but in this universe they are happy
Chapter 6: Flashback
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16 Years Ago
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In the heart of the village and a stone's throw from the Hokage Tower, on a sprawling estate on the Uchiha Compound, a young man sits in seiza ready to choose his future wife with all reverence of a man choosing what he will eat for dinner.
Uchiha Fugaku is 18 years old, but the soft frown lines forming at the edges of his mouth tell otherwise, his neutral face giving off an impression of perpetual disappointment. This is his third omiai this week, he has several more to go but he decides this will be his last. He will inform his father of his decision and will no longer have to muddle through the bothersome formalities of these proceedings until his fiancée is of age.
Fugaku is at his limit feigning polite conversations and talking more than one-word sentences for a prolonged amount of time. Across from him is a girl, just beginning her teenaged years, with long, dark hair that shines a deep shade of blue in the sunlight. She bows her head as her father presents her.
"Mikoto is a promising young genin. She graduated as the top kunoichi in her class, and she has already awakened her sharingan. She will do well in maintaining a pure, strong Uchiha bloodline."
The introduction plucks at a nerve, unsettles Fugaku, as though her worth lies in her ability to breed. But he smothers the feeling. As the only surviving son of the Uchiha main house, he will do his duty. He and Mikoto share a great-great-grandfather, and it had been decided at her birth that her future marriage would be arranged with a main house son. Regardless, it is customary to hold several omiai despite Mikoto's obvious advantages. Out of all his potential matches, she is the only one who has activated the Uchiha bloodline limit. Most of his female clansman who can activate it have been shipped off to war and have never returned.
Fugaku witnessed so many of his clansmen, his two older brothers, his uncles, and his cousins sacrifice their lives for a village that had only viewed them as expendable. His father pulled him from the front lines to work instead for the Konoha Military Police, more as an act of clan preservation than out of love. At least it seemed that way. As typical of shinobi clan heads, Uchiha Fuji rarely showed affection or praise.
Only a fraction of it was heaped upon Fugaku's eldest brother Naruhito, a powerful taijutsu master (much to their Father's pride) yet boisterous and brazen, traits disparaged among the Uchiha (much to their Father's disdain). Which only left crumbs of acknowledgement for Fuji's second son Itsuki, who was renowned for his gripping genjutsu on the battlefield but frowned upon for his gentle, peaceful nature. Fugaku, the youngest of the three brothers who've come to be known as The Triad in the shinobi world, was just as formidable in the art of ninjutsu. Even so, his position as third son left him starved of fatherly approval.
"She's a stunning Uchiha beauty, more exquisite than women twice her age and the fairest of them all. Wouldn't you agree?" Mikoto's father pulls her chin up by his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes are downcast, but her long lashes flutter as she shyly meets Fugaku's gaze.
He examines her and after a beat replies, "Yes." He turns to nod at his father, "Our union would be an honorable one, strengthening the clan."
A faint blush dusts Mikoto's cheeks, but her father and Fugaku wait with bated breath. Fuji's stoic expression betrays nothing, and his silence is agonizing, his dark-eyed gaze oppressive even without crimson saturation and spinning tomoe.
And then, he closes his eyes and replies with a curt, "Hn."
It is then decided in an utterance of just one syllable, that Mikoto is Fugaku's betrothed.
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At the conclusion of the omiai, Fugaku's father sends him out of the compound to investigate acts of vandalism around the village. Fugaku has only known the battlefield since he graduated from the Ninja Academy. He was whisked away into the thick of the war before the ink signatures on his diploma were dry. Having been a part of the police force for one year has been a major change of pace, and he grumbles under his breath at the menial tasks and grunt work he's been saddled with. But despite his status as the remaining son of the Uchiha Patriarch, his father still expects him to build himself up through the ranks.
So Fugaku downs two cups of coffee, black, and grits his teeth as he exits the Uchiha gates. He pulls out his small notepad and skims the details of his assignment, then snaps it shut as he bounds towards Hokage Rock, leaping across the roof tops.
Normally, one chunnin or a couple of genin surveil the monument in rotating shifts. Instead, Fugaku finds two civilian security guards, a sign of dwindling shinobi personnel in the wake of the Second Shinobi World War.
Fugaku frowns at the red paint haphazardly decorating the faces of the three Hokage, but isn't particularly offended, the stone behemoths erected as monuments to three generations of Senju might and influence. What would it be like if an Uchiha was carved into the mountain? The thought flutters away as the gruff, old, and disgruntled security guard addresses Fugaku.
"I was on my lunch break when it happened. Kizashi was supposed to cover me, but he was asleep." The guard gestures his thumb over his shoulder and mutters something depreciating about the young man, who looks to be around Fugaku's age. The young man whistles with verve while happily scrubbing away the paint.
The disgruntled guard whispers to Fugaku, "If you ask me, I bet it was some of those refugees that did this. Damn degenerates, I knew they'd just muck up Konoha!"
The Uchiha officer furrows his brows at this. He narrows his eyes then turns away, walking towards the other guard, whose mauve tinted hair bobs along to his cheerful singing as he works. When he greets Fugaku, he bellows, "Top of the morning Uchiha-sama! What can I do you for?"
Something about the man's wide grin and exuberant manner feels familiar to him somehow, but Fugaku shakes it off as he questions the man about the defaced monument.
Kizashi closes his eyes in contemplation and crosses his arms, "Wish I could be of more help, but the graveyard shift is tough! Slumber is quite the tempting mistress, and next thing you know, I wake up to this masterpiece!" Fugaku winces as Kizashi breaks into uproarious laughter. The Uchiha rubs his temples and excuses himself from the guards as he sets off to examine the area.
Walking a bit off the paved trail, he jots down notes in his pad when he spots poorly concealed footprints on the loose gravel. He squats to find that the soles resemble nin-sandals, Academy grade, although the tread is different from Konoha's Ninja Academy. In the middle of the print is a faint insignia, but before he can properly identify it, a bucket of water clatters over and washes the footprints away.
"Sorry, Uchiha-sama! Didn't see the bucket when I knocked it over!" Kizashi sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as his fellow guard berates him. Kizashi trudges away to grab another bucket of water, and Fugaku shakes his head. If he had activated his sharingan, he could've imprinted the insignia in his mind, but he didn't think such a simple assignment would require him to use it.
He swears that he recognizes the insignia, it's at the forefront of his mind yet he can't quite place it. Like looking for a word on the tip of your tongue but to no avail. From the evidence thus far, he deduces the vandal is obviously a child, due to the make of their nin-sandal and carelessness in covering their tracks. Seeing as the insignia is foreign to Konoha, the largest group of children born outside the hidden village are from the refugee district.
Fugaku frowns at the possibility that there may be some grain of truth in the disgruntled guard's previous prejudiced comments.
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Records and registration forms are practically non-existent for the refugees, especially for children and orphans. In a dark basement room, with only one single fluorescent light bulb flickering with each step from the floors above, Fugaku gives up sorting through boxes, boxes, and more boxes of mismatched papers and stacks of information. He finds no luck consulting the administrative department for help, with anything concerning refugees at the bottom of their list of priorities. Even the records clerk wrinkles her nose at the mention of them.
So he decides to do his due diligence and question the other establishments and homes that fell victim to the childish vandal's antics. But he doesn't expect to find a familiar face at each location. While questioning the fruit stand merchant, whose stall is draped with toilet paper strands, Kizashi is found in the back unloading crates of more fresh fruit. At the homes of two Konoha Council members, Utatane-san and Mitokado-san, Fugaku investigates the abundant remnants of splattered eggs, scattered and spoiling in the summer sun of their respective houses. But he is distracted by the same boisterous young man still whistling his joyous tune as he cleans the council's houses.
"You should know that being present at each scene of the crime implicates you." Fugaku stares warily (and quite wearily) at Kizashi who only beams back him.
"Now, now! Could we really call it a crime, Uchiha-sama? Seems like it's just kids having some summer fun before school starts back up again!"
"Sounds like a cover up to me, and too much of coincidence that I keep running into you." Fugaku's eyes narrow.
Kizashi guffaws and slaps the Uchiha officer on his shoulder which earns him a scowl. He ignores this and continues, "Well, how else am I going to make money? I'm saving up so I can open up my mochi shop! Haruno's Magnificent-Majestic-Marvelous-Mochi Extravaganza!"
Kizashi outstretches his hands as if displaying his shop name on a grand marquee, his eyes glimmer as though fireworks and confetti are bursting around them. Fugaku says nothing.
"Too much?" Kizashi raises his brows, "Or…I could name it after Ma and Pa's shop: Haruno's Confectionary."
Fugaku stays quiet but watches as a rueful expression graces the young man before him. But the look on his face disappears like a vapor, and he grins, "Well, duty calls! Off to my next job, have a wonderful evening, Uchiha-sama!"
Kizashi hops off the stoop and leisurely strolls away, hands resting behind his head. All of the offending eggs are gone, as if they were never there at all, the work done quickly and efficiently without Fugaku noticing.
Silently, he trails Kizashi a few paces behind.
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Dipping and weaving through the alleys, Fugaku follows Kizashi from the heart of the Konoha to the outskirts of the village. Bright lights and the liveliness of the market and village square dwindle as they reach the refugee district, riddled with ramshackle homes, and dingy street lights.
They reach a building with peeling paint and weathered wood. Children bombard Kizashi as he walks through the door, he chuckles and ruffles tops of heads. He heads toward the kitchen, greets some elderly women peeling potatoes, and dons an apron. He gets to work preparing a stew and when all the meal preparations are complete, helps in serving the children.
As all the children take their seats in the dining hall, Kizashi scans the room then frowns and exits the double doors. Fugaku follows him down the hall into a room filled wall to wall with bunk beds, smelling strongly of old bedsheets and murky mop water.
Kizashi walks down the row of beds and stops, dipping down to check the bottom of a bunk when he curses and dashes towards the window.
"Damn it, Kushina!" He calls out, then climbs out the window himself with some struggling and huffing. As Fugaku darts after him, he activates his sharingan and glances at the bunk Kizashi inspected, to see a hitai-ate folded on the pillow, with a familiar insignia on the forehead plate. The engraving of a whirlpool sparks Fugaku's memories, the same insignia embroidered on Konoha's shinobi flak jackets, Konoha's former ally ravaged by the war: Uzushio.
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A young girl with startling red hair, looking to be in her third year at the Ninja Academy, winds up her arm with egg in fist. She stands before the immaculate home of Shimura Danzo, the next intended victim of her rampage when Kizashi comes panting towards her.
"Kushina!" He yells, "Don't do it!"
Kushina glares and just as she launches the egg, a form flickers before her, catching it without a crack on the shell. She and Kizashi gawk at the startling speed of Fugaku, who looks at them with irritation coloring his sharingan. The red dissipates from his irises.
"You'll be coming with me to the KMP headquarters." He grasps her wrist with his free hand as Kushina gulps. She struggles against his iron grip as he calmly walks away, but Kizashi blocks his path.
"Move." Fugaku glowers.
"What are you going to do with her?" A bead of sweat rolls down Kizashi's forehead.
Fugaku's stare is steely eyed but even so, Kizashi doesn't budge, "The Konoha Council is incensed by her offenses, and for a refugee, she will probably be exiled from the village."
"That's too harsh! Don't you think that's unreasonable?"
Fugaku eyebrows knit together but then he shrugs, "I don't make the rules, and as a refugee yourself, trying to hide her actions, you're lucky I'm not reporting you as well."
Kushina pouts as she tries to tug her arm away, "Go ahead and exile me ! I hate this stupid village! They're only getting what they deserve. The villagers, the council…they look down on us like we're scum! Like…like we should just be thrown away…"
Fugaku glances down at the girl from whirlpool, and even though she shakes her fists with fury, her lip quivers with frustration. With a tinge of sadness. The Uchiha know a thing or two about being thrown away. Still, he is nothing if not dutiful, and he pushes past Kizashi. Yet the mauve haired man places an uncharacteristically solemn hand on the Uchiha's shoulder.
"You…of all people, can understand even a fraction of the toll that war brings. We're all still children, trying to find sense in all this chaos. Please, please…give her another chance."
The scowl on Fugaku's face deepens but even in the midst of this distressing situation, Kizashi's eyes remain hopeful and he manages a wry smile. And despite the Uchiha's hard exterior, the young man's bright earnesty tugs at something inside of his chest, and a feeling of nostalgia he can't quite make sense of rushes over him.
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Despite the Konoha Council's protests, Uchiha Fuji surprisingly agrees with his son that rehabilitative procedures are more affective at dealing with juvenile delinquents rather than punishment or exile. Ultimately, the Sandaime agrees. Much to Kizashi's relief, Kushina is sentenced to copious amounts of community service.
And every now and then, Fugaku will spot them during his village patrols: Kushina grumbling as she fixes a fence, repaints a stall, or fishes trash out of the Konoha River, and Kizashi gleefully doling out terrible puns while assisting her.
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14 years ago
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A teenager with wild hair splitting atop his head like spikes of a hedgehog, closes his eyes and stands in the shallow flow of the Konoha River, the water streaming around his ankles. His stillness, as undisturbed as the smooth stones resting at the bottom of the riverbed, contrasts with his unruly appearance. His crimson eyes flutter open and his arms are a blur as they dart into the water. With a smirk, he pulls his arms from the stream and in his hands are a bounty of floundering fish.
Before him, a young boy's eyes glimmer, "Itsuki-nii! Did you see that?! Naruhito-nii just caught all those fish with his bare hands!"
At the edge of the river sits a preteen, Itsuki, with hair as sleek as satin gathered at the nape of his neck, and next to him is a simple stick tied with twine serving as a makeshift fishing pole posted between two small boulders. The preteen looks up from his book at his brothers, his smile reaching his eyes. The twine hums a twangy tune as something tugs at the line, and he pulls it back to reveal a few fish caught at the hook.
The young boy looks on in awe, then tries in vain to catch his own fish. The boisterous teenager, Naruhito, slaps his little brother's back, "Keep trying otouto, you'll get it!" His thunderous laughter startles away the fish, much to the boy's dismay.
The brothers spend the afternoon cooling off in the river, and as the sun dips below the trees, they use their katon to light a bonfire and roast their fish. Darkness falls around them like a curtain, allowing the emerging constellations to take center stage. Fire illuminates the trio, light and shade flickering across their faces while the bonfire crackles quietly.
Naruhito looks up into the night sky, then across at Itsuki whose eyes gleam in return.
"Fugaku, it looks like it's time for Itsuki and I to meet up with our old man."
The young boy looks up and frowns, tears beginning to well up, "You're leaving me? All alone here…"
Naruhito ruffles the boy's hair as he rises from his perched position on a log. Itsuki gives a two-fingered poke to the boy's forehead, "You won't be alone. Until next time otouto, but not too soon now."
With rueful smiles, the brothers turn to leave, and their forms sink into the darkness. The boy tries with all his might to follow but is anchored to the ground.
"Don't go!" He cries, "Naruhito-nii! Itsuki-nii!"
His voice echoes in the darkness closing in. But just as the black shroud descends on him, his eyes flutter open at the knocking of a knuckle meeting wood.
Fugaku blinks back sleep, then rubs his bleary eyes. "Come in," he croaks.
The door creaks open, an officer with a flak jacket bearing a Konoha Military Police emblem enters Fugaku's office, "The reports you requested, sir."
Fugaku fishes out his reading glasses as the officer gingerly places a manila folder onto his desk. The officer quietly sees himself out as Fugaku begins what promises to be another long day as Konoha's Chief of Police.
It has been six months since Uchiha Fuji passed, and at 20 years old, Fugaku has taken up the mantle of Uchiha Clan Patriarch as well as the Head of The Konoha Military Police. The world feels like it's off its axis, and he is moving through life in a daze. Not even the optical might of the sharingan seems to clear his vision.
But still, he presses onward, even if his flak jacket feels too heavy on his shoulders and his sight feels punctuated by darkness.
With reluctance, he leaves work early to attend to his obligations as Head of the Clan.
Cherry blossoms dot the trees that line the Konoha River, as Fugaku reaches the rendezvous point: a red bridge just outside the Uchiha compound. At the center of the bridge, a young woman leans over the railing, admiring the blossoms and soaking in the sounds of the village with closed eyes.
At the light sound of Fugaku's footsteps, she turns and tilts her head, her lips curling upwards and eyes crinkling.
"Good afternoon," She says.
Mikoto's hair is a bit longer now, cascading down her back like a sheet. She is taller too, and the former roundness of her cheeks now angles into high cheek bones. Fugaku gives a perfunctory smile, then offers his arm and she winds her own through as they set off into the village.
They haven't met or spoken since their very first omiai, and their walk around Konoha is only arranged because Fugaku's mother and Mikoto's parents are reaffirming their future union in the wake of his father's death. She's wearing a kimono (and feels a little silly because it's just a walk, but her mother insists on her wearing one). Fugaku remarks that she looks nice and means it, as if he's commenting on someone's living room decor or a piece of pottery on display. She blushes anyway, and they walk around the village, mostly in silence with an occasional question from Mikoto and a short response from Fugaku.
Their meandering brings them to the outskirts of the village, into the refugee district. Fugaku frowns at the sorry state. The district had recently been hit with strings of vandalism, more damaging to homes and businesses than Kushina's pranks had ever been. As the district had finally begun to make some progress, the vandals sought to destroy everything the refugees had built. To halt their growth and stamp them out from the roots.
Reports and requests for help sent to the military police were filed away and forgotten, until Fugaku stumbled upon them and demanded that his officers bring the offenders to justice. The military police, mobilized by their Police Chief, acted quickly and efficiently and caught the perpetrators with ease. But even though the district suffered many setbacks from the vandalism, no one pressed charges.
Strolling down the district streets, Fugaku notes how the children flock to Mikoto, eager to show her some trick they can perform. They giggle with glee and tug her along, her arm untangling from his, but they make sure to give Fugaku a wide berth. Any child he inadvertently locks eyes with scamper off with a yelp.
Crossing his arms, he leans against a lamp post, when he senses their cautious approach like cats squaring up an opponent. They creep slowly, confident in their supposed stealth, only to run away squealing and howling with laughter as Fugaku whips his head towards them. After several rounds of this, a smirk starts to grow on his lips.
He hides his growing amusement when Mikoto returns to him and takes his arm, the children sulking as the pair wave them goodbye. They walk through the district without a word, but it is a comfortable quiet as they let the sounds of the district fill in for their conversation. A familiar peal of hearty laughter rings out through the white noise, and when the two of them round the corner, they stumble upon a humble, quaint shop. A respectable wooden sign, with a pale green and dusty pink motif, displayed in Romanized characters and serif font: Haruno's Confectionary.
Fugaku's eyes widen just a smidge, as much expression as his reticence allows. So the boisterous idiot finally did it, he thinks. But even as the sign of the shop is posted in pristine condition, the rest of the shop is in complete disarray. The door is off its hinges and glass shards from broken windows riddle the ground. And in the midst of it all is a group of huddling, young teens.
Fugaku's sharingan lights up, and with swift, steadfast steps he jerks back the collar of the nearest teen.
"Hey—what the—" The teen initially scowls but quickly changes his tune when he spots the KMP emblem, "Whoa! I-I swear this isn't what it looks like!"
Fugaku recognizes the teen's face from mugshots taken after his group was taken in by the KMP, white hot anger starts to bubble up inside him. Mikoto moves a bit closer and looks on in concern. These are the vandals that nearly uprooted the refugee district, back for more vengeance? He vows that this time, their punishment will be strict and unrelenting, but his thoughts are interrupted when a mop of mauve hair bobs into view.
Kizashi guffaws and slaps Fugaku on the back, "Uchiha-sama! I see you're getting acquainted with my cleaning staff!"
Fugaku blinks back the red from his eyes as his inky black irises return, he scans the group of teenagers to find them holding brooms, dust pans, and cloth rags. The teen squirms from his grasp and scurries back to his friends, they inch further inside the shop and get back to work.
The Uchiha Police Chief frowns, "So you haven't sought to press charges, either."
Kizashi grins and shrugs, "Did you know they volunteered to help me out all on their own? Besides…" His grin softens into a wistful smile, "…everyone deserves a chance for a fresh start. You know?"
A fresh start, a chance for better opportunities. Does the refugee district think that if they treat the vandals with compassion, they'll somehow have the sentiment returned? These teenagers did not learn to hate from inside of a vacuum. The hate trickles down from the village, and the people's prevailing notions about refugees. Foreigners, outsiders, unwelcome and unwanted, draining Konoha of its resources.
But despite this, the inhabitants of the district persevere. They fight to find peace in a land that is not their own, managing to find joy through it all. Fugaku feels an overwhelming urge to preserve this, to help them in their pursuit of a better life after the war took everything from them.
Kizashi's smile transforms into a devious smirk, "Well, what do we have here?"
Fugaku furrows his brows as the mauve haired man waggles his at the young woman a few paces back, "And who is this lovely lady?" Kizashi slicks his hair back and straightens his shirt, but Fugaku moves to subtly barricade between the two.
"I'm…I'm Fugaku-san's fiancée. My name is Mikoto." She gives a polite, shy smile and lightly rests her hand on the Uchiha Police Chief's forearm. Kizashi's jaw drops, while Fugaku conceals a lopsided grin.
"Well Mikoto-chan and Uchiha-sama, welcome to Haruno's Confectionary! Sorry you had to see it this way, we'll get it up and running in no time!" Kizashi bellows.
Fugaku is a bit surprised when Mikoto offers, or more accurately, insists upon helping to repair the store. She rolls up her kimono sleeves and gets to work, along with her fellow Uchiha. While they clean, she seems to be impervious to Kizashi's puns, and the afternoon is filled with his booming, sonorous laughter and her giggles like wind chimes.
After finishing a large bulk of the work, they decide to call it a day and the pair wave as they saunter off into the setting sun. Just as they're leaving, a young woman walks past them with short blond hair and green eyes. Bounding towards Kizashi, she hands him a bento with a sweet smile. Their forms grow smaller in the distance, and although Fugaku can't hear their conversation, he smirks at the obvious blushing and fluster on Kizashi's face.
Fugaku and Mikoto quietly make their way home once more when her voice breaches the silence.
"He reminds you of Naruhito-nii, doesn't he?"
Fugaku raises his brows and glances at Mikoto, "You…you've met my brother?"
She nods, "Yes…we were introduced when I was very little. My parents had wanted to arrange our marriage since I was born, but Naruhito-nii never tried to force it. He was like a brother to everyone in the compound."
There is something sweet and peaceful about Mikoto, as though a soft smile always rests on her lips. Nostalgia colors her eyes, and Fugaku can't help feeling the same.
But his nostalgia tinges with pain, "It should've been him."
His somber tone halts the pair as they cross the red bridge, her eyes carefully watching his.
"He should've been Police Chief and Head of Clan. Even Itsuki could've done it. But they're not here anymore…and I… was too weak to save them." Fugaku does not want to tug at this thread, these feelings, but his proximity to Mikoto unravels something inside of him, "The Uchiha elders criticize me, they say I'm too soft. I know the military police feels the same. They say I'm nothing like my father. I just—"
He stops himself and purses his lips, as embarrassment settles in, feeling ridiculous for being so vulnerable.
"You're right. You're not Naruhito-nii, Itsuki-nii, nor Fuji-Sama." A gentle smile graces her lips, as their eye meet, "But the things that set you apart from them, are your strengths." And slowly, he notices how her silken hair falls around her shoulders, her lashes tangle at the corners of her eyes, and that her irises are not a deep black but a soft midnight. It is the mingling of lavender and deep blue at dusk.
"You're Fugaku." She says softly. "And that is enough."
She reaches a delicate hand towards his hair and threads her fingers through it. She combs out several cherry blossom petals that flutter away in the breeze, and suddenly it seems like a veil has been lifted. Like removing the shroud from his eyes, like restoring his sight.
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6 years ago
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When the Kyuubi attacks, it's utter devastation and its fury rains down on the refugee district. Being in the furthest reaches of town, the district is the first place breached by the Nine-Tailed fox. Several battle-hardened refugees take up arms but are no match for the beast, while a large portion of the refugees are just civilians who are lost in the mayhem and confusion.
The Konoha Shinobi scatter towards the heart of the village, and the refugee district is left to fend for themselves. But Fugaku doesn't hesitate, he sends KMP squads to aid various zones in Konoha while he leads the rest of the KMP himself, straight to the outskirts. His team fends off the Kyuubi, while other officers help evacuate the district.
Fugaku and his subordinates are coordinating attacks to keep the beast at bay, and in the heat of the battle the refugees flee. A mother helps the police officers direct the crowd, and an infant with the faintest pink hair is strapped to her front. A piece of debris breaks off from a home, threatening to crush the pair when a large katon batters it away.
A wisp of smoke floats off Fugaku's lips as he locks his red eyes with the mother's deep, forest green.
"Mebuki!"
Fugaku manages to hear a familiar voice despite the roars of the beast and the noise all around him. From a distance, he sees Kizashi dart towards the mother and infant, embracing them. The mauve haired man glances at Fugaku and nods with a tight smile, and the Uchiha returns the gesture. The mother breathes a sigh of relief, and although the infant startles at the commotion around her, clutching closer to her mother, she doesn't cry. The ground quakes and everything is in ruin, but the light features of the infant, with hair as pink as cherry blossoms, is in stark contrast to it all.
The sights sparks something in Fugaku, and he pushes forward with his fellow Uchiha in this grueling battle.
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Konoha is in pieces following the aftermath of the Kyuubi. Lives are lost, but the full impact of the attack is mitigated by the Konoha Police Force's swift call to action. Their evacuation procedures and Fugaku's leadership in fighting the beast is praised by the Yondaime. Ultimately, it is the Hokage's unmatched fuinjutsu that decides the fate of the battle, sealing away the Nine-Tailed Fox.
But despite all of the Uchiha Clan's valiant efforts, even with endorsement from the Yondaime, the villagers and the Konoha Council are out for blood. The trauma of the events weigh on them, and they need to make sense of it all. Konohagakure has not been invaded in years, and this most recent breach is one of its more devastating catastrophes. Ultimately, the village pins the blame on the Uchiha.
Anger, helplessness, fear. These emotions run high and the Uchiha become the conduit for them as they are made scapegoats for the attack. The Konoha Council, with an especially vocal Shimura Danzo, posit that only someone wielding a sharingan could control the beast. Years of paranoia and distaste for the Uchiha bubble to the surface and erupt. They motion for the clan to be exiled, citing decades of simmering hostility from these proud people and claim that the Uchiha have been this way since the founding of the village. It is high time Madara's descendants be cast out, the Konoha Council allege that Madara's poisonous ideals are steeped into the clan.
The Yondaime vehemently opposes the idea, but with the backwards politics of Konoha, the Konoha Council's united front on the matter has more sway over the Hokage's. Fugaku is caught in the middle of it all. As Uchiha Clan Head, the Uchiha elders are surprisingly tame, preferring to find a way to preserve their clan dignity. The Uchiha clansmen who make up the military police, as well the shinobi of the clan want to overthrow the Konoha Council altogether.
But it is Fugaku who finds a compromise, and he is the one who suggests relocating the Uchiha Compound further away from the heart of the village. No party is happy about this, and with much reluctance, each faction finally relents. The Konoha Council uproot the clan to the farthest reaches of Konoha, to the outskirts of town, adjacent to the most devastated region of the village: the refugee district.
A heaviness hangs in the air on the day of the Uchiha's relocation. Some grit their teeth in anger, others stew in somber silence, while some fret with the stress of the move. Yet the morning sun helps alleviate some of the tension, and as Fugaku takes a step out of his estate, he is surprised to see a grinning Kizashi at the gate.
The Uchiha Patriarch is further astonished to find that Kizashi has rallied the majority of the refugee district to aid the Uchiha Clan in their relocation.
"We want to show our gratitude to your clan, for always looking out for our families." He says, wrapping an arm around Mebuki, the woman Fugaku recalls as the confectioner's wife. Mikoto halts her progress in preparing boxes as she takes in the sight of the refugees, astounded by the massive turn out.
Several refugees, whose natural affinity is earth style, lift entire plots of Uchiha land, clear forests, and erect gates for the new compound. Villagers gawk at the site of pieces floating turf in the sky as a group of former shinobi carefully transport it. And while they cannot transfer all the structures of the compound, many other refugees help repair abandoned houses and buildings on the outskirts of town for the clansmen to inhabit.
The refugees and the clansmen work together over the next few weeks, and in the intervening time warm up to each other. They aid each other in the reconstruction of the refugee district as well as the renovation of the existing, dilapidated infrastructure in the new Uchiha Compound.
The brisk yet bright October chill gives way to a frosty, overcast winter, then eventually melts with the first buds of spring. Between reconstruction, duties as Clan Head, running the police force, and running his household (though truth be told, Mikoto is in full control of all affairs in that arena) Fugaku is worked to the bone.
On a sun-soaked afternoon in April, he wearily slumps into his foyer after another exhausting day of reports, forms, meetings and squabbles to sort out. He announces his arrival with only the soft whir of a fan humming in response. Just then, rumbling laughter pierces the peaceful quiet of his home.
He grumbles, knowing exactly who that laugh belongs to. Fugaku finds the shoji to their backyard slid open, and on the engawa his wife holds their sleeping infant son while chattering away with Mebuki who sips at her tea with his smile. His eldest son is enjoying a stick of dango by the koi pond, while a toddler, looking to be about a year old, wobbles and clutches his son's pant leg. Kizashi grins at the sight, with his arms perched on his hips.
Mikoto senses her husband, and she beams at him, "Welcome home, dear."
Kizashi whips around, "Uchiha-sama! It's good to see you!"
Fugaku frowns, "I've been meaning to say, you don't have to be so formal." His father was solemnly referred to as a Lord of the Clan, but Fugaku is not fond of such a stifling title.
"You've got it, Uchiha-san!" Fugaku fights the urge to roll his eyes, and the confectioner continues, "Your wife was just telling us about all your exciting roles and duties in the village! You're quite the busy man, can you believe it's been months since we've seen each other?!"
"Not long enough." Fugaku mutters, and Kizashi splutters at this, much to the Uchiha's amusement. Throughout the evening, Kizashi does much of the talking while Fugaku tries to enjoy his tea. Beside him is a tray of sweets from the confectioner's shop, and out of obligatory politeness as a host, he tentatively takes a bite of the daifuku. And to his surprise, it is genuinely delightful (though he keeps this to himself).
"Mebuki and I wanted to check on you and your family since the move. It seems the compound is thriving."
"Hn." Fugaku replies.
"The refugee district is humming along as well…despite that fox fiasco, it seems it's afforded a lot of us a fresh start." Kizashi's tone, his unwavering gaze, it brims with optimism, "Now we can really give our children the opportunities we've dreamed about."
Fugaku raises his brows, then glances at his sons. Through all the turmoil and tumultuous events in his life, he hadn't stopped to consider the future and what that might look like for his children. He comes to the startling realization that he now has agency to work against the systems that held the Uchiha back. And despite his many setbacks, he can shape a better path for his sons.
He tracks Kizashi's gaze to the little girl, with a pink tuft of hair atop her head and jade eyes, teetering towards his eldest son whose arms outstretch toward the toddler. At the corner of the estate, the blossom petals begin to peek from their buds.
Author's Note:
I'M IN DESPERATE NEED OF A BETAWRITER! please?
I went back in with the other chapters and fixed some grammar, spelling, and just some errors I missed. It's such a pet peeve of mine. I also changed the color of Sakura's ribbon to red, I couldn't decide.
And yes, I know Fugaku might seem too young for reading glasses, but the Mangekyo Sharingan takes its toll! Let's say the Uchiha have specialized optometrists and ophthalmologists.
There was also a tidbit inspired by the fanfiction: i let it fall, my heart by arabesque05. When I wrote about a metaphorical shroud around Fugaku's eyes, it was a reference to arabesque05's description of Uchiha courtship. If you haven't read that story, please do!
Anyway, I'll try to update this story as much as I can! I write out brief outlines that turn into these 3000 monster word counts, and my process is basically writing whenever the mood strikes or time allows. I'm super grateful for everyone's support and reviews, they are lovely and appreciated!