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Little moments of harmony stand out all the more when surrounded by chaos. Precious glimpses of peace strike hard for those trapped in conflict – and few were as steeply immersed in the ever-growing maelstrom of discord between village and clan as Fugaku Uchiha.
It had been his choice to accept the place as clan head, and at the time he thought he understood how stepping into the role of a leader would reshape his freedom. What he had not predicted, nor prepared for, was the true weight of the duty that came with that role: the lives and rights of four hundred people. In truth it was far more than any one man should even try to lug around on his own.
At least he was not entirely alone. Fugaku would never have called his younger self a wise man, but he had done something right in choosing someone to share his burdens with. A teammate in every task he took up outside of the Military Police.
She returned to him, fresh out of the bath with a towel still on her shoulders. “You should go to bed.” Mikoto walked across the kitchen followed by a feint smell of soap. Sat at the table with a book in front of him, he listened to her steps break the silence of the house. With Itachi out on a mission and Sasuke sleeping safely in his room there was very little to break the relative calm within the walls of their home.
In truth, even with an early morning awaiting, he wished to stay a little while longer. Warmth lingered in the kitchen in the evenings. Heat from that day’s cooking, the light from the ceiling lamp, and his wife’s company all did their part to fill the room with a deeply relaxing atmosphere. He flipped a page of his book. She sat down next to him with a small glass of water and leaned to peer at the text. “Newspapers in the morning, textbooks in the evening… When was the last time I saw you reading for pleasure?” She observed. He hummed.
“This is a better use of my time.” Finishing the page, he closed the book, wanting to speak to her more than he did continue the admittingly dull text. “Sasuke tried the Fireball jutsu today.”
Mikoto perked up. “Really? How’d it go?”
“It was too soon, he’s not ready yet. We’ll try again once he’s grown a little more.” Standing on the bridge of the compound lake, Sasuke had given the jutsu his all, and still only pushed out a small burst of red flames. Nowhere near what his brother had managed his age.
“He is still very young.” Mikoto agreed, going silent to drink her water. As she did, Fugaku could not help himself from continuing to talk, excitement surging as he did.
“We talked a bit on the way there. He seems very excited about learning to use wire strings. Sounded like he’s been practicing on his own –“
“Remember, it’s training, not practice.” Mikoto cut in, smiling at her own imitation of their youngest.
Fugaku laughed. “Right. So long as he doesn’t hurt himself, wires are more dangerous to handle on your own than a simple kunai or shuriken…” He shook his head. Few things he disliked quite so much as the burning knot at the pit of his stomach that was worrying. “At least he’s got grit. I’ll give him that.”
The glass hit the table with a small thud. Big, black eyes observed him carefully as she turned towards him. “What do you think of his future, then?” She asked, and it gave him pause. Unsure of where to even begin. Except that he should probably go with what was most important.
“We’ll keep him safe.” It was a statement more certain than he thought he could make under the circumstances. And he knew it to be the truth as he said it. “No matter the cost.”
Now it was Mikoto’s turn to pause. The look she gave him faltered, hesitance and uncertainty plain on her face. He sighed. “He’ll most likely be a very average shinobi, Mikoto. But he doesn’t need to be brilliant like his brother. It doesn’t matter.”
“I want to agree, but I think it might matter to him. He comes home with injuries far more often than a child his age should. I keep telling him he doesn’t need to push so hard, but he’s determined.” She lowered her head, weaving her hands together in her lap. “With everything going on he just isn’t getting the time that Itachi did. Especially not with his father... you're distant.”
Fugaku tensed. While said without any malice, it was truly unpleasant to hear. “Mikoto… it’s alright. Like I said, we will try when he’s a little older. There’s no point in teaching him when he isn’t ready yet.”
“What of just spending some time with him? Would that not do him good?”
At that, his tension grew to anger. “Between keeping the Police force in line and planning for the future of our clan, I just don’t have the time.” He clipped, hoping she would drop it there. But as it was, the woman he married was just as capable of pushing as she was supporting.
“It wouldn’t take much. Wasn’t he happy today, when you were talking and showing him the jutsu?”
“He –“ He had to take a deep breath. Beating hard in his chest, he feared his heart was threatening to run away with him. He could not let anger take over. Would not. But at the same time he did not have it in him to confess that he could not remember if Sasuke had looked happy or not. “He has you and Itachi.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to focus on keeping his calm. But Mikoto put a hand on his arm. “Would it not do you good to spend more time with him?” She whispered it with such gentleness, and yet it sunk into him with crushing pressure. It was true that he saw less and less of his younger son over the past couple of years, as the conflict he was so immersed in between the Uchiha and the Hidden Leaf escalated clan matters demanded more from him than they had since the last war. The imminent threat of chaos loomed over them, their politics growing more and more unstable with every month of unfavorable decisions and insufficient influence over their own situation. The Leaf growing more and more suspicious, Uchiha simmering with dissent and frustration. Approaching their boiling point at an alarming rate.
And all of it seemed to lie in his hands.
“That doesn’t matter.” He murmured. “The good of the clan has to come first. As his father I will do anything to keep him safe, but as clan head I cannot afford to be distracted from my duty.”
“Distract you? Sasuke would distract you?” She sounded surprised. He wondered why that was, as he had always admired the sharpness of her eyes when it came to people.
Confronted by such a question he had to turn away. As he closed his eyes, a hundred memories flooded him, vivid and striking with the impact of a sledgehammer. Memories of a second baby in his arms, staring up at him with adorable black eyes and grabbing his finger with two tiny hands. A cheerful toddler sneaking up on him just to get his attention. An energetic, playful child chasing cats and greeting his favorite people with hugs whenever he got the chance to. A thoroughly beloved son, pouring his everything into their clan’s signature jutsu. The joy that he spread to his family by just being himself... Fugaku could not understand where his child had got it from.
"Mikoto..." He opened his eyes. The lingering warmth he had enjoyed so much drained and gone, his limbs overwhelmingly heavy and cold against the wood of the table and the floor. Those vivid glimpses hammered in the harmony he could never have.
Heavier than duty, more precious than peace. The life of his little boy.
"He’s the only one that could.”