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The sun had already begun its descent as Sasuke walked back to the village, the weight of the day settling on his shoulders. He'd spent hours fishing with Kizashi by the river, the quiet rhythm of the water matching the calm that had taken over his mind in those moments.

It had been over a year since he had first sat at the dinner table as Sakura's boyfriend—not just the teammate who had been welcomed into her family but the person who was now an essential part of their lives. Her parents had become a daily presence in his world, something that still felt strange, yet comforting. Sasuke had quickly realized that he had come to care for them in a way that surprised him, especially Kizashi, who had grown to treat him like a son. And yet, despite all the warmth he felt in their home, his thoughts never strayed far from Sakura.

She had been working endlessly. Long tours, research, and constant breakthroughs in the medical field—her mind was often so full of ideas and theories that there was little room left for rest. Sasuke could see the toll it took on her, the dark circles under her eyes, the faint exhaustion in her voice whenever they spoke. But Sakura, ever resilient, would push through. She always found time to be with him, even when she could hardly keep her eyes open. She never complained.

The days were ticking down, and Sasuke found himself lost in thought more often than usual. One week—just one week—until Sakura's 20th birthday —and he still had no idea what he was going to do.

Last year, Sakura had thought of everything in such detail. From the family dinner, meticulously organized by Mikoto and Sakura, to the romantic atmosphere she'd created for them in the forest with candles and sake—Sasuke had felt both overwhelmed and incredibly touched by her thoughtfulness. She had known exactly what would make him feel comfortable, what would make the night unforgettable. And now, here he was, struggling to come up with even one decent idea.

He had thought about giving her something meaningful, something personal. A new medical tool for her work like Naruto suggested ? Too practical. A hand-carved statue of the two of them like Sai suggested? Too cheesy. A trip somewhere special like Itachi suggested? Too complicated for her work schedule.

Besides, every option felt like a repeat of something they'd already done, and Sasuke could not bring himself to settle for mediocrity when it came to Sakura. By the time Sasuke reached his front door, his frustration had reached its peak. He stood there for a moment, staring at the ground, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm an idiot," he muttered to himself. Why was this so hard?

As Sasuke entered the house, the familiar scent of home wrapped around him, but there was another sound that quickly caught his attention—a baby crying. The sharp wail cut through the otherwise still air, and Sasuke immediately started toward the stairs, a sense of urgency rising in his chest.

The newest addition to their family—Isao Uchiha—had been born only a few months ago, but already he had brought an undeniable energy to the household. Sasuke had never imagined that being an uncle would feel so meaningful, but with Isao, everything felt different.

Itachi and Izumi had surprised everyone last year when they announced their marriage in March. Sasuke had been confused by how quickly they had moved—married in April with a large wedding, full of laughter and excitement. It was so unlike Itachi, who was usually reserved and private. But in the end, Sasuke had been glad to see his brother so happy, and the wedding, though fast-paced, had been beautiful.

One week after the wedding, came another surprise—the news that they were going to be parents. Izumi was already two months pregnant when they shared it with the family, and that revelation had sparked an endless stream of teasing from Shisui, who found endless amusement in the fact that Itachi had skipped tradition and didn't wait for the wedding night.

Sasuke's footsteps echoed softly as he made his way up the stairs to the second floor. His thoughts drifted, and for a moment, he found himself grateful for the arrangement his family had made. It had been a blessing, in its own way, that Itachi and Izumi had decided to live under the same roof as them. Mikoto had been thrilled by the idea, and though it was unconventional, it had brought warmth to their home . At the same time, Sasuke could spend as much time with his nephew as he wanted.

It wasn't just the convenience that made it work, but the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. Mikoto and Fugaku had initially secured houses near the main house for both Sasuke and Itachi after they had grown older and started their own lives, but things had changed. Izumi, raised in a smaller household by her mother, had always expressed a desire to live in the same house as them and not to move out. It was an idea that resonated deeply with Mikoto, and when the suggestion was made to bring her daughter-in-law into the Uchiha home, she'd eagerly embraced it.

Mikoto had immediately taken it upon herself to reorganize the house, rearranging rooms and spaces so that Itachi and Izumi could have their own privacy. They had moved into the second floor, with a separate area designed to feel like their own little apartment within the house. It was the perfect compromise.

Mikoto's plans hadn't stopped there. Sasuke had noticed the subtle hints, the hopeful glances, when it came to his own living arrangements. Mikoto had arranged for the third floor to be set aside for him, planning it as a separate apartment just like Itachi's, with the hope that perhaps one day, Sasuke and Sakura would share that space together. It was an idea that made Sasuke's chest tighten with a new different emotion.

Sasuke knocked gently on Itachi and Izumi's bedroom door. A muffled voice from inside called, "Come in." Sasuke pushed the door open, stepping inside to find his older brother rocking Isao in his arms. The little boy had stopped crying, and the sound of his soft coos filled the room.

Itachi glanced up, offering a smile. "He seems to be calming down," he explained. "Looks like he had a little stomachache. It'll pass."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, still not entirely used to seeing Itachi in this new role—father. Itachi had always been the calm, collected Uchiha heir, but now, with Isao in his arms, he looked softer, more patient than Sasuke had ever imagined.

"Where's Izumi?" Sasuke asked, glancing around.

"Downstairs with Mother, preparing dinner," Itachi replied, shifting Isao slightly as the baby's eyes fluttered sleepily.

Sasuke stepped closer to the crib, reaching out to gently stroke Isao's cheek. The little boy had finally stopped crying and was now happily blowing bubbles with his saliva, his small hands twitching in excitement. Sasuke couldn't help but smile at the sight—Isao was a copy of Itachi, with his sharp features and intense gaze. The only difference was the boy's brown hair, which, at certain angles, made him look like Fugaku.

"Mini-Fugaku," Sasuke murmured, his lips curling into a rare smile.

Itachi chuckled softly, his gaze still on the baby. "He's truly a strange mix."

Sasuke stood still for a moment, watching his nephew with a quiet fondness he didn't often show. Then, without thinking, he lightly picked Isao up, cradling him in his arms. The little boy settled almost instantly, cooing softly as he looked up at his uncle with wide, curious eyes.

"Hold him for a moment," Itachi said, glancing over at Sasuke. "I'll grab a napkin to wipe his face."

As the baby gurgled happily, Sasuke couldn't help but start speaking to him in a soft voice, his words simple but filled with affection. "You're a lot like your dad, you know. Always so serious," he murmured, making funny faces at Isao, who responded with an unexpected giggle.

Itachi, who had stepped away for just a moment, turned back to see Sasuke talking to Isao, a slight smile on his lips. He raised an eyebrow. "It's strange, isn't it?" he mused, watching Sasuke interact with his son. "This kid only seems to laugh with you."

"He just loves his uncle too much."

Itachi and Sasuke walked downstairs together, Isao still cradled in Sasuke's arms, the baby now calm and content. The sounds of family chatter grew louder as they entered the kitchen, where Mikoto, Fugaku, and Izumi were gathered around the table.

As soon as Fugaku spotted Isao in Sasuke's arms, he immediately stood up and reached out to take his grandson. The older Uchiha's eyes softened as he playfully grabbed Isao's tiny hand.

"Come here, little one," Fugaku said, a rare twinkle in his eyes. "Let's see if you can finally crack a smile for me."

Isao, always serious, stared up at Fugaku with wide, intense eyes, his little lips pursed into a frown. It was as if the baby was sizing his grandfather up, trying to decide whether to grant him a smile or not. Fugaku chuckled at the serious expression, holding Isao's hand as he gently rocked him back and forth.

"My handsome nephew turned out to be just like the other three males in this house," Mikoto said, smiling as she looked at Isao.

"We can tell Itachi isn't that serious, Isao definitely inherited that from his uncle and grandfather," Izumi said as she picked Isao up and sat him down in his high chair next to them at the table.

"Seriously or not, he's the most handsome boy here," Sasuke said.

"Good thing we're 3 of 3 now, 3 brown-haired and 3 black-haired," Izumi said.

"I hope we get pink-haired soon," Mikoto said with a smirk. 'Imagine having a granddaughter with pink hair, aww the cutest thing ever. And green eyes, definitely green eyes too.'

With this Sasuke blushed, making everyone laugh at his reaction. After dinner Sasuke settled into the couch with Isao still in his arms, playing with some of his favorite toys. He looked at the clock in the wall.

"I'm going out in a bit. I'll meet Sakura after her shift."

"You two always seem to be busy these days." Izumi said with a teasing smile.

Sasuke let out a small, nonchalant shrug. "We make time for each other."

Izumi smiled knowingly, but before she could comment further, Isao suddenly reached out toward Sasuke, his small face scrunching up in distress.

Sasuke looked down at the little boy, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong, Isao?"

Izumi chuckled, rocking the baby gently. "He's upset because he wants to stay with you," she said, her voice full of amusement. "Seems like he really likes being with you, uncle Sasuke."

Sasuke's heart gave a slight jolt. He gave a small smile. "I'll take him out for a walk if you don't mind," he offered. "That should calm him down before bed."

Izumi laughed softly. "If you're sure, that'd be great. He loves going out with you before bed. I think he enjoys the quiet time just the two of you share. Just wait 2 minutes while I fill a bottle of milk for him."

Sasuke nodded, getting to his feet as he carefully gathered a small bag Izumi had set aside with tools and items for Isao—diapers, wipes, and a bottle just in case. He adjusted the bag over his shoulder, his hands once again settling on the little boy. As he stepped toward the door, Isao seemed to sense what was happening. His face immediately brightened, his tiny hands flapping in excitement, and his giggles filled the room.

"Alright, let's go," Sasuke murmured, the words barely more than a soft exhale as he made his way out of the house.

The evening air was soft, Sasuke walked with calm purpose down the village street. It looked like Isao had discovered a new obsession—blowing spit bubbles.

Sasuke glanced down as yet another one formed on the baby's lips and popped with a wet, triumphant sound. He sighed, fishing out a napkin from his pocket and gently wiping the mess off Isao's mouth.

"Where'd you even learn that?" Sasuke muttered, his voice low and amused.

Isao blinked innocently, then blew another bubble in response.

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, barely concealing a smile. Around them, villagers turned to steal glances. Some paused. A few girls outright sighed at the sight of him—stoic and devastatingly handsome—carrying a giggling baby like it was the most natural thing in the world. His expression, unreadable to many, softened each time he looked at Isao.

He didn't care much about the attention. What mattered were these short walks—little rituals he'd grown to treasure. In them, he saw pieces of his own childhood. He remembered the feel of Itachi's steady hands as he rode on his elder brother's shoulders, the rhythm of his steps, the safety that wrapped around him like a second skin.

Those memories had once felt distant. Now, with Isao against his chest, they returned like breath on glass—hazy, but warm.

They reached the front steps of the Konoha hospital just as Sakura emerged, untying her ponytail and letting her hair fall like silk down her back. Sasuke paused mid-step.

Her hair reached her waist now.

And for a second, the past rushed in—an image of twelve-year-old Sakura tugging at her long locks shyly, hoping he'd notice. He hadn't said a word back then, but he had noticed. He always had.

She looked up and caught sight of him—of them—and smiled wide, lifting a hand in greeting. Sasuke took Isao's hand and greeted Sakura with it as well, receiving Sakura's sweet laughter in response, which was like music to his ears.

This past year had been sweet in a way neither of them had expected. Not loud, not explosive—just quietly sweet, like sunlight through paper windows and the smell of fresh tea after a long day.

Their schedules had kept them apart more often than either liked—Sakura often pulled into long shifts at the hospital, and Sasuke balancing his duties at the police station. But the time they did manage to steal away from the world felt like a kind of gentle reprieve, both physical and spiritual.

They didn't need elaborate dates, didn't crave noise or crowds or anything grand. A walk to the park near the compound, the soft hush of wind weaving through leaves as they lay side by side on the grass—that was enough. Sometimes they barely spoke, content to just exist together in the quiet, in the small exchanges of warmth and touch. A hand over hers. His fingers in her hair. Her head on his shoulder. Long kisses under the shadow of the moon.

Every day, Sasuke found it harder to be apart from her. Every day, his love grew with a steady ache that nestled deep in his chest, the kind that made his fingers itch to reach for her even in the middle of a crowd. He wanted to fall asleep with her hand in his, wake up with her breath near his neck. He wanted permanence. Always.

He was still lost in those thoughts when her voice floated into his world, pulling him gently back.

"Well, hello to the two most handsome men in Konoha!" She said as she reached them.

Sakura stepped closer, brushing Isao's fine dark brown hair back before pressing a kiss to his forehead. The baby let out a sleepy coo, content. Then she leaned in and gave Sasuke a kiss on the cheek, light and quick.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is that all?"

Sakura laughed, the sound wrapping around him like a soft scarf in winter. "We have a child present, Sasuke-kun," she teased, nudging his arm. "The rest of the scene would be… less than graceful."

Sasuke gave her a sideways glance, clearly unconvinced. "He won't remember."

"Are you heading back right away, or… should we sit for a bit?"

Sasuke glanced down at Isao, who was now half-drowsy from the walk, blinking slowly up at the sky.

"We can sit," he replied. "At least until his bedtime."

A smile curved on Sakura's lips. She reached out with both arms, and Sasuke gently transferred the baby into her care. As soon as he was in her embrace, Isao released a triumphant bubble from his lips, making Sakura laugh.

"You're really proud of that, huh?" she teased, bouncing him gently.

Sasuke watched the two of them—Sakura's long hair swaying as she shifted Isao in her arms, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the automatic ease in her touch. She fit there, so naturally. Like she'd always been meant to hold something delicate, meant to carry love this gently.

And without warning, a thought bloomed in his chest—quiet but persistent.

'Our children would be beautiful.' He said to himself.

Maybe one with pink hair and dark eyes, full of questions and brightness. Or one with black hair and green eyes, quiet but curious, tugging on Sakura's hand and asking why the sky changed color at night.

He blinked the thought away, but not before it settled into his bones like a promise.

They found a nearby bench and sat, Sakura shifting Isao in her arms with practiced ease. She looked down at the baby, then turned to Sasuke.

"Did Izumi pack a bottle of milk for him?"

Sasuke nodded, already reaching into the bag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah." He handed it over.

Sakura smiled in thanks, positioning Isao a little higher and bringing the bottle to his mouth. Isao latched on immediately, grabbing it with both of his tiny hands like it was the greatest treasure the world had ever offered.

Sakura couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. "He's very enthusiastic about the milk tonight."

Sasuke leaned back on the bench, one arm draped casually over the backrest behind her. He watched as Isao drank, small noises escaping him in between gulps.

"I think he knows you're holding him," Sasuke said quietly.

Sakura tilted her head. "Oh?"

"Means he's trying to impress you."

She laughed again, this time quieter, and leaned slightly into Sasuke's side. "Well, it's working. Intelligent boy like his father."

"And like his uncle."

Sakura started laughing. "Like uncle too."

"It's strange," she said softly, her voice thoughtful. "How fast time goes. I mean, here we are. Izumi and Itachi are married, and they have a child now."

Sasuke's gaze shifted to Isao, then back to her. "Time goes quickly."

She nodded, her eyes soft as she gazed down at the baby in her arms. "I wonder how Itachi proposed to her," she mused. "He's so romantic when it comes to Izumi. I bet it was beautiful."

Sasuke shrugged lightly, his usual stoic expression returning. "I don't know how either, and to tell you the truth, I'm not really interested. What matters is that they are happy with each other."

"It's true, I'm very happy for them."

The warmth in Sasuke's chest grew heavier, a familiar pull that made him ache with the quiet intensity of it. These little things—her kindness, her sincerity, the love she had for others, the way she cared for Isao with such tenderness—made him love her more and more every day. And there were so many other things, too, small moments that seemed so fleeting yet carried weight that only he seemed to feel: how she smiled when she helped someone, the way her voice softened when she spoke of her hopes for the future, the look in her eyes when she loved him.

In that moment, Sasuke realized that his love for Sakura had already expanded beyond what he had imagined. He couldn't picture his future without her in it.

'One day…' he thought, his gaze unfocusing as the idea blossomed in his mind.

Sakura's voice broke through his thoughts. "I think the day of the proposal was the happiest day for Izumi. I mean, after the birth of her son, of course. The proposal is something that is never forgotten in life, at least my mother still remembers it with emotion."

Sasuke blinked, an idea struck him like a bolt of lightning. Maybe… he could do that for her. A proposal to her on her 20th birthday. His pulse quickened, but it wasn't panic—it was excitement, something that felt new and powerful and terrifying in the best way possible.

But now the question remained: How would he go about this?

Should he combine the birthday and proposal into one grand event? Or should he give them each their own space, allowing each moment to have its own attention? He couldn't help but feel a little unsure—especially about the timing. He and Sakura were young. Only 20, still growing, still finding their place in the world. Compared to Itachi and Izumi, who were older and more settled, Sasuke couldn't help but wonder if they were rushing things.

Would Sakura even want this? Would she be ready for marriage at this point in her life?

The thought gnawed at him.

What if Sakura wasn't ready? What if she didn't want this yet? What if, for her, marriage was something far down the road, not something that needed to be tied to a milestone like her 20th birthday?

Sasuke didn't mind being young. For him, there was no problem with that. But he was aware that she might feel differently. Would she think he was rushing things? Would she see it as too soon, too fast?

No. He couldn't just guess. He had to know.

He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up straighter on the bench. How was he supposed to figure this out without completely ruining the surprise?

Then, just as he was about to fall into a spiral of thoughts, two names popped into his head—two women who could help him. His mother and aunt Kushina.

Both of them knew Sakura well, and both were no strangers to the anxieties of young love and relationships. They would understand.

But even as the idea took form in his mind, Sasuke couldn't help the cold sweat that formed on the back of his neck. The idea of talking to his mother about his plans—and about marriage—was enough to make his stomach churn.

He imagined Mikoto's reaction: the wide eyes, the bright smile, and then the squeal of joy as she hugged him and asked a million questions he wasn't prepared for. It was enough to make Sasuke shift uncomfortably.

Sasuke's thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the gentle sound of Sakura's voice.

"Huh?" he murmured, blinking as he turned toward her.

Sakura studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing with concern. "Is something wrong? You look… a little lost, like something's on your mind."

Sasuke shook his head, trying to brush it off. "It's nothing. Just… a little tired." He tried to mask the anxiety swirling inside of him, not wanting to worry her.

But Sakura wasn't fooled. She reached up, cupping his cheek with her warm hand and caressing it lightly. Her touch was soft, tender, and Sasuke felt the weight of her concern settle over him like a comforting blanket.

"You look a little pale," she said quietly, her fingers trailing through his hair, smoothing it out of place. "You should rest. You've been working hard lately."

Sasuke nodded, grateful for her kindness but too stubborn to admit how much he needed rest. "I'll be fine," he muttered, though the fatigue was starting to take its toll.

Sakura smiled, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek. "We should get going. It might be getting late for Isao too."

Sasuke agreed, standing up with her as they prepared to head home. As they walked, the peaceful night air seemed to settle over them, their footsteps in sync, and Sasuke couldn't help but feel the familiar warmth in his chest when he was with her.

They stopped at the end of the street where they had to part ways. Sakura bent down to press another gentle kiss to Isao's forehead, her smile radiant, before turning her attention to Sasuke.

Without a word, Sasuke reached out, his hand catching her arm. He pulled her toward him, closing the space between them. Then, without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

Sakura's cheeks flushed with color as she pulled back, her eyes meeting his. "Sasuke," she whispered, a slight giggle in her voice as she held his gaze.

Sasuke smirked slightly. "The street is empty." he said softly, his voice calm, almost teasing.

She smiled, her fingers brushing over his arm before she stepped back. "Good night, Sasuke-kun. Love you."

"Good night, love you too."

She turned to leave, but not before planting one last kiss on his cheek, leaving Sasuke standing there for a moment longer than he intended. He watched her walk toward her house, her silhouette fading into the warm glow of the street lamps. A deep breath left his chest, a slow exhale that seemed to carry the weight of everything he'd been considering.

Tomorrow morning. He had the day off, and he could finally talk to his mother. He would tell her his idea, share his thoughts with her. No more hesitation. He couldn't keep these feelings to himself anymore.

He just hoped she wouldn't scream with excitement and make it more complicated than it needed to be.

Morning came sooner than Sasuke expected, most likely because he was eager to finish the discussion with his mother as soon as possible so he could think through the plan for the proposal.

Sasuke sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. A glance at the clock told him he'd slept in—an unusual indulgence, but not an unwelcome one. He stood, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders before heading into the shower, his mind already drifting to the thoughts that had kept him awake the night before.

The scent of miso and grilled fish lingered faintly in the air when he came downstairs. The house was mostly quiet, as he had expected. His father had likely left early to meet with the clan elders, and Itachi was probably with Izumi and Isao.

He heard the faint rustle of pages before he saw her—his mother, seated in the yard, bathed in soft sunlight, her legs tucked neatly beneath her as she sipped her tea and read a thick book.

He stepped out onto the engawa and offered a soft, "Good morning."

Mikoto looked up from her book, her eyes warm. "You're up late," she teased, her voice as light as the breeze that played with her dark hair. "Go grab some breakfast. I made enough for an army."

Sasuke smirked faintly and stepped back into the house. "I figured I'd be the last one. I'll join you outside."

"Good," she called after him. "The weather's too nice to stay inside—and I want to finish this chapter. Sakura lent it to me. It's about medicinal herbs. Fascinating stuff."

Sasuke's footsteps paused for a beat. A flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Sounds like her."

"It's amazing how some seemingly worthless plants are able to have so much medicinal value within them." Mikoto said.

Sasuke grabbed his plate and made his way back outside, settling down beside his mother. The silence was companionable, the way it always was with Mikoto—peaceful, never forced.

After a few moments, Sasuke spoke, quietly but deliberately. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Mikoto lowered her book, setting it gently in her lap. She turned to him, curiosity dancing in her expression. "Of course. You can talk to me about anything."

Mikoto waited patiently, setting her book aside as Sasuke picked at his food in a way that told her he was thinking too much.

"Sakura's birthday is in a week," he said finally, eyes fixed on his bowl as if the words might slip out more easily that way.

Mikoto smiled knowingly. "I know," she said, her voice light with amusement. "I already got her a gift. A beautiful green kimono—I think it'll bring out her eyes. And it's a soft shade, not too bold. She'll look stunning in it."

Sasuke nodded slowly, lips twitching in a small smile. "That's… actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Mikoto leaned in slightly, curiosity piqued. "The gift?"

He paused, then nodded once. "Yeah. I've been thinking… I want to do something special this year."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Mikoto said without hesitation. "What did you have in mind?"

There was a beat of silence. Sasuke set down his chopsticks. His fingers curled slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he was trying to will the words into existence.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he muttered, "I thought of proposing."

Mikoto blinked. "Hm? What was that, dear?"

Sasuke exhaled slowly through his nose. His ears were already tinted pink, and now the color crept up his cheeks. He turned his head slightly, but didn't repeat himself right away.

"Sasuke," Mikoto said, amusement already creeping into her tone, "I didn't quite catch that. You'll need to say it again."

He took a breath—sharp and steady—and turned back to her, meeting her eyes with quiet resolve.

"I thought of proposing to Sakura."

There was a clink.

Mikoto's teacup slipped from her hand, landing softly on the grass without breaking. Her hands flew to her mouth, then to her chest, and in the next second, she was on her feet and hugging him tightly before he could even register it.

"Oh, Sasuke—Sasuke," she said, voice thick with emotion. "I'm so happy. So proud of you. I can't believe it—you're really going to—oh, she's going to be overjoyed—!"

Sasuke stiffened, caught in the kind of embrace that didn't leave much room to breathe. "Mother," he muttered, face burning, "calm down."

She pulled back, still smiling, still teary-eyed. "How can I calm down when you just said you're going to ask Sakura to marry you?"

"I want to," he corrected gently. "But… I don't know if she wants that."

Mikoto's hands were still resting gently on Sasuke's shoulders as he looked down, the pink in his cheeks not quite gone. Her smile softened, but the curiosity in her eyes remained.

"What did you mean, exactly," she asked, "when you said you weren't sure if Sakura would want to get married?"

Sasuke exhaled slowly. "I know she loves me," he said, voice quiet, but firm. "That's never been the problem. She's always loved me... since we were kids. You probably knew before I did."

Mikoto chuckled softly. "Of course I did. She used to stammer every time she saw you. It was adorable." Her voice dipped, affectionate and a little nostalgic. "And now look at her—confident, brilliant, completely at home in the compound... in this family."

Sasuke nodded once. "That's why I'm thinking seriously about this. But… we're still young. Maybe too young. I don't want to ask something that she's not ready to say yes to."

Mikoto studied him for a moment, then nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "That's a very mature thought, Sasuke. Marriage isn't just about love—it's timing, it's readiness. And you're right to consider that."

Mikoto reached for her tea again, smiling faintly. "I don't think she'd ever say no and mean it in a way that would hurt you. But I understand. You're not afraid of rejection—you're afraid of causing doubt where there shouldn't be any."

Sasuke nodded. "Exactly. That's why I need your help."

Mikoto sipped her tea, her eyes gleaming with amusement and affection. "Of course. I'm your mother. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

She stood, straightening her robe. "First thing's first: we bring in the expert."

Sasuke looked up, confused. "What expert?"

Mikoto smirked. "Kushina."

"I was thinking about her too."

"Of course." Mikoto said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "If I asked her directly it would draw attention and Sakura is an intelligent girl. You can't ask her anyway because then what's the point of surprises."

Sasuke's mouth twitched upward in a rare smile. "She always gives the best advice. Sakura respects her a lot… she won't hesitate to say what she really thinks."

"Exactly," Mikoto said. "We'll nudge her into the right conversation. Casually. Softly." She paused. "Well, as softly as Kushina can manage."

Sasuke chuckled under his breath. "You might need to rein her in a little."

"Don't worry. I've had years of practice." Mikoto winked. "Leave it to me."

As Mikoto stood, brushing invisible dust off her robes, Sasuke raised a brow.

"Where are you going?"

She turned with a serene smile. "To execute the plan, of course. We don't have much time to waste, do we?"

Sasuke gave a soft laugh, shaking his head as she walked off. 'She's taking this more calmly than I expected,' he thought, amused. 'But her true reaction… that'll come after the proposal. If there is one.'

The morning sun had climbed higher by the time Mikoto reached the Uzumaki-Namikaze home, the familiar gate painted a cheerful red. She knocked lightly, already picturing Kushina's bright smile and loud greeting.

The door creaked open… and instead of joy, Mikoto was met with a sigh.

Kushina's bright red hair was a little frazzled, her face the picture of exasperation. "Ah, Mikoto," she breathed out dramatically. "What an idiot boy ."

Mikoto blinked, alarmed. "What? Who?"

Kushina stepped aside and gestured into the living room with a thumb. "That one."

Mikoto peered in—and there he was: Naruto, hunched over a low table, surrounded by torn scraps of paper. He was scribbling something furiously… then groaning and tearing it up again.

Mikoto's brow lifted. "...Should I ask?"

Kushina let out another sigh and plopped down beside her. "He's been like this since morning. Writing love letters to Hinata, then throwing them away like he's starring in a tragedy."

"Hinata Hyuga?" Mikoto asked, though she already suspected as much.

Kushina nodded gravely. "He's completely smitten. Problem is, Hiashi is stricter than a stone wall. Naruto's barely had a chance to talk to her properly."

Inside, Naruto mumbled to himself, "Too cheesy… no, too cold… ugh, what if she thinks I'm weird—"

Mikoto covered her mouth to hide a smile. "I didn't realize we were living in a drama scroll."

Kushina groaned. "Tell me about it. This is the fourth time he's rewritten the same sentence: 'Your eyes are like moonlight reflecting off a tranquil pond.' I told him to stop stealing lines from Jiraiya's novels."

Mikoto let out a soft laugh, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, as entertaining as this is… I actually came here for something else."

Kushina perked up. "Oh?"

"It's about Sasuke… and Sakura."

Kushina's eyes lit up instantly. "Don't tell me he's finally going to—?!"

Mikoto raised a finger. "Shh. He's thinking about proposing. But he's not sure if Sakura wants to get married at this age. He asked me to help figure that out."

Kushina placed both hands over her heart like she'd been struck by love itself. "Oh Mikotooo, my boy's growing up!"

Mikoto smiled warmly. "And I thought… who better to nudge Sakura into a heart-to-heart than the village's unofficial counselor?"

Kushina's grin widened dangerously. "Say no more. Leave it to me. I have the entire situation under control. When does he want the answer? "

"The sooner the better," said Mikoto, "he needs to plan what he'll do if Sakura doesn't get married at this age."

"I think he should start planning the proposal. I think Sakura would be over the moon at the idea of marrying Sasuke."

From the living room, Naruto suddenly shouted, "Wait! Do you think pigeons are romantic?"

Both women burst into laughter.