#especially Masashi since he play video game but not sure how well he would do 😂
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Wahhh after watching episode 48, felt like had to watch something light a bit. End up watching King-Chan! The episode where they play Fortnite (2 part) with the show country in it. Long post…😅
Although have to say it like mind-blown by the details especially there were a few things even the cast didn’t know.
Sadly only four of them participated, Aoto, Marie (Erica), Yuzuyan (Yuzuki) & So. (I am used to calling them that 😅) Yuzuyan & So were wearing glasses they look so cute wearing them 😆
First video was about N'Kosopa, where they were given the task to climb to the top.
None of had it easy climbing up 😂 So did comment he was more used to keyboard and mouse compare to controller saying he would do better. In the end they did provide him with it.
They took turn to climb up but they spend a lot of time falling 🤣
Yuzuyan’s turn she was first one to finally reach to the next level , they all celebrated the accomplishment thinking the game end & it seem like Yuzuyan had enough because she tried to end the channel 😂 Byebye Chan
Unfortunately there were still many level left to climb & there isn’t a save point 😰 so if you fall you’re starting from back from the start Zero!
Surprising Aoto was most quite while they other were playing while the rest were very noisy especially Yuzuyan 😂 (Part 1 & Part2)
They took a break & explore the other part of N’Kosopa. The detail was amazing even the epic showdown (E39) the bridge was there!
They return back to climbing & in middle Marie was saying like who best (this part not that sure but I think so) So, Marie, Yuzuyan & then Aoto who was in totally disbelief haha he click his tongue(probably annoyed 😅) then he blame he see it & doesn’t get it. (Probably referring to the different mechanism that enable the jump)
Afterward they got Miki-Sensei who was guiding them from the beginning & to show how it done lol but even he was struggling. Then admit he more comfortable keyboard & mouse. Chaos broke 😂 when they heard it since he was supposed to be the expert! Although they keep cheering Sensei on to reach the top which he did 😁 well only part of it there was still tower climb.
So tease Aoto to do the climb but he respond this isn’t the Teppen he seek. (Almost similar to E44) It sound so cool even So compliment him.
So did try the tower climb while in between Aoto was supposed to give his thought on it. I couldn’t really tell what sort of game he say it was like. Though he did say 楽勝でした (It was easy win) Marie immediately turn to stare at him while Yuzuyan just criticize him 😂 (since he was struggling the most ah poor Aoto) So was busy still playing.
Part 2
Shugoddam, they were only inside the castle the throne room. So was using controller and there was a mini game where you shoot target 🎯 that appear in the place. The ceiling of the throne room even had the King Ohger Mural!
Next was Ishabana and it was a like a quest. Marie had the control. Apparently in beginning you can choose Japanese or English, So & Yuzuyan ask Marie to choose English but she refuse saying let her do it in Japanese.
So spoke English for a moment asking do you speak Japanese (Gahh it sound good)
Marie just reply back in Japanese 😂
YET somehow it turn out the written dialogue was in English. Marie blame that she couldn’t see plus mention that she thought Japanese was on default & press the wrong button thus it end up to be English. Therefore she had no choice but to translate for them what the dialogue 🤣 (Poor Marie) she did translate for them roughly although some part she skip they were like what was written?!?! She did apologize for choosing English but they were fine with it. ☺️
Basically the quest is that you wake up in Ishabana & was save so want return back the favour to Queen Himeno. So the quest is find 5 flower the way was to use Pick-axe to smash the rock to find it. Yet somehow after giving the flower you seem to want to do more since she did save your life. That you end up have to find 300 flower. There was another ‘cheat’ way where this traveller got a machine that allow you make flower but in return the traveller wants a MOFFUN! You have to find it and exchange for the machine that allow you complete the quest and then you can access second floor of castle.
Though like N’Kosopa they just explore outside of the castle and the surrounding.
Next was Gokkan
A bit let down didn’t see the Castle it was mostly outside(I mean it was beautiful but I wanted a small glimpse of the castle) where Yuzuyan & So had the controller (it like two player now onward). Sensei was telling them to power up & gacha for weapon because the game in Gokkan was to fight like wave of zombie figure. Although there was a cool weapon where you shoot out sword & it stab to the ground like Rita’s signature move before exploding! Cool oh yeah it was purple 😎
While they play until they lost, it was really fun they wanted do another round but couldn’t due to lack of time.
Next was Toufu that was still under development while they were playing.
So & Aoto had the controllers this time. They were basically just inside the castle & there was a room that made out like kitchen where all cooking is done they had the sink, box, shelves just anything that like huge kitchen. It was connected to the Throne room.
Also there was this game where you can become a Mini-Kuroko. Basically the game is that you have be last person standing. Not sure if two player game or more can join but for this channel was just two of them.
The base is Tatami mat & underneath is lava so you have to survive by just trying not to fall into the lava. The Tatami mat is fragile so it will break after stepping on it, you can dash & jump. Just have to be last Kuroko standing!
Aoto just kept losing 5 times in a row hahaha & he said it was boring because of it 🤣
So reacted to it saying Aoto just suck at the game.
(There was a statue that say who is wining & how may win)
After his fifth lost, So then suggested whoever lose give next person.
Then Marie took over as she tried to trap So but still lost 3 times 😅 that she like ask Yuzuyan to take over 😆
If I am not mistaken (since they do cut out some part) Yuzuyan lost once but second time finally beat the undefeated Champion So! She even say Toufu now mine & cheer hahaha cute
Then Aoto vs Yuzuyan & 😂 Aoto lost (Aoto I feel so bad for you he is really terrible at game lol)
Then it was Marie Vs Yuzuyan &…Marie won. Then So begin to tease Yuzuyan for losing 😆
Afterward they were told to draw faces for Kuroko that they might use for the game.
Apparently found out they do reuse (or unintentionally put among with other notebook) their drawing notebook that they got sidetrack to find some of previous Masato Yano (Racles) stuff he did in one previous King Chan.
So & Yuzuyan drew a few possible picture to use for Kuroko & I am terrible at explaining how look like so I will just post a picture of one main one they drew
Then they also given the task to give a name for the game which they came up with was this…
黒子からの挑戦畳 (Kuroko's challenge tatami)
~Tatami, Sushi,Samurai~
Though they seem to agree that when the game release the bottom part might be removed 😂
Just roughly what can tell from the two episode (I was laughing at them playing also 😆it so amusing) although I really just want to play the game to see the world…I don’t know if I got time. 🥲
#kingchan#kingohger#Aoto Watanabe#Erica Murakami#Yuzuki Hirakawa#So Kaku#rough translation my Japanese isn’t that great tbh#just wanted to share because it just too hilarious#sad the other two couldn’t join#especially Masashi since he play video game but not sure how well he would do 😂
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“Today, we’ll be moving on from our discussion of using your surroundings to boost the power of your spells to putting it into practice,” Kataoka said. Jun tried not to groan. He understood the theory perfectly, had worked through it in his spare time, and knew it inside and out.
That didn’t mean he could actually do it, though.
It was halfway through the second semester, well into autumn, and Jun was no closer to finding a solution to his problem than he’d been at the beginning of the year. It was hard to even still feel the same sense of urgency anymore. The problem was starting to become an old one.
One he would never solve, that voice in the back of his head whispered.
Maybe he really should take Takashima up on her offer to join her research group. It couldn’t be worse than this, right? And he could apply for a stipend as a researcher, so it would mean extra money for him. Which was a positive.
But he’d been trying to find a way to use magic, to really fit into the magical world he lived in, since he was young. Could he really quit that now, when he’d come so far? Was that really okay?
“Isashiki.” Jun jumped out of his musing at the sight of Kataoka standing in front of him. “You understand participation is fifty percent of the grade in my class, right?”
“Uh, yes,” Jun said, jumping to his feet. “Um, I can’t…”
“I really can’t give you credit for participation if you can’t complete the activity,” Kataoka told him bluntly. “I understand your situation, but it’s not fair to all the other students if you get credit when you haven’t done the same work as them.”
“I understand, sir.” Kataoka considered him.
“Whatever it is you need to figure out, figure it out,” Kataoka told him. “I’d rather have you on the team than not, and I don’t want you cut because of your grades.”
Jun bit his lip. Objectively, he knew all his professors had been more than fair to him when it came to actually doing magic. He was only really doing well in classes where he didn’t have to use magic, but he also wasn’t failing yet, and he wasn’t dumb enough to think it was because of his own skills.
***
“I promise, it’s just school stuff. But I will get offended if you don’t start taking this seriously.” Jun bowled another ball down the ramp, pumping his fist as it went into the 10,000 slot. He really had that one dialed in now. “It’s no fun beating someone that’s not trying.”
“Can I help with the school stuff?” Yuuki asked, bowling another shot directly into the 500 hoop, which really just existed to comfort people who didn’t know how to play skee-ball.
“Do you know how to incorporate the surrounding elements into a combat spell?” Jun asked, more to be a dick than anything else. Yuuki looked at him blankly. “Yeah, thought not.”
“I was hoping you just needed help studying or something,” Yuuki said. “I was going to offer to quiz you.”
“I appreciate the offer, I do, but studying is actually the only thing I’m good at,” Jun told him. “It’s all the practical stuff I’m bad at.”
“Isn’t your major practical magic?”
“You know, I’d actually managed to forget that for a while. Thanks for reminding me.”
Yuuki looked distressed enough that Jun felt bad for being such a dick. He was taking all his frustrations out on Yuuki, and that wasn’t fair. The whole reason he’d even suggested going to the arcade was so he could take his aggression out on helpless video games.
“So are you gonna keep letting me walk all over you?” Jun asked, giving Yuuki a grin to try and break the tension. “Because so far I’m kicking your ass from here to Sunday.”
“It’s been a while since I played this,” Yuuki admitted, managing to tip his ball into the 2,500 ring.
“Shouldn’t you have better hand eye coordination than me, Mr. Baseball Hotshot?” Jun asked. “By the way, you never told me how your coach took the sign. Tell me you have a picture of his face.”
Yuuki shook his head regretfully.
“I have to leave my phone in the locker room when I’m playing,” he said. “There’s no way for me to carry it. But trust me, your sign was worth it. I’ll be laughing at the look on his face until I graduate.”
“You better have someone ready to take a picture next year,” Jun said.
“Next year?”
“I mean, yeah, obviously I’ll have to come up with something better next year,” Jun said. “I have to keep them on their toes, or else they’ll get complacent.”
“They?”
“They.”
Jun threw his last ball and waited for Yuuki to throw his. Yuuki tried valiantly for the 10,000 slot, misjudged the throw and bounced off the rim for a sad addition of 500 instead.
“So that’s…two hundred twenty-five thousand on my end to your twelve thousand five hundred,” Jun said. “This round goes to me.”
It barely took Yuuki any time to gather his tickets, but Jun had to wait for his pile to print out. He stuffed them into the paper cup he was carrying around, just barely able to shove them all in.
“So do you think you could actually be good at any of these games?” Jun asked, looking around. “Wack-a-mole, maybe?”
“Cute.”
“Oh, how about this?” Jun asked, pointing to a shooter.
“Can you even win tickets on this?” Yuuki asked, eyeing the machine warily.
“Getting to shoot stuff is the prize,” Jun told him. “Come on, kill zombies with me.”
“Those are supposed to be zombies?”
“We’re not exactly playing this for the top of the line graphics, dude.”
Yuuki shrugged and picked up the gun on the left. Jun grinned, grabbing for the leftover gun and dropping some tokens in the machine.
The game started up, and Yuuki shot to select multiplayer. Huh. It looked like he was actually okay at this particular game.
“Take this, ya bastards!” Jun yelled, moving into kill mode. He thought he heard Yuuki chuckle next to him.
He was more than just okay, Jun discovered as the game started up. All of the skill he’d lacked in skee-ball was apparently just being saved for shooter games. Jun wasn’t doing bad on his own, but Yuuki was absolutely mowing his way through zombies. Jun would’ve been a little terrified if he wasn’t so attracted to Yuuki in that moment.
So he had a weakness for strong men who could slaughter zombies. Sue him.
Yuuki absolutely obliterated Jun’s score, and Jun couldn’t even be mad. It was clear who the winner had been here.
“Want to go another round?” Yuuki asked.
“I’m out of tokens,” Jun groaned. “You?”
“I only have one left.”
“Not enough for another round.”
They considered each other.
“Ready to cash out our tickets?” Jun asked.
“Yes, I’ll treasure my eraser for all eternity,” Yuuki deadpanned.
“Hey, look on the bright side,” Jun said. “Maybe you can afford a bouncy ball.”
“Luxury.”
It turned out that Yuuki could not, in fact, afford a bouncy ball. He took his eraser like a man. Jun looked over his options, trying to find something worthy of how badly he’d kicked Yuuki’s ass at skee-ball. He felt his face twist into a sharp grin when he saw the perfect item, pointing it out to the bored looking high schooler manning the counter.
“Here,” he said, grabbing Yuuki’s wrist and slipping something on. Yuuki looked down at his wrist, then back up at Jun.
“What.”
“Look, it says ‘best friends forever’ right here,” Jun said, turning the beads so they faced up. “Very manly. The greatest expression of male friendship.”
“This is what you spent your tickets on?”
“Well, there was some candy too, which I might be persuaded to share if you’re nice to me.”
“Friendship bracelets.”
“Hey man, don’t knock bonds formed in friendship bracelets.” Jun tried desperately to keep a straight face. He wasn’t as good at it as Yuuki. “You’ve been declared my best friend forever. You can never get rid of me now.”
“Bold of you to assume I was trying.”
“Oh man, it got late,” Jun said, pushing out the door. It was already dark. As if on cue, his stomach growled.
“Want to get dinner?”
“I could eat.”
They wandered into a family restaurant nearby. The warm lights and cheap food were the savior of broke university students everywhere.
“I know it’s still a little away, but what are you doing over winter break?” Yuuki asked.
“Going back to my parents’ house,” Jun told him. “We’re getting everyone together for the new year. You’re just staying here, right?”
“Yeah, it’s too much trouble to travel,” Yuuki said. “Especially since Masashi has practice during the break.”
“Must be nice to have everyone here,” Jun said. “It’s easier to have me travel back, even if I like it here.”
“You’re originally from Kanagawa prefecture, right?”
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see you over spring vacation, though.”
“Probably not. It’s a longer break for me, so I’m going to visit some friends up north.”
“We could’ve planned this better.”
“It’s not my fault you never tell me things.” Yuuki did the closest thing Jun had ever seen to a pout on his face. “We’re supposed to be best friends forever.”
“I am already regretting the bracelets.” Jun rolled his eyes. “That’s it, give it back.”
“No, I’m keeping it forever.”
They lapsed into silence, finishing up the rest of their food.
“Are you sure I can’t help you with the school stuff?” Yuuki asked. “You seemed pretty upset about it earlier.”
“Yeah, it’s just…” Jun sighed. “Something I have to fix on my own. It’s a personal problem.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Will do.”
After a brief fight about the bill – that ended with Yuuki shoving cash into Jun’s hands for his half of the meal – they left. Saying their goodbyes, Jun headed in the direction of his apartment.
That hadn’t been a date, right? It was normal for two guys to hang out at an arcade together, and it was far from the first time they’d gotten food together. It was just their friendship.
But it kind of felt like a date. I kind of wanted it to be a date, Jun corrected himself.
He’d already known he was starting to fall for Yuuki. But he knew better than to get his hopes up about something unless he knew for sure it was a date. He’d been burned by that before.
But still. He wanted this to be a date.
Maybe it could be, if he worked up the courage to ask Yuuki. If he could figure out his school problems, he’d be free to pursue Yuuki all he wanted.
Which was even more reason to fix his magic shit.
He should get working.
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Metamorphosis
Summary: It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she – he – was not a girl. [Day 13 – Prompt: “It’s A Boy” ]
Disclaimer: This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016- )
Rating: T
General Warnings: I can’t believe I need to have a warning for this, but we live in a time where people can be horrid little monsters. There are LGBTQ themes in this story. There is a transgender character, and the story deals with some of concerns and difficulties that families, especially parents, of a transgender child deal with. If you are uncomfortable with this subject matter in anyway, you are welcome to click the “back” button and wait around for my next prompt. Nasty comments about my choice in subject matter will be ignored, and possibly mocked.
Trigger Warning: For those of you who actually are LGBTQ, this story may bring up some strong emotions. The person who proofread this for me had some difficulty reading this chapter as it hit on some of his own experiences and challenges coming out as transgender. He made sure I knew how important it was to tag this appropriately. Though he said this story was well-written, as someone who had dealt with the scenario personally, he didn’t like it. So if you have experienced something in your life where you are caused distress by reading about parents trying to come to terms with their transgender child do not read this story. I don’t want to cause mental anguish or reopen wounds that some of you might not have had a chance to heal yet.
Author’s Note: The minute I saw this prompt I knew this was the story I was going to write. There aren’t enough fics out there dealing with transgender kids coming out, and even fewer about what the parents (even the most supportive ones) go through behind closed doors. I’ve done my best to be delicate with the subject without sacrificing any of my usual style choices. Obviously, not every experience is the same from individual to individual, but I made every effort. And just to head off any comments about my own personal stand on the matter: I support transgender individuals and their rights. I believe that it is your mind and your soul that determines who you are, not your genitals. And while I am not perfect, and I still occasionally slip up with pronouns and accidentally say things which show my privilege as a cisgender woman, I stand by the transgender community. Especially in this time, when hatred and outrage are directed at across the entire world. The views expressed in this story are not all necessarily mine – in fact, there are several ideas that were difficult for me to put to paper, because I very much don’t agree with them. But based on my research, for good or ill, they are sentiments that have been expressed by parents when a child comes out. I only hope I have managed to treat the subject matter with respect and possibly given you, my readers, something to think on. I’m hoping to showcase that even the people we care deeply for (whether real or imaginary) can do some things we don’t necessarily like or agree with. Doing the right thing is not always as easy, and some people find it harder than others, but in the end it is worth it. No one should weight their personal discomforts or prejudices against another person’s happiness and right to thrive.
Beta Reader: Sakura’s Unicorn
Sasuke stares up at the large, draping banner in his living room which proclaims, ‘Happy Birthday!’. Bunches of blue helium balloons meander along the ceiling, nearly obscuring the clock that ticks closer and closer to the inevitable. He has to consciously rein in the desire to set it all on fire.
He hates parties. Always has, always will. Even knowing that this is for his kid isn’t much of an incentive to relax; he finds that hard to do even under normal circumstances. Naruto would say that that’s because he’s got a pole shoved up his ass, but then, Naruto’s judgement is questionable. It’s been questionable since childhood, the JSDF, their tour of duty in Iraq, and then their stint on the Okayama Bomb Squad seven years ago which resulted in both of them losing an arm.
Then again, his questionable judgement is also the reason Sasuke is even alive to have a kid— whom he’s throwing a ridiculous, superhero-themed birthday party for—in the first place, so he gets a pass.
This time.
The entire foyer is decorated with streamers and decals of the latest comic craze to hit television. Little cape-clad figures proudly proclaiming, “It’s a Boy!” are interspersed along the wall. Honestly, it’s utterly kitschy and targeted for a much younger demographic than an eleven-year-old, but then, today isn’t an ordinary birthday.
It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she—he—was not a girl. It was an announcement that, Sasuke maintains, caused him considerable confusion and, if he’s not lying, a little resentment.
He comes from a traditional background. His ancestors were samurai of note and, in their small community of Konoha, the Uchiha name means a lot—an old, founding family with traditions and taboos and expectations. These “LGBTQ issues” that his wife and child keep talking about falls very naturally under the umbrella of what Sasuke was brought up to categorise as “don’t ask, don’t tell.”
It’s an unspoken rule that men and women among the Uchiha may take lovers of the same sex if they wish as long as they fulfil their duties to the clan: namely, get married and produce children. Hell, his own brother’s been in a twenty-year relationship with a male masseuse, but Itachi still had the prudence to get married and produce two kids first.
The point is, it’s not talked about.
It is how everything has always been done. And in just the same way, among his family, members of the Uchiha play the role they are assigned by birth. A man has his place, as does a woman. The idea of operating outside of those very separate spheres, let alone the idea of a man being born into the body of a woman, is nonsensical to him.
To say Sasuke had instant reservations would be putting it lightly.
If he were a man of a different temperament—a man like his father—his first instinct would be to point out the impossibility of the situation, and if that failed, attempt to find some counsel to get his child over it. A very, very small part of him continues to be tempted to do just that.
The other part—the one who has travelled the world and been exposed to many different lifestyles, the one who has struggled with his own demons (both addiction and the trauma of active combat), the one who married one of the most open-minded women in existence—that part tells him to keep his fucking mouth shut and go along with it for the sake of his family.
If it weren’t for Sakura, he doesn’t think he could manage it.
His wife reacted to the announcement with the same sympathy and openness he’s seen her display at every major milestone—like the time Sarada shamefacedly admitted to needing glasses, or when their Uchiha cousins throw around insults about “commoner blood.” In every case, Sakura is always the calm and comforting one, the one ending her assurances with, “We love you, no matter what.”
In her usual whirlwind manner, after hearing Sarada’s announcement, she made it her personal mission to ensure their child’s needs were met completely. Because of the nature of her job, she was already very knowledgeable about it all, to the point of being matter-of-fact.
“The important thing here is to show that we support him from the beginning, no matter what,” she insisted.
Suddenly, the house was filled with every book written on the subject, and every other day, she was on the phone with some expert or other. For four years, she organised psychological and psychiatric consultations, fought for an official diagnosis of gender identity disorder, had them attend individual and family counselling sessions as well as meetings with a sexologist, and schooled Sasuke in the usage of proper pronouns.
And woe betide anyone—friends or even family members—who questioned her decision to support Sarada. There’s a reason that Sasuke’s family, with the exception of Itachi, will be conspicuously absent from today’s festivities.
It’s another one of Sakura’s ideas, a formal show of support, as Sarada has decided the time is right to live as a boy from now on.
They’ve told a select few people, with Sarada’s permission, over the years—the respective grandparents, Naruto and Kakashi and their families, Sarada’s teachers and best friend ChōChō—but today is the official “coming out.” Sakura was seconds from taking out an ad in the damned newspaper before Sasuke and Sarada stopped her.
He wonders if there’s such a thing as being too supportive.
“How are you doing with all this?”
Sasuke glances to one side, notices Kakashi eyeing him knowingly. His former bomb squad captain and mentor is always observant. Today is one of those days Sasuke wishes he wasn’t.
“Fine,” he replies neutrally, taking a sip of tea. He isn’t actually thirsty, but he just needs something to occupy his hand and mouth.
“And Sarada?”
“Fine.”
Kakashi sighs in annoyance. “Is there any point in asking how Sakura’s doing?”
They both glance through the door to the kitchen, where Sasuke’s wife is fighting with Ino about pretzel-to-chip ratios (“Don’t you dare fuck up my child’s birthday party, Pig!” “You’re the one who can’t manage proper place settings for shit, Forehead!”).
“She’s in her element,” he replies simply.
“Man, I’ve got so much respect for you guys,” Naruto says with a low whistle, and then takes a chug of his beer. “I don’t even know what I’d do if it were my kid.”
Sasuke rolls his eyes. “You’d be doing the same thing I’m doing, moron. Only with more panicking and oversharing.”
“Very funny,” Naruto replies with a scowl, but then his face relaxes into earnestness. “I’m not so sure. I mean, yeah, in theory, I’d like to say I would, but in reality… It’s just weird. I mean, one day, you have Sarada and the next day…well, the next day, you have him.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Sasuke replies shortly.
Any further rumination on the topic is cut off when the doorbell rings.
“I’ve got it!” Sakura sings, flying from the kitchen to greet their first guests.
“Shouldn’t Sarada get the door?” he inquires. “It’s his party, after all.”
“He’s busy. ChōChō said something about a surprise,” his wife answers, hauling open the door and exclaiming her delight at the first guests.
Sasuke sighs, squares his shoulders, and prepares for the longest afternoon of his life.
うちは
The atmosphere at the beginning of the party is pleasant, but there is a definite undercurrent of curiosity and uncertainty beneath the requisite excitement.
When Hinata arrives with Boruto and Himawari, the latter chirps a sunny hello to Sasuke and bounds upstairs to find Sarada. As in all things, Naruto’s youngest is utterly unaffected by the whole matter. To her, life is simple: yesterday, it was sunny; today, it’s overcast.
Sarada was a girl, now he’s a boy.
In contrast, Boruto skulks in, glowers at everyone, and sits in the farthest corner with his handheld gaming device. Naruto scowls at him, and when Sasuke raises an eyebrow, he shrugs, and confides in a low voice, “He’s having some trouble adjusting. Sarada’s his best friend. Even knowing this was coming…I don’t think he actually thought it would.”
Neither of them mention the fact that Naruto’s son has always had a crush on Sarada, and that this complication might be a major part of his resentment.
Besides, Sasuke has more to concern himself with, not the least of which is the minor heart-attack he has when his daugh—his son—makes a grand entrance about half an hour later, ChōChō and Himawari beaming smugly on either side.
Sarada has shorn off his long hair and bangs, leaving nothing but spiky black bristles. The horn-rimmed glasses he’s sported since childhood have been replaced with a thick, squared rim. And even though Sasuke hasn’t seen Sarada in anything resembling a dress since the age of three, the sight of loose-fitting khaki shorts and a dark blue polo are a bit jarring.
It’s like looking at himself when he was eleven.
“Oh, darling!” Sakura swoops in, tackle-hugging Sarada from behind and pressing a kiss against his temple.
“Mom, you’re choking me!” their beleaguered offspring complains, but Sasuke can tell it’s just an act. Sarada is pleased by the contact.
“Doesn’t he look great?” Sakura exclaims as they watch Sarada head over to a group of friends and cheer about the pile of waiting presents.
“Sh—He cut his hair,” Sasuke points out through gritted teeth. “Why does he need to cut his hair?”
“It’s his way of asserting his masculinity.”
“There’s nothing masculine or feminine about hair,” he protests. “None of the men in my family have cut their hair, unless they were in the service. Itachi’s is practically down to his ass, and he’s got flee-on-sight warrants in three different jurisdictions.”
Sakura’s face is set in that particular way—the “if you don’t shut up I will grab you by the short-and-curlies and twist” look he only sees when he’s doing something socially unacceptable.
In a quieter voice, Sasuke adds, “Isn’t this the sort of thing that requires parental consent?”
“It is, and we’ll discuss it with him later, after his friends have gone home,” his wife says crisply, returning to the kitchen before Ino sets it on fire.
Naruto gives him a knowing look and Sasuke snaps, “What?”
“Nothing. I just find it interesting that you’re getting upset about ancient Uchiha hair traditions. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about?”
“You’re the one who feels the need to emote everywhere. Go do that somewhere else.”
His best friend sighs and meanders away, knowing better than to push. Kakashi exhales a weary laugh and says, “For what it’s worth, I think he improved on your look. Your hair always reminded me of the back-end of a duck.”
Which Sasuke doesn’t even dignify with an answer. Instead, he wanders over to the dining room table, which has been lovingly decorated with every type of junk-food offering and warehouse-sized plate of fruit imaginable, and resentfully begins picking through it.
Across the room, Sarada is having a blast.
He takes great glee in opening presents, laughing uproariously over stereotypically boy gifts. Occasionally, he shoots a glance up at his father, showing off a video game or football gear, and rolling his eyes which makes Sasuke’s heart lift a little. Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean Sarada fits a particular mould—it’s a relief to know he’ll still probably want Sasuke to show him proper kendo form, instead of attending some brutish sports rally.
Throughout the party, Sarada’s friends are curious but open, most of them already knowing the specifics, while some still ask questions. When anything gets too close to inappropriate – such as whether Sarada intends to get surgery—Sakura is there to swoop in with small, yet pointed reminders.
“That’s a rather personal question, Yodo. If he wanted you to know that, he would tell you.”
In his corner, Boruto pretends not to listen in, but the scowl on his face isn’t as pronounced. The parents are more quiet in their curiosity; these are all old family friends, and more than one of them owes Sakura in some way. No one will say anything unkind here, and once Itachi shows up with Shisui in tow, no one will dare think it, either.
But it still makes Sasuke nervous, having to stand there and answer questions or hear comments about matters that he doesn’t truly understand himself. If his wife wasn’t so busy playing the hostess, she could be making infantile conversation, instead of him.
Somehow, the time does pass, and they eventually get to the point in festivities when Sakura and her mother carry in a huge chocolate cake, and the din becomes overwhelming. It’s amusing how a bunch of kids who insist they be treated like adults turn feral when sweets are introduced into the equation.
Sarada waits until everyone has finished a horrifying rendition of the birthday song to stand up and call for silence.
“I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for coming by today,” he says. “And for all the cool gifts. And I really want to thank my Mom and Dad for doing this because it’s been awesome.” He beams at them, and Sasuke feels Sakura appear beside him, leaning into his side. “I also wanted to share something with you guys because it is my birthday. It’s a pretty huge deal for me, and you all mean a lot to me, so I wanted you to be the first to know.”
He shifts nervously.
“So…when I was little, I asked my Mom why they called me Sarada. It’s kind of a weird name.”
“Yeah, they basically called you salad,” Boruto grumbles.
“Fuck you, Bolt.”
“Language!” Sakura snaps, her voice like a whip-crack. Every kid in the vicinity, and some parents, wince.
“Sorry, Mom,” Sarada says, ducking his head penitently before continuing on. “Anyway, Mom told me how she and Dad came up with the name. It’s made up of parts of their names, and my Uncle Itachi’s—who, if you guys don’t know, is brilliant and could probably make James Bond cry like a girl.”
Over in the corner, stuffing his face with dango, Itachi waves a stick in acknowledgement of the compliment.
“And the thing is… even though it’s a cool name, and I’m honoured to be named after these three people, it never really felt like my name. I knew I was going to have to leave it behind someday,” he continues solemnly. “It’s been a hard decision. I never really brought it up with my parents because, well, they’ve been so focussed on helping me through all of the other stuff. It never seemed like the right time. Besides, it’s been hard finding something that fit. And I didn’t want to completely forget what went in to naming me the first time, so I decided on something that still keeps alive the spirit of what my parents thought of.” He takes a deep breath. “From now on, I would prefer if you all called me Sachiro.”
It’s the first time either Sasuke or Sakura have heard the new name, even if it has been discussed.
The cheers and clapping from the guests wash over Sasuke, who flashes back to that day eleven years ago, when he and Sakura were debating names. They hadn’t been able to agree on anything in the months leading up to the birth, and now it mattered, and neither of them could think of something fitting.
He recalls how she looked, flushed and exhausted from giving birth, but so obviously happy. Her tentative suggestion of naming the baby after them both, and Itachi, who was the only reason the Uchiha family had accepted Sakura as Sasuke’s wife. How, at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything that was more appropriate.
The music and chatter seems to start up again tenfold, and Sasuke finds himself staring down into eyes that are the exact colour as his own.
“That’s okay, right, Dad?” his child asks quietly, and a little uncertain. “It’s a good name?”
Sasuke’s chest constricts a little, and he nods slowly. “Aa.”
Sara –Sachiro beams up at him. It’s the same brilliant, joyful smile of Sakura’s that Sasuke fell in love with, the same smile he’s seen when he read stories, visited the park, taught her—taught him—to swim and climb trees. Toothless, or beneath a scratched nose, or covered in mud.
A smile, he realises, that’s grown rarer over the years.
Sarada was always a little sullen, a little quiet and reserved. Sasuke always thought that sh—he—was just similar to the way Sasuke was as a kid. But right now, the way this boy beams and laughs and just exudes joy, Sasuke sees more of Sakura for the first time in almost a decade. There’s a joie de vivre there, a confidence and sense of self Sasuke has barely felt.
And the idea that he could be responsible for that smile or certainty disappearing, that’s the thing that convinces him, finally, that all of this is right. Whatever he personally feels, it’s no longer about just going along with it and humouring the situation as if it’s something that’s been done to him. It’s about his child’s happiness and frame of mind.
The realisation isn’t a happy one, per se, but it’s solid enough that Sasuke thinks he will make peace with it, eventually.
“Mom?” Sar—Sachiro is asking, bringing Sasuke back to the moment. “What do you think? It’s still got yours and Dad’s and Uncle Itachi’s name in it. I mean, the ending is a little different, but I thought—”
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Sakura says, reaching out and brushing a hand over newly-shorn hair. There’s a warble of emotion in her voice as she says it, but when Sasuke glances down at her to check, she’s already pulled away. “I’m going to get plates for the cake, all right?”
Sachiro nods, grins one last time at them, and hurries back to his friends.
Sakura crosses the room, and Sasuke is concerned to notice a stiffness in her back that wasn’t there before. She makes a beeline for the kitchen, pausing only when intercepted by Tsunade, who she greets with a wide—and false—smile and accepts a nondescript plastic bag. As she continues to the kitchen, Sasuke sees her fist clenched around the handle, knuckles white and shaking.
He isn’t the only one to notice, either. Naruto watches Sakura disappear into the kitchen and shoots a questioning glance at Sasuke. They’ve all known each other since they were toddlers which means he knows as well as Sasuke when something is wrong. Without words, he communicates to his friend to keep an eye on things, and follows his wife.
うちは
He finds her standing over the sink, fingers clenching the metal, her shoulders shaking.
“Sakura?”
There’s a sharp inhale and she straightens up, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Oh. Darling, you’re here. Did you need something?”
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing! Nothing. I’m just…cutting more onions for the dip.”
It’s an utterly different story from before, made all the more unbelievable by the fact that there are no onions anywhere in the house.
“Sakura…”
“Tsunade stopped by from the hospital,” she goes on, making a vague gesture toward the kitchen table. The plastic bag Sasuke saw earlier has been casually tossed there. “She knew we were so busy with everything, so she filled the prescription for the… for the blockers.”
Sasuke tenses, staring at the package with renewed understanding. They’ve had discussions in the past weeks, as Sarada grew closer and closer to making the official, full-time transition. There were mentions of intervening before the onset of puberty, recommendations from the psychiatrist to get started now while they wait for official permission to start him on testosterone injections, but—
Looking at the nondescript plastic bag, Sasuke can’t help a resurgence of his apprehension.
He knows it’s only a temporary measure; in theory, it’s like a pause button, a chance for Sachiro to be absolutely sure before any actual commitments are made. There are still many more milestones in the future; this one isn’t even the most important. But it still unnerves him. Judging from Sakura’s shakiness, she’s affected too, even though she tries to chat like normal.
“We can give them to h-him tonight, or…or maybe giftwrap them and add it to the present pile? It would be a nice surprise, I think…don’t you think?”
She sounds like she really wants his opinion on this, and he opens his mouth to agree, to disagree, to do something, but it feels like his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. He’s only just had his personal revelation on the subject. Before this, he’s kept himself out of any major decisions, and she’s aware of this. Why the hell does she want him involved in this one? She’s the one who’s been so keen on pursuing all of this, why—
There’s a sudden choking sob.
Before he can really parse what he’s seeing, Sakura’s face seems to crumple, her bright eyes and trembling smile imploding into a look of horror.
“What are we doing?” she whispers, and shaking fingertips go to her lips. “Oh, Sasuke, what are we doing? What if this is wrong? What if…” She emits a staggered sob. “People understand here, but what if she…what if he wants to go somewhere else. For college. For work. People can hurt him—you’ve read the stories in the paper. What if that happens to our…”
She trails off in a moan, and tears are now leaking from the corners of her eyes, her voice getting higher and more panicked in pitch.
“We’re rushing this—I feel like we’re rushing this—”
“Sakura…” he begins, reaching for her, but she evades his touch, pacing now.
“Sh-she said she needed this, and everything she asked for, everything she asked us to do, I did, but maybe we should have talked more first—four years isn’t that long, maybe…maybe it’s a mistake, maybe we’re not doing the right thing—”
“Sakura—”
“Why couldn’t she just be gay?” she whispers suddenly, rounding on him with wild eyes. In her panic, she is no longer able to use the correct pronouns. “This would…this would just be so much easier if she just liked girls, because then she…then we wouldn’t…”
“Didn’t you tell me it isn’t the same thing?” he asks, tentative and uncertain.
“I know it’s not!” she snaps, and then presses her fist against her mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs that now rack her body. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You did not do anything wrong,” he informs her, taking her by the shoulder now and squeezing in reassurance.
But his wife doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, she looks off into the distance.
“And the name,” she continues in a whisper. “I knew there would be a point when we…but…but Sarada was our miracle. She was our little g-girl and I’ll never get to say her n-name anymore. And she...didn’t even ask and I…I mean, is it…is it wrong that I should want a say in m-my own child’s name?”
Sasuke exhales, drawing Sakura into his arms and holding her close. “No.”
“I h-had a daughter, Sasuke,” she sobs into his shoulder. “I g-gave birth to a girl, and she was beautiful and w-wonderful and…and do you remember that first year? With the ladybug dress, and the s-strappy shoes?”
“I do.”
“And the way she would pretend her mattress was a magic carpet and ride it down the stairs, and I…I know we said we did this for her—him. We’re doing this for him, so he can be healthier and happier. And I’m trying my hardest to let h-him be who he is, but why…why does it feel like I’m killing her?”
The question is so raw, so wracked with pain, that for a split second, Sasuke wants to call everything off. His wife is hurting, and the event going on in the other room is causing it, and since he was seventeen years old, his life has revolved around ensuring the Sakura does not hurt.
But since he was twenty-two, his life has also revolved around ensuring his child does not hurt either.
He knows that if he walks in there now, telling everyone to return home—or even just calls Sa – Sachiro in and points out that his mother, the one who has been a pillar of support since the beginning, is having second thoughts, it will break him.
And his…his son is the kind of person who will accept a lifetime of misery if he thinks it will save someone he cares about a little pain. If it’s someone Sachiro loves with the same fierce devotion as he does Sakura, he’ll quietly go back into the closet and never say another word about it until his dying day.
And from the articles that Sasuke has read over his wife’s shoulder, that’s something that could come much sooner than later.
The idea is chilling.
Which is why it only takes another split second for Sasuke to pull out his phone and send a text to Kakashi and Naruto, both of whom are as protective of his child as he is and order them to keep everything running smoothly. Then he leads a still-shaking Sakura up the stairs to their room.
Shutting the door, he steers her to their bed and sits her down, then silently takes the place beside her. For a long while, he simply allows her to cry, holding her until she gets past the wordless, grief-filled sobs.
When he senses her coming back to herself, he takes up the conversation as if there was no break.
“You are not killing anyone,” he tells her quietly but firmly.
“But she’s still going to be gone,” Sakura says dully. “It’s almost worse.”
“You don’t mean that.”
She swallows. “No. I don’t. But I… Sometimes, I still feel like our daughter is…dead. And we’re supposed to replace her with this…this stranger.”
It is the first time Sasuke has heard his wife utter any of this, the first time he’s heard her insinuate that she is just as uncertain of this whole situation as he is, that she has doubts. And it’s the first time that he finds himself in the position where he has to be the one with the answers.
He has no idea what to do, but it’s clear silence is not the answer in this case.
Stick to the facts, he decides. He’s better at logic than emotion.
“That child downstairs is still our child,” he tells her firmly. “The child you carried inside you. Everything you love about that child is still there, whether we have a boy or a girl. And our son is happy which means we’re doing the right thing.”
Sakura sniffs. “You’re just saying that,” she mutters. “I know you haven’t been completely on board about this.”
“I haven’t,” he agrees. “I’m still not sure that I completely understand. But I do know that Sar—Sachiro is happy. And he’s safe. And protected. And accepted by his friends, our neighbours, and most of the town. And that’s because of you. He wouldn’t have even this much anywhere else. And if he were growing up the way I did, he wouldn’t have any of it. He would be miserable.”
“I know,” she whispers. “I know that, Sasuke. In my heart I know it, but every so often, right when I’m least expecting it, there’s just this moment. And I just feel it all—all over again. I can’t say anything, especially not to S-Sachiro. It would crush him. And if anyone else thought I wasn’t supporting him, maybe they’d stop supporting him, and—”
“Then you tell me,” Sasuke interrupts her.
She glances at him in surprise. “What?”
“You’re supposed to tell me these things,” he continues, dogged. “I can only guess you haven’t because you thought, if you wavered, I’d put a stop to this whole thing.”
“I-I didn’t mean to…”
“You might’ve been right,” he concedes. “But that was before. I’m also the only person in this whole situation who’s going through the same thing as you. From now on, you tell me when you’re feeling like this. It’s not healthy for you to keep it inside. Isn’t that what you say to me?”
“Sasuke…”
“Did you…want me to set up a meeting?” he suggests, tentatively because this next bit is definitely not his strong suit. “With the therapist?”
She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes. “Yeah. Yes. But I’ll make the appointment.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“You hate talking to therapists,” she points out.
“If you want me there, I’ll be there.”
“…I want you there.”
“Then that’s settled.”
They are silent for a while, just sitting quietly together, her ear pressed against his heart and his fingers stroking her hair in comfort. For just a few precious minutes, they can be two parents struggling with a change that has been a long time coming, but which neither has been truly prepared for.
Eventually, Sakura breaks the silence. “We should go back downstairs before we’re missed.”
“Hm.”
“If Sar—Sachiro comes looking for us, we’ll have some explaining to do.”
“You could take your top off. That would forestall any questions.”
“Sasuke!”
She smacks him a little more than lightly on the shoulder, but there’s a hint of her smile from earlier back on her face. He considers it a win.
“Do you think this will all turn out all right?” she asks, tentative. “He’ll be okay?”
“I don’t know. But I believe his chances are better if he’s secure in the knowledge that he has our support.”
“Yeah…” Sakura inhales a deep, shaky breath and squares her shoulders. “All right. Let’s go back down,” she says with only a little less of her usual certainty. She catches sight of herself in the bedroom mirror and frowns. “Everyone will know I was crying. I look horrible.”
“Don’t fish for compliments,” he tells her because they both know that he always finds her beautiful. He takes her by the hand and leads her from the room. “Besides, we can always say you were cutting onions.”
終わり
Apologies if I got anything horribly wrong, this was a difficult piece to write and I did my best to do so with the proper respect.
Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, but if you feel like keeping me caffeinated out of the goodness of your heart, it certainly would be appreciated! I’m also starting to post original works to my patreon.
I’m only able to keep writing as I do thanks to the support of readers like you, so every bit helps!
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#trans!sarada#ftm sarada#gender dysphoria#fanfiction#sasuke doesn't get ir right away#sakura has a moment of doubt#trans character#trans male character#difficult conversations#the right thing is not always easy#struggling to understand#hurt/comfort#parents coping#transitioning#support#sasusaku#ssfest17#prompt: it's a boy#translivesmatter#transfamiliesmatter
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Metamorphosis
Summary: It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she – he – was not a girl. [Day 13 – Prompt: “It’s A Boy” ]
Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. Seriously, just don’t do it.
General Warnings: I can’t believe I need to have a warning for this, but we live in a time where people can be horrid little monsters. There are LGBTQ themes in this story. There is a transgender character, and the story deals with some of concerns and difficulties that families, especially parents, of a transgender child deal with. If you are uncomfortable with this subject matter in anyway, you are welcome to click the “back” button and wait around for my next prompt. Nasty comments about my choice in subject matter will be ignored, and possibly mocked.
Trigger Warning: For those of you who actually are LGBTQ, this story may bring up some strong emotions. My best friend/surrogate brother/braintwin had some difficulty reading this chapter for me and as it hit on some of his own experiences and challenges coming out as transgender. He made sure I knew how important it was to tag this appropriately. Though he said this story was well-written, as someone who had dealt with the scenario personally, he didn’t like it. So if you have experienced something in your life where you are caused distress by reading about parents trying to come to terms with their transgender child do not read this story. I don’t want to cause mental anguish or reopen wounds that some of you might not have had a chance to heal yet.
Author’s Note: The minute I saw this prompt I knew this was the story I was going to write. There aren’t enough fics out there dealing with transgender kids coming out, and even fewer about what the parents (even the most supportive ones) go through behind closed doors. I’ve done my best to be delicate with the subject without sacrificing any of my usual style choices. Obviously, not every experience is the same from individual to individual, but I made every effort. And just to head off any comments about my own personal stand on the matter: I support transgender individuals and their rights. I believe that it is your mind and your soul that determines who you are, not your genitals. And while I am not perfect, and I still occasionally slip up with pronouns and accidentally say things which show my privilege as a cisgender woman, I stand by the transgender community. Especially in this time, when hatred and outrage are directed at across the entire world. The views expressed in this story are not all necessarily mine – in fact, there are several ideas that were difficult for me to put to paper, because I very much don’t agree with them. But based on my research, for good or ill, they are sentiments that have been expressed by parents when a child comes out. I only hope I have managed to treat the subject matter with respect and possibly given you, my readers, something to think on. You may not like Sasuke in this story. You may not like Sakura. That’s okay. I’m hoping to showcase that even the people we care deeply for (whether real or imaginary) can do some things we don’t necessarily like or agree with. Doing the right thing is not always as easy, and some people find it harder than others, but in the end it is worth it. No one should weight their personal discomforts or prejudices against another person’s happiness and right to thrive.
______________________________________________
Sasuke stares up at the large, draping banner in his living room while bunches of blue helium balloons meander along the ceiling, nearly obscuring the clock that ticks closer and closer to the inevitable. He has to consciously rein in the desire to set it all on fire.
He hates parties. Always has, always will. Even knowing that this is for his kid isn’t much of an incentive to relax, because he finds that hard to do under normal circumstances.
Naruto would say that that’s because he’s got a pole shoved up his ass, but then, Naruto’s judgement is questionable. It’s been that way since childhood, JSDF, Iraq and then the stint in the Okayama bomb squad seven years ago which resulted in them both losing an arm.
Then again, his questionable judgement is also the reason Sasuke was even alive to having a kid and throw ridiculous, superhero themed birthday parties in the first place, so he gets a pass.
This time.
The entire foyer has been decorated with streamers and decals of the latest comic craze to hit television. Interspersed along the wall are little cape-clad figures proudly proclaiming, “It’s a Boy!”.
Honestly, it’s utterly kitschy and targeted for a much younger demographic than an eleven-year-old, but then, today isn’t an ordinary birthday.
It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she – he – was not a girl. It was an announcement which, Sasuke maintains, caused him considerable confusion and, if he’s not lying, a little resentment.
He comes from a traditional background. His ancestors were samurai of note, and the Uchiha name means a lot in their small community of Konoha. An old, founding family with traditions and taboos and expectations. The idea of these “LGBTQ issues” that his wife and child keep talking about falls very naturally under the umbrella of what Sasuke was brought up to categorise as “don’t ask, don’t tell”.
Men and women among the Uchiha may take lovers of the same sex if they wish, as long as they fulfil their duties to the clan: namely get married and produce children. Hell, his own brother has been in a twenty-year relationship with a male masseuse, but Itachi still had the wherewithal to get married and produce two kids first.
The point is, it’s not talked about.
It is how everything has always been done. And in just the same way, among his family, members of the Uchiha play the role they are assigned by birth. A man has his place, as does a woman. The idea of operating outside of those very separate spheres, let alone the idea of a man being born into the body of a woman, is nonsensical to him.
To say Sasuke had instant reservations would be putting it lightly.
If he were a man of a different temperament – a man like his father – his first instinct would be to point out to his child the impossibility of the situation, and if that failed, attempt to find some counsel to get over it. A very, very small part of him continues to be tempted to do just that. The other part – the one that has travelled the world and been exposed to many different lifestyles, the one who has struggled with his own demons, both addiction and the trauma of active combat, the one who married one of the most open-minded women in existence –
That part tells him to keep his fucking mouth shut and go along with it for the sake of his family.
If it weren’t for Sakura, he doesn’t think he could manage it.
His wife reacted to the announcement with the same sympathy and open-mindedness he’s seen her display at every major milestone, like the time Sarada shamefacedly admitted to perhaps needing glasses or when some of their Uchiha cousins throw around insults about “commoner blood”. In every case, Sakura is always the calm and comforting one, the one ending her assurances with, “We love you no matter what.”
In her usual whirlwind manner, after hearing Sarada’s announcement, she made it her personal mission to ensure their child’s needs were met completely. Because of the nature of her job, she was already very knowledgeable about it all, to the point of being matter-of-fact.
“No matter what, the important thing here is to show that we support him from the beginning,” she insisted.
Suddenly the house was filled with every book possibly written on the subject, and every other day she was on the phone with some expert or other. For four years, she organised psychological and psychiatric consultations, fought for an official diagnosis of gender identity disorder, had them attend individual and family counselling sessions, schooled Sasuke in using the proper pronouns, had them all meet with a sexologist –
And woe betide anyone – friends or even family members – who questioned her decision to support Sarada. There’s a reason that Sasuke’s family, with the exception of Itachi, will be conspicuously absent from today’s festivities.
It’s another one of Sakura’s ideas, a formal show of support, as Sarada has decided the time is right to live as a boy from now on.
They have told a select few people, with Sarada’s permission, over the years – the respective grandparents, Naruto and Kakashi and their families, Sarada’s teachers and her best friend ChoCho – but today is the official “coming out”. Sakura was seconds from taking out an ad in the damned newspaper before Sasuke and Sarada stopped her.
He wonders if there’s such a thing as being too supportive.
“How are you doing with all this?”
Sasuke glances to one side, notices Kakashi eyeing him knowingly. His former bomb squad captain and mentor is always observant. Today is one of those days Sasuke wishes he wasn’t.
“Fine,” he replies neutrally, taking a sip of tea. He isn’t actually thirsty, but he just needs something to occupy his hand and mouth.
“And Sarada?”
“Fine.”
Kakashi sighs in annoyance. “Is there any point to asking how Sakura’s doing?”
They both glance through the door to the kitchen, where Sasuke’s wife is fighting with Ino about pretzel-to-chip ratios (“Don’t you dare fuck up my child’s birthday party, Pig!” “You’re the one who can’t manage proper place-settings for shit!).
“She’s in her element,” he replies simply.
“Man, I’ve got so much respect for you guys,” Naruto says with a low whistle, and then takes a chug of his own beer. “I don’t even know what I’d do if it were my kid.”
Sasuke rolls his eyes. “You’d be doing the same thing I’m doing, moron. Only more panicking and oversharing.”
“Very funny,” Naruto replies with a scowl, but then his face relaxes into earnestness. “I’m not so sure. I mean, yeah, in theory I’d like to say I would, but in reality… It’s just weird. I mean, one day, you have Sarada, and the next day…well, the next day you have him.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Sasuke replies shortly.
Any further rumination on the topic is cut off when the doorbell rings.
“I’ve got it!” Sakura sings, flying from the kitchen to greet their first guests.
“Shouldn’t Sarada get the door?” he inquires. “It’s his party, after all.”
“He’s busy. ChoCho said something about a surprise,” his wife answers, hauling open the door and exclaiming her delight at the first guests.
Sasuke sighs, squares his shoulders, and prepares for the longest afternoon of his life.
うちは
The atmosphere in the beginning of the party is pleasant, but there is a definite undercurrent of curiosity and uncertainty beneath the requisite excitement.
When Hinata arrives with Boruto and Himawari, the latter chirps a sunny hello to Sasuke and bounds upstairs to find Sarada. As in all things, she is utterly unaffected by the whole mater. To her, life is simple: yesterday it was sunny, today it’s overcast.
Sarada was a girl, now he is a boy.
In contrast, Boruto skulks in, glowers at everyone, and goes to sit in the farthest corner with his handheld gaming device. Naruto scowls at him, and when Sasuke raised an eyebrow, he shrugs, and confides in a low voice, “He’s having some trouble adjusting. Sarada’s his best friend. Even knowing this was coming…I don’t think he actually thought it would.”
Neither of them mention the fact that Naruto’s son has always had a crush on Sarada, and that this complication might be a major part of his resentment.
Besides, Sasuke has more to concern himself with, not least of all the minor heart-attack he has when his d – his son – makes a grand entrance about half an hour later, with ChoCho and Himawari beaming smugly on either side.
Sarada has shorn off his long hair and bangs, leaving nothing but spiky black bristles. The horn-rimmed glasses he has sported since childhood have been replaced with a thick, squared rim. And even though Sasuke hasn’t seen Sarada in anything resembling a dress since the age of three, the sight of loose-fitting khaki shorts and dark blue polo are a bit jarring.
It’s like looking at himself when he was eleven.
“Oh, darling!” Sakura swoops over, tackle-hugging Sarada from behind and pressing a kiss against his temple.
“Mom, you’re choking me!” their beleaguered offspring complains, but Sasuke can tell it’s just an act. He’s pleased by the contact.
“Doesn’t he look great?” Sakura exclaims as they watch Sarada head over to a group of friends and cheer about the pile of waiting presents.
“Sh – He cut his hair,” Sasuke points out through gritted teeth. “Why does he need to cut his hair?”
“It’s his way of asserting his masculinity.”
“There’s nothing masculine or feminine about hair,” he protests. “None of the men in my family have cut their hair unless they were in service. Itachi’s is practically down to his ass, and he’s got flee on-sight-warrants in three different jurisdictions.”
Sakura’s face is set in that particular way – the “if you don’t shut up I will grab you by the short-and-curlies-and-twist” look he only sees when he’s doing something socially unacceptable.
In a quieter voice, Sasuke adds, “Isn’t this the sort of thing that requires parental consent?”
“It is, and we’ll discuss it with him later after his friends have gone home,” his wife says crisply, returning to the kitchen before Ino sets it on fire.
Naruto gives him a knowing look, and Sasuke snaps, “What?”
“Nothing. I just find it interesting that you’re getting upset about ancient Uchiha hair traditions. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about?”
“You’re the one who feels the need to emote everywhere. So go do that somewhere else.”
His best friend sighs at that, and meanders away, knowing better than to push. Kakashi exhales a weary laugh and says, “For what it’s worth, I think he improved on your look. Your hair always reminded me of the back-end of a duck.”
Which Sasuke doesn’t even dignify with an answer. Instead, he wanders over to the dining room table, which has been lovingly decorated with every type of junk-food offering and warehouse-sized plate of fruit imaginable, and resentfully begins picking through it.
Across the room, Sarada is having a blast.
He takes great glee in opening presents, laughing uproariously over stereotypically boy gifts. Occasionally he shoots a glance up at his father, showing off a video game or football gear, and rolling his eyes, which makes Sasuke’s heart life a little. Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean Sarada fits a particular mould – it’s a relief to know he’ll still probably want Sasuke to show him proper kendo form instead of attending some brutish sports rally.
Throughout the party, Sarada’s friends are curious but open, most of them already knowing the specifics, while some still ask questions. When anything gets too close to inappropriate – such as whether Sarada intends to get surgery – Sakura is there to swoop in with small, yet pointed reminders.
“That’s a rather personal question, Shinki. If he wanted you to know that, he would tell you.”
In his corner, Boruto pretends not to listen in, but the scowl on his face isn’t as pronounced. The parents are more quiet in their curiosity – these are all old family friends, and more than one of them owes Sakura in some way. No one will say anything unkind here, and once Itachi shows up with Shisui in tow, no one will dare think it either.
But it still makes Sasuke nervous, having to stand there and answer questions or hear comments about matters that he doesn’t truly understand himself. If his wife wasn’t so busy playing the hostess, she could be making infantile conversation instead of him.
Somehow, the time does pass, and they eventually get to the point in festivities when Sakura and her mother carry in a huge chocolate cake, and the din becomes overwhelming. It’s amusing how a bunch of kids that insist they be treated like adults turn feral when sweets are introduced to the equation.
Sarada waits until everyone has finished a horrifying rendition of the birthday song, and then stands up and calls for silence.
“I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for coming by today,” he says. “And for all the cool gifts. And I really want to thank my Mom and Dad for doing this, because it’s been awesome.” He beams at them, and Sasuke feels Sakura appear beside him, leaning into his side. “I also wanted to share something with you guys, because it is my birthday. It’s a pretty huge deal for me, and you all mean a lot to me, so I wanted you to be the first to know.”
He shifts nervously.
“So…when I was little, I asked my Mom why they called me ‘Sarada’. It’s kind of weird name.”
“Yeah, they basically called you “salad”,” Boruto grumbles.
“Fuck you, Bolt.”
“Language!” Sakura snaps, her voice like a whip-crack. Every kid in the vicinity, and some parents, wince.
“Sorry, Mom,” Sarada says, ducking his head penitently before continuing on. “Anyway, Mom told me how she and Dad came up with the name. That it’s made up of parts of their names, and my Uncle Itachi – who, if you guys don’t know, is brilliant and could probably make James Bond cry like a girl.”
Over in the corner, stuffing his face with dango, Itachi waves a stick in acknowledgement of the compliment.
“And the thing is… even though it’s a cool name, and I’m honoured to be named after these three people, it never really felt like my name. I knew I was going to have to leave it behind someday,” he continues solemnly. “It’s been a hard decision. I never really brought it up with my parents because, well, they’ve been so focussed on helping me through all of the other stuff. It never seemed like the right time. Besides, it’s has been hard finding something that fit. And I didn’t want to completely forget what went in to naming me the first time, so I decided on something that still keeps the spirit of what my parents thought of alive.” He takes a deep breath. “From now on, I would prefer if you all called me Sachiro.”
It’s the first time either he or Sakura have heard the new name, even if it has been discussed.
The cheers and clapping from the guests wash over Sasuke, who flashes back to that day, eleven years ago, when he and Sakura were debating names. They hadn’t been able to agree on anything in the months leading up to the birth, and now it mattered, and neither of them could think of something fitting.
How she looked, flushed and exhausted from giving birth, but so obviously happy. Her tentative suggestion of naming the baby after them both, and Itachi, who was the only reason the Uchiha family had accepted Sakura as Sasuke’s wife. How at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything that was more appropriate.
The music and chatter seems to start up again tenfold, and Sasuke finds himself staring down into eyes that are the exact colour of his own.
“That’s okay, right, Dad?” his child ask quietly, and a little uncertain. “It’s a good name?”
Sasuke’s chest constricts a little, and he nods slowly. “Hm.”
Sara – Sachiro – beams up at him. It’s the same brilliant, joyful smile of Sakura’s that Sasuke fell in love with, the same smile he has seen when he read stories, visited the park, taught her – taught him – to swim and climb trees. Toothless, or beneath a scratched nose, or covered in mud.
A smile, he realises not, that grew rarer over the years.
Sarada has always been a little sullen, a little quiet and reserved. Sasuke always thought that she – he –was just similar to the way he was when he was a kid. But right now, the way this boy beams and laughs and just exudes joy, Sasuke sees more of Sakura for the first time in almost a decade. There’s a joie de vivre there, a confidence and sense of self Sasuke has barely felt.
And the idea that he could be responsible for that smile or certainty disappearing, that’s the thing that convinces him, finally, that all of this is right. Whatever he personally feels, it’s no longer about just going along with it and humouring the situation, as if it’s something that has been done to him. It’s about his child’s happiness and frame of mind.
The realisation isn’t a happy one, per se, but it’s solid enough that Sasuke thinks he will make peace with it, eventually.
“Mom?” Sa – Sachiro is asking, bringing Sasuke back to the moment. “What do you think? It’s still got yours and Dad’s and Uncle Itachi’s name in it. I mean, the ending is a little different, but I thought –”
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Sakura says, reaching out and brushing a hand over newly shorn hair. There’s a warble of emotion in her voice as she says it, but when Sasuke glances down at her to check, she’s already pulled away. “I’m going to go get plates for the cake, alright?”
Sachiro nods, grins one last time at them, and hurries back to his friends.
Sakura crosses the room, and Sasuke is concerned to notice a stiffness in her back that wasn’t there before. She makes a beeline for the kitchen, pausing only when intercepted by Tsunade, who she greets with a wide – And false, he notices smile – and accepts a nondescript plastic bag. As she continues to the kitchen, Sasuke sees her fist clenched around the handle, knuckles white and shaking.
He isn’t the only one to notice, either. Naruto watches Sakura disappear into the kitchen and shoots a questioning glance at Sasuke. They’ve all known each other since they were toddlers, which means he knows as well as Sasuke when something is wrong. Without words, Sasuke communicates to his friend to keep an eye on things, and follows his wife.
うちは
He finds her standing over the sink, fingers clenching the metal, her shoulders shaking.
“Sakura?”
There’s a sharp inhale and she straightens up, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Oh, Sasuke, you’re here – did you need something?”
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing! Nothing, I’m just…cutting more onions for the dip.”
It’s an utterly different story from before, made all the more unbelievable by the fact that there are no onions anywhere in the house.
“Sakura…”
“Tsunade stopped by from the hospital,” she goes on, and makes a vague gesture to the kitchen table. The plastic bag Sasuke saw earlier has been casually tossed there. “She knew we were so busy with everything, so she filled the prescription for the… for the blockers.”
Sasuke tenses, staring at the package with renewed understanding. They’ve had discussions in the past weeks, as Sarada grew closer and closer to making the official, full-time transition. There were mentions of intervening before the onset of puberty, recommendations from the psychiatrist to get started now while they wait for official permission to start him on testosterone injections, but –
Looking at the nondescript plastic bag, Sasuke can’t help a resurgence of his apprehension.
He knows it’s only a temporary measure – in theory, it’s like a pause button, a chance for Sachiro to be absolutely sure before any actual commitments are made. There are still many more milestones in the future, this one isn’t even the most important.
But it still unnerves him; judging from Sakura’s shakiness, she is affected too, even though she tries to chat like normal.
“We can give them to h-him tonight, or…or maybe gift-wrap them, and add it to the present pile? It would be a nice surprise, I think…don’t you think?”
She sounds like she really wants his opinion on this, and he opens his mouth to agree, to disagree, to do something, but it feels like his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. He has only just had his personal revelation on the subject matter. Before this he’s kept himself out of any major decisions, and she’s aware of this. Why the hell does she want him involved in this one? She’s the one who has been so keen on pursuing all of this, why –
There’s a sudden choking sob.
Before he can really parse what he’s seeing, Sakura’s face seems to crumple, her bright eyes and trembling smile imploding into a look of horror.
“What are we doing?” she whispers, and shaking fingertips go to her lips. “Oh, Sasuke, what are we doing? What if this is wrong? What if…?” She emits a staggered sob. “People understand here, but what if she…what if he wants to go somewhere else. For college. For work. People can hurt him – you’ve read the stories in the paper, what if that happens to our…”
She trails off in a moan, and tears are now leaking from the corners of her eyes, her voice getting higher and more panicked in pitch.
“We’re rushing this – I feel like we’re rushing this –”
“Sakura…” he begins, reaching for her, but she evades his touch, pacing now.
“Sh-she said she needed this, and everything she asked for, everything she asked us to do, I did, but maybe we should have talked more first – four years isn’t that long, maybe…maybe it’s a mistake, maybe we’re not doing the right thing –”
“Sakura –”
“Why couldn’t she just be gay?” she cries suddenly, rounding on him with wild eyes. In her panic, she is no longer able to use the correct pronouns. “This would…this would just be so much easier if she just liked girls, because then she…then we wouldn’t…”
“Didn’t you tell me it isn’t the same thing?” he asks, tentative and uncertain.
“I know it’s not!” she snaps, and then presses her fist against her mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs that now rack her body. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You did not do anything wrong,” he informs her, taking her by the shoulder now and squeezing in reassurance.
But his wife doesn’t seem to notice, instead looks off into the distance.
“And the name,” she continues in a whisper. “I knew there would be a point when we…but…but Sarada was our miracle. She was our little g-girl and I’ll never get to say her n-name anymore, and she…didn’t even ask and I…I mean, is it…is it wrong that I should want a say in m-my own child’s name?”
Sasuke exhales, drawing Sakura into his arms and holding her close. “No.”
“I h-had a daughter, Sasuke,” she sobs into his shoulder. “I g-gave birth to a girl, and she was beautiful and w-wonderful and…and do you remember that first year? With the ladybug dress, and the s-strappy shoes?”
“I do.”
“And the way she would pretend her mattress was a magic carpet and ride it down the stairs, and I…I know we said we did this for her – him. We’re doing this for him, so he can be healthier, and happier and I’m trying my hardest to let h-him be who he is, but why…why does it feel like I’m killing her?”
The question is so raw, so wrecked with pain, that for a split second Sasuke wants to call everything off. His wife is hurting, and the event going on in the other room is causing it, and since he was seventeen, his life has revolved around ensuring the Sakura does not hurt.
But since he was twenty-two, his life has also revolved around ensuring his child does not hurt.
He knows that if he walks in there now, telling everyone to return home – or even just calls Sa – Sachiro in and points out that his mother – the one who has been a pillar of support since the beginning – is having second thoughts, it will break him. And his…his son is the kind of person that will accept a lifetime of misery if he thinks it will save someone he cares about a little pain.
If it’s someone Sachiro loves with the same fierce devotion as he does Sakura, he’ll quietly go back into the closet and never say another word about it until his dying day.
And from the articles that Sasuke has read over his wife’s shoulder, that’s something that could come much sooner than later.
The idea is chilling.
Which is why it only takes another split second for Sasuke to pull out his phone and send a text to Kakashi and Naruto – both of whom are as protective of his child as he is – and orders them to keep everything running smoothly. Then, he leads a still shaking Sakura up the stairs and back to their room.
Shutting the door, he leads her to their bed and sits her down, then silently takes the place beside her. For a long while, he simply allows her to cry, holding her until she gets past the wordless, grief-filled sobs.
When he senses her coming back to herself, he takes up the conversation as if there was no break.
“You are not killing anyone,” he tells her, quietly but firmly.
“But she’s still going to be gone,” Sakura says dully. “It’s almost worse.”
“You don’t mean that.”
She swallows. “No. I don’t. But I…sometimes, I still feel like our daughter is…dead. And we’re supposed to replace her with this…this stranger.”
It is the first time Sasuke has heard his wife utter any of this. The first time he has heard her insinuate that she is just as uncertain of this whole situation as he is, that she has doubts. And it’s the first time that he finds himself in the position where he has to be the one with the answers.
He has no idea what to do, but it’s clear silence is not the answer in this case.
Stick to the facts, he decides. He’s better at logic than emotion.
“That child downstairs is still our child,” he tells her firmly. “The child you carried inside you. Everything you love about that child is still there, whether we have a boy or a girl. And our son is happy, which means we are doing the right thing.”
Sakura sniffs.
“You’re just saying that,” she mutters. “I know you haven’t been completely on board about this.”
“I haven’t,” he agrees. “I’m still not sure that I completely understand. But I do know that Sa – Sachiro is happy. And he’s safe. And protected. And accepted by his friends, our neighbours and most of the town, and that is because of you. He would not have even this much anywhere else. And if he were growing up the way I did, he wouldn’t have any of it. He would be miserable.”
“I know,” she whispers. “I know that, Sasuke, in my heart I know it, but every so often, right when I’m least expecting it, there’s just this moment. And I just feel it all, all over again. And I can’t say anything, especially not to S-Sachiro. It would crush him. And if anyone else thought I wasn’t supporting him, then maybe they’d stop supporting him, and –”
“Then you tell me,” Sasuke interrupts her.
She glances at him in surprise. “What?”
“You’re supposed to tell me these things,” he continues, dogged. “I can only guess you haven’t for that exact reason. You thought if you wavered, I’d put a stop to this whole thing.”
“I-I didn’t mean to…”
“You might have been right,” he concedes. “But that was before. I’m also the only person in this whole situation that is going through the same thing as you. From now on, you tell me when you’re feeling like this. It’s not healthy for you to keep it inside – isn’t that what you used to say to me?”
“Sasuke…”
“Did you…want to me to set up a meeting?” he suggests, tentatively, because this next bit is definitely not his strong point. “With the therapist?”
She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes. “Yeah. Yes. But I’ll make the appointment.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“You hate talking to therapists,” she points out.
“If you want me there, I’ll be there.”
“…I want you there.”
“Then that’s settled.”
They are silent for a while, just sitting quietly together, her ear pressed against his heart and his fingers stroking her hair in comfort. For just a few precious minutes, they can be two parents struggling with a change that has been a long time coming, but which neither has been truly prepared for.
Eventually, Sakura breaks the silence. “We should go back downstairs before we’re missed.”
“Hm.”
“If Sa- Sachiro comes looking for us, we’ll have some explaining to do.”
“You should take your top off. That would forestall any questions.”
“Sasuke!”
She smacks him a little more than lightly in the shoulder, but there is a hint of her smile from her earlier back on her face. He considers it a win.
“Do you think this will all turn out?” she asks, tentative. “He’ll be okay, right?”
“I don’t know. But I believe his chances are better, secure in the knowledge that he has our support.”
“Yeah…”
Sakura inhales a deep, shaky breath and squares her shoulders.
“Alright. Let’s go back down,” she says, with only a little less of her usual certainty. She catches sight of herself in the bedroom mirror, and frowns. “Everyone will know I was crying. I look horrible.”
“Don’t fish for compliments,” he tells her, because they both know he always finds her beautiful. He takes her by the hand and leads her from the room. “Besides, we can always say you were cutting onions.”
_____________________________________________
終わり
Apologies if I got anything horribly wrong, this was a difficult piece to write. As usual, as part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated!
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