"..."
An awkward silence set over the Uchiha kitchen, where Sakura and the elderly boys were gathered in front of Fugaku.
"Should I ask?"
"No, sir."
Sakura just grinned behind her hand, amused at the embarrassed boys. They were awkwardly shuffling and looking down at their feet. Smelling the smell of salt, she suddenly remembered the soup, and ran into the kitchen while Fugaku was still in mid- sentence.
"Itachi, you should really have-" He stopped talking as the little girl ran under his legs to the kitchen. Surprised that she interrupted him (no one ever did that), he turned to look where she had disappeared to.
Turning back to the boys with a glare, he quickly told them to stay there and briskly walked over to the girl in the kitchen, who was stirring a large pot of something that smelled so good. Fugaku tiptoed over to where Sakura was standing on a stool with, and looked into the pot over her.
Chicken soup? That moment, Mikoto decided to walk in, apparently smelling the soup.
"Ah, Sakura! That smells amazing!"
Proud, Sakura whirled around to say hello when she crashed into Fugaku. "Ah!"
He quickly grabbed her arm before she fell into the soup and pulled her off the stool. "Why did you make this soup in my kitchen?" he demanded. Sakura meekly looked up at him with doleful green eyes. Mikoto saw what was going on and quickly walked over to her husband.
"Fugaku! Sasuke is sick, and she is making soup to make him feel better! Be respectful," she scolded, and soon even the almighty Fugaku felt like a little bunny in front of a lion. Huffing, Mikoto turned to help Sakura scoop the soup into bowls and give one to each boy (and dad), and she told Sakura to bring one up to Sasuke.
Quickly obliging, Sakura grabbed the tray Mikoto had set out and scampered up the stairs, careful not to spill the various liquids she had been given. Downstairs, three boys and a set of parents looked to where the little girl had disappeared.
"Why are they not together already?"
"Itachi!"
"But seriously..."
"Shisui!"
"I'm pretty sure Sakura has a crush on me, although her and Sasuke act like a married couple already."
"Sai! They are six and seven years old!"
"Mikoto, when this girl becomes Sasuke's betrothed and I am no longer here, whatever the case, tell them both they have my full approval. Anyone who cooks a whole pot of soup for my boy deserves him, and vice versa."
"Fugaku! They're not even thirteen yet!"
"Mikoto-san, are you denying the fact that they would make beautiful babies?"
"Auntie?"
"Mom?"
"Honey?"
Sigh. "Not at all."
Four smirks.
"But they're still too young!!"
Rolling her eyes at the various sounds downstairs, Sakura knocked on the door with a balanced tray in one hand. "Sasuke! I brought soup!" A groggy moan came from the bedroom, which Sakura took as a yes. She opened the door to let herself in, and was greeted by no sound. She peered in.
"Sasuke?"
Slowly, a mass of blankets started to quiver, and out popped a boy. "Sak'ra?" His cheeks were stained red and his eyes were dull and sleepy. "Momma?"
Sakura laughed quietly. What good blackmail. "No, Sasuke. I'm not your mommy. I'm Sakura."
"Momma?" Shaking her head, Sakura sat next to his bed and grabbed a spoon.
"No. But I'm going to feed you. Open your mouth," she instructed. He did as she told, still foggy with sleep and they sat there, in the golden sunlight of the afternoon.
"Momma?"
Sakura smiled and gently hugged Sasuke. "No, stupid kid. I'm your best friend."
"Friend?"
She giggled, a hooked his pinky with hers, and held it up together so he could see. "You're so sick you probably won't remember what I say. Maybe you'll forget me one day. But I promise you-"
"Promise?" He was half asleep, but Sakura couldn't help but hope that maybe somewhere the real Sasuke was listening.
"Yeah," she whispered, burrowing her head further into his neck. "I promise."
