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“What would you know about it?” Sasuke spits, fists clenched tightly against his sides. He levels a glare at Iruka, then at Kakashi. “My family are all dead, so don’t pretend you care.”
Iruka sighs, places his mug on the kitchen table, and when he looks up again at Sasuke, Iruka's Sharingan eyes are blood-red and swirling lazily.
“I lost my family too,” Iruka admits. “My adoptive parents when the Kyūbi levelled the village, and then everyone else during the massacre.” He reaches across the table, takes Sasuke’s hand and squeeze gently. “But, we still have each other, little cousin.”