Sakura's Letter

Part 3: Sakura

Uchiha Sakura had prepared her family's favorite entrée for dinner that evening. Although Sakura had more of a sweet tooth, her daughter seemed to take after her father's taste and when Sasuke was home, Sakura didn't complain about eating Onigiri and tomatoes more than once in two days. Sarada always seemed to be merrier when she arrived to dinner when he was home, knowing her mother would make her and her father's favorite.

Sakura hummed pleasantly to herself as she prepared the final touches of the meal, waiting for her husband and daughter to return, from what she presumed to be their own personal errands and training exercises.

Sakura had not expected Sasuke to recover so soon, shocked to have noticed his chakra's absence and their bedroom empty upon her return. She expected that he had gone to see the Hokage to discuss in more detail the intel that Sasuke had gathered on his mission away from the village. Still, Sakura admired her husband for his strength, understanding in full just how much of an effect the Rinnegan had on Sasuke's body. This was the first time she'd seen him bounce back so quickly.

Sakura had taken a few days off from the hospital on Sasuke's return, knowing her husband wouldn't come to the hospital for treatment now that she—an elite medical ninja—was his wife. She had spent three days in total, healing her husband from his injuries. Sarada had been impatient like she usually was when waiting on Sasuke to recuperate enough to come out of their bedroom. Sakura couldn't blame her daughter, admitting to herself that she had trouble with patience during this time, too.

Today, Sakura had returned to her shift at the hospital, knowing that there was nothing more that she could do for her husband other than to let him rest. Apparently, Sasuke didn't think he needed rest.

Sakura continued to hum happily, dicing the last of the tomatoes when her daughter walked through the door.

"Sarada," Sakura called out in her direction, looking over her shoulder. "I've made you and your father's favorite for dinner."

She heard a disgruntled response of acknowledgement and turned to see her daughter yank out one of the chairs from their dinging table and sit down. Obviously, Sakura had not received the merry Sarada she had been expecting.

"What's the matter, darling?" Sakura asked as she began to approach her.

Sarada pouted in return, jutting out her chin as she supported it with her palm. Sakura could recognize that sulking face from anywhere. It was an Uchiha thing, she told herself.

"Is it Boruto, again?"

"No," she replied tightly, "Papa."

Sakura was thrown by that. "Papa? What are you talking about?"

Sarada's frowned deepened and she raised her head from her hand, leaning forcefully back into her chair. "He promised to help me train this afternoon but never showed. I tried to find him, but it's as if he's not in this damned village!"

Sakura didn't know what to say to her daughter other than: "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. Your father is very important to the Village which makes him very b-"

"Busy. I know," Sarada finished for her, emphasizing the word "know." Sakura frowned and looked down. She understood her daughter's frustration and had always tried to appease her, stressing the importance of what it was her father was doing.

Sakura sat across from her daughter and took Sarada's hand. Her daughter peered up into her mother's eyes, seeming to soften at her touch. "Your father loves you very much."

It was at that moment that the door opened and Uchiha Sasuke stepped through the entry. Sakura and Sarada both stood up at what they saw. His shirt was bloody and his right eye faintly bruised. Hair disheveled and drooping his right arm, the Uchiha stopped at the sight of them. Sakura gasped.