Daylight

Starlight

A/N: I didn't want to split this chapter into parts, so it's extra extra long. I really wanted to write about cute domestic SasuSakuSara life before Sasuke departs for his long-term missions. Feel free to skip to when Sarada becomes 24 months if it's too long... enjoy! 

Two years had drifted away and Sasuke looked up at a starless sky, his head resting on his lone hand as his onyx eye searched for a glimmer of hope in the darkness. His body was bruised and bloodied beneath his tattered shirt as he lay in a foreign land. The bed of grass below him attempted to calm his anxieties, but failed, as Sasuke reminisced about the past two years... 

His thoughts trickled down his perfectly arched face, freeing itself from his cold skin as it landed on the carpet of grass beneath him. Every droplet was another memory that wrenched his heart into turmoil. Every thought of laughter and smiles from his loved ones was another curse. The feel of lips against lips sent electricity up his spine. Tiny hands clasping his was death itself taunting him. The first of his thoughts clouded his mind:

It was the night of their reunion with their old classmates, and Sakura had been updating her anti-social husband on the gossip and discussions she had had with her friends. She had learnt which of their friends had gifted them what, such as how it was Sai who had painted the Uchiha crest, and how Naruto had bragged how he paid for most of the new furniture, but it was Hinata who had confessed that he had used Sasuke's inheritance to pay for most of it. Sakura was also slightly disappointed to learn that Tsunade was on vacation and no one knew when she was expected to return. 

Sakura continued to meet up with her friends, trading parenting tips and whispering marital confessions that made her and her female friends blush and giggle. Sasuke would at first drag himself and Sarada along the first few times for Sakura's sake, but eventually he would huff at her requests and treasure his time with Sarada alone.

Drop.

***

She was eight days short of four months old. It was a hot day in July when he was awaken by his wife. Their child was sprawled against his own body, his arm guarding her tiny frame, vowing to keep her safe. He pried his onyx eye open to look at his wife who was hovering over him, her lips a bright cherry-red. 

"Ah, sorry, Sasuke-kun. I didn't mean for your lips to..." 

"What's wrong with my lips?" He mumbled, still worn out from the multiple times he awoke at night to soothe Sarada. 

Sakura brought her thumb down to Sasuke's lips and dragged it along the corners of his mouth. When she finally broke contact he could see the bright red plastered over her thumb. His eyes refused to cooperate and he found himself dozing off again.  

"Darling," he heard, her silky voice ringing in his ear. "Sasuke-kun. I'll take Sarada from you."  He felt her arms unclasp his own from Sarada's hips, and suddenly a small weight was lifted from his torso. 

When he was finally wide awake, feeling revitalised, he stepped out of the shower with only a towel covering his modesty. He rummaged through their wardrobe, but suspiciously found all his tops missing.  Frustrated, he cloaked his lower body in the first boxers and trousers he could find.

"Sakura," he called with slight urgency, as he padded down the stairs, clad in only black trousers. With every step he took, the smell of cooking wafted towards him. He opened the door to the dining room, casting a glance at Sarada who was chewing the ear of a green teddy he had gifted her. His mismatched eyes found Sakura in the adjoining kitchen, head bent over the counter. He paced forward and asked, "Sakura, have you seen my tops?"