𝒦𝑜𝓃𝑜𝒽𝒶 𝐻𝒾𝑔𝒽

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓶𝓾𝓶

⸻⸻⋅☾ 🥫 ☽⋅⸻⸻

After I changed out of my soaked clothes, I hopped in the shower, then threw on some sweatpants and a tank top, tying my hair up with a claw clip.

While I was wiping up the water by the front door, Mum called during one of her breaks to check if I was okay. I reassured her, telling her that Boruto had given me a ride.

I made myself a cup of warm tea before starting on dinner. Mum was always exhausted after her shifts, so I usually handled dinner for both of us—not that I minded. I've always found cooking kind of relaxing. Still, I couldn't help wishing Mum was around more. I guess I was always afraid she might disappear like Dad did...

As I was about to start dinner, my phone rang—it was Mum.

"Mum?"

"Sarada!" She sounded unusually excited. "Would you mind making tomato soup for dinner?"

 I hate tomatoes.

Before she could say anything else, I cut her off. "Is Dad coming over?"

Tomatoes were his favorite

Mum hesitated before replying. "I was going to keep it a secret, but yes, he's coming over for around two weeks!"

For a moment, it felt like time stopped. I froze, my mind racing, but after a few seconds, I managed to pull myself together.

I couldn't help but wonder—why was she so excited? Were her standards really this low? This isn't even the bare minimum.

"Is that something to celebrate?" I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

Mum paused for a moment, her voice uncertain when she finally replied. "I thought you'd be happy..."

"Happy?" I repeated, disbelief creeping into my tone. "Mum, he's hardly ever around. You've been saying for years that he'll show up, but—"

"I know, I know," she cut in, her voice softer now. "But... maybe this time will be different."

"Right," I said, sarcasm seeping through my words. "Because making tomato soup is really the key to fixing everything."

There was a long pause before Mum sighed. "I just want things to be normal again, Sarada."

"Normal?" I said, the words bitter in my mouth. "I don't think we ever were."

She went quiet, and I could hear the soft sound of her breathing on the other end.

"Please, just try," she said, her voice cracking. "Your father is—"

"I've been trying for years, Mum," I cut in, frustration building. "You deserve better. We both do."

Another heavy silence stretched out between us before Mum spoke again, her voice barely audible. "I know, and you didn't deserve to grow up like that... but please, honey, try to understand."

I felt the weight of her words, but my own frustration flared. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. "I'll make the soup, Mum. But you can't keep pretending this is enough."

I could almost feel it on the other end of the line—she wanted to say more, but instead, she took a deep breath and gathered herself.

"Thank you, sweetheart... it will be different this time."

Will it? The question lingered in my mind, doubt settling in.

I didn't say another word—I just hung up.

I took a shaky breath and turned back around to the fridge

He hate natto, So why not make that as a side dish?

Honestly, I just wanted to piss him off