Chapter Fifteen
Uchiha Fugaku hadn't been the kindest of men in a long time.
Before the Third War, he'd been softer, friendlier, and just as naive as many of the current generation of shinobi. After all, his best friend had been the ever-kind Namikaze Minato and while the other was an unparalleled genius he had also been a bit gullible.
The war had changed that for their entire generation.
They'd grown too fast, too hard, too deadly and by the time Itachi had been born nearing the end of the second year of the war, the kind man he'd tried to be had been buried under years of bloodshed.
Then when Itachi was just four years old, he'd had the bright idea of taking him out onto the battlefield. It was supposed to be a lesson on what had to be done to protect what one loved and yet he'd only been able to watch in horror as his son had his first kill. Had watched as days later his son, his four-year-old baby had stepped off a cliff with no intention of living. When Itachi had returned home that night, he'd hugged him as tight as he dared and he'd vowed to be a better father.
He'd failed.
Epically.
The elders had discovered Itachi was a genius and suggested placing him in the academy and he had done so, hoping that the child would find a reason to live. He clung to that hope even as he noticed that the boy was withdrawing into himself and becoming quieter, more contemplative. He'd thought that it was something to do with the academy until he went to check on him one night and found him lying unconscious on his bedroom floor having nearly choked on his own blood.
Turns out he'd been ill, and hiding it for nearly six months, since just before he'd entered the academy because he'd assumed that the war was more important to all the adults around him.
It was the first time Fugaku had truly berated his son.
In the months that followed, the child seemed to grow weaker and weaker, coughing and vomiting blood though he always tried to hide it. Then Mikoto discovered she was pregnant with Sasuke and something changed.
The disease he was sure would kill their eldest began to slowly recede and by the time their youngest son was born, it seemed to be gone.
The iryo-nin called it a miracle, but Fugaku knew that it was because, for whatever reason, Itachi had decided that Sasuke was his purpose.
At the time, he hadn't cared. Anything to keep his son alive, but he had started to regret it later.
He regretted it when Mikoto, furious at the attention he gave Itachi, suggested enrolling Sasuke in the academy. When Itachi, freshly a chunin, had argued against her suggestion, angry in a way he rarely ever showed.
When the plans for the coup came about and Itachi reluctantly took his post as their information pipeline, joining the Anbu years younger than even the eye thief. When he returned with the scent of blood clinging to his armor and an empty look in his eyes.
Oh, how he regretted, and yet-
He couldn't bring himself to stop.
Not when it seemed like Sasuke and the coup were the only things tethering his son to life.
Then the massacre happened.
The massacre happened and with sudden clarity, he remembered hearing his son sobbing as he stood behind them blade poised to attack but trembling in hands that he had only ever seen sturdy.
It was at that moment that Fugaku suddenly felt disgusted with himself.
How had the mission taken over his life so far that he would doom a child, his child to bloody his hands with the blood of their family?
How was it that he had faced death and still had the heart to ask Itachi to take care of Sasuke as if his heir wasn't behind him broken in a way he never should've been?
And how was it that he couldn't bring himself to enter the house the Amekage and his entourage had taken as the accommodations?
Heaving a soft sigh, he raised his hand to knock on the door, before hesitating and turning to leave. The door opening stopped him.
"Uchiha-sama," The Nidaime stood in the doorway, scarlet eyes cool as they met his. Sasuke stood beside the man wearing a similarly cold expression. "I would hope you were coming to visit Itachi-Kun. He is awake."
"I-" He faltered, seeing something dark flash in his younger son's eyes at his perceived denial. "I was…if he wishes to see me."
The former Kage nodded. "He does. Come."
Turning the snow-haired man led him inside while Sasuke stared at him for a moment longer then huffed. "Took you long enough." The teen muttered and he chuckled, a bit of self-depreciation slipping into the sound despite himself.
"I know."
When they reached the room Itachi was in, they all froze wide-eyed both Uchiha stunned at the sight before them.
Itachi and Hoshigaki were sitting face to face on the younger's bed, lips locked together in a gentle kiss that looked nothing less than passionate.
"I'm sorry," Itachi whispered between kisses. "I love you."
"I love you too, Itachi-san." Kisame rumbled pulling away and resting his forehead against the smaller man's shoulder. "But if you ever do that to me again, I will kill you myself."
Golden eyes slid towards them then the owner sighed and stood. "We can talk more later."
"Of course. You should rest."
A small smile crossed thin blue lips before they pressed chastely against Itachi's own. "I will. Take it easy."
Sending them another look, the former Kiri-nin left the room and Itachi sighed turning his gaze towards them.
"Sasuke, Nidaime-sama," something vulnerable flickered through his eyes, "Tou-san."
"Itachi…" There were so many things he wanted to say and yet what left his lips was-
"What is your relationship with that man?"
"He is my husband." Sasuke choked at his response while Fugaku nodded having guessed as much.
"I see." He hesitated. "Can we…talk?"
The tightening in his son's shoulders was almost visible as the younger man drew his walls up higher around himself and his heart.
"Hai."
He stared, not sure what to say, then decided to go with what he had wanted to do all those years ago.
He reached out and hugged the other.
He was distantly aware of the Nidaime leaving the room to leave the three Uchiha alone but he couldn't bring himself to care ad he felt his son slowly begin to relax in his arms. Sasuke joined them a moment later and something in Fugaku's heart began to settle.
The door to the room clicked open then another person joined the hug, his wife's scent of lilac and sea water washing over him. Finally, he spoke.
"Did you know, I saw you that day? The day you former the pact you have with the crows."
Itachi stiffened. "Tou-san,"
"I promised myself that I would be a better father after that. That I would give you something to live for because for months after, I couldn't shake the image of my four-year-old son trying to end his own life."
Mikoto and Sasuke gasped staring at the two wide-eyed.
"What?"
Fugaku continued. "When you met Shisui, it started to get better, but then you got sick and I thought we would lose you anyways. It was only Sasuke's birth that saved you. I-" He huffed a broken-sounding laugh. "I have no idea what I was going to say. I'm not like your baka godfather. I'm not good with words, Itachi. But, that night, all I could think about was the image of you falling off that cliff all those years ago and how at peace you seemed with it and it hurt. I guess- I- what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry for not stopping the council from turning you into a weapon, for helping by training you more and more. I'm sorry for not being the father you deserved. That our plans left your hands stained with the blood of your kin when you were barely more than a child."
A tear escaped his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Itachi."
In his arms his heir remained silent, minute tremors shaking his slender frame and when Futgaku looked up from his own hands he saw that the boy was crying silently, anger, grief, and agony in his eyes. Sasuke swallowed at the sight having never seen his brother look so devastated, his chest tightening and he hugged him tighter.
Fugaku tightened his grip on his children, murmuring soft soothing words to them both.
Nothing was near fixed and he knew that there was still alot to talk about, alot to heal and yet-
Yet, as his gaze met his wife's over their children's heads he couldn't help but think that just maybe everything would be alright.
Eventually.
