Leaves of Trees: Konoha Stories

Catfood

Sasuke, Sakura, and some cats while on a trip away from Konoha.

Meow.

The quiet cry of the cat that had followed him to this tree caught his attention, causing him to open his eyes. Sasuke reached into his pocket and brought out the catnip he carried with him for occasions like these.

He'd been resting his eyes, tired from his trip, his head leaning against the tree trunk when he'd heard the rustle and the inevitable quiet footfalls that always followed him when he was out in nature, away from Konoha, on one of his redemption trips.

He watched as the cat nibbled on the food he'd thrown onto the grass. When all the food was gone, the black and white cat looked at him and then slowly approached to rub itself against his leg.

"Not another one?" came an amused voice. She'd spoken softly to try not to startle the cat, but it inevitably heard her and scampered away to leave the couple alone.

Sasuke looked up at Sakura and smiled.

She shook her head and then looked at him ruefully. "They just hate me."

"No, they just want to give us privacy."

Sakura blinked and she tried to hide the flush of pleasure she felt by looking down at her hands and at the kindling she'd gathered. "Oh, I'm just going to—" but she broke off with a fluster and stepped away from him. She walked a few paces to the spot she'd decided to build a fire and dropped the branches and twigs she'd just gathered.

She looked up when she heard the startled crows fly off from the sound of her suddenly dropping the kindling on the grass. They were setting up camp for the night in this clearing, this place Sasuke felt was safe enough to lower their guards and fully rest for the night.

"Sakura."

She looked at him.

"Aren't you tired?" He patted the space next to him. "You should rest, too."

She shook her head and smiled at him. "I wanted to set up the tent while there's still light."

"Come rest. I'll do it later." Again, he patted the grass beside his hip.

She didn't need another invitation. She came to him, intending to sit next to him, but her sudden tired yawn made her change her mind. Instead, she smiled at him in question and he nodded in response, shifting on the grass so that she could use his lap for a pillow. Sakura then laid down on her side and rested her head on his thigh. He shook his cloak and laid it on top of her, his fingers brushing against her hair as she sighed her thanks. She was asleep in minutes.

He didn't blame her. She'd taken the last watch last night so he knew she was still tired from her vigil.

In the quiet of the moment, another visitor came.

Meow.

He was already reaching for his pocket, but he smiled at this one, a different one from before. This one was a tiger tabby, eyes looking at him with confidence, somehow knowing Sasuke was decidedly a cat person.

Unlike Sakura, who was indifferent to cats and animals—unless they were giant, mystical slugs.

When the cat had gotten its fill of food, it swished its tail towards Sasuke in a gesture of thanks, and then silently padded away, leaving him looking down at his wife.

He'd switched to feeding these creatures catnip because he couldn't keep sharing with them the food she made for him.

The one time he'd told her of sharing the onigiri she'd made with the cats, her brows had risen with surprise but she'd said nothing about it. And he'd realized too late how she might have taken that to mean that he didn't appreciate the food she made for him.

She didn't say anything, but the time Sasuke had run into Naruto when he'd been back in Konoha, he knew he'd done something bad. Naruto had mentioned that Sakura had stopped by the Uzumaki home to ask Hinata for tips on how to cook better.

In his opinion, Sakura didn't need to do any of that stuff.

But Sasuke still picked up on it, those rare instances when she'd show her vulnerability to him, her lack of confidence when it came to her home-cooked meals, the intense and hopeful way Sakura looked at him while he ate.

"It's really good, Sakura."

And of course, he wasn't lying when he would tell her it was good. Because she was getting better.

She knew about his own mother's cooking. Mikoto Uchiha, from a traditional Japanese family, had known how to cook, of course. But Sakura's own mother hadn't known how to and naturally hadn't taught her daughter how to cook.

But he loved that about Sakura, the way she would always take the reins. If there was something that needed to be done, she would go ahead and do it.

And she'd taken it upon herself to get better at cooking by seeking Hinata's help so that she could prepare the meals he'd eaten during his childhood, those dishes his mother prepared for him in his youth.

Sasuke truly appreciated it.

Still, she didn't need to go through all that trouble—just for him.

Still, it was not his place to say anything about it to Sakura, because this was something she wanted to do, her way to show him how much she loved him, that it was all worth the effort.

He looked down at the sleeping Sakura and again brushed his hand against her cheek. She sighed drowsily in response and murmured his name. "Sasuke."

And he hoped that she could see how much he was trying to be a better husband, at trying to say the truth, to voice his thoughts aloud so she could understand that he loved everything she made for him, loved everything she did for him.