The silence is heavy in the wake of Sasuke's departure. Itachi turns his eyes from the doorway his brother left through and returns them to his parents. His mother glares in disappointment at his father, straight-backed and fervent, as Fugaku sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before steadily meeting his wife's stare.
"You shouldn't have treated him that way." She tells him firmly, though her voice is soft, it carries weight to it. Itachi looks away, into the now cool cup of tea in his hands before settling the small cup back on the table as his mother continues, voice low and serious. "You know how fragile this issue is, we should be making him feel welcome, not trapped."
"He should be aware of the severity of his current situation," Fugaku quickly replies, calm and unbothered. "That boy has already made quite a mess for us and this village, he should know his place here. We haven't taken him in out of kindness, but out of necessity. We are the only ones equipped to handle him if he proves to be more of a threat than he has already shown us he can be."
"I'm not denying the situation, Fugaku." Mikoto continued sharply. "I just think it could be handled better. We should try to earn his trust, not make him feel like a prisoner. It's probably already hard enough being here after what he's been through. We don't need to complicate things even more for him. For us." She finishes, sighs, and collects the barely touched tray of food Sasuke left behind, drawing Itachi's eyes to her movements as she rises and moves toward the small counter space near the sink.
"He's not our son Mikoto." His father says quietly, stopping his mother's movements. Itachi's eyes move to look at him. He looks older than he did a few moments ago, his eyes downcast, and a frown marring his features—as if the words themselves wrung the life from him. In his peripheral vision, his mother takes the last few steps to the counter and unloads the tray's contents.
"He's an S-rank missing-nin, who possesses a rare dojutsu that is only told of in obscure scripture." Fugaku continues after a pause. He turns his eyes to his wife as she returns to the table with the empty tray. " You know what is said about that eye. The world may not be in such discord, but we are far from at peace. And if what Inoichi pulled from that boy's head is true, he's already had plans to tear his world apart to bring about his own idea of it."
Itachi watches as his mother kneels back at the table, face blank and unreadable, and begins to collect the rest of the dishes onto the tray.
"He may not be our son in this life, but we weren't there for him in his." She says quiet and feather-light, disrupting the faint sound of ceramic being arranged upon lacquered wood.
A well of guilt that shouldn't belong to him swells in the pit of Itachi's stomach at her words, deep-rooted and abhorrent. The whispers of the life his other self carved for his brother knotting his insides.
"All I'm saying is that we could at least try to be there for him, and maybe in return, we can gain more insight into how we can manage this." She finishes as she shifts and lifts the tray, turning toward the counter once more. Leaving them to sit with her faint words as they settle into the silence.
His mother's words ring true, and Itachi thinks of how Sasuke looked at him the night before. Like he couldn't believe he was there with him, as if he would float away on the wind any second. The way he gently gripped his wrist and asked him to stay, small and afraid like the child he no longer was. All the things this other him had done to Sasuke, and Sasuke still craved his attention. Just like his little brother always had. So he stayed, kept Sasuke company as he slowly fell asleep, only to wake hours later in the dark, fingers still gently entwined around the others.
If he could ease the hurt inside him and make this space comfortable for him, he would do whatever it takes.
His father thought of this as a mission, attempting to distance himself from the ties he has with his newfound ward. But Itachi could never, though not his little brother, there was no denying this was Sasuke, and he needed their help. And maybe Itachi could offer that help.
"Perhaps that should be left to me." He breathes into the air, quiet and collected. Drawing his father's questioning gaze. "He seems comfortable with me, maybe I can establish more of a connection with him." He pauses for a moment before adding, "And maybe, he'll be able to trust me enough to open up more so I can determine just how much of a threat he is, and how we may navigate that." He says, clinical in his approach, hoping to play into his father's mindset. "Besides, Lord Hokage will expect me to report to him about how he is settling in and any relevant information we can gather from his time here anyway." He finishes resolutely.
Fugaku crosses his arms in front of him as his eyes settle once more on the now clean table. He hums his acknowledgment as he contemplates Itachi's suggestion. The silence stretches between them for a few moments, only broken by the soft sounds of Mikoto preparing another pot of tea. He sighs.
"That seems to be the best option we have for now." Fugaku breathes into the air, tired. His eyes turn back to Itachi's as he speaks. "Keep an eye on him. Report back with whatever you can find."
"Of course, father," Itachi speaks, he gives his father a small bow before he rises from the table to cross the room. He bends to open a cabinet near the sink and pulls free a small towel. He chooses the plate closest to him on the drying rack and gently wipes away the water clinging to its surface.
His thoughts turn back to Sasuke as he turns and opens another cupboard to place the plate back on its shelf. Sasuke almost seemed surprised at himself for accepting their mother's offer, dazedly making his way toward the table, forcing himself through motions as if he weren't sure of himself. Physically, he was sitting at that table with them, but mentally, he had turned inwards, shying away from the reality he had been faced with. His mental state fragile and cracking under the stress of the past few days, it's no wonder his father's scrutiny had caused him to lash out.
The cold anger that articulated Sasuke's every word, his every move, made the well of guilt inside him grow. But also brought forth determination to make sure Sasuke felt more at home. To show him that the ghosts of his past didn't have to haunt him forever. That maybe they could help lift him from his pain and bring him some comfort, no matter how small. He wanted to bandage the still bleeding wounds he had inflicted upon his brother, and help him heal.
He continues to dry and put away the dishes his mother washes as he sorts through his thoughts. He should seek out Sasuke when he's finished here. Hopefully, he's had enough time to cool his temper and is sulking in his room like he used to when emotions ran high. Perhaps he would take him out to get a few necessities. Itachi didn't mind sharing, but he knew Sasuke would appreciate having some things of his own. And perhaps getting out of the house for a bit may help ground him.
The kettle whistles, drawing him from his thoughts, and his mother moves away to steep the tea.
"I'm going to forgo another cup for now, if that's alright," Itachi says as he dries the teacup Sasuke barely drank from and sets it in its place, gently closing the cabinet door behind it. "I think I'm going to go talk to Sasuke. See if he needs anything."
He turns to look at his mother as she finishes pouring the tea into two cups, leaving the third empty. She sets down the pot and turns to him with a warm smile. Her hand touches his arm, and the other takes the towel from him. "Of course, dear. I think that's a wonderful idea." His mother says, her hand rubs his arm for a moment before hanging the towel to dry. Then, she turns back to the tray with its steaming cups of tea, and she picks it up. "Let me know if there's anything you need." She finishes making her way back to the low table, setting the tray down and taking her seat, passing a cup of tea to Fugaku, who mumbles out a soft thank you.
Itachi takes his leave quietly and makes his way down the hall toward Sasuke's room, hoping he can convince Sasuke to come out with him. His father may not be too perceptive of the idea if he knew what Itachi was planning, but he would be with Sasuke and would make sure nothing happened. No one would question the brothers being out together; they had always been close. No one would know this was any other Sasuke than the one they've known. He just wanted Sasuke to feel like he wasn't being stifled despite what had happened.
He lets out a soft sigh as he stops just outside the door, gently rapping his knuckles against the wood a few times.
"Sasuke? May I come in?" He says into the air and waits.
"Sasuke?" He says again, as his knuckles make contact with the wood a few more times. Still no answer, no sound of movement or whisper of cloth. His fingers catch on the door and slide it open a few inches before opening it fully, letting the humidity from outside into the hall. The room is empty, futon still a mess from where Sasuke had most likely left it when he woke, and the door to the garden standing wide.
Itachi makes his way across the room and out onto the engawa, looking around. He doesn't see Sasuke, so he steps down onto the stones and out into the garden, turning around to look at the roof, hoping to see Sasuke hiding atop its tiles. When he finds nothing, he wanders down the path further into the garden, past the koi pond, and under the maple's leaves. All he finds is more of his mother's flowers and a small thicket of bamboo near the fence. He turns back and steps back inside Sasuke's room.
He should've gone after him earlier. Sasuke had already tried to leave once; what was stopping him from doing it again? He should've known he wouldn't stay just because he had asked. Stupid.
He steps back into the hall and stops. He can't alert Father, everything will go back to where it started, and Itachi won't have the chance to break through to him. He closes the door and leans back against it. He has to go after him. He can sneak around to the front, grab his shoes, and go after him. He needs to find him before anyone else does.
Itachi turns and reopens the door, intent on leaving through the garden. But a voice calls out and stops him before he can move, its words demanding his attention.
"Fugaku! Are you home?"
He doesn't recognise the voice, but it still gives him pause. Feeling uneasy, he closes the door he just opened and turns back down the hall, following its corridors toward the front of the house. Turning the corner, he sees three figures standing in the genkan. Two wearing masks, one bird-like, the other a dog. The third held between them, his stance unbothered despite the firm grip the dog masked ANBU has on him.
His father leaves the kitchen, followed by his mother. The air is tense as he joins them, the silence thick and suffocating. Fugaku sighs before stepping forward.
"My apologies," he says, voice firm. "We'll keep a better eye on him." He turns to look at Sasuke, but he won't look at him. Staring instead just beyond the door as if he hadn't just been brought back to the place he had run from. Disinterested, until the ANBU forces him forward, almost making him stumble before he corrects himself. He glares viciously at the ANBU before turning his disinterested gaze toward his father.
Itachi steps forward and bows. "Thank you for returning my brother. I promise he'll be better taken care of in the future." He rises to look at the ANBU, who turns to speak once again to his father.
"See that he is." The dog's low voice speaks before the two masked figures turn and step out onto the cobblestone path, disappearing into the day's rising heat.
Itachi can feel his father's anger before he turns. So he steps forward, takes Sasuke's arm, and with a soft smile says,
"Sasuke, good to have you back."
