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kelpiejz · 11 months

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Tradition - a SasuSakuSara oneshot

it’s been forever since I last used tumblr but hey, might as well use it again to post some SasuSaku fic, right?

Summary: Regardless of how many things have changed, the Gōkakyū no Jutsu remained the same.

You can also read this on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47920651

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

Standing alone on the pier in the eerily empty former Uchiha District, Sakura ran through the hand signs that came to her as easily as breathing these days. Though it had been years since she had last used the jutsu, she had the habit of practising the signs whenever she felt particularly alone.

She hadn’t learned the Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu here like her husband and so many others before him had, but she was no less capable of performing it. Just the thought of that training so many years ago made her heart clench with longing for her beloved, but she took a deep breath to push the thought from her mind and started the signs over again.

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

A massive ball of fire engulfed the air above a remote lake somewhere in Kusa, evaporating a few inches of water from the heat alone. Sakura stood next to Sasuke on the bank, still in awe of just how much control the man had over the signature element of his clan. Despite the massive size of the fireball that he had produced, it had never once threatened to light the dry grass just on the other side of the water.

“Did you get that?” Sasuke asked her calmly, glancing over at her with his mismatched eyes, seemingly almost studying her as he did so.

Her gaze met his after a moment and she frowned slightly. “The hand signs?”

“Aa.”

Though she wasn’t willing to admit it in the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of them, Sakura had known those hand signs by heart for years. She had spent far too much of her childhood watching him to not be familiar with the jutsu that Sasuke had used more often than the Chidori back then. How could she have forgotten when it had felt like he had set her heart aflame with every ball of fire he had breathed in their genin days?

Despite her impeccable memory and knowledge of all things Sasuke, little genin Sakura had never put her knowledge of the hand signs to use. Something about trying to spit even a pitiful ball of fire had felt wrong somehow—like she would have been trying to intrude on something sacred. No, she had never tried to breathe fire like Sasuke, but that didn’t stop her from practising to weave them seamlessly on the off chance that Sasuke—in all of his 12-year-old genin glory—would ask to train with her and decide to teach her his treasured jutsu.

That had obviously never happened back then, but little genin Sakura would never have expected herself to be learning the jutsu from him over five years and a war later.

After taking a moment to ready herself, Sakura weaved the signs, moulded her chakra, and hoped that Sasuke couldn’t see her nervousness or the familiarity with which she moved her hands. As she reached tiger, she breathed in deeply and brought her right hand up to her mouth to help direct what would hopefully be a breath full of fire. The resulting fireball was nowhere near the size of Sasuke’s, but it was far better than what Sakura had expected from a first attempt. After it dissipated, she took a step back with a wide grin.

“I did it,” she said breathlessly, almost in disbelief. Fire was not her element—far from it, really—so she knew she would never have the proficiency that Sasuke had as a child, but she had done it anyway. Looking up at Sasuke for approval, she had to hold back her gasp when she saw a small yet genuine smile upon his face.

As if feeling the weight of her gaze, he turned to look at her. “Aa. You did.”

Sasuke was never a man of many words, but even still, Sakura could hear just how much pride he felt with those words alone. Her heart felt as if it might beat right out of her chest as she turned to him and impulsively wrapped her arms around his torso. If he was surprised by the action—one Sakura had only recently come to understand didn’t annoy him anywhere near as much as he pretended it did—he didn’t show it. Instead, his lone arm returned the gentle hug.

“That was better than my first attempt,” Sasuke said out of nowhere, surprising Sakura with how open he was today. “Back then, I could barely even call it a fireball.”

Raising a brow, Sakura frowned at him. “Sasuke-kun, weren’t you six when you first learned it, though?”

He nodded, and she had to muffle a laugh in the fabric of his travel cloak.

“Sasuke-kun, I know you’re trying to make me feel better about how small mine was, but comparing me to you at six years old doesn’t help much.”

He was silent for a moment, which wasn’t a surprise, but the vaguely upset-looking expression she saw on his face when she looked up tugged at her heartstrings. Shaking her head with a teasing grin, Sakura stepped back from the embrace and tried not to mourn the loss of his higher-than-average body heat in the cool evening air.

“Still,” she said, “all that means is that I have to practise more, right?”

Instead of answering, Sasuke silently gazed over the lake as if he was seeing someplace completely different instead. Knowing he was likely caught up in his memories, Sakura chose to stay quiet and wait for him to decide if he would tell her what was on his mind. She had learned over the years that Sasuke would only talk if he wanted to, so there was no point in pressing him. Instead, she ran through the signs again and tried tightening her control over her chakra now that she knew what a proper Gōkakyū was supposed to feel like.

As she breathed out more fire, Sakura noticed it was slightly larger than before. At least she was going in the right direction, even if it would take far more practice. Still, it wasn’t good enough, and Sakura prepared herself to weave the signs once more.

“Sakura.”

She stopped, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“Sasuke-kun?” Sakura asked, wondering what he wanted to say now. “Is everything okay?”

Slowly, he brought up his hand to gently brush his thumb over her lips. “Be careful. It’s easy to burn yourself before you’re used to doing Katon jutsu.”

His voice seemed deeper than before for some reason, and Sakura couldn’t restrain the butterflies that began fluttering uncontrollably in her gut. Sasuke was always so effortlessly intense in everything he did, and she would forever be weak to him. Feeling almost entranced by his concern, she didn’t look away from his eyes once as she swiped a finger—glowing green with healing chakra—across her mouth and cheeks where she knew there were light burns.

“Do you know the importance of this jutsu?” Sasuke asked as soon as he seemed satisfied with her newly healed face. Sakura could only shake her head, but noticed that Sasuke seemed stiffer than usual all of a sudden.

“The Gōkakyū…” His voice trailed off into silence as he seemed to almost be at war with himself over if he should say anything or not. After this long on the road together, Sakura knew better than to press him. If he couldn’t say it now, he would tell her when he felt the time was right.

Sasuke exhaled, though, and he closed his eyes as he kept talking. “In my clan, the Gōkakyū was a rite of passage. You weren’t a true Uchiha until you could perform it sufficiently.”

‘No wonder Sasuke-kun was already so good with it by the time Team 7 was formed,’ Sakura thought. Being one of the only solid links to his clan he had left, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he had practised it until he dropped in the years following the massacre. But… something about his words made her thoughts race.

“So… why did you teach it to me?” Sakura asked slowly, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer to the question. Just being on this journey with him across the Elemental Nations was enough for her; she couldn’t afford to get her hopes up too much in case of any disappointment. However, in her peripheral vision, she saw Sasuke’s hand flinch almost as if he was holding back the urge to reach for her.

“Sakura… by teaching you this jutsu, you have proven that you can be a true Uchiha.”

‘Don’t get your hopes up, Sakura,’ she begged herself and her traitorous palpitating heart. ‘He can’t possibly mean—’

He took a shaky breath, but kept talking anyway. “I know the Uchiha name has been forever stained, and I would understand if you don’t want it attached to you because of the dangers to your reputation, but you are welcome to claim it as your own. Even if you don’t want it, I would not regret teaching the jutsu to you.”

Her eyes widened as she struggled to sort through all the thoughts blaring in her head. Out of all of them, though, only one made it out.

“Why?”

This time, Sasuke actually did reach for her hand and kept his gaze firmly locked on her hand in his. She had never truly realized just how small her hand was in comparison to his, but the warmth of his palm radiated into hers and something about it felt so right that she never wanted to let go again.

His grip tightened slightly, but not enough to be less than comfortable. “Because when I think of family, I think of you.”

Even though her heart warmed at his declaration, Sakura couldn’t help the instinctive and deeply rooted fear that followed it. Quietly, she had to voice it. “And what about Naruto?”

“What about him?” Sasuke almost seemed amused, as if there was something she wasn’t understanding, but the hint of a smile quickly vanished upon seeing the insecurity on her face.

“He isn’t… family? Even with all the Six Paths stuff from the war?”

Sasuke sighed and squeezed her hand gently. “Sakura, it’s not the same. He and I are connected, yes, but I never chose him like I’m choosing you. I never asked to be ‘soul brothers’ with the idiot.”

That… made sense, so Sakura nodded silently. Seeing that she was still feeling off about the whole thing, Sasuke released her hand and wrapped his arm around her back to pull her close to him. She could hear the accelerated beating of his heart even through his clothes, but she wasn’t expecting him to say anything else. However, Sasuke seemed intent on surprising her today.

“All my life, others have made decisions for me,” he began, his deep voice soothing Sakura’s turmoil even as he bared his emotions to her. “Every conclusion I thought I came to on my own, I discovered that I was manipulated into. Thinking I needed to kill my brother, wanting to destroy Konoha, even ending the war with Naruto. Despite that, despite everything, you are the only choice I’ve ever made that was entirely my own. Even if you don’t want my name or my clan to become yours because of how cursed it is, I just ask that you let me stay in your life as a close friend even if you no longer want me in any other way.”

She frowned, wanting to ask why he would ever think she would say no, why he would doubt her feelings even for a moment after so long. There were some universal truths in this world that would never change: the sky is blue, chakra flows through their coils, Naruto loves ramen, and Sakura loves Sasuke. Sakura Haruno had been loving Sasuke Uchiha for so long that she wasn’t sure she knew how to not love him. It was etched into her very soul, and if she had ever lost that love for him, she wasn’t sure she would even be the same person anymore.

As if understanding her question without her even asking it, Sasuke glanced at her with a serious yet vulnerable expression. “I’ve made too many choices for you before, and while I can’t regret the reasoning behind them, I can regret that I had to hurt you in my misguided attempts to keep you safe. But now, even if it could hurt me, I refuse to do that again. You deserve to have that choice too, Sakura.”

Wrapping her arms around Sasuke’s waist, Sakura finally found the willingness to speak amidst the overwhelming emotions crashing over her. She was feeling so much, too much, and while part of her heart hurt at the memories of the forest of death where the air was choked with purple miasma, the bench under a moon that bore witness to a desperate confession, the crater that remained of a hideout where she felt like she was drowning in a dark-eyed stare, the bridge where too many mistakes were made, the end of the world where she spilled her heart out once more, she remembered the good times too.

The classroom where she snuck glances at the boy who made her heart flutter, the training grounds where they learned what teamwork truly meant, the bridge where she cried and held him close, the exams where he complimented her talents, the ramen shop where they tried desperately to see the secrets hidden beneath a mask, the battlefield as hope arrived in an unexpected turn of fate, the strange realm with green skies where he caught her and she wondered if there was something deeper brewing in those eyes, the valley where he finally apologized in a voice she had never heard from him before, the gates where he poked her forehead and she truly allowed hope to bloom in her heart instead of repressing it to stay as a mere bud.

“I want it.” A pause. “All of it.”

He made no move to show he had heard her other than the minute tightening of his arm around her waist and a barely audible sigh of relief. After a moment, Sakura pulled herself away reluctantly, but looked over at him with a brilliant smile.

“Sasuke-kun, I hope you’re ready to give me more feedback on the jutsu; my Uchiha fire might never be as good as yours since fire isn’t one of my chakra natures, but I’ll be damned if it’s not up to your standards,” she stated as she began weaving the hand signs once more.

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

The sky was cloudy as Sasuke blew out his frustrations in the form of a long-lasting stream of fire over the lake he had practised on in his childhood. Sakura stood next to him, lips pursed, but she stayed silent and held their daughter closer to her chest. Sarada was still only a toddler, but the future was always uncertain.

The fire dissipated and Sasuke grimaced before blowing yet another one. If she wasn’t holding their baby girl, Sakura knew she would be right there next to him, adding her fire to his and filling all the gaps, complimenting each other the way they always had. But she couldn’t. They had both learned their lesson long ago—the world isn’t fair. The past few years had been almost idyllic in their simplicity with their small family in a humble home, but that would not last.

Sarada was only two, still far too young to understand why her father was upset or what it meant, but even she could tell that something was wrong. She whimpered and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, making Sakura instinctively cradle her closer.

“Dear,” Sakura said when Sasuke finished evaporating more water from the lake, “are you feeling a bit better now?”

Sasuke sighed, a frown finding the familiar place on his face. “No, but I’ll be fine. I just wish the world would leave us alone.”

She understood far too well. In only a few short months, her husband would once again leave the gates of Konoha (and her and Sarada) behind to wander the world, even if for a different reason this time. Sasuke always had such a strong sense of duty, and when rumours about Kaguya and Zetsu re-emerged, Sakura had known from the moment the words had been uttered in that meeting that he would be the one to go. He was their best option, their only option, even if he would much rather focus on his new family.

Right after Sarada had been born, he had tearfully promised both her and their daughter that he would do anything to protect them. In all the years Sakura had known and loved Sasuke, that had probably been the most emotional declaration she had ever heard come from his lips, and she believed in it unconditionally. If protecting them meant leaving them for years on end, then he would do it without looking back.

They stood silently on the dock and even Sarada was quiet as she slowly drifted to sleep in her mother’s arms. Sasuke came to them and wrapped the two most important people in his life in his arm, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head and then to Sakura’s forehead right over her seal.

“Not on the mouth, dear?” she asked teasingly and Sasuke huffed out a soft laugh in response, shaking his head.

“You always say you don’t like the taste of smoke after Katon jutsu, my dearest wife,” he whispered just low enough to send a tingle down her spine that she fought to suppress. This was neither the time nor place for that.

Leaning in, Sakura kissed him anyway, savouring the way his lips moved against hers in the practised way they always did. “I’ll live with the taste of smoke. But there’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?”

Pressing their foreheads together, Sasuke looked her in the eyes. “How did you know?”

“I know you,” Sakura pointed out with a sad smile. “I’ve always known when something was wrong.”

Sasuke sighed and closed his eyes after looking down at Sarada with a longing glance.

“I don’t know how long I’ll have to be away, Sakura. I know that you’ll be fine—that we’ll be fine—but still…” His shoulders fell, showing her a far more vulnerable Sasuke Uchiha than he had been in years. “I’m going to miss important parts of Sarada’s life, even if I’ve already seen her start to walk and speak. By the time I can be home for good, or even just to visit, she might already be in the Academy if she wants to be a kunoichi.”

Remembering a conversation from years ago, Sakura understood what other milestone he was subtly referring to even without a direct mention. It pained her to even consider that he might be gone that long, but there was a very low chance that everything would resolve itself that quickly. After all, nothing was ever simple when Team 7 was involved.

“Dear, I couldn’t…” Sakura gasped, clutching Sarada slightly closer. “You should be the one to teach her that; my chakra natures aren’t even fire.”

“And?”

Sakura knew she was grasping at straws, trying to find an excuse to ensure that he would teach Sarada the Gōkakyū when the time was right. His father had taught him, so he should be the one to teach their daughter. He knew how to perform the jutsu to perfection, and Sakura was fully aware that no amount of practice on her part would ever bring her up to his level in this, at least.

“I’m not the one who should be doing this, Sasuke, it’s an Uchiha family tradition and—”

“Sakura.” When Sasuke spoke in that firm tone that left no room for argument, Sakura couldn’t help but be drawn into his gaze. “I understand. I want to teach her the jutsu myself too, but just in case I can’t be home in time, I want you to teach her. I don’t want her to be behind her classmates in the Academy, or for her to miss out on her birthright.”

Sakura nodded silently, knowing he had more to say. He never talked this much with anyone else, but they had found comfort in the silence between words that occasionally said more than they ever could.

“You have as much right to teach her as I do, remember? You’re as Uchiha as I am now.”

Though she said nothing in response, it was clear she understood. In an uncharacteristic attempt to lighten the mood, Sasuke stepped away and smirked. “Just promise me that Kakashi won’t try to teach her before either of us can. He probably copied it when we were genin.”

Sakura couldn’t help it anymore and laughed, knowing that Sasuke was likely exactly right. Unfortunately, the sudden noise woke Sarada from her nap and she began fussing. Sasuke reached for her, wordlessly asking to hold his daughter, and with the ease of over a year of practice, Sakura helped position her comfortably in his one-armed hold. Almost as if she was aware of the safety of her father’s embrace, the youngest Uchiha calmed instantly, grasping onto his clothes with her tiny hands and a murmur of ‘Papa’ as she settled.

With a tilt of his head, Sasuke gestured to the lake. “It’s all yours.”

Feeling lighter than she had before, Sakura walked to the edge of the dock, moulded her chakra precisely to bring out the heat she desired, and weaved the signs.

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

Uchiha fire bloomed over the lake like it belonged there, and in a way, it did. The smile hadn’t left Sakura’s face since they had arrived on the old dock, and she was glad she had hired a genin team to fix the wobbly boards only a month ago. Though the old Uchiha District was slowly being rebuilt and repurposed after Sasuke finally got around to signing the paperwork that had been sent to him by one of Sai’s ink birds while he was away for his mission, the dock hadn’t been deemed a priority. How the old one had never collapsed beneath the weight of their entire family before Sasuke left, Sakura didn’t know, but now it was more than strong enough to easily and safely hold the weight of an academy student and her mother.

“Did you see that, Mama? I did it!” Sarada cheered breathlessly once the fireball vanished, leaving only the residual humidity of the evaporated water. Just as expected, soot and light burns darkened her cheeks from wasted chakra use and an unskilled hand to direct the breath of fire, but it was all too simple for Sakura to heal them away with barely a thought.

Pulling her six-year-old daughter into a tight hug, Sakura grinned with the overwhelming pride she felt brimming inside her. “I knew you would be able to do it!”

Ever since Sakura had mentioned the tradition on her birthday, Sarada had been begging her mother to take her to the lake and teach her the jutsu. Just like any other mention or link to her father, Sarada latched onto it like it was a lifeline. Though they couldn’t make it out until a few weeks later due to a hectic schedule at the hospital, Sakura had managed to book an entire day off to dedicate to her beloved daughter. Despite that, deep down, Sakura wished that Sasuke had been here to see Sarada blow a fireball bigger than Sakura’s first attempt had been. He would be so, so proud of her.

Just like any true Uchiha, it felt as if Sarada was born to breathe flames from her lungs. It wouldn’t surprise Sakura one bit if her daughter was hailed as even more of a genius than Sasuke had been in their academy and genin days, at the rate she was soaking up any training like a sponge. That wasn’t even counting her currently dormant Sharingan, which made a touch of fear rise in Sakura’s gut. She could never forget just how often Sasuke had been targeted for his eyes throughout most of his life, and if anyone found out just how young Sarada had been when she had first awakened it…

Instinctively, Sakura hugged her slightly tighter and silently renewed the vow both she and Sasuke had made before he had left. He would protect them from outside Konoha’s walls, and she would protect them from within. Nobody would hurt their daughter if she could help it.

“Mama, you’re squishing me again!” Sarada groaned and Sakura released her from her grasp with the same light laugh as always. No matter how many times Sarada complained, they both knew that she found some manner of comfort in Sakura’s too-tight hugs; the girl would pout and mope if they were even slightly looser—exactly the way Sasuke had once told her he had moped in his childhood after Itachi wouldn’t have the time to train. She was truly her father’s daughter.

With a laugh, Sakura gently patted Sarada’s dark hair. “That was better than mine, you know? You really are my little genius.”

“Really!?” Sarada exclaimed, eyes wide and glimmering with childish innocence. “Show me yours again, Mama!”

Of course, Sakura had gotten a lot more practice in the years since she had learned, but her hands flew through the familiar signs and she exhaled a plume of fire over the lake. Sarada giggled as the heat from the flames washed over them.

“Mama, that was bigger! See?” Sarada stumbled through the signs, her little hands still clumsy and unused to some of the more difficult ones to perform—like boar and horse. Her wrists didn’t yet have the flexibility they would acquire through training, and though Sakura had helped Sarada learn all the different signs on their own, she still had to learn how to fluidly switch between them.

Though the fireball wasn’t as big as the one her mother had just breathed, Sarada’s was still extremely impressive for her age. If this was what she was already capable of at only six years old, Sakura was almost afraid to imagine the kind of flames the girl would produce after she had more experience under her belt. It would come with time, and Sakura was certain that someday Sarada would truly master the jutsu like countless Uchiha clan members had before her, perhaps when Sasuke was back home with them to help her refine it.

Sarada giggled and grabbed onto Sakura’s hand, instantly putting a smile on her face and drawing her attention back to the little girl—her thoughts could wait when Sarada was so excited already. “Mama, we gotta do it together! It’ll be the biggest fireball!”

“Oh?” Sakura asked with a teasing smile and glance. “The biggest? Hmmm… maybe if we put our fireballs together, they might be as big as the ones I saw your dad make.”

Sarada’s jaw dropped in awe as she was practically vibrating in excitement. “Really!? Papa can make fireballs that big!?”

She nodded, remembering times from the war and their travels when Sasuke had made fireballs that likely would have made even Madara Uchiha proud. She had heard accounts of just how massive and devastating that attack had been right after the newly resurrected man had arrived on the battlefield of the 4th shinobi war, and knowing that her husband had reached that level was different than seeing it for herself. Of course, there were stories she couldn’t tell Sarada yet—ones she and Sasuke had unanimously decided would be best left until she was old enough to understand and until Sasuke was back to explain them himself—but she was always more than happy to talk about his feats and skills. If anything, they made the young girl even more excited at the prospect of seeing him again.

“That’s right,” she chuckled, “your dad is one of the strongest shinobi out there. Maybe if you ask really nicely, he’ll show you when he gets home.”

As if that had lit the metaphorical fire under their daughter, Sarada’s smile turned into a confident smirk that reminded Sakura far too much of Sasuke back when he was a genin and faced with a challenge he was confident he could overcome. Her heart clenched at the deluge of memories—Sarada looked so much like her father sometimes that the resemblance could make the distance between the divided parts of their family feel worse—but she would never deny their daughter anything.

“Let’s do it, Mama! I want to practise hard enough that we can make a fireball bigger than Papa’s together!”

And oh, wouldn’t that be a surprise for her husband when he eventually returned? Of course, it would take a long time for the two of them to ever match up to the two decades he had been practising the Gōkakyū, but Sakura knew that he would be touched and filled with pride if they even came close.

Crouching down next to Sarada, Sakura poked her daughter on the forehead with her index and middle fingers. She never had found out the entire story behind where this gesture had come from, other than the fact that it was something Itachi had done to Sasuke often when they were younger, but it had clearly meant a lot to Sasuke and she was more than happy to make sure their daughter associated it with an expression of affection in preparation for the inevitability of him poking her forehead after his return. If it was possible, Sarada’s grin widened even more as she laughed happily and put her soot-stained fingers over her forehead.

“Now let’s get practising, hm? That fireball isn’t going to happen overnight,” Sakura teased with a wry grin, relishing in Sarada’s joy. As much as her soul longed for Sasuke to be there with them, to be witnessing every moment of their daughter’s life alongside her, being able to show him the results of him putting his trust in her to carry on the family legacy would be a good backup option.

Sarada stood a bit too stiffly at the end of the dock, already breathing deeply and preparing to puff out her chest to take in as much air as fuel for the fire as she could. “Ready, Mama?”

“Always.”

As Sarada slowly formed the signs, Sakura matched her pace with pride blossoming in her heart.

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

Mother and daughter stood together on the dock, engulfing the lake in what must have seemed like a sea of flame, flickering with heat above the disturbed waters. They held the stream of fire for as long as they could before it tapered off, but it had been long enough to make them sweat from the heat and proximity alone. Standing up straight, Sakura smiled proudly down at her eleven-year-old daughter, knowing full well just how much work the girl had put into this jutsu.

“Did you see that!?” Sarada exclaimed, spinning quickly and running up to Sasuke, grabbing onto his only hand in her excitement. His visible eye was slightly widened and he almost seemed to be staring off into space, and Sakura had to resist the urge to giggle. It wasn’t often that she got to see her husband this surprised—the last time she could remember had been when she had casually told him she was pregnant over dinner and Sasuke had nearly choked after inhaling some rice.

After a moment, that gentle smile reserved for their family alone graced his lips and he bent down to look Sarada in the eye. “That was very well done, Sarada. Easily as good as I was at your age.”

Sakura hadn’t thought that the smile on their daughter’s face could get any wider, a common sentiment when it came to her husband and daughter, but it seemed she was mistaken as Sarada’s cheeks reddened in her glee. It had been a very emotionally chaotic few days for their family, especially considering the Shin Uchiha debacle, but she was glad that Sarada seemed to be even more comfortable with her place in their lives than ever.

Dragging her father to the end of the dock, Sarada gestured out over the lake. “Papa, you gotta show me yours! Mama told me stories of how good you are at the Gōkakyū, and I want to see you in action.”

“You saw me use the jutsu just the other day,” Sasuke said, though he seemed more amused than anything as he smiled fondly. Sakura assumed this must have happened before she had arrived to the fight, but couldn’t hold in the chuckle when Sarada shook her head. After all, there was one more thing her husband wasn’t aware of yet.

“C’mon, Papa, it’s not the same!” She protested, gesturing to the lake. “It has to be here.”

While this place had great importance to him due to his own childhood and the years of Uchiha tradition carried out here, the small wooden dock on the lake had become something special for Sakura and Sarada, too.

Every year since Sakura had taught Sarada the jutsu, the two had returned here for an entire day to sit on the end of the dock, to dip their feet in the cool water, and to tell stories. Sarada would talk about the academy, her friends, and her hopes for the future. Sakura would reminisce, teasing her daughter with anecdotes about when she was young and still drooling on her father’s empty sleeve. The morning would be spent peacefully, then they would eat a picnic lunch they had prepared together in the morning, and every year Sarada would ask her mother for stories about Sasuke.

Sakura didn’t know how many times she had told the stories of their times on Team 7 as genin, when they reunited during the war (though Sarada was unaware of how long they had been separated beforehand and assumed, in all her wide-eyed childish innocence that they had simply been fighting on different battlefields), and when he had caught her when she was completely drained. When lunch was over, they would pack up and return to the dock.

They would each silently think of their regrets, their worries, and their stressors from the past year before moving on instinct alone to weave the signs ingrained into their very souls. They would inhale, feeling the heat rise in their lungs until it was nearly overwhelming, and then they would expel the negative energy in the form of a purifying fire that tied them across an unknown distance to their wandering loved one. They would let the Uchiha fire cleanse everything, leaving them feeling rejuvenated and even more connected as family.

Sakura smiled, knowing that Sarada had wanted to bring her father here today of all days to show him this new tradition, and turned back to look out over the lake. With a fond sigh, Sasuke formed his one-handed seals and, with the ease of practice, created a truly massive fireball that—from where they were standing—blocked out the sun itself. Sarada’s eyes gleamed in excitement, an ear-splitting grin on her face as the intense heat vanished along with the fire.

“Papa,” she breathed quietly before turning to him, “that was awesome!”

His gaze seemed to warm further as he looked down at Sarada fondly. “Aa.”

Though Sakura knew Sasuke would likely deny it if anyone asked, the praise from his daughter clearly made him happy. It was such a relief to see him in such good spirits, especially after everything he (and they) had been through in recent and prior years. She was also fully aware that while his jutsu had been truly massive, it was carefully controlled to be impressive while simultaneously completely safe for them—something the Sasuke of years beforehand would never have done.

‘Yes,’ Sakura thought to herself, ‘fatherhood suits him much better than he expected it would.’

“We didn’t have time to make lunch, but that’s okay,” Sarada said suddenly. “The important part is the jutsu anyway, and we’re all here so we can finally do this right! Just… maybe make the fireball a bit smaller this time since we’re going to do it together.”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Sakura in confusion, causing her to smile and laugh under her breath. Of course, to him, they had already done all that was necessary. Standing between them as she was, Sarada reached out and grabbed onto her parents’ hands before she and Sakura closed their eyes.

Narrating for her father’s sake, Sarada began to speak. “Papa, this is something Mama and I have been doing for years. Think back to all your worries and regrets from the past year—though you can think of ones from other years too since you haven’t done this as much as we have.”

Sakura felt a pang in her chest, knowing from many whispered conversations under the trees or in their bed just how many regrets her husband truly had. Perhaps this would be good for him, in a different way than his journey of redemption had been. It was different from the time they had come here before his departure, too. That time had been filled with frustration and hidden sorrow, while today was all about closure.

“Then, you mould your chakra, mixing the worries in with it. Turn all the bad feelings into fuel, and then we let the fire burn them away.”

From the feel of his chakra alone, Sakura could sense just how much pride Sasuke was feeling at that moment and she was sure that if she opened her eyes, she would see a genuine smile upon his lips. No one loved like the Uchiha, and he was surely overcome by those feelings. Their daughter wouldn’t be drawn toward the darkness the way he had been, and this exercise was just proof of it.

Sarada reluctantly let go of their hands, and the small family whispered under their breaths as they weaved the signs together.

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

They breathed in and, for a moment, everything seemed to still as they opened their eyes—crimson and viridian and lavender rings, all blazing with determination.

Then, the combined fire of the entire Uchiha clan blazed once more over the lake, cementing bonds and purging all regrets.

#sasuke x sakura #sasusaku #fanfic #sasusakusara #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #sarada uchiha #sasuke and sakura #uchiha family #sasusaku fic #ss fic #vignettes #introspective

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pinkhairedlily · 11 months

Text

perks of a wallflower

for sasusaku shoujo week 2023. prompts: high school, festivals, love confessions, accidental kiss, kabedon, wallflower. sasuke first person pov

here's an accompaniment to your reading

I, Uchiha Sasuke, seventeen years of age, only want nothing but peace in the last year of my high school life. So far, I have been successful ducking away from high-energy (like Uzumaki Naruto who I think takes five energy drinks in a day the way he’s always loud-mouthed and laughing and screaming in the hallways), and high-activity people (like Haruno Sakura, student council member since freshman and is now the current president. She probably has magical time management skills because I don’t know how she can fit everything in her schedule).

I am simply content in acing the expectations set by my family name.

Excellent grades.

First place in exams.

Official representative in academic competitions.

The successor of the alumnus with distinction, Uchiha Itachi.

The official top rank nobody in Konoha High, in other words.

Except I’m not.

Not really.

Not when President Sakura is always near second to me, short only by one point or two. And maybe it’s because she’s juggling everything in those two dainty hands of hers that she can’t be perfect all the time.

It’s not that I pay attention. It’s just that her hands are tiny.

And soft.

She grabbed my arm when classes broke for lunch one time and told me to go to the clinic.

“You’re hot.”

I wouldn’t know how to respond if I wasn’t running a 40 degree. “Gee, thanks,” I sloppily replied.

“No, but really. You need to go to the doctor.” Her face was painted with concern. There was nothing different about it; she dons this exact same expression to all her constituents.

It was the fact that she saw me, in the midst of class, battling a fever I thought I perfectly hid.

She didn’t wait for my response then. She dragged me towards the room, and pulled me into her orbit.

There’s a phenomenon called Zero Shadow Day when the sun is at the zenith and its rays fall perpendicular to an object. The shadow, usually cast behind it, falls directly under. Being skin-close to her is exactly that kind of phenomenon; I become engulfed in her.

My brother never fell in love in high school, but I did with Haruno Sakura.

xxxx

“Sasuke, you still don’t have a role.” The teacher taps his pen on the bound script. “Naruto beat you in signing up for the tree.”

“We have district finals!” screams the blonde baseball captain.

I clear my throat, but it just attracts even more unwanted attention. “What’s left?”

A beat passes which is more suffocating than the irritated throat I have now. “An understudy.”

“Great—”

“—of the princess.”

I could hear the blonde stifle his laughter behind me.

“Okay,” I sigh, “so long as the real princess shows up.”

After rehearsals, the prince comes up to me and taps my shoulder. I wish she wouldn’t untether me from the ground.

“I know you’re only doing this because they made it mandatory for graduation, but I’m still glad you’re with us,” Sakura says with a grin.

“Yeah, sure.”

Shouldn’t I have more words in my arsenal?

“Do you want some bread with mulberry jam? I finished half of it already.”

“That’s a lot.”

“I tend to devour food when I’m nervous.”

“Nice.”

That’s a horrible reply, Uchiha Sasuke.

xxxx

It’s a slow rehearsal, but I’m privileged to endure the multiple ‘back-to-the-start’ behind the curtains, against the wall, mindlessly scrolling through pages of dialogue. A big figure surprises me out of my musings—and oh my God, why is Sakura so close?

“I need my personal space,” I manage to croak out, but that made me sound more like a douchebag than a guy panicking over his crush standing a few inches away from him. It’s hard to breathe but I somehow manage to smell the faint jasmine in her hair and the strawberry on her lips.

Sakura complies in good spirit, rather too quickly for my liking (aren’t you panicking @/self?!). “Just practicing for the last scene.”

“I’m a spare.”

“You never know when it’ll come in handy, Sasuke. Besides, familiarizing this proximity lessens the ick-factor for you eventually.”

I’m pretty flexible when her mouth curls up in corners. The bound papers fall to my side, as a prop, as it should be, and I retrace the steps she took earlier. In my hazy vision, she wavers in her stance when in fact she stays rooted on the floor. It’s me who’s losing footing.

I reach her, approximately three inches away, and I breathe her in again uninhibited, along with her verdant eyes that learned not to look away. It’s a role I’m supposed to play. “This close?”

Her green eyes capture me in still frame. My mind makes up the vision of her throat closing up and her breath hitching. “Closer.”

My foot feels like lead. It’s just one step, I tell myself.

“—Break time’s over everyone!”

xxxx

My luck strikes on the day of the cultural festival wherein our little production happens to be the culminating activity in the gala night. This is so much fun (sarcastic).

Normally, I wouldn’t get too hung up about this, considering I am only an understudy, but lo and behold, the teacher informs me thirty minutes before the second act that the princess is sick.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean by 'the princess is sick'?”

“Her stomach pain has become unbearable so you need to do what you are tasked to do, Uchiha.”

“I am an understudy.”

“Of the princess.”

“....”

“The princess is just lying down most of the time for this act, Sasuke. Your dialogue is literally on the last part.”

Which I didn’t know by heart.

I swear.

“Okay fine.”

The story is one you are already familiar with. The princess tries to escape her fate by going on an adventure but somehow gets cursed to fall asleep indefinitely until she is awakened by the true love’s kiss. We don’t know anything about the prince, but we know that it’s the person the princess loves the most.

It’s the opposite in my case, as I lie rigid and stoic against the greatest battle waged in the princess’ journey. No one knows who I am, but I know who I love the most.

Sakura is cool, judging by the cheers and almost-fanchant screams in the audience. I keep my eyes shut (I don’t think I’ll ever recover when I find her hovering above me, inches away), and all sounds fall mute to my drowning ears.

I hear the strings of words I’ve memorized from behind the stage, even the liminal pauses in between where her breath rests. I think of the patterns in her footsteps—ten until she gets to my deathbed on the center of the stage. What I’m not prepared for is the graze of her stray strands against my cheek. I take my fill of her scent and all her emotions suspended in the silence she closes the distance in.

There’s a slight shift in the background. A raucous scraping against the wooden stage, and I zero in on Naruto moving a little earlier than expected, and one of his very very long branches hit Sakura on the back.

A yelp becomes the next line.

I open my eyes the exact moment I taste strawberry.

xxxx

The cultural festival ends with the traditional dance around the bonfire.

It’s momentous in the sense that anyone can get a free pass to spill their guts in the dancing flames to their person of affections and expertly hide their pained expressions in the shadows.

I choose the bright lit classroom on the fourth floor where President Sakura spends the last hour of the night as my tragedy milieu.

For some weird reason, I kept the costume on, minus the hair in case this Ancient Greek montage goes either way. I am Snow White with the same ebony hair and pale skin. I offer an apple sans the poison and apologize.

“The great Uchiha Sasuke saying sorry!” She shrugs and bites down on the apple. “Shouldn’t you be the one who’s angry?”

“The student body thinks I defiled the perfect prince.”

She shakes her head, breaking in a chuckle, “It was theater, and they were just overreacting.”

“Still, I don’t think it’s proper.” I brace for the truth. “It might have been your first kiss and I took it away.”

“It’s all right. Maybe it’s the same for you? Aren’t you bothered by it?”

It’s hard to focus and stay serious when Sakura is ahead of me in her nonchalant grace, eating my attention away in every bite. “I’m all right with you as my first kiss.” Maybe if I tell the truth, she wouldn’t hear it over the mulch.

She wipes the juice from her lips as they transform into a smile. “Then that makes the two of us.”

I’m the one who chokes on the imaginary fruit. “What?”

“I said that makes the two of us.” No more munching this time.

I think I’m having problem swallowing. No way. All those people, and she likes me?

And I think I said my thoughts out loud.

She laughs, and the melody turns her redder than the almost fully consumed apple in her hand.

“Are you still playing along?” I seldom have my heart on my sleeve, but I’m wearing mine on the roses embroidered on the chest.

“It’s not part of the script, Sasuke.” The pale core of the apple makes a stark contrast against her cheeks.

“I like you.” I tell her the lines I rehearsed over and over again this past year. “It’s not part of the dialogue.”

“You look so silly saying that in a princess dress.” She laughs again, and this time she couldn’t stop. I’m not sure if this is going the right way. “You know, I’m not sure if you’d notice, but that only means I did a good job hiding it.”

What’s the proper response for that? “My head hurts.”

My disconnected reply does not deter her own confession. “I like you, Sasuke.” Her gaze lands on anywhere but me. “For a long time now. How else would I know you have a fever that day?”

Actors get stuck on lines. They forget the next words. Some people depend on off-stage prompters, others improvise. I’m not an actor, no matter how much I practice and make up scenarios which I would rather describe as overthinking, but I choose the latter.

My steps are still too heavy for all the nervousness that holds me down, but I reach her soon enough. “I think the student council president deserves a last dance for her last cultural festival.”

She quickly finds her spaces within the expanse of my arms. Maybe that’s what happens when I’ve carved out the place for her.

“This is not part of the play,” I whisper.

“It is,” she replies, “The teacher just cut it out because of the runtime.”

She steps on the hem of my dress, and the resulting sidestepping makes her double down in another fit of laughter. She’s closer to me now, much closer than the three inches we practiced.

“Oh Sasuke, I have another confession.”

I don’t think I’m ready—

“It wasn’t Naruto’s fault.” She’s breathless. “It wasn’t an accident.”

“Oh.”

I make a step, an attempt at fumbling. She holds me steady at my waist. I learn that my hands can cradle her entire face while hers seep cold against the fabric of my dress. This time, I taste apples as I bend down. “This one isn’t too.”

I, Uchiha Sasuke, want nothing but peace in the last year of my high school life. So far, I managed to find and keep it.

ao3 link | buy me coffee ☕

#sasusaku #ss shoujo week 2023 #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke #sakura #ss fic #high school au #fic!pseudolily #fic!pinkhairedlily

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theredconversegirl · 1 year

Note

hello! i stumbled upon a very good ss wedding fic set during blank period!!! i just thought — sharing is caring ✨ hope to see more of these 🤗

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34970038

Hello nonny,

Thank you for stopping by with a rec! 💕

That's so sweet of you 🥰 and I completely agree; sharing is caring and we're here to support & enjoy that. 🤗

Here's the fic details:

one certainty amidst a thousand doubts By: pseudolily It wasn’t in their plan to stay for an extended period in this village. It was supposed to be a stopover for supply replenishment, and a one-night reprieve in this arduous journey. Especially since the town wasn’t really special. It was just a farming town for flowers. Or where Sasuke and Sakura learn to confront the elephant realizations they have been skirting around for some time now, and what happens in the end is nothing short of ordinary; it signals the turning page to forever. [Rated K, complete]

Happy reading everyone! 🍅🌸

Thanks again for the help, have a nice weekend! 🤍

Stay Safe,

xoxo

#theredconversegirl answers things #SasuSaku #ss fic #Blank Period #wedding fic #nonny recommends

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crazy-rat-man · 2 years

Text

Logan Gets in Hot Water

Summary: Logan is faced with gay panic after getting asked on a date with an extremely attractive man, whilst also coping with his two crushes on the local baristas.

Pairings: Logince, Logicality, Analogical, Moxiety, LAMP, platonic Virgil/Remus/Janus

Warnings: a couple swears

Logan stopped at his usual coffee shop at precisely 9:45. Although he did have the day off, he didn’t want to stray too far off his normal schedule. It was abnormally quiet today, the usual couches and tables empty. Logan mentally logs the occurrence and saunters up to the counter.

“A large black coffee, please.”

At the register was a new barista that he’d never seen here before. He had brown hair with purple tips and a downcast look on his face.

“A dollar ninety-five. Do you want a receipt?”

“Please.” Logan handed over two dollars in cash. “Keep the change.”

Logan waited patiently, watching the barista methodically pour the coffee, some dripping off the sides. He began immediately apologizing to his supervisor, who began to reassure him.

“No, no, you’re doing great, kiddo! Just slow down and wipe down the sides when you’re finished pouring.”

Patton noticed Logan waiting and he gleefully smiled at him. Logan responded with a polite smirk.

“Well, good morning, Logan! I thought it was your day off?”

“It was, but I didn’t want to stray off routine.” Although Logan detested small talk, he found himself looking forward to his conversations with the barista before his coffee. He was surprised Patton remembered it was his day off, though he shouldn’t have. Patton has always been very thoughtful.

“Well, I’m glad you still stopped in this morning, I always love to see you!”

Logan quickly looked around the room to find something to change the conversation and to call attention away from his blushing. His eyes glazed over to the violet barista. “Is he new?”

“Oh, yeah. Virgil started this week. He’s pretty quiet, but he’s actually a natural at latte art! You should get one this week!”

While Logan hardly ever changed his coffee order, he was enticed by this Virgil. “Sounds excellent.”

“Uh, here you go.” Virgil placed the cup down on the counter.

“Thank you, Virgil.” Logan picked up the cup and began to head out the door.

“See you tomorrow!” shouted Patton. Logan nodded and headed off to his next engagement.

Since Logan had the day off, he thought it an excellent day to catch up on some reading at the park. Normally he prefered to read in the comfort of his own home, but the floor was being fumigated and it was nice outside. There were a few college kids quietly playing ultimate frisbee, and a couple moms with their kids. Logan found a park bench under a tree and pulled his book and a granola bar out of his bookbag.

As Logan began to read his newest Agatha Christie novel, he found himself unable to focus. He understood his feelings towards Patton, though he knew those were just silly daydreams. But now the new barista? He could hardly stand feelings towards one of them, but two? Statistically speaking, he didn’t have half a chance with either, so falling for both were not very good odds. But still, he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Dammit! Why do all of the employees there have to be perfect?

Logan’s mental debate was interrupted by a pigeon landing on his shoulder. To be completely honest, it wasn’t the bird that interrupted his thoughts as much as a young man with a camera yelling at him to be still.

“Hey, Poe? Would you mind if I took a picture? The bird and the whole librarian look is too good not to shoot.”

Logan would never admit this, but he appreciated being compared to Edgar Allen Poe, almost as much as he appreciated the exceedingly handsome man paying him attention.

“I don’t see why not. But I think you may also have to ask the bird.”

The laugh that came out of the photographer was enough to make Logan blush. Surely the joke wasn’t that funny, but his laugh was amazing.

“Could you look right at the camera? Yes, yes, perfect!”

As soon as the pictures were done, the bird flew off to pick up some crumbs in the street. Logan watched the bird disappear and turned around to see the photographer sitting next to him.

“Wanna see?”

Logan was amazed at what he saw. Sure, Logan was just an ordinary guy. But these pictures with the bird made him look majestic.

“These are amazing! I swear, you could be a model.” For the third time today, Logan was uncontrollably blushing.

“Well, thank you. Your pictures are also adequate. Are you a professional?”

“Oh, no,” the photographer laughed. “Hopefully one day, but I’m still a student.”

“I believe you have the skill set to be able to achieve that one day. You have an eye for these sorts of things.”

“Yes, I do have an eye for beauty,” the photographer said with a wink. Shit, now they were both blushing.

“Oh, where are my manners? Pray forgive me, I’m Roman.”

“Logan. Pleased to meet you.”

Roman bit his lip and took a small breath. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I would love to take more pictures of you. You’re very photogenic, you know.”

This stranger wanted to spend more time with him? Maybe he was just cursed with all of these attractive guys.

“Oh, um, thank you. I don’t have any other engagements, so-” Before Logan even finished his sentence, he was being dragged to the nearest fountain.

Logan couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed being photographed for two hours. Pictures were never his thing, but Roman made him laugh more times than he could count on his fingers. They finally stopped to grab some pretzels at a stand.

“Would you mind holding Maria?”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. That’s the name of my camera!” Logan smiled at his endearing nature and took the camera in his hands. When he looked back up, Roman was gone.

He better not be paying for both of them.

By the time Logan made his way over the pretzel stand, Roman was holding two pretzels. “You want mustard?’

“You didn’t have to pay for me, I could have paid for myself.”

“Come on, microsoft nerd, the gentleman’s always supposed to pay on the first date.” Roman then realized he said that comment out loud. Both of them mirrored the other looking like a deer in headlights.

“I-I meant to say on the first day! We’ve ever met! Because we met, you know, today,” Roman stammered. Shit he’s cute.

“So, mustard? Heh.“

“Why are you the gentleman? Both of us are males.”

Roman began to laugh uncontrollably. “Fragile ego, much? Next time, you can pay then, Specs.”

Next time. Logan liked the idea of next time.

“Oh, look at the time! I’ve got a seminar tonight. Could I have your number? So, I can, you know, send the pictures.”

“Sure.”

The two exchanged numbers and went their separate ways, and neither of them could stop thinking of the other.

A few days went on of them exchanging flirtatious text messages when they finally decided to meet up again.

Prince RoRo: When am I finally going to see your marvelous face again?

Logan: We video chatted last night.

Prince RoRo: No dummy I mean in person :)

Logan didn’t quite understand why his stomach was hurting, but he didn’t exactly hate it. Roman wanted to see him again. Logan quickly ran his schedule through his head.

Logan: I’m pretty busy this week, but I stop for coffee every morning at 9:45 in Beanie’s.

Prince RoRo: Sounds like a date ;) see you tomorrow!

A date. Huh. Logan hadn’t been on a date since high school when he was still pretending to be straight. What does one wear to a coffee date? And since when did Logan care about his wardrobe?

Logan woke up at 6:30 out of anticipation for his date. After trying on all of his clothes in his closet, he decided on a black polo and a blue tie. He then combed his hair to perfection and took an ibuprofen to calm his nerves.

At 9:42 Logan waited outside of Beanie’s for Roman, wanting to be polite. Where is he? Did he forget? Did he bail? Logan knew these thoughts were foolish, but he couldn’t help but think them. Luckily, he didn’t have to worry for long; Roman walked up to Beanie’s at 9:44. Wow he’s hot.

“This is the place, huh? It’s pretty cute.”

“They have good coffee.”

Roman suppressed a laugh and held out his arm for Logan to take. Logan’s stomach started to hurt again.

“Shall we then?”

Patton’s face lit up when he saw Logan walk through the door, but immediately dropped when he saw Roman. Patton shook his personal feelings out of his demeanor and put on his customer service face.

“Hey, Logan! Who’s this?” Patton asked politely. In all honesty, he didn’t really want to know. Though, the new stranger was handsome.

“I’m Roman! Excellent to meet you! Logan says this is his favorite place for coffee and I had to check it out!”

Patton’s face lit up at the favorite coffee part but dropped again when he heard them bantering about who would pay.

“Nonsense. I said I would pay next time when we got pretzels. It is next time.”

“Fine, Book Germ, you can pay. This time.”

Patton’s heart sunk to his stomach. This isn’t their first date. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his favorite purple barista with the same sunken look.

“Uhm, Logan, the usual?” Virgil asked.

Over the past few weeks of Logan coming in here, Virgil had come out of his shell and usually engaged in conversation. Now it feels like the first time it came in here. Logan didn’t know why that made him upset. He already has Roman.

“That’d be fine, Virgil. Thank you.”

“And for you?” Virgil asked the letterman jacket clad stranger.

“Hmm, I’ll take an iced mocha almond milk latte, please and thank you,” Roman answered excitedly.

“Coming right up.”

The coffee shop was quieter than when Logan usually came in, with an uncomfortable tension in the air. As soon as the drinks were prepared, Patton and Virgil excused themselves to the back. Virgil totally didn’t see Patton’s eyes well and Patton definitely didn’t see Virgil legs shaking.

V-card: plan’s off. he’s got a bf

Dirty Rat: wuts ur point

V-card: I can’t do that to him I should just be happy for him

Dirty Rat: date both of them

V-card: I should’ve texted Janus

Dirty Rat: cant he’s getting his butt cheeks glued together rn

V-card: omg

Virgil didn’t really know why he was texting Remus when Patton was right there. Maybe because it was clear Patton felt things for Logan too. He didn’t need to hurt himself more than he already was but he also didn’t like it when Patton was upset.

“You okay, Padre?”

Patton plastered on a smile and brushed the tears away. “Sure am, Kiddo! Just allergies, that’s all.”

“Maybe they’re just siblings.”

“Siblings who hold hands?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe kiddo. Want a cupcake?”

“Only if you have one too.”

Virgil smiled up at Patton and Patton beamed. Things were going to be okay.

Logan and Roman sat at a little tea table and drank their coffee, but Roman could tell something was off with Logan.

“What’s up, Lo?”

Logan was startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, nothing important. The barista’s are just different today.”

“Not the usual people?”

“No, they usually talk more to me. Is it the tie?”

Roman looked over at the counter at the two eating cupcakes and side-eyeing Logan.

“Specs, you really are clueless.”

This got Logan’s attention. “What?”

“They like you. For good reason too, they’re almost as cute as you are.”

Logan didn’t know what to do with this information. For one thing, Roman called him cute. Secondly, the baristas might like him back. And for a third, Roman thought they were cute too. Do they like him? Logan mentally goes through all of their conversations every morning.

“Oh. Huh. Well. Uhm.”

“Full sentences, Lolo. You think they’re cute too, don’t you?”

Logan hesitated. Was this a trick? A test? Be honest or give the answer Roman might want to hear? After a moment of silence, he quietly answered, “yes.”

Logan expected Roman to look disappointed, but for some reason, he looked brighter.

“You got a pen?”

He knew by now not to question Roman’s antics and slowly handed over his blue ballpoint pen. Logan watched as Roman scribbled something on a post it note and ran up to the front.

“Here, for both of you!” he proclaimed as he slammed the sticky note on the counter.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Virgil and Patton went up to the counter to read what was on the note. From what he could see, it was two phone numbers and a winky face.

“What just happened?”

“I dunno, Pat. Did he just ask us out?”

Patton just smiled from ear to ear. He looked over and waved at the couple at the table, Roman smiling and waving back, and Logan looking like a deer in headlights.

As the two of them walked out the door, Logan left a ten dollar tip and Roman winked at the pair of boys behind the counter.

KittyPat: hello? You gave us your numbers today?

Prince RoRo: Hello there, fair lad! Glad you got my note :)

V-card: who’s the other #

Prince RoRo: It’s Logan, ofc! He kinda likes you both :3

Logan’s stomach started to hurt again. Why do they have to hurt his stomach so much?

V-card: ...

KittyPat: Logan?

Logan: I suppose I should confirm that it is true.

All at once, Virgil, Logan, and Patton stopped whatever they were doing and just stared at their phones.

Prince RoRo: So, dinner tomorrow night? :)))

KittyPat: sure! <3

V-card: I’m down.

Prince RoRo: Logan?

Logan stared at his phone once more. Was this really happening?

Logan: Sounds nice.

KittyPat: :D

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