally confessing left, right, and center just – rubbed me the wrong way I guess?"
"Understandable," he says, because really, it is.
"But that doesn't give me the right to be mean to you! I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings – you are super practical with – you know," she struggles here but ends up spitting out the word anyway, "Love." At his raised brow, she hurries to explain, "I mean, I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule and helping me with school stuff, and just letting me stay over when I got drunk. Huh," she concludes. "I guess Sakura was right. It is the little things."
By the end of her tirade, she's looking at Sasuke in this wholesome, affectionate kind of way that propels a stitch to form in his chest. It's an agonizing feeling and he wants to rub his heart where it's squeezing like crazy because he does feel this paramount, important, overwhelming kind of love for her that he doesn't think he will ever be able to properly express into words and to her tirade now – he simply doesn't know how to answer.
"It's okay," she tells him, patting him on his forearm in a casual, friendly way. "I guess I understand as well." Then she winks at him and runs away. He tries to swallow past the ball in his throat as he watches her wear her helmet and take off on her Scooty.
When he finally gets into the car, Sakura gives him a knowing smile. She doesn't ask what Sarada had just said to him, just comments, "Teenage angst, huh?"
He has to take a deep breath to bring himself to the present. He doesn't respond to her comment and simply starts the car. His mind is a turmoil of contemplative thoughts and he's feeling the need to express some of them right now, so when he stops at a red halfway to his apartment, he looks at Sakura, then looks away and says as he puts the car in gear again, "I do."
"Huh?" says Sakura, confused.
"Love you," he finishes, ears pink, heart squeezing some more. He's unable to look at her, so he simply looks ahead, focusing on the road.
He feels, rather than sees her softening, then smiling. He almost expects the hand she puts over his own on the steering wheel, which he only now realizes he's been holding in a death grip. "I do know," she says back in that expression of voice he's come to associate with her and her alone. "Why would you think I won't?"
He shrugs, not having liked the entire debacle with Sarada today and maybe she can tell.
"I do, Sasuke-kun. I know," she reiterates, shifting sideways in her seat and looking at him. "But," she continues, teasing, "I do confess it's nice to hear it too."
At his agonized expression, she takes pity on him. "Plus, you have said it before."
The comment catches him off-guard and he wracks his brain for the event. He honestly cannot recall and his furrowed brow must give him away because she says, "That night. When you came to me at the hospital, totally drunk."
At his uncomprehending expression, she turns pink, then says in an exasperated voice, "You said, and I quote – what's perverted about sleeping with the woman I love?"
He does recall that. Slightly. He wishes he doesn't because he'd been foolish and unthinking (and very, very drunk), but then he takes a breath and softens once more, feeling this intense affection for the woman who's now fiddling on her phone next to him. Leave it to Sakura to hang on to little crumbs of words he's left along the way and build him a shrine out of it. He shakes his head a little as he put the car in park in his apartment's lot.
"And," she continues, teasing now, "You said, and I quote again – you're the woman I love. Honestly that one really swept me off my feet."
He doesn't reply, afraid that he'd do things that would actually sweep her off her feet – probably onto his dick.
When they get back to his place, she sets about opening her laptop and settling herself down on the sofa. She has a few dissertations to read for her residents and a lecture to prepare for, so he leaves her to it. Silently, he marvels at the way his apartment has changed in the past month or so. While previously sharp and sterile, it's now softened around the edges. There are pillows on his sofa now and a fluffy throw seem to have made itself a perpetual home on the sharp-edged side-arms. There's a basil plant that rests on his kitchen island and little bits and bobs of colorful items – a box of chocolates next to his coffee machine, a jar of winter nuts on his coffee table next to a packet of rice crackers that Sakura likes snacking on.
As he starts on dinner, he feels that sense of contentment settling into his bones again. He likes this – this domesticated feeling. He recalls his weekends being cold, isolated days where he would be wishing for Monday to come again. He'd flick through the news, spend the day working, or busy himself with business books. Now – well, he has Sakura to spend the days (and nights) with, Sarada to entertain, and he feels this fullness in his heart that he thinks most people get when they had everything they needed in life.
Shaking himself out of the introspection again he puts the rice in the cooker and takes some vegetables out of his fridge, because unlike Sakura, he doesn't prefer takeout and does know how to cook basic meals. Plus, he does have an agenda today. Izumi had flown into his office the other day (as she was prone to do sometimes) and reminded him that the Global Impacts Award Gala was coming soon.
"I'm aware," he'd told her in curt tones, as he'd been the one to review and approve the budget and was utilizing the CSR/ESG Dashboards.
"I do hope to see you there," Izumi had told him and he'd known she was talking in the capacity of their Head of Marketing, instead of sister-in-law. He'd given her a pained look because he'd previously endeavored his best to avoid any such frou-frou events with everything he had in his bones and Izumi knew it. had to scramble to allocated his speeches to other members of the family. Might have even hated him a little for it, professionally.
"I'm just saying," she'd said in that tone she used when she was incentivizing. "It would be a great time to introduce your girlfriend to the world." At his interested expression, she'd casually gestured with her hands and sealed the deal, "It would certainly stop Mother and the elders from matchmaking again."
So now, as Sasuke stirred the curry in the pan, he wonders how to ask Sakura officially. He's always struggled with words and he doesn't know how to ask her out on things because she's always taken the reins when it came to such matters. So as he serves the plates and calls her over, he watches as she gets up, stretches, and joins him in the kitchen and he kind of freaks out a little.
"Sasuke-kun," she says, taking a seat and looking at him teasingly, "I love the effort, but you do know that the convenience store does rice and curry like no one's business, right?"
He can only roll his eyes at her as he says, "MSG."
"Please," she says, taking a bite, then thumbs-upping him. "Most modern research confirms that MSG is safe for most people at typical consumption levels, with both the FDA and WHO recognizing it as generally safe."
"Keyword: most," he threw back, knowing it would make her bristle.
"Still better than smoking," she jested at him. "I'm just glad you've thrown away your emergency 'treats.'"
He sighs a sigh of long-suffering, remembering her annoying him about it, then says, "Are you sure you haven't kept in touch with Naruto? Your obessession with take-out matches his passion for ramen."
She makes a face, then turns serious. "Which reminds me, we do need to meet up with him."
Sasuke is not looking forward to it so he scowls and makes a face – then remembers that the whole point of this dinner is to ask her out and freaks out again. He struggles with the words, urging for something – anything to come out but his brain seems to have become absolutely inarticulate. Sakura, who's perceptive as ever when it comes to him being verbally constipated, asks, "Anything on your mind, Sasuke-kun?"
He waits a beat, then says, "Yes."
"What?" she asks, putting her chopsticks down and looking at him intently.
"The Gala," he says, clearing his throat.
"Huh?" she says, looking lost.
"The Uchiha Global Impacts Gala," he says, floundering for more appropriate words.
"What about it?" she asks, looking at him intently, but he can tell she's already connecting the dots.
"Go with me," he says, knowing full well that this was not asking, but demanding. In the back of his mind, he reprimands himself, but in front of Sakura he remains impassive if slightly expectant.
He looks as her face morphs from surprised to pleased to chagrinned to conflicted and finally settles on that gentle kind of apprehension he's come to associate with her when she's struggling to deny him something.
She waits a beat, biting her lip, then asks, "Doesn't – doesn't your entire family goes to that thing?"
"Aa," he says because it's one of the reasons he wants to take her. It's his very own fuck you to the Uchiha pedigree.
She swallows, still looking conflicted. "Um…"
He waits patiently, knowing full well the weight of what he was asking of her. As his partner, she's be forced to parade around, mingle with high-society and indulge in small talk. Her photographs would be taken by the media and splashed across the internet. She'd be judged, she might even be criticized by Grandfather Madara and his lackies. He knew for sure that his mother would be flouncing around like a social butterfly, and yet – and yet he hoped she would say yes anyway. That she would choose to be with him, to announce her love for him to the world in this way.
Maybe he was asking too much too soon, because she looks at him imploringly as she says, "Why? Why do we need to go?" here, he notices with narrowed eyes as she tries to laugh away her discomfort. "We could go on a date. Or explore a new position – "
"I want to take you," he says, cutting her off and infusing his voice with gravity because this was important. Letting people know he was committed and taken and in love was important. He holds her gaze for an infinity, trying to convey those exact reasons to her because god knows his tongue won't cooperate.
She looks pained as she admits, "I don't want to meet your family. Any of them."
"I know," he says, marveling at the irony of the situation because once upon a time, years and years agi, it was she who used to probe him for public outings and now. He was a fool for her. "I want them to know," he admits and leaves the rest unsaid. That I love you. That you're mine. That we're together.
That seems to spur her on. "Know what?" she demands gently. "That you're dating your high-school girlfriend again?"
The words ignite a profound, unshakeable anger within him and it seems to be the exact feeling he needs to dislodge the words from his throat. "That I'm with the woman I love," he says, low and steady, absolutely sure of his words.
He knows he's stunned her speechless, so he takes the opportunity to get up, go to the other side of the table, take her face in her hands and kiss her. It's the kind of slow-moving, chaste kiss that conveys an ardent, inherent love, all his unsaid words and feelings – all the things he feels for her, because it's not just love; never just love. It's respect and admiration and comfort and so many other micro-feelings that accompany the big ones when you feel the way about someone that Sasuke felt about Sakura. As his lips move against hers, he wills her to understand the importance of this gesture and when he pulls away, it takes her a moment to open her eyes. When she does, they're glistening with unshed tears and her mouth is curved into a gentle, loving sort of smile. "Darn your kisses. It's not fair and you know it."
To which he lightly smirks and kisses her again.
In the end, she sighs and melts into his arms. "Fine," she says. Then, "You might get disowned, remember?"
He shrugs. "I have your last name."
She can say nothing to that.
On the other side of Konoha, resting on a plush armchair in the middle of her beautiful, leafy, and perfectly landscaped greenhouse, Uchiha Mikoto feels absolutely wretched. Tonight, her hair is out of its perfectly crafted coif and sits in a long silky pool of salt-and-pepper raven down her back. She's dressed in a black nightgown and has got a cup of lavender tea sitting on a small table beside her. She feels infinitely troubled as she stares off in the distance and her heart feels like it's stitched in tiny little knots that she won't be able to untangle even if she spent the rest of her life trying.
She sighs a sigh of world-weariness, missing her youngest child and feeling absolutely forlorn and miserable.
"That's a big sigh," comes a voice from behind her and she can't help but smile a little at the sight of Itachi. He's still dressed in his day clothes and has a sleek tablet in his hands – clearly here on business, but she doesn't mind mixing it with some mother-henning.
"It's too late to be working, my love," she admonishes, not unkindly. "Izumi-chan must be waiting for you – go to her."
In response, Itachi places a kiss on the side of her head and takes a seat on an adjoining chair, completely disregarding her comments. He hands her the tablet he came with and says, "Sasuke's already reviewed the contracts and sponsorship agreements, but I need you go over the guest list one last time. My team has kindly sent over a reputational risk management analysis for your review as well."
Mikoto touches the tablet and it sparks to life, but she's not feeling like Uchiha Board Member Mikoto today. She's feeling deplorable mother (and grandmother) tonight and doesn't feel like working, so she pushes the button to close the devise and puts it aside. "Leave that with me, please," she says, then takes a sip of her tea.
Itachi gives her a funny look then and she cannot help but ask, "Anything bothering you, dear?"
He looks at her long and hard and she feels like she knows what he might be gauging her about because Sasuke has a habit of confiding things in his brother that he would never confide in his own parents (and, she knows how Itachi likes to keep tabs on the youngest as well). In the end, he says what she's feared the most and it flusteres her to no end. "I think it's time to talk about what's happening in Sasuke's life."
She sighs a world-weary sigh again, feeling caught and trapped, but less so than she'd felt when Sasuke himself had confronted her. She absolutely despairs at the conversation they're about to have.
"I think it's suffice to say that many mistakes have been made over the years," Itachi begins diplomatically, crossing his legs and sitting down tighter. "The question now is," he says, "what to do next?"
Mikoto can only look at him helplessly because she's been trying to call Sasuke for quite a few weeks now to no response. She would normally at this point go to his apartment or try to catch him at the office, but she honestly doesn't have the courage to confront him head-on – especially after the fiasco that had happened the last time. She shrinks a little within herself and winces as she remembers how she'd been so flippant and unrepentant about the way she'd accused Sarada – her granddaughter, she marvels – of being Sasuke's girlfriend of all things. It's the most horrendous memory of the entire scenario that she's retained, closely followed by that woman – Sakura, she recalls – entering and looking at her like she was the devil herself. Sasuke's accusing, inculpating look at her was forever burned in her mind. To Itachi, she doesn't know what to say so she looks on in a destitute sort of despair that makes her eldest rub a hand over his face.
In the end, he sighs and goes straight to the point like he always does. "Mother," he begins. "Let's cut to the chase. Sasuke is dating, dare I say even planning to marry, outside of what is considered…appropriate circles."
He gives her a loaded look here and there's a lump in Mikoto's throat that she just cannot swallow past.
"Given what has happened in the past, he will not be deterred by any further interventions," Itachi pauses for effect. "And I should hope he shouldn't have to," he says, gaze boring into hers with narrowed eyes. "Which leaves us," he concludes, "with the fact that we must protect him from being disowned."
Mikoto feels absolutely tortured at the prospect because all she'd ever done – everything her dearly departed husband had ever done in the past – was to avoid this exact, certain event. Perhaps they had a very twisted way of affirming affection, but the simple thought of her beloved Sasuke being stripped off the Uchiha name just for falling in love with the wrong woman did not sit well with her – had never sat well with any of them; hence the mess they were in. She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes, feeling absolutely conflicted.
"Hold your horses, Mother," says Itachi, totally unforgiving in a way that had made him rise the ranks of the vast Uchiha Empire to be the savvy CEO that he was. "You do not get to break them up again," he warns her, voice laced with a menace she's never heard directed at her. "For one," he continues, "he's not a young boy who had, for a lack of a better term and do excuse the crude language, knocked up a teenaged girl. He's a full-grown man capable of making informed decisions and…I've done a thorough background check on that woman. She's a highly respectable doctor – a versatile patron of her field, if I say so."
Mikoto gulped, hopeful at the direction he was taking this in.
"And," Itachi continued. "They share a child."
He gives her a loaded look. "If we make the right case, do the right kind of marketing – we can perhaps weave a story that might work in our favour."
Mikoto wholeheartedly agrees and nods animatedly. "Anything," she says, sitting up straighter. She was willing to do anything to make it work – for all of them this time.
tbc
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