I believe we have a soul 🕯️

They've been out in the summer sun for hours, the distant muffle of their voices floating in through the open kitchen window to reach your ears as you finish plating a snack for the two of them. A fond smile tugs at your lips as you hear it. One that only grows at the sight you're greeted with when you finally step outside to join them. Standing on the steps, you pause to observe the endearing scene that's unfolding before you from afar.

Sasuke is sitting quietly in the middle of the grass, with his legs crossed and his eyes fixed lovingly on your toddler as she flutters around him, the perfect picture of patience. Her toy shuriken are strewn around the yard, clearly long forgotten as she gathers up sections of your husband's hair instead, her tiny fingers combing through the very same blue-black strands she inherited from him with a determined pout set on her lips. She is every bit her father's daughter, his spitting image as she concentrates, placing butterfly clips wherever she sees fit while Sasuke keeps still for her.

"What are the two of you up to now, hm?" you question curiously, drawing both of their attention as you pad over, lowering to your haunches, "Getting hungry yet?"

"We were training and Daddy fixed my ponytail for me," your daughter smirks proudly before plucking a few cherry tomatoes from the plate and gleefully shoving them into her mouth, patting Sasuke's head with her other hand, "So now I'm making him beautiful too!"

She emphasizes the words by giving a small shake of her head, showing off your husband's neat work with a flourish of her long hair behind her back as she hums happily. It will be a few years yet before she can enroll in the academy, though she's keen as ever even now to be just as accomplished as Sasuke. Which means insistently asking him to 'train' with her whenever she gets the chance, even if her attention often ends up elsewhere. If there's anyone your little girl admires most, it's her dad. A fact she never tires of making known to anyone who is willing to listen.

"How does he look, Mama?" she asks with a tug at your sleeve and a hand on her hip.

Sasuke's eyes flicker from your daughter to you at her expectant question, and he can see the amusement in the soft curve of your mouth. His face warms in mild embarrassment at the state of his appearance, waiting for you to laugh or make a teasing remark. But you simply pop a tomato past his lips with an affectionate grin, meeting his gaze with tenderness. You notice it then, the hint of vulnerability colouring his features, in the slight crease of his brow and the almost sheepish way that he looks at you. Searching your face, wordlessly asking if he's doing any of this right — if he's a good father.

"I think you're doing a wonderful job," you affirm gently, words meant for both of them but eyes never leaving your husband's, "Your daddy is very pretty, isn't he?" you muse, nudging at your daughter.

Your veiled reassurance isn't lost on Sasuke, and he softens as he feels your hand come to rest on his thigh, the comforting touch grounding him. It's one of the things he's appreciated most in all of your years together. Unable to hide behind the cover of his bangs with them clipped back from his face, he glances away briefly as a faint blush tinges his cheeks. While your little girl lights up, rather pleased with your assessment.

"The prettiest!" she declares, planting a big, wet kiss to his cheek before throwing her small arms around his neck and nuzzling into him with more giggles, "I love you, Daddy."