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My first, quick, AE, chapter 1, part 1
“Sarada! Are your chores finished yet?”
Sakura hurried down the hall, a basket of laundry balanced on her hip. It had been an entire month since Sasuke had been home, and he had just called letting her know that he would be back tonight.
“Sarada! What are you—” She stopped short as she walked past Sarada’s open door and saw her daughter lying in bed, a book open on her lap. Clothes were thrown all across the room and books piled up on all inches of the floor. “Sarada Uchiha. I told you over an hour ago to get to work on your room! Your father is coming back tonight and we can’t have him coming home to a mess of a place!”
“Yeah yeah,” Sarada muttered, flipping the page. “Gotta make everything perfect for dad, who’s never here. Maybe we can trick him into thinking we’re actually clean since he never stays long enough to actually know what it’s like to live with us.”
Stomps sounded in the room and in an instant Sakura had snatched Sarada’s book out of her hands.
“Hey!”
“Sarada, you will never talk about your father like that again, do you understand me?” Sarada opened her mouth to retort but stopped at the look in her mother’s eyes. Instead, she rolled her eyes and pushed herself out of bed.
“Fine, fine. Whatever. I’ll get to work, all right?”
Sakura nodded her head. “Good. He’ll be here in less than an hour. I’m going to start getting to work on dinner.”
As she left her daughter’s room, she tried to ignore the anxiety that rippled through her as her daughter’s words echoed through her mind, over and over: Gotta make everything perfect for dad, who’s never here.
She shrugged it off and headed into the kitchen. Sasuke would be home soon enough.
The next morning
Sakura awoke to the sun pouring through the windows. She shot up—a reflex from years of ninja training—and let out a gasp as a pain shot through her back.
“Stupid…” she muttered to herself. “That’s what I get for falling asleep at the… table.” In an instant, everything came flooding back to her. She was sitting in a wood chair and had spent all night bent over, her head resting on the kitchen table. She had spent all night, waiting in that stiff wooden chair for Sasuke to come home.
But he had never come.
She looked to the counter, where riceballs and dumplings sat cool and stale from sitting out the long night. Beside her, the phone blinked. A voice message.
She wiped the crust from her sleepless eyes and held the phone to her ear.
“Sakura. Sorry. Something came up. I won’t be home for another few weeks… Two at the latest. I’ll keep you updated.”
The phone cut off to the ringing dial tone.
Sakura sat unmoving, just frozen with the phone against her face. She should have known. It was always like this. Always. In their ten years of marriage, he’d no doubt spent less than a third of that time with his family. Once again, Sarada’s words came back to her: Gotta make everything perfect for dad, who’s never here.
The phone clattered to the table. Sakura buried her face in her hands.
That morning, Sarada awoke to the sound of her mother’s sobs.
“Sarada! Are your chores finished yet?”
Sakura hurried down the hall, a basket of laundry balanced on her hip. It had been an entire month since Sasuke had been home, and he had just called letting her know that he would be back tonight.
“Sarada! What are you—” She stopped short as she walked past Sarada’s open door and saw her daughter lying in bed, a book open on her lap. Clothes were thrown all across the room and books piled up on all inches of the floor. “Sarada Uchiha. I told you over an hour ago to get to work on your room! Your father is coming back tonight and we can’t have him coming home to a mess of a place!”
“Yeah yeah,” Sarada muttered, flipping the page. “Gotta make everything perfect for dad, who’s never here. Maybe we can trick him into thinking we’re actually clean since he never stays long enough to actually know what it’s like to live with us.”
Stomps sounded in the room and in an instant Sakura had snatched Sarada’s book out of her hands.
“Hey!”
“Sarada, you will never talk about your father like that again, do you understand me?” Sarada opened her mouth to retort but stopped at the look in her mother’s eyes. Instead, she rolled her eyes and pushed herself out of bed.
“Fine, fine. Whatever. I’ll get to work, all right?”
Sakura nodded her head. “Good. He’ll be here in less than an hour. I’m going to start getting to work on dinner.”
As she left her daughter’s room, she tried to ignore the anxiety that rippled through her as her daughter’s words echoed through her mind, over and over: Gotta make everything perfect for dad, who’s never here.
She shrugged it off and headed into the kitchen. Sasuke would be home soon enough.
The next morning
Sakura awoke to the sun pouring through the windows. She shot up—a reflex from years of ninja training—and let out a gasp as a pain shot through her back.
“Stupid…” she muttered to herself. “That’s what I get for falling asleep at the… table.” In an instant, everything came flooding back to her. She was sitting in a wood chair and had spent all night bent over, her head resting on the kitchen table. She had spent all night, waiting in that stiff wooden chair for Sasuke to come home.
But he had never come.
She looked to the counter, where riceballs and dumplings sat cool and stale from sitting out the long night. Beside her, the phone blinked. A voice message.
She wiped the crust from her sleepless eyes and held the phone to her ear.
“Sakura. Sorry. Something came up. I won’t be home for another few weeks… Two at the latest. I’ll keep you updated.”
The phone cut off to the ringing dial tone.
Sakura sat unmoving, just frozen with the phone against her face. She should have known. It was always like this. Always. In their ten years of marriage, he’d no doubt spent less than a third of that time with his family. Once again, Sarada’s words came back to her: Gotta make everything perfect for dad, who’s never here.
The phone clattered to the table. Sakura buried her face in her hands.
That morning, Sarada awoke to the sound of her mother’s sobs.
