moonchild

Mikoto blinks before letting out a soft laugh. “Yes, Sasuke-chan. I could see that,” she says. “She’s very pretty.”

The girl, who in all fairness doesn’t seem to be weirded out by the way her son is acting, is indeed pink. She has the most peculiar shade of pink for her hair, an adorable red ribbon tied into a bow on top of her head, looks as cute as a fairy with her big doe eyes, and is everything Mikoto has dreamt of for a little baby girl.  

Mikoto opens her mouth to ask for her name and where Sasuke found her, and does her parents know that Sasuke dragged their daughter to their home when her husband walks into view.

“Father, look,” Sasuke says to him when he sees him, much more subdued than when he first came in. He gestures to Sakura once again. “She’s pink.”

The girl, bless her, bows to both Mikoto and Fugaku at a perfect ninety-degree angle, obviously raised and taught well by her parents.

Fugaku looks at his wife and, when Mikoto only gives him a bemused smile, just nods at his son.

Sasuke, seemingly having accomplished what he came to do, gives his parents a firm nod before clasping the girl’s hand once again and proceeding to drag her back out.

Fugaku turns to his wife again, who only shrugs and says, “I guess he likes her.”

Mikoto could understand the enthusiasm. After all, little Sasuke has only been surrounded by dark or neutral colored Uchiha, with only the red of the uchiwa fan as a splash of color. Seeing the pink-haired girl probably fascinated him and, judging by the starry-eyed way her son looked at her, must have found her pretty.

“Aren’t you curious who that child is?” Fugaku asks as he thanks her for the tea she hands him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mikoto assures him and points to her eyes. “I have a feeling Sasuke-chan will be back with her in tow again soon. We can start figuring things out by then.”

Outside, Itachi and Shisui catch the two children just as they were walking up the path to the main house. Sasuke almost doesn’t see them if Itachi didn’t call his attention.

“Hello, Sasuke,” he calls, slightly in disbelief that his brother didn’t immediately come running up to greet him. 

“Hello, nii-chan,” Sasuke replies, but otherwise doesn’t say anything and would’ve kept walking if Shisui didn’t speak.

“Whatcha got there, Sasu-chan?” Shisui is the one to ask, as Itachi looks on in a mix of shock and growing confusion.

“Sak’ra,” Sasuke replies. “She’s pink.”

Itachi and Shisui both look to the girl beside Sasuke, the one called ‘Sak’ra’, but whom they deduce is actually called ‘Sakura’, judging by her coloring. She bows to them politely and mutters a quiet ‘hello’. Sasuke looks like he has an iron grip on her hand.

“Oh yeah,” they both say as they stare at her pink hair. “Hello, Sakura-chan.”

Sasuke gives them a firm nod to end their brief introduction and tugs at Sakura to leave.

“Oh?” An elderly Uchiha woman just happens to pass by. Itachi and Shisui bow to her in greeting as she turns to the younger ones. “Is that Sasuke-chan?”

“Neko-baba, look,” Sasuke pulls Sakura closer to the elder with him. “She’s pink.”

“Oh? That she is.” The old woman agrees indulgently, thoroughly amused, and smiling as Sakura bowed to her in greeting. “And her eyes are the loveliest shade of green I’ve ever seen.”

At this Sasuke does a double take, looks into Sakura’s face, and sucks in a breath before turning to Itachi and Shisui all wide-eyed shocked, and exclaims, “Green!”

Green! Like his favorite stuffed dinosaur!

“Uh-huh,” Shisui drawls as he nods amused. “We see it too, buddy.”

Sasuke then proceeds to dras Sakura back into the house. He’s running a little, Sakura right on his heels, giggling and not at all minding being dragged back and forth. 

Mikoto is still in the kitchen with Fugaku, sitting at the table and having tea, when Sasuke barges in again. She shoots her husband a knowing look before she looks at her son, who’s still clasping the girl's hand and suspects he has not let go of her once, except when he presented her to his mother like the eighth world-wonder.

“Mother!” he exclaims, and then, noticing Fugaku, in a more subdued tone. “...And Father.”

"Oh, Sasuke-chan? Back so soon?”

"Look." He points at Sakura, still wide-eyed and awed. "She's pink and green."

"I see," Mikoto says, trying to stifle her laughter. "And does your colorful friend have a name?"

“Hello, pardon the intrusion. My name is Haruno Sakura,” the girl introduces herself just as Sasuke opens his mouth. “Sasuke-kun and I play at the playground. Nice to meet you, Uchiha-sa…” she trails off, eyes wandering around the house and seemingly suddenly understanding who’s house she’s in, “ma…and Uchiha-sama,” she finishes, turning to bow to Fugaku as well.

“Haruno from the merchant family? The one who owns the general merchandising store?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sakura-chan! Why don’t you and Sasuke-chan sit at the table? I’ll fix you some snacks and call your parents to let them know you’re here, okay?”

“Thank you. Do you need me to tell you our phone number?”

“No need, dear. I’ll just call your store, yes? Will your parents be there?”

Sakura nods after Sasuke has helped her onto a chair. “Mama should be there.” Then she turns to Sasuke, who’s pushing her chair close to the table. “Thank you, Sasuke-kun!”

“Hn,” Sasuke answers, ears turning red as he clambers up onto the seat across from her.

Mikoto puts down their snack—anko-filled taiyaki for Sakura and tomato sandwiches for Sasuke—and marvels at how, for the first time, Sasuke doesn’t touch his tomato sandwich and just keeps on staring at Sakura. She shares a look with her husband over the children’s heads and quietly laughs at his expression of bemusement.

Itachi and Shisui, who finally come up into the house in time to witness the exchange, watch their youngest in amusement.

"He learns about colors and falls in love, huh,” Shisui comments as Itachi nods in wonder.

-- o --

The following week, Sasuke brings Sakura and a yellow-blue-orange kid.

“Naruto,” is all Sasuke says before he drags both of them out into the backyard.

“I didn’t know they came in yellow,” Fugaku comments as he looks at the children playing in his backyard from the kitchen window, a cup of steaming tea in hand and the newspaper tucked under his arm. 

Mikoto lets out a huff of laughter against the lip of her teacup.

Itachi and Shisui, halfway through a light snack of onigiri, share a look.

“Father?”

“The Uzumaki,” Fugaku says as if that clarifies anything. Then he turns to Mikoto. “They used to just come in red, no?”

Mikoto lets out the laugh she’s been stifling. It peters out into giggles as Fugaku passes her and plants a quick peck on top of her head. 

Itachi and Shisui share a look once again, one of disbelief, before quickly finishing their meal and cleaning up after themselves, fully weirded out by the turn of events.

“Is…is your father funny?? Or does aunty just have bad taste in humor??”

“I don’t know,” Shoko shrugs. “It’s just one of those mundane things that makes me feel human, you know?” That is all the explanation she is planning to give, but she elaborates at the slight downturn of Satoru’s lips in confusion, and just before he could open his mouth to no doubt try to annoy a longer answer out of her, or worse, debate her on it. “It’s like the way RCT works, right? The way it heals is not exactly what you would consider a normal or orthodox way of recovering. It’s not how humans naturally heal, unlike modern science and medicine. I understand the need to heal fast in our world; it’s almost always life or death after all, but I’d like my eyebags to go away naturally.” 

“Why?”

“It’s not something life-threatening and therefore worth using my cursed technique over. It’s just there. Plus, with the hours I work, it’ll just be a waste of time.” Shoko shoves the last of her sandwich in her mouth and downs the rest of the ramune Satoru bought for her to wash it down. “Besides, don’t you think it’ll be a good sign when they finally go away?” 

Satoru huffs out a laugh at her cheeky grin. He thinks about what she said and concludes that it makes sense. In a way. 

“I see your point. I guess.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ever have moments when you just want to be normal?”

“Normal is relative,” Satoru scoffs and waves a vague hand. “Isn’t this our normal?”

“For the sake of this conversation not falling dead flat on its face, humor me.”

Satoru seems to really think about it and supposes he is being rather cynical about the whole ‘being normal’ take if he’s being honest. Of course, he’s thought about being normal and more…human now and again, even ordinary, sure. He has always had a curious mind, and Satoru has pondered the what-ifs of not being all knowing, all seeing, or all powerful. 

But being all three of those is all he’s known, and Satoru isn’t exactly sure how he would fare being ‘normal’ or ‘ordinary’. Or if he’d even like it. She tells her this much.

“Knowing you? Oh, you’d absolutely hate it.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure. Positively loathe it. You’d be scratching at the walls trying to find a way to stand above the rest.”

“Sure.” He shrugs, trying for casual. “You’re probably right, but I guess it might be nice to not have to put out fires every second of every damned day and just be, to use your term, ‘normal’,” he says as he puts up air quotations with his fingers. Then he grins and lightly bumps her shoulder. “But that’s why I hang around you.”

“Oh? What are you trying to say?” Shoko smiles at him, calm, serene, and oh-so-threatening. “And I advise you to be very careful with your next words. I do handle all matters regarding your health, just saying.”

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it, doc. Chill out.” Satoru laughs, fixing the Ray-Bans he decided to wear today, when Shoko pulled them down his nose. “Unlike you, I can’t turn off my technique. I can’t just not use the Six-Eyes or take down Limitless.” Because every time he does, tragedy and mayhem always happen. “And I don’t have anything I can just let be like your eyebags because I have to have my RCT always running in the background so my brain doesn’t get fried.”

“Any more than it already is, yeah.”

“Shut up.” Satoru pouts and teasingly tugs at the ends of her hair. “Anyway, with all that on top of being the next clan head, I’m pretty much handed everything I want on a silver platter since birth and—”

“We get it. You’re rich and a very, very special boy.  A gift to mankind, a god amongst men, a—”

“Shut uuppp! I’m trying to make a point here!” Satoru whines as Shoko snickers. “Anyway, as I was saying, before you just had to point out the obvious, things just happen for me. Sometimes, before I even ask for them, or even when I don’t need them. Inevitably, I grew up to be a spoiled, rotten brat.” He scowls when he sees her opening her mouth for another quip. “As you never fail to remind me, even now.”

“The biggest brat the jujutsu world has ever seen. Perhaps even the universe. I guess you’re kinda alright now, but, man.” Shoko shakes her head as she remembers their teenage years and how apparently insufferable Satoru was then. “High school you. Every time you opened your mouth, it took everything from Suguru and me not to punt you out the window. Or smother you in your sleep. Limitless be damned. Truly a herculean effort. The patience we exerted on you? Saintly. Even Yaga held back from really maiming you every time you open your mouth.” She pauses and looks up from the papers in her hands, squinting her eyes as if realizing something. “Maybe Geto was on to something, building a cult around him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it already. Damn.” Satoru rolls his eyes under his sunglasses, but makes no effort to refute Shoko’s words. There’s no use since she only speaks the truth after all. Teenage him was a real arrogant, spoiled brat. He still is, but he’d like to think he’s toned it down to a lesser degree, what with Shoko always humbling him and only very, very rarely letting him get away with anything. “But you see what I mean now, right? I mean, you basically just proved my point.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“You make me feel…normal. Ordinary. You don’t see me as the Six-Eyes or Limitless. Hell, I don’t think you ever did, you muggle .” Satoru uses an old taunt he used to call her and Geto for their lack of knowledge of jujutsu society and class standing. “And that was…nice, you know? You never looked at me and decided how you’ll treat me based on merits or what I can do for you, or the favors or status you’ll gain from being associated with me.” 

Not that Shoko ever had any designs of the sort other than occasionally making him pay for her bar tab—a small price to pay for everything she does for him. Satoru honestly wishes she’d ask for more. 

“You’re still in denial about how much of a dork you were then, huh?” 

“Hey! Don’t try to pretend you didn’t also cry at the end of Digimon Tamers when we were watching the reruns.”

“I never said Digimon was dorky. I said you were dorky,” Shoko easily counters. “And I didn’t wanna be caught dead with dorks like you, loser. You were gonna ruin my street cred.”

There is a pause before they both dissolve into giggles. But Shoko is right. She really was the coolest girl Satoru had ever met. Still is. 

“You know, I’ve never heard anyone oppose or turn me down until I went to Jujutsu Tech? And I mean, let's be honest, even Suguru spoiled me sometimes. Okay, a lot of times. But you—” Satoru cuts off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. He pushes his sunglasses up to his head and turns to her with a smile and his clear blue eyes full of mirth. “You know the first time I heard the word ‘no’ said to me was from you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Remember in first year when I asked to copy your biology homework and you said ‘no’?” 

“Yeah, that’s because I haven’t done it then either.”

“I know, but that’s not the point. You could’ve said you’ll let me copy it after you’re done, or offered to do mine.”

“Hah!” Shoko lets out a cackle and slaps the papers she’s holding on her thigh. “Fat chance I’d let you copy mine, and an even fatter chance I’d offer to do any of your homework for you.”

“Exactly. You don’t see me as Gojo Satoru, clan head and the first wielder of Six-Eyes and Limitless in the last three centuries, the Strongest sorcerer of our time,” Satoru says the titles bestowed upon him, which usually always come right after his name in an almost monotonous tone. “You make me work for things. You don’t see me as a god or a king or the strongest. With you,” he shrugs and pokes a finger to her cheek, “I could just be Satoru.” 

“Tch. You’re not a god or a king. You’re just, and still are, a spoiled brat.” Shoko turns and attempts to bite at his finger just as Satoru laughingly retracts it. “Shitty, spoiled Satoru. SSS. You should have that on a shirt or engraved on something.”

“I love it when you’re mean to me.”

“Masochist.” 

“Only for you~”

Satoru leans his weight on her as he singsongs and chuckles when Shoko lets him for a moment before shoving him off her.

“I don’t always make you work for things, you know?”

“Oh?”

“Uh-huh. For example, I’ve never made it hard for you to take a pretty girl out for a meal—” Satoru lets out a cackling laugh at this. “—and enjoy her company.”

“Is the pretty girl here with us right now?”

“I am,” Shoko counters smoothly. “I even choose where we go so your pretty little head doesn’t have to think about it.”

“How very generous.”

“You’re very welcome. Just a small payment for my ‘making you feel normal’ services.” Shoko smirks at him, cool as ever. Satoru barely held himself back from letting out a dreamy sigh. She gathers her things as she stands to leave. “Pick me up at six?”

“Six? Isn’t that too early? Your shift ends at nine, right?”

“Talked Okkotsu-kun into covering the rest of my shift so we could go to that bakery with the parfaits you like so much before it closes.”

Damn. Satoru really likes it when a woman has initiative and takes charge. Considerate too.

“Careful, Shoko. You’re spoiling me.”

“Sometimes you deserve it.” Shoko leans down to plant a kiss on his forehead, sweet and entirely indulgent, before turning to walk back to the Infirmary with a backhand wave. “See you at six.”