Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

A/N: Hopefully this chapter will clear up some questions. It is the last installment to this series. Special thanks to bluefurcape for being my first ever BETA reader and helping me clear some things up.

Summary: It is Sarada who holds them all together.

-O-

Sarada's earliest memory of Kakashi is from when she was four years old. She remembers a dark night, thunder booming through the windows of the modest home, and feeling terrified. She had had a nightmare, had felt like the world was ending and taking her with it, and she had awoken to the world crashing outside her window. She remembers that it had been her first week in her new room alone, and panic had filled her heart with childish fear of the dark.

And then Kakashi was there, scooping her up into his arms and whispering comforting things into her ear. He was like a beacon in the darkness, like an angel sent to abate her fears. His low voice was soothing to her ears, and when she had calmed, he had taken her to stand in front of the window while he walked out onto his bedroom balcony. Sarada remembers the wild beating of her heart, strong in its fear, and being reluctant to go anywhere near; but Kakashi had shown her how he could control lightning, how he could bend it to his will like one of the heroes in the stories her Mama told her.

Sarada remembers the chirping of birds, and watching in awe as he released it into the sky to light up the world. She remembers his smile as he looked down at her, a beautiful thing—a loving thing—and how she had forgotten all of her fear in the face of it. After, he had taken her to his own bed, had tucked her in with promises to keep the lightning far away, and had sat by her side stroking her hair until her eyes felt heavy.

Her mother's scent lingered on the sheets, and Sarada had burrowed into them, falling asleep with the thought that though her mother was away, Kakashi would always be there for her.

-O-

Sarada knows she is an Uchiha, she knows because strangers on the streets always remind her. And though her mother has never kept her lineage away from her, has answered all questions she might have about her heritage, Sakura is not an Uchiha.

But her father was, and she knows that he could answer every question she could ever have.

She walks through the door to her modest home one day at 11 years old, runs a hand over old Pakkun's head, and finds her mother drinking tea alone at the dinner table. Sarada drops her blue backpack—the blue of the Uchiha, the blue she heard her father wore at the Academy—and fiddles with an errant thread coming from her shirt.

"Mama?" Her voice comes softly, her nervousness threatening to make its appearance before her.

Her mother slowly lifts stunning eyes the color of clear waters to land on her face, the child that looks more like a long dead clan than herself, and Sarada feels her courage waver. She had always been curious, always thirsty for knowledge, but she has never asked questions she knew could hurt.

"Yes, Sarada?" Her mother's voice sounds like the syrup that coats her favorite treats, like strawberries freshly picked and sugared.

"Why isn't my dad here?" Sarada's voice cracks in the beginning, but she gathers her courage like the pieces of a puzzle and looks her mother in the eye.

Her mother who looks as though her heart has been pierced by a kunai, who looks like the floor has disappeared beneath her feet, and Sarada wishes that she could snatch her words from the air and swallow them whole.

She watches her mother (her beautiful, strong, happy mother) push her tea away and slump in her seat. Her folded hands rest in her lap, her eyes taking in her daughter's blue backpack, blue high collared shirt, blue everything and the smile that appears on her face is equal parts nostalgic and sad. She doesn't hold Sarada's curiosity against her, she has every right to know about her father, but it doesn't make the weight on her shoulders any less heavy. Sarada shifts uncomfortably in her seat, unused to the sad way her mother looks at her, and Sakura sighs.

"Oh Sarada, I knew this day would come," her mother begins wistfully, "but I really can't tell you why your father isn't here."

Sarada feels anger towards her mother for the first time in her life that day, her fine brows drawing together behind her glasses, and grits her teeth as her hands clench into fists on the table.

"Why? Why can't you tell me?!" She demands, angry tears brimming her eyes, "Is it because I'm young? I deserve to know!"

Her mother reaches over and tries to grasp her hands, but Sarada angrily pulls them out of her reach, and tries to suppress the guilt she feels at the hurt expression that crosses her mother's face. She swipes angrily at the traitorous tear that has made its way down her cheeks and stares at her mother imploringly.

"I can't tell you Sarada—" she opens her mouth to refute her, but her mother holds up a finger in that way that will always make her feel like a child, "I can't tell you because—because I don't know why he's not here, darling."

Her mother's voice is the sound of a tree branch breaking in the wind, but Sarada's heart is the fallen tree.

She stares at her mother, stunned at the answer she didn't know she didn't want until she had it, but still feels angry. Angry because it can't be true, her mother knows everything, her mother has given her the right answers to everything—everything except the answer Sarada wants.

Where do babies come from, mama?

Well, Sarada, when a man and a woman...

Mama, how do they make crayons?

Well, love, they take colored wax and...

Why is a kunai shaped like that?

Well, sweetheart, the functionality...

Mama, why did my father leave me?

I don't know, Sarada.

Denial and disbelief makes her shake her head, makes her push from the table angrily and shout that her mother is wrong. It makes her run to the front door, makes her bump into Kakashi on the way out, and it makes her push him away when he tries to stop her because he is not who she wants.

Guilt makes her stay away.

Kakashi is the one who finds her curled up by the same posts he had trained his old team by when they were Genin; she knows because her mother told stories about them. He wordlessly sits by her side, pulls out a book (not the dirty ones he likes because her mother hid them) and begins to read. They sit there for a few moments until Sarada's mumble cuts through the silence.

"Is she mad at me?"

She startles when Kakashi loudly shuts his book, looking over to see him gracing her with that smile she has always known, and she feels less worried.

"No, Sara-chan, Sakura's not mad at you. She just wants you to come home," he says. She feels relief flood her body, her shoulders sagging from released tension.

He stands up, comically brushing his backside from errant leaves, and offers her a hand. She takes it, and they begin to walk away from old memories. Kakashi squeezes her hand gently, and she reciprocates the action.

When they return home, her mother envelopes her in her arms and crushes her to her chest. She rains kisses on her face and though Sarada pretends to be embarrassed, she enjoys the affection. Kakashi watches from behind, and she turns to give him a smile before running up the stairs to her bedroom.

She pauses at the top, looking down at her mother who thanks Kakashi. She grins as he curls his hands around her mother's jaw, softly as though he has loved her forever, and brushes his lips across her mother's. Her mother who cups Kakashi's cheeks in her soft hands and pulls away with a tender smile she reserves only for him.

Sarada still hurts over her father's absence, but she knows that her mother's husband would always be there to love them both until he comes back.

-O-

Sarada is 12 years old when her desire to know her father reaches its peak and she sneaks out of the village with ChouChou to find him.

She wants to know Sasuke as well as she knows the weight of a kunai in her hand. She wants to know of the legends that run through her veins, she wants to connect with him and know him as his daughter and not as a stranger.

She does not think about how she might worry her mother, does not think about what would happen to two Academy students crossing through Fire Country alone. She does not realize the danger she puts two clan heirs in her quest for answers.

When she finds him, she has stumbled into a greater scheme of madness. She feels afraid, because she is not yet a Genin and her training as a true ninja has not yet shown her how to react to battle. She feels overwhelmed, because she has been protected her whole life and does not know what to do. She feels excitement because her complex myriad of emotions has awakened her Sharingan. But above all, she feels disappointed.

Because her father did not recognize her. He had looked into her eyes, had made to run her through with his blade, and had only stopped when she announced who she was.

It was not at all how she had pictured their reunion. She had envisioned a loving embrace, a proud acknowledgement of her skills for being able to track him, a kiss, a pat on the shoulder, something.

But he had only said a few words to her.

"You have awakened your Sharingan," he said in a detached voice that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise, "Now I will train you."

Her mind raced, her ears full with the sound of her pounding heart and ChouChou's excited chewing, and disbelief rendered her breathless.

That's it? Twelve years of being away and she had to find him just for that? For a cold dismissal and apparent interest only in her eyes? No how are you, no I missed you, nothing.

And that's when Sarada knew that her fairytale reunion would never happen. That her mother had every reason to keep her away from something so hurtful.

Her back straightened, and she leveled a glare cold enough to make him pause, "No. I don't want you to train me. I can find someone else."

He chuckled at that, not altogether cruel, but not full of humor either.

"Ah yes, Kakashi is your mother's husband," he drawled bitterly, as though it was her mother's fault that he was alone.

Sarada opened her mouth to respond, but was cut short by the sound of a tree falling, was rendered speechless at the sight of a cloaked man who oozed such evil chakra that her legs felt boneless.

He came at ChouChou first, intent on destroying the weakest link, and Sarada mindlessly threw herself in front of her friend. She pulled out a kunai to brace herself against the impact, but the only impact she felt was that of her father's arm wrapping around her waist to launch her and her friend to safety.

She lands on her rear, gazing astonished at her father's back, and she would never forget the look he gave her from over his shoulder.

"You are the heir to the Uchiha," his voice was frigid winds in an Arctic tundra, it was thunder on a frighteningly dark, stormy night, "Act like it."

And then he was gone to fight their enemy.

She shook off the pain she felt in her heart and set her sights on the multiple clones who stood around the small clearing Sasuke left her in. She swallowed the fear, activated her new Sharingan, and with one last glance at ChouChou, the two of them began to fight for their lives.

Sarada had just begun to feel tired and helpless when the Earth began to shake beneath their feet. All combatants turned and looked to the west where trees began to topple over like blocks set in a line, and Sarada felt elation jolt her body like electricity.

She looked over at ChouChou who wore the same expression of relief, and when she looked back towards the west, they were in front of her.

Her Mama...and her Papa.

Sakura and Kakashi.

Because Sarada realized in that moment that parents, if they love you, will hold you up safely, above the swirling waters, and keep you from drowning. Parents would love you, would endure for you, and would always be there. And though she wanted so deeply for Sasuke to be "Papa," he would always be "Father."

Her mother (her strong, beautiful, legendary mother) stood in front of Kakashi, glowing hands balled into fists, with eyes of blazing green locked onto still enemies. And Kakashi (strong, doting, loving, legendary Kakashi) stood slightly behind her, Sharingan swirling beside an eye the color of a tumultuous sea.

"Sarada, ChouChou, come," his voice was the sound of hammers beating against rock, of a Chidori lighting up the sky.

She and ChouChou scurry behind her two greatest protectors, and watch from behind strong backs the way the enemy's eyes shift from adult to adult. Sarada watches at the way the man sets his eyes on her father—Sasuke—and sees how he has decided that the man with one arm would be the easiest to kill in the face of two more legends.

And though Sarada thinks she hates her father (but she never could, because she is her mother's child and could never hate Sasuke), she feels a small measure of pride for the way he proves to be an equal—if not greater—combatant. Because that is the blood that runs through her veins, she is an Uchiha.

She feels her mother's chakra roll over them in waves, angry in a way that she has never felt before. But she is not afraid, because Kakashi has dispatched two bunshin to stand behind the two girls, and she feels the warm weight of the bunshin's hand on her shoulder.

Sarada blinks and finds that her mother has joined the fray. She is a flurry of cherry blossoms in the wind, she is an earthquake, a force of nature and terrifying. Sarada feels an insurmountable amount of pride for her mother's strength; because that is the blood that runs through her veins, she is a Haruno.

Sakura fights by Sasuke, moving in tandem but so awkwardly that it belies their unfamiliarity with each other. And Sarada wants to cry; because how many times had she dreamed of this moment? How many times had she prayed at the shrines that she would see her mother and father standing together and loving her?

But she sees the way her mother's brow furrows over her angry eyes when she glances at Sasuke, sees how she can't bear to look at him, and she knows that her dreams will never come true.

Kakashi tenses in front of her, and Sarada peeks from behind him to see that her father has pushed Sakura away to take over the fight. She watches how Kakashi tracks Sakura's movements, sees the relief in his eyes when she makes their way towards them, knowing that Sasuke would be the one to destroy the enemy.

Sarada wonders then if her prayers had been answered in another, more obvious, way.

The battle is over after a few moments, and Sasuke makes his way towards them. Both her mother and Kakashi tense, and then relax when Sasuke averts his eyes.

"I will return to the village," he says, "I have to speak to Naruto."

And then he is walking away from them, away from her, and Sarada misses the way her mother glances at her and then cuts angry eyes to her father's back.

Sakura walks over to him briskly, grasps him by the shoulder and spins him around to whisper some angry words. They look back at her, then at each other, and Sasuke nods before her mother begins to walk back to them.

Sarada looks up at Kakashi in askance, and he merely smiles, ruffles her hair and says, "Let's go home, Sarada."

They make their way through the trees, all five of them, and Sasuke travels slightly ahead. As she watches his back move farther and farther away from her, she makes peace with the fact that her father would always be too far to reach.

But she looks at the grey haired man beside her, the man who has been a reassuring constant in her life, and knows that while Sasuke may forever evade her grasp, Kakashi would always be within arms distance.

-O-

Sarada walks through her mother's garden, intent on watering Mr. Ukki, when angry voices reach her ears.

She creeps closer to the commotion, but stops short at the sight of her mother and her father speaking in furious, hushed tones. She pauses, it is more like her mother speaking and Sasuke merely listening; so she quickly hides behind a tree, hoping that they haven't seen her, but by the rush of her mother's words, she knows that they haven't.

She strains her ears and focuses on words, shutting her eyes to free her senses.

"Twelve years, Sasuke," Sakura's voice breaks, her feelings laid bare for all to see, "is a long time to stay away."

Sarada's heart stops, her breath frozen in her chest as she realizes the subject of their conversation. Here is where she will know the reason for her parent's separation, for her father's absence, and she feels a small amount of excitement.

Her excitement gives way to dread when Sasuke scoffs; it is an angry sound, so unlike the detached man she had met days before.

"It doesn't seem like you've needed me, Sakura," the way he says it is a mockery of her name, and Sarada bristles.

It seems as though her mother has done the same because her next words are said through clenched teeth, "And what did you expect me to do, Sasuke? Wait?"

"You've waited for me before, Sakura," he says, as if it were something so obvious that Sakura would be stupid to forget.

"Yes, I have," she says slowly, like it pains her to admit the fact and Sarada can picture the pleased smile that crosses her father's lips. Even if she's never seen him smile.

"But I had waited for you for over ten years, Sasuke," Sakura's voice is strong, imploring him to understand, "I couldn't wait anymore. I was alone, and I had to live for myself and not for you, Sasuke!"

"So you decide to find comfort in the arms of our former teacher," Sasuke's anger is muted, as if he's trying to contain it and Sarada clenches her shirt between trembling fingers.

"Sasuke, loving you was like being held underwater, like my world started with you and ended each time you left. I couldn't do it anymore! What were you even doing for all this time?"

"I had a mission, Sakura, you know that. I was not done atoning for my sins, I—"

"You were supposed to stay," and her mother's voice is a cacophony of long buried emotions, of longing and pain and old heart break. Because Sasuke has spent over twelve years trying to fix what he had broken, and in doing so he left the one person who would always forgive him.

Her father says nothing, and so her mother continues bitterly, "I was pregnant and you were supposed to stay. But you left me, you left her, because we weren't enough for you."

"You had nothing to do with my sins. I couldn't stay for you when there was still a threat to our village out there."

Sarada's throat feels tight, like being in the presence of such emotion was not worth knowing the answers to her questions.

"If not for me, then for her, Sasuke," Sakura says softly, and Sarada hears a rustle of clothing and when she peeks from behind the tree, she sees her mother holding onto her father's hand, tracing the lines of his palm.

"I loved you."

And it is all Sasuke says, and the tear that flows down her mother's face mirrors her own.

"I know Sasuke, and I loved you too," she says so softly that Sarada almost doesn't hear her, "but it wasn't the love I feel for him."

Sasuke snatches his hand back in distaste, turning away from her.

"He was there when you weren't, he loves me the way you can't, and I never have to worry if he will ever leave me," Sakura finishes strongly but gasps when Sasuke rushes forward to grasp her shoulders.

"Do you know what it did to me, Sakura," he begins through gritted teeth, "when the first word I received from my wife in over two years was to say that she's leaving me?"

Sarada gasps because she was not privy to those facts, and Sakura pushes Sasuke away.

"Don't play victim with me, Sasuke," she spits, "You wrote to Kakashi every week and never asked for me or your daughter. You weren't even there for her birth!"

"You could have written me!"

"Why?!"

Her shrill question is met with silence, and she laughs humorlessly, bitterly. It is an ugly sound that Sarada does not want to hear ever again.

"Don't you see, Sasuke? I'm always the one reaching out for you, always the one begging for your attention. I didn't—I don't—want to live like that."

Sasuke's eyes on his ex-wife are heavy, searching for an ounce of dishonesty, and then finally look away.

"Sasuke."

Her voice makes him look at her once more, look at the eyes he realizes he doesn't recognize anymore. Here is the woman he had loved, the mother of his child, and yet he did not know her. Perhaps he never did.

"Don't let her walk in my footsteps," her words are low, begging, "Please be a father to Sarada. She is the heir to the Uchiha and she needs you. Kakashi may be my husband, and he may love her like his own, but you are her father."

Sakura smiles slightly and takes Sasuke hand in her own once more, "She is a part of you, too. And she is so like you, I see more and more of you in her every day. So please, please allow her to love you the way she wants to."

Sarada's fingers are clenched so tightly in her blouse that her knuckles go white, holding her breath to better hear her father's answer. The answer she desperately needs.

"Very well, I will stay."

Sarada's breath escapes her the same moment her mother rushes forward to crush Sasuke to her chest. She thanks him over and over again, promising that he would fall so in love with his daughter.

Sarada stays hidden behind the tree long after they've left, and cries.

-O-

She is 13, nearly fourteen, and considered a prodigy when she stops wearing blue and takes up the color red.

Her father has been training her ever since that day in the garden, and with his help and her step-father's Sarada has grown to be one of the strongest in her generation. She will be eternally grateful for her mother's intervention, because she has come to love her biological father as fiercely as she loves her other parents.

And she knows that, in his own way, he loves her just as strongly. But Sarada doesn't call him anything other than "father," because while he has finally recognized her as his daughter, she reserves any other familiar moniker for the one father-figure in her life that has remained constant.

Blue is the color of the Uchiha clan, but Sarada wants to honor her mother because now she doesn't feel like she needs to be like her father to feel close to him. So she wears the red of the Haruno emblazoned with the fan of the Uchiha.

Red is the color of leaves during autumn, red is the color of her Sharingan eye, it is the color of her mother's cheeks when she tells her that she is pregnant.

Sarada feels elated, because her new sibling would be born into a home full of love, unlike she has. But then she grasps that thought, holds it in her hands and sets it aflame. Because she had been born into a loving home, too. It was in the faces Kakashi made on her pancakes with fruit as a toddler, the way her mother would fuss over her when she was sick, in the way they both made sure she felt loved and wanted.

So Sarada cups her mother's face in the palms of her hands and gently rains kisses along her nose, her cheeks, her forehead and tells her that she is happy.

Kakashi stands behind Sakura, nervous in a way that only she can see, and Sarada runs over and tackles him in a hug.

"Are you excited to be a dad, Kakashi?" she asks and he smiles so tenderly at her that it makes her breath catch in her throat.

He wraps his arms around her tighter and says, "Yes, but I don't think it'll be any different, I've been a father for nearly fourteen years, Sara-chan."

She gazes up at him, then nuzzles her face into his chest so that he can't see the happy tears that roll down her cheeks.

"Of course you have, Papa," she whispers, acknowledging his role in her life for the first time since she was a child, and she feels her heart swell, her mother coming to wrap her arms around them both.

The new baby would be born into a house full of love and she knew it because she has never been bereft of it.

The next day, Sarada has the mark of the Hatake clan sewn onto the sleeves of all of her shirts.

-O-

Her mother is six months pregnant and enormous for Sarada's birthday.

She wears her long pink hair tied back in the way it always is, her face lit by the glow of motherhood, and she carries a cake full of lit candles to the table.

Her aunt, Ino, tuts and rushes over to grab the cake from her hands. Her mother squawks indignantly and puffs out her dewy cheeks, but Aunt Ino only laughs.

They set the cake in front of her, her name is written beautifully on top, surrounded by flames and circles and an image of Pakkun. She beams at Kakashi, who has an errant splotch of flour on his masked cheek, and he grins in return. She knows that it is her favorite flavor, because Kakashi has baked all of her birthday cakes, and her mother has always written her name.

She's blowing out the candles when her father appears, and the world freezes. Sarada watches him walk through the door, level steady eyes on her mother's swollen belly, and smile. While Aunt Ino cuts the cake, Sarada watches her father place a kiss on her mother's cheek, watches him pull Kakashi into a hug and hears him congratulate her parents.

Sarada hates crying, but she is her mother's daughter, so she cries joyfully and decides that this will always be the best birthday she has ever had.

Ino smiles softly to herself as she watches her beloved niece cry happily from the corner of her eye. She knows that Sasuke has come to terms with his failures, sees how he's been trying to be more accepting and forgiving of circumstances he can't control. So when he walks over to kiss his daughter and give her his gift, she gives Sarada a piece of cake, subtly instructing her to give it to him.

Sarada shyly offers her father a piece a cake, even though she knows he doesn't like sweets, and grins beatifically when he eats it all.

-O-

Months later, they sit in her soon to be born brother's nursery, folding tiny shirts and tiny pants and her mother hums a lullaby from her childhood, using her bursting belly as a table.

They are discussing names, because even though her baby brother is due any day now, her parents have not decided on one.

"How about Takeshi, Mama?" She asks and Sakura hums in contemplation, then wrinkles her lightly freckled nose.

"It sounds too close to Kakashi."

Sarada sighs, choosing a name for a person is one of the hardest and most complicated things she has ever done.

She gives voice to a thought that appears in her mind, "Mama, how did I get my name?"

A tender smile forms on her mother's lips, and she places a folded little shirt in the basket beside her.

"Well, sweetheart, Kakashi was the one who named you," she says sweetly and Sarada's eyes widen in surprise.

A grin curls her lips, "So what does it mean?"

"Oil." Her mother chirps as she reaches for a mint green onesie.

"Oil," Sarada deadpans, because her friends have names that mean beautiful things and her parents named her oil.

Sakura laughs, the sound filling the room like the tinkling of bells, and says, "I said that too, at first!"

Sarada pouts, put out because why couldn't she have a name like Aya or Tsukiko?

Her mother leans in, tucks a lock of inky shoulder length hair behind her ear and says, "Sarada Uchiha, when said fully, sounds like Sarada-yu. And yes, that means cooking oil, but remember, oil is also used to start a fire."

Sarada stares intently as her mother goes back to folding onesies and baby shirts and baby pants while she speaks,

"And, Kakashi explained to me, that as the heir to the Uchiha, you would be the one to relight their flames."

Sarada's heart swells with pride, rendering her speechless, and her mother smiles.

-O-

Later, Kakashi wonders why Sarada tackles him in a tearful hug and whispers she loves him.

-O-

Weeks pass, and her mother is in labor, and when Sarada sneaks a glimpse through the window, she sees her in so much pain that it makes her feel sick.

Her mother is in labor, and Kakashi is on a mission.

They tell her that it has been a difficult birth thus far, that the only thing keeping her brother alive is the chakra Sakura keeps cycling through his body.

Her mother is in labor, Kakashi is on a mission, and her brother is dying.

She wants to run inside the room and push her mother's hair from her sweaty face, wants to squeeze her hand and use her recently learned medical ninjutsu to help her, but Aunt Ino ushers her away from the door and all she can do is cry.

Sarada sits on a cold bench in the waiting room, holding her Aunt's shaking hand, when the doors to the hospital burst open in a flurry of leaves and chaos.

And then Kakashi is there, bloody and frantic.

He grabs a young nurse by the shoulders, shakes her and disappears when she points down the hall, squeaking out a room number. Sarada rips her hand out of Ino's and follows her Papa down the hall, and stops in the doorway of the open room.

Her heart is thunder in her ears as she watches her mother tilt her head back and scream through clenched teeth, Kakashi sitting at her side holding her hand and pushing sweaty locks of pink away from her face with steady fingers.

Sarada watches him scoop her long locks and tie them into a bun on top of her head, watches him talk in her ear as her mother cries and curses and groans. She was always told that her birth had been easy, and she felt foolish expecting this one to be the same.

Then the doctor orders her mother to give one last push, and she does so with a cry that is not unlike the one she makes when she levels mountains.

The room is quiet as the nurses carry the silent child away from her panting mother; her mother who is openly sobbing, her mother who reaches out longingly for her mute baby.

Sarada feels her heart break, feels her knees threaten to give out from under her.

Then, a cry of surprise, and the piercing wail of a healthy baby boy fills the room.

Her mother cries out in relief, lifting herself up in a motion that only women do, and calls out for her child. Kakashi is beside her, crying unabashedly and kissing every open surface of Sakura's face.

They place her baby brother in her mother's arms, Kakashi gazing down at them like a proud father, and she swallows because she feels like she is intruding.

"Sarada, come and meet your brother."

Kakashi's voice jolts her from her thoughts and she rushes over to peer at the tiny being nestled in his mother's arms.

She gazes at him in awe; never before had she seen such a tiny human being, and she shifts nervously because he seems so fragile.

Her mother gently pets the snowy hair on his head with a finger then runs it reverently over his face, and when he opens his eyes, Sarada's breath is taken away.

They are a dark green she knows will lighten with time, but he is a mixture of her mama and her papa and she loves him fiercely.

"Oh Mama, he's beautiful," she breathes and she knows that she will protect this tiny, perfect being for all of his life.

Kakashi places a kiss on the top of her head, then her mother's lips, and then finally, gently, on the tip of his new son's perfect nose.

"Ryuu," he says simply and Sarada rests her head on his shoulder with a soft smile as they both gaze down at their family.

Dragon and oil, and it fits. Because dragons breathe fire onto oil, and it makes the flames of two dead clans stronger.

-End-

And that is it! If you have any other questions, or if something didn't make sense to you, please feel free to PM me anything you might have for me.