Something hard hits Sarada on the head, filling her with a dizzying confusion. She's only dimly aware that she too is being thrown toward the dark drop of the now rushing waterfall.
Instinct more than awareness forces her to grab outward with her less-injured hand; luck rather than skill result in her catching hold of anything. Frantically, she tries to summon up even the smallest modicum of chakra to keep her grasp on the slippery ledge of the drop.
Nothing.
Her fingers scrabble uselessly against the slick rock, and her body sinks inevitably backward.
A hand snatches out and fastens around Sarada's wrist.
"Sha...na...ro!"
Sakura looms above her, face flushed with exertion, one hand adhering herself to the ledge with her chakra, the other keeps a tight hold of Sarada. The magnetic sensation around her wrist tells Sarada that her mother is using her chakra to keep them connected to each other.
"I've...got...you!" Sakura pants. "Swing yourself up!"
But chakra grip aside, Sarada's palm is slick. It's hard to keep hold with the spray covering them both. She grits her teeth in effort as her much-abused arms burn in protest. She wants to follow the directive, to get enough momentum for Sakura to swing her back to the top of the ledge, but she literally has no strength left.
"I'm slipping!" she cries, and it's as if those words are a curse because her fingers begin to glide from the ring of Sakura's.
"Hold on!" Sakura orders then cranes her neck around, maybe to ask for help. Where are the others?!
"I can't!"
"You have to!" Sakura tries to regain her grip. She leans farther over the ledge to the point where chakra won't hold her up if she keeps at this much longer. "If you don't, you'll..."
Sarada knows whatever is down below will be too much for her. Without strength or chakra, she'll either be swept up in the brutal current of the spillway, or dashed to pieces against the distant terrain.
And if Sakura isn't careful, she'll join her.
That isn't something that can happen, or all of her past and her parent's future will be destroyed.
There's only one thing to do.
Tears gather in her eyes as the very real fear of death hits her for the first time today.
"Let go!" Sarada orders, speaking around the growing lump in her throat.
"What?! No!"
"You'll fall, too, if you don't!"
"No! Keep holding on!" Sakura insists, trying to tighten her grasp. "Someone will be here in a second to help, you just have to—"
Sarada's fingers slide, and she flies backward into the darkness.
Her stomach swoops, and she's hit by the realisation that this is it. She'll never see her parents again or get to say goodbye. It's enough to rip the primal, plaintive shriek from her throat as she heads for the inevitable end.
"MAMA!"
Sarada's scream echoes above the roaring water, but that barely registers. As she falls backward, caught up in the rushing water, she sees Sakura tumble forward as well, eyes wide and hand still reaching out for her.
Sarada is falling backward, falling away—
And then, abruptly, water is bearing down on her from all sides. There's a sense of impact—jarring and sudden and bewildering in its intensity. She's twisted painfully this way and that, shoved against the rocky floor of the falls. Her skin scrapes as the current whips her across slippery stone like a rag-doll, tearing with every rush of the current.
There is nothing but blackness around her, a rush of water assaulting her eyes. She no longer has the strength to call on the Sharingan. There's no way to see any way out of here. More likely, she's doomed to be bashed against the rocks until the final darkness overtakes her.
Sarada tries to hold her breath—a precious lungful she stole as she screamed for her mother— but the effort is futile. Between the agony of her body being hauled by the merciless flow of the underground river and the repeated impacts against rocks on all sides, she has no choice.
Her mouth is open, and she inhales water and blood. Her lungs fill, throat burning, ribs protesting, and oh gods, she will really die this time!
Something clamps around her shoulder—the injured one—and she screams, soundless. White-hot pain flashes across her eyes. Awareness slips away, and she senses unconsciousness looming a final time. There will be no more waking, and this time, she's resigned to it.
Mama. Papa. I'm sorry. I tried...
There's an abrupt shift of her world. Sensation assaults her from all sides, fighting back the beckoning unconsciousness. The world becomes clearer by inches, colder and drier. Something has yanked her out of the maelstrom.
Her body recoils, pulling in on itself as she is tossed onto solid ground. Dizzy and nauseous, Sarada struggles to flip over. Gentle, shaking hands help turn her, holding her steady as she expels liquid through her mouth and nose. She vomits up water and bile, trying simultaneously to draw in precious oxygen. The heaving movements are jarring, and she can't help sobbing in pain, because just how much is she expected to take today?! When she recovers enough that breathing on her own isn't impossible, she stares in search of her mysterious saviour.
Only to find Sakura kneeling beside her.
The girl is a mess of bruises and scratches, pink locks plastered against her face with water and blood. Her breathing is so violent that her shoulders shake with every inhale. In her hand, she clutches a battered glow stick so tightly that her knuckles are white.
"H..." Sarada begins, but winces because talking hurts her raw throat. She swallows with difficulty. "How did you do that?"
Sakura needs a few more moments before she answers. "S-Suichū Ikidzukai," she whispers, teeth chattering. "A-almost didn't w-w-work."
Water-breathing technique.
"Right," Sarada says, closing her eyes as she lays back on the ground. "You're also a water type. I forgot."
"So do I, most days," Sakura confesses, forcing herself to relinquish her death grip on the glow stick. There are bloody half-moon imprints of her nails in her palm from how tightly she held it.
She doesn't elaborate that it was a split-second decision—either try not to drown, or make the hand signs. If she had chosen wrong, they would both be dead right now. She's tries not to dwell on that. Or that, once she had the chakra bubble surrounding her with a temporary supply of air, she had to find Sarada in the darkness. The glow-stick she happened to still have only offered a little light. It was only because the current threw them up against the same submerged rock she even caught hold of her. Even then, there was no guarantee they would ever surface again. Underground streams can run for miles, and it's only by luck that this one empties into an outdoor river. Even luckier than that, she had just enough chakra left to get herself and Sarada out of the plunge pool down at the bottom.
Mumyōi wasn't so lucky.
Her eyesight isn't great, so she didn't witness his end herself, but while she towed Sarada to safety, she caught sight of the creature trapped below. One of his clawed hands was caught somehow under fallen rocks, the other grasping fruitlessly upward as he tried to free himself. Drowning is one of the least pleasant deaths Sakura knows about. She tries to feel remorse, but Mumyōi was a monster. She's glad they don't have to deal with him anymore.
Sakura helps move Sarada into a recovery position on her side and falls into one of her own. All the tension holding her together disappears and, for the first time in what seems like weeks, she allows herself to breathe.
Brilliant moonlight shines overhead, the air fresh and crisp. It's a stark contrast to the stale oxygen in the tunnels. Sakura doesn't know where they are—in relation to Konoha or the entrance to Orochimaru's base—and, at the moment, she doesn't care. All that matters is that they survived and are out of the underground tunnels.
Well...that's almost all that matters.
"...you called me Mama."
It's not the best way to end the brief solace of the moment, but enough of this day has been lost in misunderstandings. She needs the air to be clear, and she needs it to happen now.
Sarada doesn't answer right away, but she must also have grown tired of the subterfuge because she sighs, "Yeah."
"Was that just a reaction to falling to your death, or did you mean..."
"I meant it."
"So, I'm your..."
"Yes."
"I'm a mom," Sakura states quietly, eyes going out of focus as she tries to wrap her head around the information. "I'm your mom."
"Right."
"And Sasuke's your dad."
"We've already covered this."
"Which means—"
"It's not that complicated," Sarada interjects. "Don't think about it too hard, okay? It's already caused way too much—"
"I marry Sasuke," Sakura whispers. "I really..."
Sarada shifts her head to one side, wincing as she squints at Sakura. She's startled to see tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.
"Ehh! Are you upset about that?" she demands, suddenly uncertain. She would've thought Sakura would be thrilled about this, but now she's crying. She did not see that coming and—
"This is so...so... SHANNARO!" Sakura yells in delight, rolling closer to Sarada and grabbing her in a tight, one-armed hug around her ribs.
"Ack! You're choking me!"
"Sorry!" Sakura squeaks, pushing herself back with a penitent look on her face. "Sorry...sweetheart? Honey? What do I call you, anyway?"
"Let's stick with Sarada. It's less weird. I mean, you're like a year older than me right now, so..."
"Okay. Right! Of course!" Sakura declares, her cheeks pink and eyes bright with delight. She sits up and clasps her hands together. "Oh, this is amazing! I don't...I don't know what to think! Or...wait...yes, I do. Why me?" Her gleeful smile disappears with the same abruptness in which it appeared, replaced with unease. "I mean, he can't stand me. Why would he ever..." Before Sarada can answer, Sakura frowns thoughtfully. "Wait. Before, you said strongest kunoichi...and you were talking about me." Her shoulders droop. "That's it. That's the only reason he would ever look at me. So, I have to get strong. I have to—"
"Would you stop it?!" Sarada demands, cutting of Sakura's uncertain self-recriminations. "You're plenty strong, and you shouldn't want to change yourself just to get some jerk's attention!"
"That jerk is your father!"
"No, that jerk is someone my father used to be," Sarada corrects her. "My father is strong and caring and loyal. And he respects his wife and his friends and he doesn't think the world is beneath him. And my mother is a talented shinobi who could break him if he so much as looked at her wrong—not that he ever would. But she did that all on her own, and he wasn't involved in her getting more powerful. So, if you want to get stronger, do it for yourself, not because you want him to like you."
There's a heavy silence following her outburst. Sarada has to inhale deeply a few times to recapture her breath. It's for the best, as Sakura needs time to process.
When she does, she tentatively asks, "Why didn't you say anything before?"
Sarada makes a face. "No offence...but you are kind of silly," she admits, apologetic. "This you, anyway. I thought you'd do something stupid."
"Like what?!"
"Just...something. Though, whatever I imagined is way less foolish than almost blowing yourself up and then throwing yourself off a cliff," she points out. "And I thought Uncle Naruto had the market cornered on crazy stunts..."
"You've done some pretty crazy stuff yourself."
"I come by it honestly," Sarada retorts, but she's smiling. It is as if a giant weight has lifted off her shoulders. As for Sakura...many different emotions flicker across her green eyes. Unlike when Sasuke found out, her face is an open book, one which Sarada can read with ease—embarrassment, fear, elation, curiosity.
"I get my eyes from my father," Sarada tells her tentatively. "Except I need glasses."
"I wear contacts," Sakura confesses.
"Oh."
"Sorry."
"No, it's...huh. You don't wear them in the future. You never told me that," Sarada muses. "I guess that's down to your ability to heal. I asked you once, but you said maybe it was because of... Anyway, I haven't learned how to self-heal yet. And I'm only just learning how to control my strength like you."
"But I'm not strong."
"Not now, maybe. But if you had watched you since you were able to walk, you'd able to crush boulders, too," Sarada assures her, and then frowns "Did that sentence make sense? It did in my head...Anyway, I also inherited your perfect chakra control, so..."
Sakura's eyes mist over again and she sniffs, wiping her nose.
"Why are you crying again?" Sarada demands.
"B-because I'm happy," Sakura tells her. "One day...I will be strong. You said it. I will be more than just a tagalong. I'll be as good as the others. And..." Her watery smile is pure joy now. "I'll get to be with the person I love most in the whole world, and that's... I've just never been so happy!"
Contrary to her words, she bursts into another round of tears.
Sarada can't help but think that, no matter what age, her mother never stops being weird.
Sakura abruptly curls a fist out in front of her, mouth quirking in a grim, determined smile. "I will work hard, so I deserve it—just watch!" she declares. Then she unfurls the fist and points at Sarada. "First things first. We're going to deal with that."
"With what?"
"Let me see your arm," Sakura commands.
Sarada braves a glance to her right, where the burning pain has become a dull, constant throb. The much-abused limb is even more mangled than it was at the beginning of the day. Despite her half-hearted joke about amputation earlier, she wonders if that's not exactly what will have to happen, given the severity of the injury.
"If we're going to keep getting in trouble, we need to fix it."
"Yeah. But I can't do it myself," Sarada sighs. "I'm completely tapped out. I don't even think I could stand right now."
"So, talk me through it." When Sarada protests, Sakura goes on, "You said I'll be amazing in the future, so I can be amazing now, too. If Kakashi could talk me through a summoning, and I could lend you chakra to save him, you can talk me through this."
"You've got to be nearing your limit now, too, though."
"It doesn't matter. You're the stronger kunoichi right now, whatever I am in the future. So, it's more important that you're in your best condition, so you can get us out of here safely. I was serious about what I said before—you're the one who matters."
"Yeah, but if you accidently get yourself killed, I won't exist," Sarada reminds her.
"Then we won't do that," Sakura retorts, as if that's the obvious answer. "Now, tell me what to do!"
Sarada can't help shaking her head in amusement. Once again, she's seeing facets of her own mother, and it's a huge comfort. "Okay."
She starts to slowly sit up, knowing she must at least demonstrate some of what Sakura is asking her to teach her. As she does, Sakura goes red.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Sarada frowns. "Tell me."
"No! Really! I only...realised," Sakura falters, avoiding Sarada's gaze. "It's just... If Sasuke and I have a daughter one day, it means we..."
If Sarada had the energy, she would slap her forehead in exasperation.
"Wow. You have a dirty mind even when you're my age."
"Wh-what? No, it's nothing like that, I..." Sakura falters, eyes shifting from side to side as she tries to come up with a lie.
"Whatever," Sarada rolls her eyes and holds up her arm. "Are we going to try this, or what?"
Sakura nods rapidly and reaches out, placing her fingers lightly above Sarada's shattered fingers and closing her eyes in concentration.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry!"
"It's fine," Sarada assures Sakura with a wince. "Just...a little less chakra, okay? If you don't, you'll end up blowing up the bone, instead of rebuilding it."
Sakura doesn't answer, her eyes intent on the hand in front of her. Sweat trickles down her forehead, and her face is almost the same colour as her hair. Her hands hover several inches above Sarada's shattered arm, spread fingers glowing intermittently with cool, green healing chakra.
Her breathing is harsh, like she's forcing herself to stay calm and keep in control. Sarada grits her teeth, feeling the splintered remnants of her first metacarpal bone pulling back together. It burns in a way she's not used to, as if the chakra pulling it together is made of barbed wire, instead of spider silk.
After almost fifteen minutes of struggling, Sakura falls back on her haunches and exhales loudly. "I can't anymore," she admits guiltily.
"It's okay. Take a rest," Sarada tells her encouragingly. "You did really well." Gingerly lifting her hand, she tries not to feel sick at the colourful, macabre sight of the appendage. Her right thumb is as bruised as the rest of her, but the bone doesn't hurt anymore. "In a few days, it'll be good as new."
"One bone down, twenty-six to go," Sakura sighs, dejected.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You've never done this before. Even Papa or Lord Sixth couldn't manage it."
Sakura tries to smile at that, but her fatigue is palpable. "Lady Tsunade always makes this look so easy. I did one bone, and it feels like I just ran a marathon!"
Sarada knows what she means. Medical ninjutsu is deceptively complex. Even healing a minor hairline fracture is challenging for most elite ninja. There's so much to concentrate on all at once—keeping the blood flowing properly, fighting off outside bacteria, stimulating regeneration of new cells, ensuring the blood-cell count remains at the right level. That's part of the reason it was best to start with one of the larger bones first—the smaller the bone, the more meticulous the healer needs to be. Even Sarada doesn't want to test her luck any more today.
The girls sit for a while, recovering their energy. They're fortunate in that there's no rain tonight, and the air is pleasantly cool instead of frigid. It wouldn't be fun to add hypothermia to their list of things that've gone wrong.
As it is, Sarada doesn't even have the energy to create a fire for them. Sakura ends up kindling a small blaze together to keep the damp away. Both girls huddle together in their underthings; the heavier clothing they wore before is wrung out and laid close enough to the fire to dry.
By mutual agreement, they decide not to try to find the rest of their respective teams just yet. With their injuries and overall poor condition, it's more likely they would meet some other kind of trouble long before reuniting with their friends.
"At least the stars are more visible now," Sakura sighs, looking up. "I can probably figure out how to get back to the entrance of the hideout when we do leave here."
"It might not help," Sarada points out. "We can't be sure which tunnels got caved in while we were there."
"Oh, yeah."
"But it's like Lord Sixth said—there's probably more than one way in there. If they keep looking for a way out, and we find a way in, we'll probably run into them again."
"If they don't think we're dead," Sakura sighs, hugging her knees to her. She's begun to shiver, but there's not much they can do about that besides lean closer to one another.
Sarada has no answer for her. By rights, they should be dead, and a true shinobi would accept that fact straight away to continue the mission. Isn't that what Papa would say? And Lord Sixth, for all his belief in not leaving comrades behind, would understand that the risks of coming after them outweigh the importance of maintaining the timeline. It's what he should do, even if she supposes Boruto and Naruto won't be happy about it. She doesn't know how the young Sasuke will react. If the past day has shown her anything, it's that she doesn't really know her father at all.
They are quiet again, Sakura's eyes roving over Sarada's face. She bites her lip and shifts, like she's trying to get comfortable, but Sarada can see the curiosity in her eyes. She wants to ask questions, but knows she shouldn't.
"You might as well ask," she points out, a little more amused than resigned. "If the world hasn't collapsed by now, I figure you and the rest of your team will forget all about this."
"I don't want to forget!" Sakura protests. "I mean, I did before when I thought—but now, it's different!"
"And you knowing it's different could change everything," Sarada points out. "There's a lot of stuff I don't even know about, things my parents don't talk about, and you knowing your future might change those things. And that might change how it all happens. You really want to risk that?"
"No, I guess not," Sakura laments. She's quiet for a long moment and then side-eyes Sarada. "But I can ask you some stuff, right?"
"I guess..." Sarada hesitates because there are still some things that have to be patently off-limits. "This whole situation is so strange."
"Time-travel, long-lost family, and clone monsters. It sounds like the plot to a Princess Gale movie."
"And I thought the Chūnin Exams were messed up."
"You've taken the Exam?" Sakura inquires, interested. "How'd you do?"
"I made it to the finals. I got knocked through a wall, though, and couldn't continue."
"Shannaro! You're lucky. I didn't make it past the preliminaries. Ino and I knocked each other out."
"Yeah. You guys still fight about that. Both of you insist the other one passed out first."
"It was totally her."
"Obviously."
"What round was it? Did anyone on your team go on to the last match?"
"No...it sort of got cancelled on account of, um, monster attack."
Sakura can't help the surprised laugh. "Yours too, huh? Was it a giant sand beast?"
"Aliens."
"What?"
"It's...complicated."
"I don't think I want to know."
They're silent again.
"I was wondering—"
"So, how long—"
They both start talking and stop at the same time.
"You first," Sakura suggests.
"It's not important," Sarada murmurs, apologetic. "I was just curious. About that mark your Sasuke has. It's the same that Mumyōi had, and the Ghost-Man. Does that mean he's...is he dangerous?" Sakura considers for a long moment, like she isn't sure what she can and cannot say about it. "It's just, where I come from, he has nothing like that. Until today, I didn't even realise something like that existed."
Sakura relaxes in relief. "Someone got rid of it. Thank goodness."
"So, it is bad."
"Let's just say...it doesn't surprise me that I wouldn't talk about it in the future. When Orochimaru did that to him—I've never been so scared in my entire life. I was terrified Sasuke would die."
"Lord Sixth said those marks, they cause insanity. And rage. Don't you worry he'd ever—?"
"No." Iron enters Sakura's tone, the most certainty she's displayed all day. "You saw it yourself—he was fighting to protect us. That's why he used the curse seal. We're his team, and we stick together!"
"Oh. Okay." Sarada isn't privy to all the details, but she knows for a fact that one day—possibly soon—that won't be true.
Again, there is silence between them. It's broken by Sakura, who hesitantly asks, "Are we...happy?"
Of all the questions she expected that wasn't one of them. Sarada shifts painfully around to meet her mother's gaze head on and is met with an expression of vulnerability and insecurity.
It's a difficult question to answer, and one that Sarada has spent most of her life puzzling over. She knows her parents' relationship isn't typical. Her father's long absence aside, she suspects that, even if he'd been completely present her whole life, he and her mother wouldn't be considered a normal couple. To an outsider looking in, her parents don't present a picture of perfect marital bliss. Behind closed doors, however...
Rather than tell Sakura her life's story, Sarada simply smiles. "Yeah. I think you are."
"Really? Because you said before that we're both going to be great shinobi, and he respects me, and we're connected and... Well, you never... I mean, that doesn't mean he...that we..." Sakura scowls at herself, annoyed that her words aren't coming out how she wants them to. "It's just, I know how important it is to him—restoring the Uchiha clan. I don't want to just be a— Not that it's a bad thing. I'd do anything to make him happy. But am I..."
She can't seem to say the words, and Sarada takes pity on her. "Are you going to be happy, too?"
Sakura bites her lip again and nods, looking away. It's not hard to extrapolate what she's really asking because there's only ever been one thing that could make her truly happy.
"You want to know if he really loves you," Sarada realises.
Sakura blushes and doesn't meet her gaze.
Sarada considers how to answer this. The short answer is, of course, yes. But the Sasuke of this time is such a distant figure that she understands why Sakura is so uneasy—or why she might not believe the truth.
I'd really like to meet whoever made Papa so emotionally messed up, so I can set them on fire.
"There's this look you two get," Sarada says out loud, visualising it even as she speaks. "You might be right in the middle of a conversation, or doing laundry, or just walking past each other in the house—and it's like the whole world disappears and you're just...existing together."
Sakura is holding her breath, staring with wide eyes.
Sarada shrugs with her good shoulder. "I'm not sure how else to describe it. But it's way more awkward to walk in on you doing that than walking in on you...doing other things."
Sakura squeaks in embarrassment and, possibly, delight.
"Anyway, Uncle Naruto complains about it all the time, too. He says you've been doing that since you guys were genin. I haven't seen it happen in this time—because, like I said, your Sasuke's a big jerk—" Sarada grins at the mock glare Sakura sends her, "but Uncle Naruto doesn't lie."
Sakura hugs her arms to herself, looking supremely pleased. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
A pause. "Are there others? I mean, do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"No. It's just me."
"Oh."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No. You have Something-Face."
"It's just...I always imagined I'd have at least two," Sakura admits. "A boy and a girl. Maybe more, but I always wanted two."
Sarada digests this. "You never said anything like that."
"Oh, I don't mean that. I'm sure we're totally happy just having you because you're seriously amazing. It's only—"
"No, it's not that. I just never thought about it before—that you guys would've wanted more." Sarada ponders the situation. If her father hadn't left on his mission, is it possible she would've had a brother or sister? Growing up, it's something she always wanted, but never mentioned, because she suspected it would make her mother sad. "But there are so few Uchiha," she says finally. "I would've thought he'd want more, too, if only to..." An idea occurs to Sarada. "Is what he said before true?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did his brother really..."
Sakura's face goes pale in the firelight, and she looks away. "No one really knows exactly what happened that night," she whispers uncertainly, like they shouldn't be talking about this. "Only Sasuke knows for sure, and no one's ever asked him. Or...well, if they have, he probably didn't answer them. All anyone's ever said is that, one night, the Uchiha were all dead. And Sasuke was the only one left." She shifts uncomfortably. "And he really hates his brother. I have no idea if it's because—well, if it's the truth or not—but when it comes to him, Sasuke just...stops thinking. And last time, it nearly got him killed."
"What do you mean?"
Sakura hesitates. "I'm not sure if I should..."
"Tell me."
"Itachi put him under a genjutsu," Sakura explains. "He used some kind of evolved Sharingan technique to do it—maybe the one you mentioned before. Sasuke was in a coma for weeks. If Naruto and Master Jiraiya hadn't been around, or if they hadn't brought back Lady Tsunade..." She swallows heavily, not wanting to entertain the possible outcome.
Sarada can't help being utterly confused at this. If what Sakura says is true, why is it on the rare occasions where her father speaks of Itachi, he does so with a kind of reverence?
"That doesn't make sense. Why would he do that to his own brother? Why would he do that to his own clan?"
"I-I don't know."
"Well, there's got to be a reason," Sarada protests, getting upset. "You don't do something like that to people you care about! There has to be something else going on."
"I wish I could tell you, but I really have no idea," Sakura tells her apologetically. "And if—well, if he didn't tell you about it, I'm sure he had a reason."
Sarada scowls. There's always a reason with her father, and usually, it's an official reason. It's the only time he's ever distant toward her or her mother. No one can be as tight-lipped as an Uchiha.
Apparently, that's a genetic quirk I didn't inherit.
"I guess," she sighs. "Probably related to some kind of secret mission." She groans. "He will be so disappointed with me when I get home. I put my team in danger, blabbed confidential information, got separated from my squad—"
"None of that was your fault, though. It's not like he's ever had to deal with spontaneously teleporting ninjas, or time-travel bubbles," Sakura points out. Confusion passes over her features. "Although...I guess, technically, now, he has."
"You're not helping."
"Sorry."
"I wish someone could ...clear up all of this so it made sense!" Sarada complains.
"That is something I would appreciate, as well," a quiet voice says from several feet away.
Both girls whip around, instinctively moving into defensive positions at the sudden appearance of another person near their campfire.
It's yet another failing on Sarada's part, not even noticing that they were being watched, let alone approached. However, when she sets eyes on their uninvited guest, her gut tells her that even if she had been in peak condition, she would have difficulty sensing this man.
Red eyes stare down at them, distantly appraising. In the moonlight, it's easy to make out the rest of his features, and shock overtakes her because this man might as well be her father.
Except his hair is much longer and, to her knowledge, her father has never worn nail polish.
つづく
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