Years passed.
Their child grew—laughing, stubborn, kind.
Naruto grew grayer at the temples. Sakura grew softer around the eyes.
They argued. They laughed. They loved deeply and imperfectly.
One evening, older now, Naruto rested his head in Sakura's lap as she traced familiar scars.
"When I die," he said suddenly, "don't let them turn me into a statue."
She smiled sadly. "Too late. You're already a legend."
He looked up at her. "I only ever wanted to be yours."
She bent down, pressing her forehead to his. "And you always were."