Chapter Text
There’s a bullfrog croaking in the flowerbeds outside the Hokage residence. As they wait, Ichigo tries to practice a friendly smile even if his dad glances at him with a befuddled look. The man who answers doesn't seem like a shinobi. He must be the tutor.
The short man with spectacles jumps in surprise. “Oh, Captain Uchiha! This is quite sudden. I knew we were expecting your heir for my tutoring session, but well…”
He doesn’t sound enthused at the prospect of hosting the Uchiha clan head. Ichigo think the man could at least try harder to hide it.
Fugaku cuts him off sharply, “I am not staying. Apologies for the confusion. I hope it is not a bother if I see my son off.”
His fingers are twitching. Ichigo catches it before his father hides it, clasping his hands behind his back. His brow is pinched.
Ichigo knows part of it is because his dad doesn’t want to leave, even if he’s not wanted.
The etiquette teacher to the Hokage’s son should know what to call a clan head in an official setting. Ichigo decides not to call out the man's rudeness, at least not right now. His mom told him to keep any comments to a minimum---at least in front of his dad.
Once they had time to talk, Mikoto praised him for taking an initiative in his studies. Even if this whole dinner is a farce, that doesn’t mean it can’t prove beneficial. As soon as Fugaku wasn't within earshot, she squished his face between her hands and said it was smart of him to accept.
She kissed his hair and whispered, “be cunning, sweetling. There is no dishonor in living free.”
Ichigo is certainly going to try his best---for all of them. His family has been working hard to help him. The least he can do is give the same amount of effort.
They all have to do what they can to protect the clan.
Ichigo and Fugaku remove their sandals, and thank the man for the offered slippers. Yoji leads them into the main entry hall. Ichigo watches his dad tense the deeper they move into the house. It wouldn’t be noticeable if not for the slight twitch in his dad's bad knee.
The tutor bows, “I am Takayama Yoji. It is a pleasure to have your son join our lessons today.”
Fugaku nods in return, “Thank you for allowing him to attend. If I may, might I have a quick word with my son before I take my leave.”
“Of course, of course.” Yoji replies, “I shall fetch the young master.”
Ichigo chokes down a laugh that bubbles up after Yoji leaves the room. Young master? That title definitely doesn’t fit the grouchy teenager Ichigo met at all.
His father doesn’t seem to notice. He kneels down in front of Ichigo. His hands are warm and firm on his shoulders. Fugaku doesn’t say anything at first. He simply closes his eyes as he presses his forehead against his son’s. Ichigo closes his eyes and allows himself to be comforted by the closeness.
He’s not a child, not technically in his mind, but sometimes he truly does feel like one.
Fugaku states, “You will lead this clan after me, and we will be better for it.”
Ichigo can’t say for certain himself, but hearing his dad say it does make him stand taller.
Rising to his to his feet again once, Yoji enters the entry hall with Asuma in tow. Fugaku gives one last squeeze to Ichigo’s shoulder before he clasps his hands together behind his back. He stands up straighter too.
Asuma follows behind his tutor. He bows politely, “Welcome, I am Sarutobi Asuma.”
Yoji quietly mutters a correction to his introduction that has Asuma rolling his eyes. For all that he’s going along with the whole ordeal, it still seems like he’s dragging his feet.
“It is a pleasure to have you in my home.” Asuma recites.
This is Asuma’s home, but it’s also home to the current leader of the village.
Ichigo glances at the portraits of past Hokages lining the main hall.
He asks, “is your dad not coming?”
Yoji answers before Asuma can. “I am afraid that Lord Hokage was unable to attend, and other commitments arose. He is a very busy man. We hope you can understand.”
Ichigo doesn't particularly care. Obviously, the leader of the village has a lot to do. Although, Ichigo assumed dinner with his son wouldn’t be too hard to pencil in. Still, knowing the Hokage won’t be there might make his dad feel better.
“Rest assured, Captain Uchiha.” Yoji says cheerfully, “your heir is in good hands.”
“The Hyuyga guy thought so too.” Ichigoi retorts.
His father's lip twitches. He wants to smile, but forces it down.
That’s fine. Ichigo knows what he saw. It’s why he made the comment in the first place.
It even gets a laugh from Asuma.
Fugaku nods to them both, “Take good care of him then.”
Yoji leads the two down the hall after Fugaku takes his leave. Ichigo doesn’t make it harder with a longer goodbye. The smile was good enough for him. Even so, Ichigo’s muscles tingle with tension once his father is gone. His hands itch to feel the comforting pommel of his sword.
That’s familiar. That’s easier. Fighting blatantly with everything he’s got---that’s easy compared to this.
Even without his parents over his shoulder, polite discussion isn’t Ichigo’s favorite hobby.
It's one of the reasons he never minded talkative friends in his old life.
Shisui said he needed to put in effort---now's the time.
Ichigo sits at the long, low table as Asuma does but it makes Yoji click his tongue disapprovingly.
“As the Hokage’s son, allow him to sit first before taking your own seat.”
Asuma asks, “But I’m a second born son, while he’s heir to his clan. Shouldn't he sit first?”
Yoji sighs, “It seems you are capable of listening to your studies. I suppose if anything that makes me grateful Ichigo is here if it assists your memory”
“Wouldn’t be Heir Uchiha instead of just his first name.” Asuma replies with a grin, “I don’t know a lot, but I know that’s addressing him with too much familiarity.”
Ichigo hides a smile of his own. Whatever game Asuma is playing, does seem more fun than just listening to the man talk about chopstick placement.
The meal has already been placed on the table. The rice and miso soup send off little waves of steam. Ichigo looks over the spread and his stomach grumbles: cucumber salad, pickled carrots, asparagus, nimono, kabayaki eel, salmon.
Mikoto’s been wanting to get her hands on a good salmon for a while now.
Chawanmushi sits in fine china cups. Ichigo studies the art on one, in thin brush strokes a monkey in red armour dances with a naginata across the porcelain.
Ichigo takes a small taste of the creamy custard. If anything, it feels a bit too rich.
Yoji says, “Do not eat until everyone is seated and served.”
Ichigo takes a bit from each of the offered dishes. Asuma loads his plate with eel, and only some of the vegetables. He avoids the asparagus altogether.
Yoji demonstrates to him how to pour sake, although he only sets down a cup for Asuma. He drones on about how to pour, who pours, and how to toast. Most of it feels like common knowledge. Thankfully, Asuma interrupts the boredom.
Asuma says, “I’ve been hearing you’re pretty strong, even though you’re not a shinobi. I mean it’s not like it’s bad you saved the Hyuuga girl, but still I have to ask. How did you manage to piss them off that quick?”
Everyone and their mother knows about what happened at the Hyuuga compound by now.
Yoji interrupts,, “Clan matters, especially those not of one’s own clan, are considered impolite dinner conversation.”
Ichigo doesn’t get angry. He doesn’t protect or shout. He simply chews his food.
There will be time for that discussion later. The Hyuuga problem is just one of many topics the village considers off limits. Ichigo doesn’t intend to let it go, but he can’t solve it right now. He can scream about the injustice till he’s blue in the face, but it won’t change anything.
Right now, the Hokage’s interest in him is a bigger issue.
If the Hokage wants him to play nice with his son, then Ichigo can play.
He asks, “What’s your rank, Sarutobi?” Ichigo thinks about what his mom would say. He adds, “You seem like a jonin to me.”
Asuma chuckles, “You got it right! I made chunin when I was about your age too. You probably could’ve too if you tried.”
It seems this topic isn’t off limits.
“I’m not a shinobi, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak.” Ichigo states, “ I want to be a good swordsman. I want to be able to keep people safe, but even then it’s not like I’m that strong. I’ve got a lot to learn, but time will help. ”
“Humility is good to hear from an Uchiha.” Asuma replies.
It’s not like Ichigo hadn’t heard it all before. Uchiha are haughty, rude, and cruel. There might be people who claim the self-obsessed Uchiha always hunger for power.Those are what rumors want people to believe. Some people take it as fact, as simple as saying the sky is blue. Those people probably haven’t met many Uchiha if they think they’re somehow all the same.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Ichigo asks.
Sometimes, a joke doesn’t always feel like one.
Asuma doesn't expect the question,“Huh?”
Ichigo urges,“Explain it to me.”
“Well you know they say…”he hesitates, “ The Uchiha are an arrogant lot.”
What a broad stroke they’re painted with.
“All of us, hm?”
“Not you!”
“Yes me, I'm an Uchiha.” Ichigo says quietly, “I just don't look like what you'd expect, right?”
It had happened before. With his hair, sometimes a loose-lipped shinobi might forget he’s a member of the clan until they see the red and white fan on his back.
Asuma pauses for a reply before he continues, “Well, you know---people say the Uchiha think they're above everyone else.”
Ichigo viciously pokes open the yolk of his egg. It spills into the rice, and Ichigo swirls it together.
“This is news to me,” he says.
For all that Ichigo knows about his clan, and all the people in it that statement doesn’t feel further than the truth. Even if there are arrogant people, they can show up anywhere especially in a world where power of the elements is commonplace.
No one is inherently anything. Ichigo knows that much.
He continues,“ My clan already has it bad enough in the shinobi corps. Why would I join? I’d probably still be hearing shit like that; people claiming my clan are nothing but arrogant bastards. How am I supposed to trust other shinobi to watch my back?”
Asuma doesn’t immediately reply; it gives Yoji the moment he’d been waiting for. He nervously fiddles with his glasses as he decides to step in.
“I mentioned before that this topic was impolite.”
That’s fine. Ichigo said what he needed to.
He corrects Yoji, “You said outside clan matters were impolite. This is just life for my clan”.
Ichigo looks at Asuma. He is chewing slowly, but Ichigo can see there’s a contemplative look in his eyes. He swallows, and takes a sip of water before he speaks.
Asuma says genuinely, “I apologise for my ill-mannered joke.”
Yoji tries to make a comment commending him for his manners, but Asuma brushes it off.
Ichigo nods, “I will not be a shinobi for Konoha, or any village. If I fight, then I’m gonna do it my way. I hope you all might understand that.”
Whether Asuma will report back to his father, or not: Ichigo wants anyone who might be eavesdropping to know it too. His decision has been made.
Asuma chuckles, “That doesn’t really sound too bad actually. Sometimes, too much control can get…tiring.”
He passes Icihgo the pickled cucumber.
Yoji chides, “Young master, you are slouching, Ichigo, elbows at your sides, please.”
Ichigo thinks he just wants them to move on from that topic.
“You called him Ichigo again.” Asuma points out, “Since when are the two of you friends?”
Yogi sputters and his cheeks turn a ruddy cherry red. The sight makes Asuma burst into loud cackling laughter. Sarutobi Asuma doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He doesn't have the same level of ferocity or aloofness as the Hatake guy. If anything, he seems like one of the few relatively normal shinobi that Ichigo has come across.
They eat in silence for a while, much to Yoji’s relief. It is good food, delicate and flavorful. He still prefers his mom’s simple cooking, each uneven potatoes and carrots in the stew were painstakingly sliced. For being so good with a sword, she still often knicks her fingers when peeling potatoes.
Ichigo frowns as he looks at the vast amount of food laid out for them. He and Asuma can’t possibly eat it all. He wishes he could bring it home to share.
Yoji would probably say it’s considered impolite.
Asuma says, “You know I think this whole---” he gestures to the table and Yoji, “mess is unnecessary. So, why’d you even agree to come here?”
It’s really not like he could’ve said no.
“The Uchiha clan will look to me to protect them one day.” Ichigo states, “I’m gonna try every way possible to do that.”
“I guess that’s part of being heir to the clan. I’m not my dad’s firstborn, that’s my brother.” Asuma sets down his chopsticks, “I know I’m here just in case the worst happens.”
Ichigo knows that Fugaku found himself in the same position--- until the worst did happen.
“What would you want to do then?” Ichigo asks.
Asuma says plainly, “Live life my way.”
That seems to be as much conversation as Yoji can take. It hadn’t felt much like a lesson. Most of Yoji’s timid ramblings had gone in one ear and out the other. It’s not like Ichigo doesn’t know how to conduct himself at dinner. Asuma’s older and yet he still needs to work on not talking with his mouth full.
Yoji claps his hands together, “You did quite admirably at conducting yourself, young master. I believe if we are done eating, we can adjourn for the night.”
Asuma frowns, “It feels kind of early? Are you sure?”
Ichigo stands, eager to get home. He’s eaten his fill of a good meal, and got to know the Hokage’s son. There are worse ways to end the night than an abrupt dismissal.
“I should call for an ANBU to escort the uh…Uchiha heir home.” Yoji stammers.
Now that feels unnecessary.
Asuma replies, “I can walk him home. That’s the proper thing to do. I’m older and the host.”
He’s not wrong. Yoji tries to argue against it, but Asuma doesn’t pay him any attention at all.
They stand together outside the house for a while. Asuma grumbles about not getting to dessert. The evening air is cooler than it was before. A few lighting bugs twinkle in the flowerbeds.
“Mind if I smoke?” Asuma asks.
Ichigo shakes his head. They walk in silence to the Uchiha district. Past the academy, through the market, with Asuma waving to every citizen who greets him. They walk the long winding dirt roads leading out and away from the center of the village. By the time they arrive at Ichigo’s house Asuma’s cigarette had burned down to a nub.
“Damn, that’s a bit of a walk.”
“Yeah…” Ichigo shrugs, “it used to be closer.”
Asuma hums thoughtfully, “I didn’t know that.”
“It seems like there’s a lot you don’t know.”