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Their house is new and built just for them, but it has ghosts all the same.
Not many ghosts: only three.
Sarada does not fear them, for she has known them all her life. They are nothing like the ghosts in Uncle Naruto’s scary stories.
They are family.
Papa’s family.
They died a long time before Sarada was born, but Sarada knows them because Papa does not want to forget. He takes her to their graves, shows her their pictures, and when she asks questions he answers them readily.
(Except when she asks how they died. That, Papa says, is a question he can only really answer when she’s older)
She has studied their family portrait many times; the only one Papa keeps out in the open. The stern lines of Grandfather’s face, the curve of Grandmother’s smile, or the frankness of Uncle’s eyes.
(Papa has Uncle’s eyes, Grandfather’s face, and Grandmother’s smile)
She has not told Papa about their presence, but only because they do not want him to know. They do not speak, though they always listen, and they make their thoughts known to her in small ways.
--
Grandfather didn’t smile in the photographs. And according to Papa, he rarely smiled outside of them. This seems odd to Sarada; since she has known Grandfather, he has always had smiles for her.
He sits just outside their main door, always vigilant. Every day, from the moment she leaves to the moment she returns. Every day, he welcomes her with a grave nod; she tries to return the gesture with a respectful bow—at least as long as no one else is with her and might wonder why she was bowing to thin air.
He looks after the house while Papa is gone, to make sure she and Mama are undisturbed. And even when Papa is home, she knows that Grandfather walks the hall at night, searching for those who might dare wish his family harm.
He is nothing like her Mama’s papa, with his silly jokes and goofy smile, but Sarada loves him all the same. He is comfortable and even if he is not the one who keeps misfortune away, she feels safe. On quiet days she likes to sit by his side, with either a book or crayons or a piece of string, and let the hours pass by.
There is nothing but affection and pride in his eyes when he looks at her. He is impressed by Mama, and always nods respectfully to her as she passes to and fro on her way to work.
But with Papa…
It always makes her heart twist to see him look at Papa. When Papa comes home, that is one of the only times she will see Grandfather in the house. There is love in his eyes for Papa, and the same pride he gives to Sarada. But there is sadness and regret and pain as well.
Things that run deep.
Things that, for of Papa’s promises of older and later, she might never understand.
--
Grandmother is the most beautiful woman Sarada has ever seen, excepting Mama and, she decides loyally, Auntie Ino.
It is around Mama that Sarada sees Grandmother at her most lively. Grandmother never met Mama while she was alive, but loves her all the same. She likes to help Mama around the house: directing Mama’s eyes to books she wants to find, or to unlocked doors, or even once unearthing Sarada’s unfinished homework from where it got lost in Mama’s paperwork.
Grandmother especially likes to help Mama cook. She will lean against the counter, hands folded, and watch as Mama chops vegetables and measures rice. She touches Mama’s hands to stop rubbing spices into the meat, or taps her forehead so that Mama will look up and see that the water has started to boil.
Papa told her Grandmother was gentle and kind. Sarada sees that Grandmother is mischievous, delighted with her ability to help so secretly. She smiles and puts a finger to her lips when she catches Sarada watching her, a reminder to keep their secret.
Sarada mimics the gesture, and can never quite hide her laughter when Mama looks at her funny and asks what she is trying to say.
--
It is her uncle that Sarada sees the least, only turning up when her papa comes home. Sarada thinks he follows Papa, to help him the way her grandparents help her and Mama.
But when Uncle is present, he is frequently with her. He watches her practice throwing shruiken or hitting a dummy with a wooden sword. She tells him about her favorite sweets and her friends; he indicates his questions with the merest tilt of the head. But like Grandfather and Grandmother, he never answers her questions. He listens to her complaints and smiles when she giggles and pokes her gently on the forehead when she runs out of words to say.
Papa always says that Uncle is gentle and that is all she sees.
--
She rarely sees the three of them together. Sometimes, Grandmother might sit with Grandfather outside, or Uncle joins Grandmother in the kitchen, but more often than not, they stay in their respective spaces.
When they don’t, it means that Papa has returned or that he will leave again. On those nights, when her family is together, whether in the kitchen or the living room or curled up on the futon in her bedroom, she will look over to the doorway and see the ghosts standing there, watching.
She does not know why they will not come closer. Every time, she beckons to them, but they never dare to step through the threshold.
It confuses Sarada, why they hold themselves apart at these times when the family is together.
(It is almost like they are ashamed, like they do not feel as though they have the right. She sees longing in their faces and wishes she could take their hands and pull them in)
Come join us, she begs in her head, hoping against hope they will hear. Let Mama and Papa see you. Come be part of the family.
But they do not. Instead, the ghosts observe her little family for a while, and melt back to their respective roles.
--
The dead cannot speak.
Cannot divulge their reasons.
It does not mean they do not show their love as best they can.