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“What’s all this stuff for?” Naruto’s tongue peeked out as he watched you unpack the grocery bags one by one. The little blond boy was way too cute for his own good. His bright-blue eyes were questioning your every move as you unpacked more and more little packages: Eggs, chocolate drops, fine sugar, his favorite gummy animals, gingerbread seasoning, small figurines of a witch and two children…
“We’re going to build a gingerbread house,” you answered and watched how Naruto’s eyes grew huge in wonder, “and we’re also going to decorate it all ourselves.”
“A gingerbread house?” the boy echoed.
“Yes.” You nodded ever so seriously. “A gingerbread house. Do you remember the fairy tale I told you about?”
“The one with the big, bad wolf eating the pigs?”
“Not that one.”
“The one with the pretty girl with the long hair living in the huge tower?”
“Not that either. The one with the siblings getting lost in the forest?”
At that, Naruto’s eyes started to sparkle as his memory caught up. The boy started to hobble up and down, hands balled into little fists and incredibly adorable in his excitement. “The one with the brother and sister? The one with the witch and the house made out of sweets?”
“Exactly that one.” You winked at the boy, before dropping a huge bag of flour right in front of him. “We’re building our own gingerbread house. With all the sweets I could get my hands on. Look!”
You spread out all the different ingredients out in front of him. Behind you, you were dimly aware of Iruka’s silent steps approaching, but you ignored him in favor of counting out all the little sweet pleasures you planned to use. “We have gummy bears, little chocolate droplets, small nuts if you want to add them, all kinds of sprinkles, so coconut sprinkles, colorful sugary sprinkles, smarties, I even got my hands on small marshmallows.”
Naruto eyed the different bags and treats with wonder. “That’s a lot.”
“Yeah." You nodded very seriously. “I mean, the witch in the fairy tale had lots of sweets in her house, too.”
“Right.” Again, Naruto eyed all the ingredients on the counter. This time though, there was a hint of worry in his expression. “(Y/N)...”
“Yeah?”
“But there won’t be a witch eating children, right?”
For a second, you considered laughing at the absurdity of it all. But then, you noticed how Naruto bit his lower lip and his hands tightening around the lower hem of his t-shirt with the red swirl printed onto his chest.
Gently, you crouched down to his eye level. Taking one of his small hands into yours still felt incredibly strange, but you were rewarded with a little grin flashing over his face and the words flowed a little bit easier. “No, there won’t be. This is just our own gingerbread house to eat. To be honest,” you said as you gestured up to the counter, “this is a family tradition of my family. Every year, my dad and I would get to bake the gingerbread house and build it together. And he always allowed me to decorate it all by myself.”
Iruka stood in your back. You felt his presence, his worry like they were your own, how he watched and waited how you would handle the situation with his adopted child. You were so very careful how Naruto would react, how he would take it being called family and involved in family traditions.
You only breathed out in relief when Naruto broke into a wide, toothy grin. “That’s so cool, believe it! Can I really decorate it by myself? Can I use anything I want?”
“Of course! Everything I have on this table is all yours when we’re ready to decorate.”
Suddenly, you found yourself with an armful of small child. Out of instinct, you wrapped your arms around his body, while you had to blink quickly to force the pesky tears standing in your eyes away.
“Yes!” His loud voice boomed in your ears. “Oh man, I can’t wait! How long will it take? Can I watch? Oh, can we take photos of the gingerbread house so I can show it to Sasuke next time he comes over? Or even better, can I bring the house to school and show all the others? Sakura would be so amazed, believe it, when she sees how I will decorate it!”
For now, you had to talk Naruto out of bringing the gingerbread house to school and also apologize, but baking, preparing and building the actual gingerbread house would take at least an entire day, plus a night of waiting for the gingerbread to harden properly. Only barely, he was able to contain his excitement and when you watched him skip up to his room.
Slowly, you moved out of your crouch without turning your head.
“He didn’t react to the word “family” today,” Iruka noted as he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours, “that’s good. Progress.”
“Mhmm.” Still, it had been a stupid mishap to mention family traditions. Naruto only came to live with Iruka for a few months, even though he knew the teacher for some time now. Iruka didn’t want to overwhelm him at the start, so you had put up a little bit of distance with your boyfriend, given that he and Naruto needed some time to adjust to the entire new living situation. In the meantime, you heard a lot about the young, blond boy, but meeting the bundle of sunshine was a whole other story. You had tried to be mindful of the words you used, but sometimes, your tongue was faster than your brain and in your enthusiasm, it would slip from your mind that Naruto’s parents died. There had been more mistakes on your part in the past, but you liked to believe that you bettered yourself somewhat and thus, Naruto started to accept you as a permanent fixture in his life—as Iruka’s partner.
His hand slipped into the most comfortable spot on your hip; strong fingers, squeezing your hip, making your heart flutter still. “I love to see you with him like this. He likes you.”
“I believe the same.”
Iruka hummed. The special hum in the very back of his throat, telling you more than enough. Still, you raised your eyebrows as you glared at him, knowing what the little blush crossing the old scar over the bridge of his nose and the shifting of his eyes meant. “No. No, we won’t.”
Finally, Iruka looked directly at you. “We won’t! We won’t!”
“I sure hope we won’t, mister. Last time,” you said while you waggled your eyebrows at him, “Naruto nearly caught us.”
“If you start gasping so loud he comes out to ask what’s wrong with you while I go down on you, that’s not really my fault…”
“If your head-game is just that good, it is pretty much your fault.” you countered instantly. Even though it hurt you on the inside, you pushed Iruka off of you, but not without a little tease in the form of a kiss to his cheek. “No time for this. I have to make the gingerbread, otherwise I won’t hear the end of it from Naruto.”
“Can I help?” Iruka, always a good soul and samaritan.
“Not now." Laughing, you turned again to the counter. “But later on. I need someone to open the oven when I bake all the different shapes, hold the trays to put the shapes on because they’re fickle as fuck, hold my hand when one of them is not exactly up to my impossible standards…”
His warm eyes closed as your boyfriend laughed, all merry comfiness in his sweatpants and loose, obnoxiously ugly christmas sweater. “All of that, I can do.”
Following the recipe inside your head, you went off to mix all the ingredients. At the sidelines of your awareness, you knew Iruka was watching your every move. Not because he was worried, but because he loved to watch you when you were engrossed in something; so deep in your own world you started to fade a little bit. Just a bit, fraying out at the edges, blurring into your task until only the task was left.
The best part of it all was, in your own opinion, rolling out the dough and cutting the shapes for the gingerbread house. The kitchen was already smelling of cinnamon, sugar and the tea you made in between—which sat now forgotten on the counter, lonely and cold—the rolling pin in your hands and the dough spread out in front of you.
When you pulled out some white templates out of an old recipe book, Iruka disturbed the silence for the first time with words. His eyes followed your hands intently as you edged the first template for a house wall around on top of the rolled out dough. “This is a house wall, right?”
“Yeah.” Now, the template laid perfectly. Not wasting too much dough, you still could cut out another wall before rolling the dough up into a ball and spreading it out again. You reached for the nearby knife, ready to cut out the very first wall. “I will cut some holes in it. For the windows.”
“Oh, that's what the sheets of gelatin are for.”
“Yes.” With practised motions, you cut the four straight lines into the dough and removed the single square. Another cut, then you had two pieces to imitate shutters. “I will place it inside and stick it there. Nothing to show but the stained glass.”
“And these,” his fingers pointed at the just cut pieces, “are the shutters?”
“Yeah.” Another cut for the next side wall. This one without glass, which made it easier all around. “A baking tray, now.”
Iruka moved without questioning anything. The cut dough was fickle, always ready to fall apart because of the flour you had to use to keep it from sticking to the countertop. Unfortunately, it didn’t keep him from speaking, which used more of your brain than you wanted to give right now. “And these ones? They look funny.”
“For the chimney.”
“Ooooh.” Iruka cocked his head to the side as he studied the two smaller squares paired up with the squares with recesses at the bottom, fitting for the high angle of the roof. “Right. I see it now.”
“Mhmm…” Ten minutes, not more. Gingerbread used for a house didn’t need to bake longer than that, which left you just enough time to cut out the other shapes you had in your repertoire: the silhouette of a pine tree, the sides of the roof, the wings of a door. When the timer went off, you absent-mindedly ordered Iruka to take out the baked gingerbread-shapes, only to slide the next tray into the oven yourself.
“Thanks,” you breathed a kiss to his lips, nothing more than a brush of your mouth, “sorry. I’m not—”
“The most talkative when you’re working on something,” Iruka murmured back, “I know. It’s completely fine. I understand.”
Still, more often than not, you made sure to cuddle your face into the nape of Iruka’s neck whenever you passed by him as you continued to work around the kitchen. Already with a wet rag in your hands, you started to clean up some leftover flour on the counter, while Iruka shifted through the small bag going along with the old recipe book. Of course, you knew what was inside, so you snorted at his confused expression when several figurines tumbled out.
“Decorations,” you answered when Iruka turned to you, his face showing nothing but his growing confusion, “non-edible ones.”
“Better tell that Naruto beforehand.”
“Oh, believe me. I will.”
~ X ~
Over the night, the gingerbread hardened just enough to make it stable to build a house. In the morning, you assembled all the parts under Iruka’s curious eyes. Next thing he knew, he was beating egg whites, while you dropped more and more powdered sugar into the snowy mass.
“Isn’t that too much sugar?” Iruka worried as he watched how you dumped the other half of the already-opened package into the mass. “You know what happens when Naruto has a sugar high.”
“First off.” You raised three fingers into his face. "You need to beat the egg whites more. This is the glue, it needs to peak if you spin the bowl around. Second, there’s never enough sugar on a gingerbread house. And third, Naruto won’t eat that much of it, I will make sure of that.”
“Because you will eat all the sugar?”
You gave him finger guns. “Correct.”
At that, Iruka broke into a brilliant smile, even though you knew he was still a bit worried about the indeed-enormous amount of powdered sugar. “Even though you are already sweet enough, you need to eat more sugar? Do you want to kill me?”
“Haha, very funny.” Though, you blushed at the casual compliment, before turning to the assembled walls and holding two of them up. “Now, get here. There’s a pastry bag, fill it and glue the walls to the ground.”
And he did just that, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. An incredibly sweet gesture, one you wouldn’t want to miss for all things worth in the world. “Alright, alright. Okay, let me just…”
Together, you somehow managed to build a slightly askew, endearing house, with open doors, windows with frosted, red gelatin as glass, and a wonderful chimney right on top. Even the pine standing beside the house and the small fence at the side went off without a hitch. A few hours of waiting later to make sure the sugar-glue dried and the walls would keep on standing, you tried to explain to Naruto what you two were about to do, with Iruka sitting nearby and half-heartedly reading a book he'd been reaing d now for several months.
“I can’t eat these?” Naruto stared with big eyes at the figurine of an old woman you held between your fingers. In his own slightly pudgy hands, he held the figurines of a boy and a girl, the paint on their faces and clothes already a bit chipped and not bigger than his small finger.
“Well, you know what we always say.”
“You can eat everything at least once, believe it!”
“Exactly, and these figurines definitely fall under the category “once”, because you would break your little teeth on them.” One quick glance at Iruka, who didn’t seem too miffed by your response, so you continued to explain today’s plan to the child, who listened with an unusual level of attention. “Alright! Here, you have all these decorations at your disposal. You just need to tell me where you want to put them and I will put a little dot or line on the gingerbread of this sugary glue here. Want a taste?”
“Yeah, believe it!” Naruto inhaled the small drop of the liquid powdered sugar, only to grin a toothy smile and give you a thumbs-up. “This is nice! Really, really sweet! Can I have more?”
“No, not yet, at least.” Iruka piped up before you could even say anything. One look at him, and he flipped to the next page with—without a doubt—not having read a single word. He was incredibly cute like this, worrying endlessly and not knowing how to express it properly.
“Later.” You agreed with a nod. "But now, you can decorate the house like you want to. Well, where do we start?”
Decorating the house with Naruto was indeed a true mess, just like you expected. When Naruto was involved with any form of art—may it be painting, drawing, singing or dancing—things tended to get messy, in a good way. His enthusiasm was infectious, just like the atmosphere all around. Christmas music was playing on the radio, Iruka’s eyes flittered to the spectacle from time to time, Naruto was laughing while he stood on his small stool and tried to decide if he wanted gummy bears or marshmallows on top of the chimney. This was exactly the situation and light happiness you were aiming for when introducing your family tradition to this little makeshift family.
Naruto needed the stability, the bonding over a wonderful experience, and the fun. Eating the gingerbread house would come second place behind that. Plus, the memories Naruto was making today were too precious. Now, he wouldn’t notice, but later… When he was way older, then he would appreciate them, you were sure.
Iruka needed this tradition to relax a bit as he had no idea how to bake. Plus, including him in the preparations made it part of their family tradition as well.
You smiled as you watched how Naruto antagonized over the positioning of the figurines. Endless questioning if the witch would be better in front of the open doors or a little bit outside, if the siblings would be hiding behind the tree or not, and if the black cat would be best sitting beside the witch or a little bit farther apart.
All of this was part of the fun though. Watching Naruto like this was lovely; so nice you couldn’t help but to tussle his blond hair. The boy looked up from the gingerbread house, eyes wide and so incredibly blue it reminded you of the summer, and his brilliant smile made you smile as well. Maybe, you could also include another family tradition in the summer, now that you thought about it. Going for a camping trip, going for a swim in the nearby lake, making stick bread over a campfire. Anything to make happy memories for Naruto for years to come.
Yes. Introducing several family traditions to him was the right decision.