Chapter 39

Something cold and heavy was dropped neatly in to his hands. He felt it with his fingertips, tracing the edges of the object, noting its texture and bulk. It was cool to the touch, and was made out of metal; one end was long and pointed, with sharp edges and pointed corners, while the other end was clearly a handle, a ring at the end for fastening to a belt or pouch.

"It's a kunai," he told her, holding it out for her to take again, "That one was a little too obvious."

"Oh, I was expecting you to be able to recognize it," she replied, a mischievous hint in her voice, but she did not take back the kunai, "You would lose all my respect for you as a ninja if you didn't realize it was a kunai. But this one is special. Tell me what makes it different from a regular kunai."

He paused for a moment then turned the kunai over in his hands once again. The balance of blade to hilt was fine; the edges were sharp and well kept; the handle was smooth and unused from what he could tell. It was when he ran his fingertips over the flat of the blade that Sasuke came across something unusual.

"There's something written on the side," he said as his fingers ran over the grooves the formed the characters.

"Can you tell me what it says?" she asked him, "It's okay if you can't—I don't expect your fingers to be that sensitive yet, but…"

Running his fingers over the edges, he felt for familiar shapes, something that would give him some indication as to what was written. After a few moments he managed to discern the segment, but while the second part was slightly familiar, he could not make out what it said.

"This part," he told her, brushing his thumb over the interpreted sections, "says 'Uchiha'. The second part I can't quite make out."

"It says: 'Fugaku'," Sakura replied kindly, "Was that the name of your father?"

"Hai…" he replied slowly, holding the kunai in his hands.

He remembered that kunai, now that he realized what it was. His father had shown it to him once, saying that he had inherited one from his own father when he came of age.

You'll receive this one when you are old enough, Sasuke. And when you have children of your own, you'll give them a kunai with your name inscribed upon it. Such the Uchiha have done for generations.

The pride he had felt back then, knowing that he would receive that kunai from his father was indescribable. Itachi had already gotten his, and he had been very jealous, but he knew that he would get his own kunai from his father one day, and that was good enough for him.

But that day had never come.

He closed his hands over the kunai, holding it tightly within his palms, so firmly that it bordered on cutting into his fingers.

"Sasuke?" he heard Sakura say timidly after a few moments, "Is something wrong?"

"Iie," he replied shortly, sounding colder than he had intended to. After a moment he loosened the grasp on the kunai and offered it back to Sakura, "Take good care of it when you're returning it back to my house."

He felt the fingers of her hand brush gently over his palms as she took the kunai back. "Of course," her voice was tender.

"Arigato," he responded, and rested his arms on his knees.

"I can be extra careful with the shoehorn too, if you want," she said after a minute, her voice playful again.

He smirked slightly, "That won't be necessary."

It was mid-evening when Sakura left the hospital, and she walked cheerfully down the road, down towards the old Uchiha neighborhood, humming a tune and resisting the urge to start skipping down the street. She had felt that the afternoon had gone infinitely better than it had the previous day and she was in a good mood as a result. Of course she could tell that Sasuke had was still having issues with his pride, but he had been more open to her touch today, and while she wouldn't say he'd entirely warmed up to her yet, he wasn't the cold fish he had been before.

She was rather pleased with the progress they had made—the afternoon walk had gone well, and they actually had a real conversation at lunch, it had been over something unimportant, but the fact that she could at least talk about something was a step forward. The exercise they had gone through most of the afternoon had been fun, and she couldn't help but smile to herself as she thought that Sasuke probably had enjoyed himself too. He had even smiled a couple times—as much of a smile as you could get from him—and she had found herself teasing him a little like she did to Naruto. Sasuke had done well with the item identification, she supposed she would have to find some more difficult items for him to identify.

But then there had been the kunai she had handed him that had been engraved with his father's name. That had held significance of some sorts, and she wondered curiously to herself what memories a simple engraved weapon had stirred up in his mind. True to her promise, she was taking extra good care of it, and now she was on her way back to his house to carefully replace his belongings where she had found them.

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