CHAPTER 1: THE ONE WHO HAS RETURNED
"Who are you?" the little girl demanded, her voice a delightful chirp.
A tug on his cloak jolted him from his brooding. He looked down to find a cherubic face tilted up at him, framed by a halo of honey-brown hair. Chocolate, already melting under the relentless Konoha sun, smeared a smudge across one dimpled cheek. Large, emerald green eyes sparkled with hero worship.
"Uchiha Sasuke," he replied, his lone visible eye, a dark onyx orb, scrutinizing the child's bright gaze. Despite himself, a flicker of amusement danced in its depths.
A grin, impossibly wide, stretched across her face. "You look cool!" she squealed, her enthusiasm causing the ice cream cone clutched in her tiny hand to wobble precariously. A blob of vanilla dribbled down her knuckles.
With a sigh that was more resigned than irritated, Sasuke produced a handkerchief from his pocket. Crouching down, he carefully cleaned the sticky mess from her hand.
"Thank you!" she chirped, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a genuine smile. Then, with a burst of youthful energy, she was off, rejoining a gaggle of children gathered around a brightly coloured ice cream cart.
Sasuke straightened, his tall frame resuming its imposing stance amidst the throng of bustling villagers. The Konoha sun, ever-present, seemed to cast a warmer glow here compared to the world he toured, its rays a touch gentler. He couldn't explain it, this shift in perception, but it was undeniable. Even the sky, a canvas of vibrant blue, stretched wider in the village, adorned with wispy clouds that danced in a carefree sway. His mismatched eyes swept across the vista laid out before him – the familiar scenery of the Uchiha District with a stark contrast of the vibrant life pulsing around him, mingling within the Uchiha grounds.
Gone were the bloodstained ruins, the grim testament to his family's demise. Here, where once stood a desolate tableau of fallen houses, a new Uchiha district bustled with life. Tall apartment buildings replaced the single-story dwellings, their ground floors teeming with shops. Food carts on every corner offered a symphony of aromas – sweet, savory, and spicy – tempting passersby with each waft. The market stretched before him, a vibrant tapestry of clothing, groceries, gleaming new appliances, and even shinobi weaponry. Even a well-furnished hospital stood sentinel in the distance.
Naruto had kept his word. Sasuke wandered the streets, a silent observer of the transformation he himself had unwittingly enabled.
Eight years! For Eight years, he hadn't explored Konoha. His visits were confined to the Hokage Tower, mere formalities to update Naruto or endure his incessant pleas for Sasuke to embrace village life.
Scattered amongst the modern apartment buildings were a few old-style, single-family homes. Carefully restored, they retained the charm of the past, their facades adorned with climbing vines. In front of each, a pocket-sized garden bloomed. Lavender, its soft purple hues dancing in the sun, filled the air with a calming fragrance, a gentle counterpoint to the bustling energy of the district. The scent washed over Sasuke, momentarily pulling him into a state of serenity.
The gentle sway of lavender stems in the breeze whispered a promise of tranquillity, a balm to Sasuke's harried heart. His feet were instinctively steering him towards a familiar destination, but a sudden pull of curiosity halted him near the blossoming gardens. He found himself drawn to the vibrant hues – blues and purples that shimmered like jewels under the sunlight. An impulse urged him to step inside, to reconnect with this small piece of beauty.
But something held him back. Perhaps it was the figure cloaked by long, dark hair working diligently in the garden, a figure that was crouched down on the ground, with her back to him. He didn't want to disturb someone. With a sigh, he forced himself to move on, a silent promise echoing in his mind – to return to the flowers.
As his feet carried him towards the former location of the Uchiha Manor, a mental barrier he'd meticulously constructed began to crumble. Flashbacks, uninvited guests, barged into his present, vivid echoes of a childhood shattered. But Sasuke was different now, older, wiser, and capable of weathering the storm. He allowed the horrifying memories to swirl, engulfing him for a moment, before squeezing his eyes shut, forcing them back into the shadows.
His eyes fluttered open, the black iris of his Sharingan bleeding crimson before reverting to its usual obsidian depths. The empty space where his childhood home once stood was a stark reminder of what he'd lost. Yet, it was now also a blank canvas, an unspoken invitation. He, the Uchiha, stood at a crossroads.
As if it had been waiting for Sasuke Uchiha to return and claim. After all, he was the Uchiha Clan himself.
And he had a wife, also...a child. Revived Uchiha Clan. Yet Sasuke still kept himself distant from his village, his birth place, his clan, his family. Yet, a self-imposed exile kept him at bay, a chasm between him and his birthright, his village, his family. The justifications that burned on his tongue remained unspoken; their ashes swallowed down in a bitter silence.
From atop a vantage point, he surveyed the revitalized district. A hint of a smile played on his lips. He had, in some small way, contributed to its rebirth. Rebuilding the Uchiha district was a form of penance, a debt he owed. Gratitude flickered within him – for Naruto's unwavering faith, and perhaps, for the village that had chosen to embrace a place forever tainted by the shadows of the past filled with blood and hatred.
A memory, vivid as yesterday, flickered in his mind, a conversation from thirteen years ago...
.
.
"You again want to leave?" Naruto was slumped onto the couch beside the Hokage's desk, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.
Sasuke offered a curt nod, his gaze fixed on the bustling cityscape outside the window.
"Sakura's expecting," Naruto continued, his voice laced with a weary longing. "Hinata and I are having our first kid. You're going to miss everything." He took a tentative sip from a cup filled with what Sasuke instantly recognized as Tsunade's prized sake.
"I'll visit," Sasuke replied curtly, his voice barely a whisper. He couldn't bring himself to turn around, to meet Naruto's disappointed gaze.
Naruto's footsteps echoed as he crossed the room, his presence a tangible weight pressing down on Sasuke's shoulders. "This village will always have a place for you, Sasuke. I'm making damn sure of it."
He felt Naruto's newly constructed arm snake around his neck, its warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within him. Sasuke grunted a noncommittal reply.
"And listen, I have a plan…well, more like Hinata's brainchild, really. I just helped Kakashi with the details. Once I become Hokage, I can put it into action. Or maybe even now..." Naruto nudged Sasuke playfully. "Kakashi can handle it too, if you're open to it… But hey, I get it if you need time to think about it."
"Spit it out, dobe," Sasuke finally huffed, pushing Naruto's arm away with a forced indifference.
A wide grin stretched across Naruto's face. "Your district, Sasuke. You're the sole owner, remember? It took some hits from Pain's attack, the war… things haven't been easy." He placed a comforting hand on Sasuke's shoulder, a silent offer of support amidst the crumbling remains of their shared past. "So, we figured… we could rebuild it. Different from before. Of course, it'll still be the Uchiha District, but the layout, the infrastructure… everything could be completely different. And with the war refugees pouring in, Konoha needs both residential and commercial space. Your district… well, it could be a bridge, a way to open hearts to the Uchiha name again."
Sasuke stepped away, allowing Naruto yet another liberty, "On paper it is mine, otherwise it is yours. You do as you please with it. You and Kakashi both are allowed."
Naruto protested, as expected, "You have to think about it, Teme...it is your home."
"It was. Not anymore. I have yet to find my home," Sasuke mumbled.
Naruto ignored the underlying pain in his voice. Sasuke appreciated. "You'll get every single ryo in profit. You'll be richer than anyone in Konoha, Shikamaru says." He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I don't want it," Sasuke dismissed.
Ignoring his protest, Naruto landed a playful punch on his arm, earning a glare in return. "I didn't ask, Teme. I told you. You're taking the money. Deal with it. Unless, of course, you want me to force you?"
Sasuke rolled his eyes, a flicker of amusement threatening to break through his stoic façade. "Fine, fine. Richest man of Konoha, huh? Just means I'll have more to fund your bottomless ramen pit, I guess."
"You know me too well, Teme," Naruto cackled, pulling Sasuke into a forced hug, a warm counterpoint to the storm raging inside him.
"Yeah," Sasuke mumbled into Naruto's shoulder, a single word that held the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions, a farewell cloaked in the guise of a casual goodbye.
.
.
Naruto's unwavering dedication surprised no one more than Sasuke himself. A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he recalled the promise woven into Naruto's words that day. The Uchiha District, once a symbol of tragedy, now pulsed with life. Konohagakure's citizens, from other clans to war refugees, had embraced the name and the once-tainted place as their own.
Yet, Sasuke remained adrift. He hadn't found his home.
Thirteen years of atonement. Eight years of self-imposed exile with no contact from Konoha. Now, Sasuke returned, empty-handed, seeking solace in the very place he'd once abandoned. His mission: to find his place, his warmth, his home.
The first step – confronting his past and forging a future. He would start by getting to know his daughter and face the wife who awaited him. The gnawing self-awareness at the back of his mind was a constant reminder – he wasn't who they thought he'd be. He knew it, all too well.
Sasuke couldn't imagine himself as father; the last time he had faced those big beady dark eyes of his daughter was when she was four. He himself was twenty-four, now as a thirty-three-year-old man, Sasuke was clueless. Empty.
Years of distance had left their bonds wilted, and he was uncertain about how to coax them to bloom to life.