This chapter is split into two perspectives. I was going to split them into two different chapters, but felt like it would have made them too short individually and would have disrupted the flow of the fic itself. Anyway, enough rambling. Happy Reading!


The winds are changing, grandmother knows best.

pain that breathed fire


Out of all the hobbies that Haru enjoyed over the years, flower arrangement was something he had not originally believed would take up as much of his time as it now did. At first he had been apprehensive, Mikoto had been overeager, and as a 7 year old who had not known anything about the woman he had been rigid around her. His mother had been reluctant at first, not wanting to relent to Itachi's pleas to allow him time with Mikoto.

He remembered clearly the day he had met her, she had shown up unannounced, eyes brimming with tears. He had recoiled then as she reached for him, his breath coming in small puffs as he struggled to get sufficient air into his lungs without breathing in the salt of her sorrow. He panicked, knowing that his mother would act strong as she fractured before his eyes. He had bitten his cheek to keep his own tears from flowing, confused and afraid. But Hinata had been gracious, and seeing that she would not be able to keep the older woman from seeking them out, allowed them time together, as long as it happened in their home.

Mikoto had been grateful and began showing up over the weekends in earnest, arms filled with flowers. Quietly over the weekends she had taught him the importance of Evergreen Pine for New Years. The precision required to keep the flowers fresh for as long as possible. The balance between life and death, determined only by the care given to the stem as they arranged the simple pieces together.

Today she was quiet, gazing thoughtfully out the engawa where they sat towards her garden. As the years had passed it became evident that the older Uchiha couple was there to stay and willing to do whatever it took to spend time with him. Eventually his mother relented, allowing them to bring Haru to their home as well as other places, where her watchful eye could not follow. Haru carefully set down the blossoms he had been working with and took a deep breath, turning to look at her.

"Is… is everything ok?" Haru's question was tentative, still unsure of how best to communicate with the older woman, even after all these years.

"Oh, yes, my darling boy. The winds are changing rather early this year." She sighed wistfully. Haru furrowed his brow, wondering if she had finally begun to speak as cryptically as his mother and panicked for a moment. He didn't know her well enough to read the nuance in her voice or the meaning of her words.

"Nothing ever stays the same," he mumbled softly, looking down. "You taught me that Mikoto."

"That is certainly true," she said, mirth making her words softer before soft laughter followed. Reaching over to him she ruffled his hair. "Such a smart boy."

"Mama says we will celebrate my birthday at home," he fixed his messy bangs bashfully as he spoke. "Will… will you and Fugaku come?" The question was hopeful, his eyes staring at the wood between them.

"Goodness me," she gasped. "We've not missed a single birthday since we learned of you Haru, of course we will be there." The soft sound of a door sliding open had them both looking up towards the new addition to the engawa.

Fugaku gave his wife an affectionate look before taking a seat next to Haru and undoing the work the youth had done by also ruffling his hair. His lips turning slightly upwards in a taciturn smile.

"I see we have abandoned our Ikebana early today." He hummed, moving cherry blossom branches into a neat pile around the container they were going to use to arrange them.

"The winds are changing early this year," his wife supplied, exchanging a meaningful look with him past Haru between them.

"Or so you say my love, but I hardly find it necessary for it to take away from your time together, the winds change all the time." His gruff voice sounded almost amused and Haru wondered if he would too sound like that once he reached Fugaku's age.

Mikoto looked reproachfully at her husband and Haru could barely contain the smile threatening to bloom on his face. This house had become his second refuge in his younger years. At first he sat quietly at the table, not daring to make a noise. Listening to Mikoto's instructions on how to best cut the branches and how to best arrange them in a number of different containers. Trying desperately to gain her acceptance. When he was a child he often wondered about his father. If he had the warm gaze of his mother, or if he shared the stern downturn of his father, but even through all those flower arrangements that he painstakingly put together with Mikoto, he never asked.

He couldn't be sure when it was that he realized that this couple were his grandparents. Somewhere in his mind at the age of 8 he had made the connection. He knew that this meant that Itachi was his uncle, and not his father as he had so desperately wished at that time. Haru's father was the other son of the Uchiha couple, and though he had never met him, or heard any mention of him while he spent time with them, he knew that he was somewhere out there in the world. Fugaku and Mikoto loved him unconditionally, he could tell by the way that they looked at him. Haru knew that they would never do anything to hurt him, if they could help it.

Part of him knew that they didn't mention him for his sake, and the kindness they showed him was so blinding it hurt.

"Your birthday is coming up," Fugaku said as he crossed his arms and stared at the garden beyond the enagawa. "Is there something you would like?"

"Hm," Haru hated that question, he never knew how to answer it, and it had not been until he had been 10 that he stopped worrying if a birthday present was putting undue stress on his mother. "Truthfully, your presence during my birthday celebration would be enough."

"Haru," Mikoto stared at him, lips slightly parted, eyes threatening to fill with tears. "There must be something you would like to receive."

"Don't be shy," Fugaku pressed. "We would be delighted to get you a gift."

"Ah," a blush spread over his cheeks as he tried but failed to contain the joy their words brought him from overtaking him. "P-perhaps, if it's not too much, some of your favorite tea," he said, looking shyly at Fugaku. "And… uhm, maybe your favorite sweets?" He added turning to look at Mikoto. Quickly he looked down towards the floor, missing the worried look the two older Uchihas exchanged.

"Of course, that would never be too much to ask!" Mikoto exclaimed, wringing her hands together, Fugaku simply hummed his agreement.

Haru lifted his head, a rare smile playing shyly upon his lips. Fugaku's fist clenched, knuckles turning white under his haori, trying his best to let this muddy emotion pass without anyone taking note of it.

"Now that you mention tea, I really should make us some, would you care to stay for tea?" Mikoto asked as she stood. "Ikebana can wait until another day, we have so much time after all."

"Ah! Do you need help?" Haru asked, moving to stand.

"You know I'd never decline your company," she smiled brightly and Haru followed her inside, head politely bowed.

Fugaku watched them go and released the breath he had been holding. Haru had come into their lives accidentally, his existence a zealously guarded secret by his oldest son. Had he not barged into Itachi's home that day, he did not know if he would ever have gotten to see the 7 year old as he grew up for the last 7 years.


It had been a particularly brutal winter and Itachi had missed work, which was highly unusual for his diligent son, at his wife's behest he had gone to see him at his home. Entering the house quietly and noting with a furrow in his brow the pair of children's shoes at the entryway. Fugaku and Mikoto had not been to Itachi's house in well over a year, he could not remember when his son began exclusively going to them, essentially locking them out of the house he owned.

Quietly he made his way through the living room, noting, with a growing frown the randoseru sitting by the dining room table, the first grade school books, and an apron far too feminine to belong to his son. He then heard the cough coming from one of the rooms towards the right. He walked slowly, his heart beating in his throat loudly, the drumming sound reminiscent of a hummingbird's wings. His hand hovered over the fusuma, unsure and hesitant. For the first time in his life, since Mikoto had given birth to their youngest son, Fugaku felt fear. It settled itself solidly at the pit of his stomach, dry ice freezing his insides painfully. He became distinctly aware that in his veins cold water seemed to flow instead of warm blood. What had Itachi been hiding? Who was hiding behind the door?

He swallowed, steeled himself and slowly pulled the door open. At first he thought he had died, and this was a cruel joke being played on him as his heart stopped supplying oxygen to his brain. Sitting there, diligently nursing someone who looked too much like Sasuke to not be his son, was Hinata. The lost Heiress of the Hyuuga clan. His best friend's beloved oldest, who had vanished over 6 years ago. Her eyes lifted to meet his, widening in shock. Time seemed to slow down as he took in her face, much thinner than he remembered her. Her clothes were oversized, second-hand, worn ragged and old. He noted, stunned, that she looked too thin. She stood quickly, blocking the sick child from his view.

Time returned to its normal flow, when the front door opened in a hurried slide too loud to be ignored and Fugaku heard his son rushing towards him, disheveled and afraid. Fugaku was still in a trance, looking past Hinata's shoulder towards the boy breathing laboriously on the futon behind her. The child coughed and his trance dissipated, anger replacing the thin veil of stupefied horror he felt.

"Living room, both of you. Now." His tone left no room for questions, no room for protests and glancing behind her once Hinata nodded her head slowly.

"Father," Itachi was breathless, his eyes wide. "Father please, I can explain."

"You will have your turn boy, but first," his nostrils flared, betrayal made his mouth taste like iron and he tried, but failed, to rein in the glare he burned Hinata with. "First, I believe she has much more explaining to do."

He waited until Hinata had left the room before following her and Itachi towards the living room, leaving the door open behind them in case the child should need tending to. He might be angry, but he recognized a sick child when he saw one. As she turned the corner he allowed himself to look at him more clearly. His pupils shook with the undeniable fact that this was his grandson, a grandson he had no knowledge of, a grandson that was kept from him, from his wife, and from his son. He held onto this knowledge, kindling for the fire that burned with his rage. Knowledge that kept him from weeping in relief at having found Hinata.

Briefly he wondered if Hiashi knew and if instead of having ran away, Hinata had been disowned. Fury flared now, but he knew his friend, he would never have allowed her to become a walking skeleton. He would have been disappointed, but she would have been supported. He sat opposite of them and if he was honest, he was surprised that they had not been furiously whispering excuses to placate him with. Itachi looked contrite. Hinata looked resigned, but defiant.

"Explain, and tell me why I shouldn't call Hiashi and Sasuke this instant." He demanded, giving her a withering look. To her credit she did not wilt under his stare.

Taking a deep breath she briefly explained what had happened, from the moment she disappeared, until now. He could tell that she had omitted parts, sections of the story that he did not need to know, memories too painful to share. He listened, arms crossed, and did not interrupt her. He watched his son, as he stared directly at the table between them, biting his lip to keep from speaking, and if his eyes did not betray him, trembling ever so slightly. Anger was roiling from him, and when it seemed to crescendo past the point of no longer being contained, he watched as she placed a hand on his arm calming him and allowing him a moment to breathe before she continued with her tale. She did not detail how her and her son ended up living with Itachi, but at this point it was of no consequence. They were here now, and the secret could not be kept.

"Hiashi must be informed," he said, after a lapse in the explanation from Hinata. He watched her turn rigid, her eyes hardening to a gaze that resembled her father's. "I will not keep this from him. Sasuke…" he sighed, bowing his head. "Sasuke has obviously shown that he has no interest in knowing, and thus I will not bother to tell him either. But your father, his grandfather, deserves to know."

"Please, I…" she began, her protest dying before leaving her throat at his glare.

"Mikoto too, you will not keep him from us." He stressed and watched as her back straightened.

"You are in no position to make demands from me," she bit back, her Hyuuga eyes staring at him in a way that made him reminisce of his younger days butting heads with Hiashi. "Haru is my son, I gave Sasuke ample opportunity and information in regards to him, information he made clear he had no desire to know."

"You expect me to pay for my son's callousness?" Fugaku's voice was beginning to rise, but Hinata did not shrink before him.

"You are the ones who raised him, who, if not his parents should pay for the callousness they imparted him with?" She murmured, voice clear though low. Next to her, Itachi sucked in a loud breath as he silently watched them.

Fugaku slammed his hand down on the table, making both Hinata and Itachi flinch. He glared, sitting straighter and holding her stare.

"You expect that you will do better in raising him alone? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? If there is anything I should have to pay for, it is the fact that Itachi seems to be starving you." It was now her turn to take a sharp breath as she rose to meet his challenge.

"Haru has been well provided for, he has never wanted for anything, and he will want for nothing. Your existence has been inconsequential to him up to this point, and if he ever bothered to ask about his Father I would simply would have told him the truth. You have no right to demand we welcome you into our lives." Itachi looked at her, panic blooming in his eyes as she whispered these words.

"You shall leave him an orphan if you believe for one moment that providing for your child only includes feeding them and not yourself," this was whispered in worry. Fugaku's eyes softened, eyes fixed upon her wrist, he was sure that if he grabbed one and did not control his strength the bones would snap like an icicle after the weather had began to warm.

Hinata gasped, staggering backwards. Itachi stood, gently placing a hand upon her back to steady her. His eyes filled with concern. She shook his touch away and stood her ground, glaring at Fugaku in the way that only she could, not quite menacing, but firm and resolved.

"You will not take him from me," she said through gritted teeth as she fiercely stared Fugaku down.

"I do not know where you are getting this notion that we want to take him from you." He looked at her, the fire gone from his eyes. "We would be remiss to not welcome you into our lives with open arms. Both of you."

The steam seemed to evaporate from within Hinata, promptly buckling her knees beneath her and landing her softly back on the chair. She looked lost, dazed and confused. Itachi looked at her worriedly before sitting back down, biting the inside of his cheek to keep him from asking if she was ok.

Fugaku closed his eyes and sighed, downturned lips lifting slightly and he took her in before clearing his throat to speak.

"There are those who have missed you, Hinata." He supplied softly. "Not just your family, but mine as well, Mikoto will be delighted to hear that you are ok."

She gasped then, breaths coming in short bursts. Her face was panic stricken as she lifted her gaze to look at him, and he saw the fear in her eyes for the first time since he had entered into his son's home. He could not imagine that it had been easy for her to raise a child, to run from her home, her friends, her family and face this all alone. We could not imagine the hardships she had gone through, the heartbreak she must have dealt with, but he would be damned if he allowed her to continue alone, even for a single day.

"Tachi." A small rough whisper sliced through the tense silence and Itachi sprung from his chair, walking towards it. "Tachi, it's warm. 'mthirsty…" Haru was rubbing his eyes, his cheeks were flushed by his fever and his eyes did not seem to take in his surroundings

"Haru," he began, reaching for the boy whose arms were already extended towards his uncle. "Do you need water?" Itachi's low whisper snapped Hinata back into attention, the panic that had previously been gnawing at her gone and Fugaku watched in wonder as she collected herself immediately and headed for the kitchen, to grab the boy some water.

Itachi glanced at his father, Haru now safely in his arms. His small body was limp in his embrace, his warm face resting against his shoulder and his small breaths coming in puffs. Evidently afflicted by the fever that he suffered from. Hinata came up from his right as Itachi rocked Haru handing him a sippy cup with water. Itachi adjusted the boy in his arms to aid in his drinking from the cup. Gunmetal eyes lazily opened as he was prompted by Itachi and Hinata and locked with Raven's wing black. Fugaku could only remember a handful of times where he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that the feeling he felt blooming in his chest was love. The first time was when he laid eyes on Mikoto, the second was when he held Itachi for the first time, the third time, undoubtedly, was when he held Sasuke, and the fourth time was when he locked eyes with his grandson for the first time.


Whew... Hi. Hello. Howzit.

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Uhm, normally I feel like I am rather wordy when it comes to my author notes, but today words escape me. There were a few reviews that I wanted to talk about in here, but I feel like it would be just argumentative? I do want to point out that we don't know how we will react in certain circumstances until we are in them. We could detail a plan down to the last minute and still react differently when things actually happen. Though I don't disagree that there is a certain suspension of disbelief that is required in this story, I don't want to pretend to know how I would have acted in her shoes.

I also realized recently I wrote myself into a hole, so there has been some panic on how I am going to fix the hole, wish me the best of luck!

As a side note, writing Fugaku was so cathartic this chapter, I don't really know why though.

Thank you again for continuing to read this story, I appreciate all the reviews.

With love, Emi