He isn't sure why he lets her.
They're in a room in the maternity ward, a civilian doctor and nurse standing by. His wife cries out, and then-and then-after what seems an eternity-the doctor turns to him and says, "Congratulations. You're a father."
It's the happiest day in his life, happier than the day he became a jounin, than the day he got married. A child of his own; he imagines days in the future teaching his son (he can see it's a son) how to climb a tree, how to throw a kunai, how to weave a genjutsu. All the things his father taught him.
"Itachi," murmurs his wife. "That's what we'll call him."
Weasel? What kind of name is that? It instantly brings distrust to his mind. Yet when the doctor fills out the birth certificate, he can't bring himself to complain
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He isn't sure why he lets her.
They're in the living room, around the coffee table. She's sitting on her favourite embroidered cushion.
"So," she begins. "You'll start teaching him tomorrow, won't you?"
Nonononono, he wants to say, but he doesn't. His son is three, a toddler, a time when he should be learning to form basic kana, learning to count, learning to play well with others, not learning to kill. He knows that's what she wants. It's traditional to teach Uchiha children certain ninja skills early, but this is bit much. Images of a younger cousin's grey-haired team-mate, a boy with no social skills but plenty of mastered jutsu swim in his mind.
Itachi grins at him, with bright black eyes that he knows will be dulled soon. Even if the war ends soon, he can almost visualize where this will end-no, no, he mustn't, he doesn't want to know what the future will hold.
"So tou-san's gonna teach me to be a ninja?"
"Yes, sweetie," replies his wife. She stares at him, as if willing him to say no.
He sighs heavily and answers that yes, yes, he will, because even though he's fairly sure this is a bad idea he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He isn't sure why he lets her.
They're in the Academy. A brown-haired, plain-faced chuunin sits behind a desk, scribbling on a form.
It's a form to allow to his son to be moved to the next grade. Ordinarily, this would be a good thing-but it's already happened twice in the last month.
"Are you sure this is right for your son?," inquires the chuunin. "He's five-even if he's physically capable of doing the work required for the fourth class, he might not be mentally."
That's right. Five. An age where he should be learning to climb a tree without injuring himself, maybe throw a blunted kunai, what a genjutsu is (and why did this seem familiar?) not learning to kill. He starts to say something, and his wife squeezes his hand, and he knows it isn't for encouragement. Whatever words were going to have come out of his mouth are replaced by a single word:
"Yes."
Yes. Yes I want you to teach my son my precious, precious son to break arms, to stab in the chest, to leave someone lying unconscious on a wooden floor (and again, he shakes the images out of his mind, because he knows soon they'll be all too true.)
The chuunin marks down his response on the form and ushers them out of her office. Itachi smiles at him. (He can see those smiles becoming smaller.)
"Isn't it great? I'm so awesome they're letting me move up another class!"
His wife says yes, yes it is, and that we're so happy for you. Except he isn't happy, and he wants to tell her he doesn't like her putting words in his mouth but he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He isn't sure why he lets her.
They're in the living room.
Itachi is eight now. Eight and already a genin. He's off on some mission-thankfully, thankfully just a C-Rank, perfectly safe and ordinary.
His other son, sweet lovely Sasuke, who always giggles at him from beneath a fringe of dark hair, is three.
She wants him to turn his lovely second son-his second chance- into what amounts to nothing more but an even more horrifying version of the first.
"Why?," he asks, even though he's fairly sure he already knows the answer.
"Well," she begins, letting out a little sigh, "Itachi really isn't what I'd wished he'd be by now. Too childish! It's improper for an Uchiha. I realized that might happen-that's what we have this one for." His wife smiles at him, and she looks beautiful on the outside but he thinks she's horrible on the inside. He wants to tell her that Itachi is a child, and already far too serious, and Sasuke is a person in his own right not just-not just- a spare. (He half remembers another reason why she might want two sons, and he doesn't want to think about it but he can't help envision a boy tied to an operating table and-he shoves them away viciously. He hopes that isn't part of her reasoning.)
"So tou-san's gonna teach me to be a ninja like nii-san?," blurts out Sasuke, interrupting him from his thoughts.
"Yes, sweetie," replies his wife. This all seems vaguely familiar, like it's all happened before, and suddenly he realises why-because it has. He should be smarter now, should know what this will lead to, but he knows what will happen if he doesn't.
So he says yes, even though he knows this is a bad idea, but he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He doesn't know why he lets her.
They are in the bedroom. Neither are in bed; she is combing her hair at her dressing table, he is reviewing papers from work. He's had a long day and wants nothing more to collapse onto their futon.
She tells him she's not pleased with how Sasuke is performing. After all, when Itachi was his age he could already perform two Katon techniques, and Sasuke can't do any! He wants to tell her that they're different people and not everyone is a genius, but his mind is so lost in the paperwork related to the recent fire suspected to be arson based in the merchant district he doesn't.
Then she tells him she wants him to pressure Sasuke more; it looks bad, after all, to the other Uchiha families, a clan head's son…for if he were anybody else's son he would be praised, not belittled, and Itachi this and Itachi that.
He can deal with this. She's told him mostly the same before. Except she usually leaves off with that, but tonight she's really trying to make him angry, apparently.
"And I think Itachi-kun has been a chuunin for too long, don't you? He tells me he hates killing….I had such high hopes for him. This is all your fault, you know! You implanted your foolish ideals into his brain, didn't you? You should try to correct that," she accuses.
He agrees that Itachi is nothing like he should be. A child without a childhood, in a way. And it's all her fault, but he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He doesn't know why he lets her.
They're in the study. Itachi has informed them-in that horrible, horrible monotone-that he has been invited to join ANBU. It shocks him. Some say being in ANBU is glorious, but those people are sorely mistaken. It is a place for the damaged, the haunted, and the broken-and if you aren't when you enter, you will be when you leave. Their missions are the worst of the worst, what regular ninja cannot stomach.
And an eleven year old is being invited to join. Eleven!
She smiles at Itachi, who does not smile back. He hardly ever does anymore.
"This is a valuable opportunity for you. It will let you be…" and she glances at her husband, and he knows what he is supposed to say,
"A pipeline to the village," he finishes, disgusted at himself.
His son seems disgusted too. He hates that, hates how he must pretend, but he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He doesn't know why he lets her.
They're in the Naka Shrine. Uchiha-nin surround them. He barely understands why they are angry at first, but when he thinks about it, he feels anger at the village too. Anger at ruining his son, even though he knows inside it's all his fault, if only he had been a better father, if only….but it is not time for if only's. He has a speech to give, well rehearsed in the mirror, and in front of her.
It is exactly what you would expect. He talks with as much passion as he can infuse into something he never to talk about in the first place. He talks about the Senju undermining the clan even though there is only one remaining and she left a decade and a half ago, about people blaming them for the Kyuubi attack even though only one man could control the Kyuubi and he was an Uchiha, about being marginalised even though we never tried to get involved in the village, and about not being involved in village politics even though we're very influential anyway, and he hates it because he knows it's true and false all at the same time, and when all have gone and he is alone with her she hugs him and whispers "Exactly as planned." Destroying the clan-because this will destroy it-is awful to him, but he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves her.
He doesn't know why he lets him.
They're in the dining room. Itachi his precious, precious, terrible, son is clutching a bloody tanto.
Inside he knew it would come to this. A coup would never hope to work; they were severely outnumbered, even with the advantage of the Sharingan. It was only logical a member of ANBU would be dispatched to take care of it, but he doesn't understand why it had to be this one.
She starts fighting, hurling dinner knives and punches, but he knows it is futile. After all, she hasn't been in the field properly in…thirteen years. He can see Itachi moving in a certain way and he closes his eyes because it would hurt to watch, and it's a good thing he did because nobody wants to see their wife's blood and guts spilling out onto the floor. She cries out, and he cannot help but remember that day in the maternity ward.
He knows he is next. Itachi walks up to him, calmly, as if he has all the time in the world (but perhaps he does).
"Well, tou-san, aren't you going to try and fight me too?," he asks, and a faint note of resentment is audible in his voice.
"No," he murmurs, because really what can he do?
His son sighs, and slowly pulls open Uchiha Fugaku's eyes for the last time. He knows he will probably wind up in a genjutsu but he can't bring himself to complain.
He supposes it's because he loves him.