I realize there hasn't been much humor in this...that's what happens when the family problems start to seep into fanfiction. Anyway, this is the last chapter, then the epilogue will be updated later.

Disclaimer: How many times? No, I'm a poor American girl! No Naruto for me :(

Itachi had become obsessed with his work, even refusing to let us at dinner with him. Sasuke and I were really worried, of course. What could he...what would do to himself (and the company, but that's not the point!)

Five months have passed since the day Aki-kun passed away, and we haven't seen hide nor hair of Akemi. Everyone was totally okay with it, though. She wasn't at all missed.

One Friday, Itachi invited the whole family to his house for dinner. He looked a little better; it seemed work at the company had helped him get over that day. Fugaku and Mikoto stared at him unbelievably, not understanding what could have happened.

Before we sat down, however, I caught a slight flash in Itachi's eye. Sasuke stared at him too, and we nodded to each other.

"Itachi, are you really okay?" Sasuke asked uncomfortably. He fidgeted in his chair, much like a child who had confessed that he had stolen cokies (or chocolate).

"Why are you asking?" my brother-in-law replied.

"We're family, dear, we look out for each other," Mikoto answered. She gazed at him with the same motherly gaze that I often caught myself giving my boys sometimes.

"Really, I'm fine! It's just tiring to be grievous all day, I'm tired of it all!" he hissed.

A cry - Haruki - sounded from the couch where my boys were. Ichirou poked at his brother's cheek cutely, but it only caused Haruki to weep louder. Itachi walked over to him and picked him up. After a few minutes of rocking, the crying stopped and Haruki was asleep.

"I want my son back, and he'll never come back. Why is that?" he turned over and glared at all of us.

"But...I guess it's alright. I know I'll get over it soon 're here to help," he continued, lowering his voice.

"Of course we're here for you," Fugaku-sama grunted.

I managed a smile, and Sasuke smirked. The same motherly look was still on Mikoto's face.

Over the next few weeks, everything really did turn out better. Itachi lived like a normal person (well, as normal as an Uchiha can be) and life continued on.

"Sasuke, where are the tomatoes? I just bought, like, two whole bags of them yesterday, and now I can't find them," I called.

"Wh...What? Are you trying to say my tomatoes have gone MISSING, woman?" Sasuke snarled.

"I thought you ate them. I saw Ichirou eating one just a few minutes agon next to Haruki, so..."

We exchanged glances and ran to the nursery, where the Ichirou was sitting on the floor next to where Haruki was propped up by about ten pillows. Ichirou was holding two tomatoes in his hand, rubbing them against each other, the finally taking a huge bite. He handed two tomatoes to Haruki, who smashed one into a pillow and threw the other to the ground.

Sasuke, who was near tears, was about to pass out when he saw what was on the ground next to Haruki's arm.

A whole bag...


"Ichirou!" he finally gasped, "After so long...you traitor!"

Surprised by the loud noises, Haruki started to cry. Ichirou continued eating and smashing the poor tomatoes, looking adorable and innocent.

I was about to let them go safely - forgive and forget, they were still my darling boys - but Sasuke growled. Being a smart woman, I decided to see what Sasuke had to say before I defended my sons.

"These...my sons...my to-tomatoes!"

Just as Sasuke was about to run over to the beloved tomatoes, the home phone rang. Sasuke snarled before running to get it.

"Hello?" I heard him say.

I rushed to the boys' side and tried to pick Haruki up. He gave me the most innocent puppy-dog eyes I had ever seen in my life. Ichirou, who crawled by his side in an instant, held his arms up to indicate that he wanted to be held.

"Mammy!" he exclaimed.

As if it were an inside joke that I had missed out on, my sons laughed hysterically at each other until Sasuke came back.

"Let's clean them up, Sakura," he said, "Naruto's inviting us to dinner."

He picked Ichirou up (tomato-hands and all) and headed to the bathroom, beckoning me to follow him with a hand.

"Who else will be there? Is it just a get-together?" I asked.

"Yeah, something about a Ramen Day. He wants us to bring the kids, too. Oh, and to answer your other question, Suigetsu, Juugo, and the whole gang are coming over. I can only imagine the chaos already..." he murmured, washing the tomato juice from Haruki's hands.

"Did he invite Itachi?"

"Yeah, him, too."

When we arrived, almost everyone was there. Hinata came over and greeted us.

"Alright, now that you're here, we only have to wait for Itachi and Neji-nii-san. Chouji, Kiba, Lee, and Shino couldn't make it," she explained.

"You invited Lee?" Naruto exclaimed.

"Yes, of course. It only seemed proper, and he's a very dear friend to us. He tutored you throughout college, right?"

"I guess..."

A few awkward silences later, Itachi, Neji, and Tenten arrived. We chatted like teenagers: the girls and I were in the kitchen, making ramen, and the guys were in the living room, watching over the children.

It was slightly refreshing, to say the least, to finally talk to on of my friends in person. I was always babysitting or filling out paperwork.

When we finally sat down to eat, all eyes were directed at the host.

"So, Naruto, what's up with this...Ramen Day, was it?" Shikamaru asked.

"Yeah! It's a whole day where you feast on nothing but ramen. It's like fasting, but awesomer. Like, a LOT awesomer!" Naruto exclaimed.

He chuckled nervously before thinking of an answer. "It's an excuse to get together, right?"

Murmurs of agreement were heard.

Looking at the table, full of my friends, all happy, made me glad. I looked over at my children, seeing them grinning and talking in their own baby language. Honestly, I have never felt this good in my life.

Not my best, I feel like I've been a failure of an author! I suck at everything - updating, grammar, spelling, storylines, etc.

Please review.