Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a day that should have been like any other. 

Sasuke goes to school that morning, like normal. 

 He will probably come back late from training, just like he usually does on a nice day like this.

After the rest of the family leaves, Mikoto will run errands, attend to the house, and take meetings for inter-clan disputes. Fugaku couldn’t manage without her. 

As he would any other day, Fugaku goes to the police station.

He doesn't even rush off before sunrise today. 

Itachi is very much the same, flitting through the house like a ghost. 

Even with all the tension between, Fugaku does like when they manage to have breakfast together, as a family.

Maybe he always knew this peace wasn’t meant to last

Deep in his bones, he knew something was coming. There was this aching Fugaku couldn't shake. The fear creeps in without anyone realizing it. Shinobi are intuitive, at least the good ones, and there’s a certain level of anticipation that things will always go wrong. Wars end, and they always begin again. 

He never thought Konoha was capable of this. 

There were signs before this, but Fugaku hadn’t wanted to see it. 

He knew his mother feared that one day their loyalty wouldn't be enough and that all the exceptional shinobi they raise would be meaningless. 

Fugaku hadn’t wanted to believe any of it. 

He never thought the day she feared would come…would be today. 

Fugaku never thought it would end like this. 

Now he kneels with his wife beside him—waiting for death.

 Not at the battlefield, not on a mission, but at home. 

Fugaku says, “I see, so you've aligned with the other side.”

Their eldest son stands behind them with his sword at the ready. 

“Father…Mother…”he replies hesitantly. 

Mikoto says softly, “we know Itachi.” 

Orders are orders. 

This is the last time they’ll speak. Fugaku’s words can’t fail him, not now. 

Itachi will be their executioner. 

Fugaku says,“take care of Sasuke…Itachi, promise me that.”

He's crying. Even if he can’t say it, Fugaku knows his son is crying. 

“I know…”

His hands must be shaking. 

“Don't hesitate, it's the path you chose…our pain will only last an instant, unlike yours. The way we think may be different, but I'm still proud of you…you truly are a gentle child.” 

Fugaku doesn’t really know what else to say. 

He used to be so small. 

Fugaku is proud that his son became so strong. Their boy was hurting enough. 

This is cruel. Fugaku wants Itachi to stop this. He wants his son to love them enough to spare them. Whether Hiruzen is looking the other way…this reeks of Danzo. Only he would think of sending Uchiha to kill Uchiha—brutal but efficient. 

He just wanted it to be easier. He wanted it to be over. 

And then, in one final sword swing—it was. 

But only for a moment.

 For just a single moment, the pain ended. 

Chimes, Fugaku hears chimes softly twinkling in the wind. 

Then, he opens his eyes once again. 

A voice calls,“darling, you slept in! Shouldn't you be getting to the station by now. This isn’t like you, sleepyhead!”

This can't be real. 

Mikoto’s face appears over him, her long hair tickling his chin. 

“Breakfast is ready. The boys are already at the table.”

Boys…at the table? Fugaku feels his hands gripping the quilt, but it doesn’t feel like he can look away from Mikoto’s beautiful dark eyes. They’re full of life, worry, and right in front of him again. 

It’s her, the real her. 

When he knelt beside her to await Itachi, Fugaku had never seen her eyes look so empty before. He never wants to see her like that again. 

Fugaku can’t move. 

He can’t breathe. 

Mikoto says slowly, “Fugaku, you are in our bedroom. You are on my side of the futon, actually. I am your wife, Mikoto. I came to get you for breakfast. Let me see, there's rice, pike, pickled bokchoy. You know I never noticed there was a spot on the ceiling that looks a bit like a sheep.”

Huh, guess it does. 

Fugaku can’t smell the breakfast, but he does smell her usual peach perfume. 

“Is it alright, if I touch you?”Mikoto asks. 

Fugaku nods. 

She wipes away a teardrop that Fugaku hadn’t realized slipped out. 

“It’s not like you to sleep-in by accident. Are you well?”She asks.

Fugaku clears his throat. Her hand  still gently cradling his face, so soft and warm. He never wants it to go away.

His wife is alive and that's the only thing that matters. 

Fugaku replies,“I feel better just seeing you.” 

That gets her to smile. 

“Come join your family for breakfast before you run off to work. I’m heading to the hospital after this, and I’d like the company of my darling husband before I go.”

This…didn’t happen before.

He didn't sleep in last time. He woke up at his usual time to head off to the training ground. Fugaku doesn't even usually join his family for breakfast these days, but he did that day not knowing it would be the very last time. 

It’s not like Fugaku wants to be gone all the time—he just is. 

The table is exactly the same, but it could just be his imagination. 

His sons are sitting eating their breakfast. They glance up curiously at their father when he enters the room. Sasuke’s chopsticks freezing mid-bite. 

Itachi is right there.

 This is the boy who will kill him, and his beloved wife. Everyone says Itachi takes after him, but Fugaku can only see Mikoto’s features in both of his beautiful sons. 

Everything else falls away. 

Why couldn’t they send someone else? Anyone else! Why did they have to send his son?

It’s unthinkable. Fugaku still can’t understand how Itachi managed to do it. 

It certainly didn’t feel like a dream. 

Fugaku is trying to remain cool, and calm. He doesn’t want to frighten anyone, but it feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. It feels like he can hear it pounding louder and louder. He’s never been good at eating when stressed. Breakfast is the furthest thing from his mind. 

It all goes downhill rather fast. 

He vomits—all over the table. 

“Dad! Gross!”
Trust sweet Sasuke to lighten the mood. Fugaku has always appreciated his talent for that. 

He has not felt like a child in many years, but holding his vomit-covered hands over his mouth as he stands there, unable to move—he does. 

Mikoto probably regrets insisting he come to breakfast. 

She hurries the boys off to their respective days while they deal with the mess. At least, Fugaku tries to help. After he cleans himself up, Mikoto sends him to the couch with a wet cloth to put on his forehead. 

He argues,“I'm not unwell, Miko…” 

She passes by with linens coated with puke as she heads to the laundry room. 

“No, but you're obviously stressed. Gods, I don't even remember the last you puked in front of people, let alone the boys! Lie down!”

“I'm well aware,” Fugaku grumbles, “I…I do appreciate your worry, but there’s no time for this, Miko.”

He's embarrassed enough as it is. 

“Can't you stay home today?” She asks, “I know you said a member of the Nakamura family is coming by the station, but can't someone else speak with them.”

Yes, Gaijin Nakamura, an uncle, had asked to meet that day. 

So, this is the same day. 

They had the exact same meal for breakfast too. Mikoto made the fish a little more crispy, just the way he likes it. 

And Fugaku ruined it. 

This has to be the same day. Even if he woke differently, even with this, he can still see the similarities. 

He made the exact same refusal to take a day off that morning before they died.

Maybe the village didn't have them executed by his own son's hand, maybe it was all just a horrible dream. 

But it felt so real. Every second felt real.

He felt his son’s sword pierce his chest. 

Fugaku wants to think about anything other than his eldest son. If he thinks about it any more, he won’t be able to stop crying. 

There’s no time for tears. 

Duty comes first, always. That’s his late mother’s motto. 

His heart aches as he remembers telling Itachi those very words. Did Itachi not realize that duty and family go hand in hand? Maybe he didn’t understand. Fugaku doesn’t want to ever think his son could be capable of killing his own family, but his eldest son is a very good shinobi. 

He follows orders, perfectly. Not to mention the divide between Itachi and the rest of the clan had only grown with time. Fugaku hates how much tension lingers in the air, even when Itachi just walks past him. 

Fugaku…doesn’t like wondering if Itachi hates him. 

He’s still his son. 

Mikoto cards her hands through his hair. They still smell a bit like bleach, but Fugaku breathes easier under her touch. 

“You can rest, just one day,” she says, “there’s always time when you’re hurting.”

Ridiculous, but he won’t tell her that. He’s not a fool. 

Fugaku asks, “Is the table salvageable?”

“It will survive, although I bet Sasuke will pout about having to eat dinner tonight.” Mikoto says, “Fugaku, you're changing the subject.”

They never even got to have dinner together that night. 

“Just a bad dream, Miko. I didn’t mean to worry you. Just…memories.”

Mikoto does not demean him. She doesn’t pry. She just presses her forehead against his own. Fugaku looks into the red of her sharingan eyes, and his own eyes activate in turn. He wants to remember every laugh line, every lash, and every warm memory looking at his wife’s face brings. 

“You are my lady wife. It is you and I…until the very last moment.”

Fugaku always told her that, but the words hit heavier today. 

As shinobi, they have always been prepared to die. Fugaku still doesn’t think he can ever truly be ready to die at Mikoto’s side. 

Fugaku continues, “I have to go in. They need me,”

Mikoto kisses his forehead. “Take it easy still, remember that you can assign Yakumi to tasks. He’s there for that very reason.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Fugaku replies. 

It’s such a normal day. 

The rest of the day goes as expected. No one else comments on his tardiness, but the officers of the KMPF carry on their work as usual. 

It wasn’t just them. Fugaku thought if the village took action against them, it would certainly fall on the head family alone. Perhaps some others deemed co-conspirators, but he genuinely thought only shinobi would be punished. 

Not the children, not his son. 

Fugaku knelt to his death, thinking he’d die but that his sons would live. He felt the barriers of the police station fall as one chakra signature after another went out like candles. 

There’s no proper life for either of Itachi or Sasuke after that.

Fugaku feels like he’s only barely holding it together. His emotions are on a razor thin edge.  He declines when Yashiro offers him a coffee. The caffeine will only make him more jittery than he already is. 

His body is on autopilot throughout most of the day. Fugaku knows what Gaijin Nakamura is going to say before he even says it. Tekka's wife surprises everyone with dumplings at the lunch hour. There's paperwork to fill out and file just like every other day. A few detectives want his input on a few case files. The day is so painfully average. 

By the time Fugaku looks at the clock again, it's already time to head home. Yashiro urges him to take a well deserved rest. 

Fugaku can't tell them he dreads the thought. The day is going exactly the same, from the butterflies he sees outside to the shopkeepers that wave in passing. The sky is turning from blue to pink as the sun sinks lower and lower. 

It's all the same. 

Itachi will be home soon. 

Fugaku doesn’t know what to do, so he goes with what he knows. 

He knows when the barrier breaks. Fugaku feels it as one after another of his officers fall. 

By the time his turn comes, he's not ready. 

Robotically falling to his knees, Fugaku recites the words that he already knows. 

“I see, so you've aligned with the other side.”

They taste bitter, and hurt even more the second time.

This isn't right. He knows it isn’t. 

He dies. 

And yet he wakes once again. 

Chapter Text

Outside their bedroom window, the chimes are twinkling again. 

Fugaku opens his eyes again, The wood panels above their bed are the only thing he sees.

He doesn’t want to get out of bed. 

Itachi must be down the hall. 

A voice calls out, “darling, you slept in! Shouldn’t you be getting to the station by now. This isn’t like you, sleepyhead.”

This again. 

Mikoto is over him, just like before, and she’s still just as beautiful. 

“Breakfast is ready.” she says. The boys are already at the table.” 

It’s the same day again. 

The gods surely can’t be so cruel to make him relive this horrible day over and over again. 

Mikoto must see the fear clearly on his face. 

“Fugaku, are you alright?”

Fugaku forces himself to speak. She doesn’t need to worry about him, today of all days. 

“Just a bad dream is all,” he says. “Have you ever had deju vu, my love?”

It’s not completely a lie. This whole ordeal certainly feels like one. 

At least this time, he can manage to join his family at the table without ruining the morning meal. 

That’s what Fugaku thinks before he sees his sons again. 

“Good morning, Father!” Sasuke chips happily. 

“Itachi follows his brother’s greeting with significantly less joy. “Good morning. Father.”

Fugaku nods,“Boys.” 

It’s the only greeting he can manage right now, but his sons don’t seem to mind as they quickly return their attention to breakfast. 

Mikoto kneels, taking her own seat beside him. She says, “it is nice to have you all together for the morning. I’ll be off to the hospital to visit your Uncle Naozomi if you need anything while I’m out now’s your chance.”

Itachi acknowledges his mother with a nod, but Sasuke enthusiastically replies with rice still speckled on his face. “I want curry for dinner, please!”

Mikoto laughs, wiping their son’s face like he’s younger than he is. She says, “Sound like a plan to me if no one has any complaints.”

Fugaku actually thinks her curry is actually a touch too mild or too spicy. She can never get the right flavor she wants, but Fugaku loves it anyway. 

He wants the chance to have dinner with them tonight and every night after. 

His family is together, whole, and safe for the moment. 

Fugaku’s eyes are drawn to Itachi. 

The decision must already have been made. Itachi somehow manages to sit there knowing he will slaughter his clan tonight. 

The plans for a coup have been building for a while. They can’t afford to wait much longer as the walls push in. Rather than speak to them, like reasonable people, the council's mind has been made. Hiruzen’s floundering attempts to hear them out are all for show. He thinks them selfish, unreasonable, when they pushed the Uchiha clan to this point from the beginning. 

Konoha ordered the extermination of the entire Uchiha clan. 

There could’ve only been one exception. Their bloodline is too coveted to throw away in its eternity. Fugaku has no doubt his people’s bodies would be plundered at the end of it too, but there’s no doubting Itach’s weak spot. He would’ve used Sasuke as a bargaining chip. 

It’s part of why Fugaku begged Itachi to take care of him. 

Sasuke may have been spared. 

Fugaku wants to believe it, even if he doesn’t know if that would be a blessing or a curse. He desperately hopes that Itachi heeded his final words. 

Fugaku can’t bear to imagine any alternative. 

“Darling, are you not hungry today?” Mikoto asks. 

Fugaku hadn’t noticed till now that he hadn’t taken a single bite. The food set out for breakfast looks great, but Fugaku’s stomach turns just looking at it. Glancing up at Mikoto, he knows that she can tell exactly what Fugaku is thinking. 

She’s just being polite in front of the children. 

He slowly and pointedly begins to eat his rice. 

It’s fresh, and warm, but it tastes like ash. 

Thankfully sweet Sasuke manages to ease the tension just like he always does. He helps take the heat off Fugaku as he regales the family with another story about the jinchuriki. Nothing gets Sasuke more passionate than complaining about Uzumaki boy. There's rarely a time their youngest boy isn't the light of the family, so happy and innocent. 

It helps. 

It gives him something to focus on. 

It’s hard not to stare, but Fugaku knows his heart couldn’t take it if he does more than give a quick glance to his oldest son. 

That boy is sitting there, piling natto beans into the rice his mother lovingly made for them, knowing that this will be the last time they’ll ever sit down together again. 

Fugaku doesn’t understand how he could be so cruel. 

It’s hard to act like nothing is wrong. 

None of this makes any sense. 

“Father?”

Of course, that perceptive child knows when he’s being watched. 

Fugaku nods in acknowledgment for him to continue, 

Itachi asks,“Is there something you need?” 

He speaks in that same polite monotone that he always does. If Fugaku didn’t know any better—he’d think nothing was wrong too. 

“It’s nothing. Will you be busy today?”

His mask flickers, only for a moment, but he’s clearly puzzled by the question. 

Has he been avoiding them all that much that such a simple question seems strange?
“Yes.” Itachi replies, “I will still be back before dinner.”

They’ll be dead long before that. 

Fugaku says, “I hope both of you boys do your best today.”

He knows his words must sound stilted. It sounds that way to his own ears, but it doesn’t matter. 

Sasuke beams, but his words only serve to confuse Itachi even more. 

It gives him an opening to slide the rest of his fish and veggies onto Sasuke’s plate. Only Sasuke’s good manners keep him from jumping on Fugaku in joy. 

It’s worth Mikoto’s scolding look, but there’s no heat behind it. 

Once the meal is finished, he tries to make it up by helping with the dishes. Mikoto still protests. “You have to get to the station!”

Fugaku shrugs as he picks up another plate to dry. “My meeting isn’t till ten.”

It placates her, just a bit. As the boys are busy putting on their shoes, Mikoto kisses her husband’s cheek. 

She says, “you usually rush off.”

He genuinely hadn’t realized it had become so routine nowadays. 

Fugaku wants this day to never end because when it does Sasuke will return home to his world destroyed by his own brother. 

Mikoto will never smile so sweetly at him ever again. 

Fugaku says, “I can head out when you do. The station can manage for the moment.”

It earns him another beautiful smile. 

When Fugaku arrives at the station, Uchiha Yakumi is the first to greet him with a salute. 

“Lord Uchiha, I have prepared a notes outline for your meeting with Mr. Nakamura  at ten. Detective Keiko and Yatoshi are asking for your input after that.”

The station is as bustling and full as ever. After the transfers, the station is over staffed, underpaid, and still trying to work diligently anyway. When their clan head stops in front of them, Fugaku is greeted by a chorus of greetings and salutes. 

“Lord Uchiha!”

“Captain is fine at the station.” He reminds them. 

They’ve started calling him his official title more and more nowadays.

It's stuffy, unnecessary for the setting, but Fugaku knows that their loyalty to the Hokage only wanes with each passing day.  

These good men and women will be cut down by vermin. They all love Konoha, for all they hurt and rage because of it. This was their home, and many of these officers will never see their families again. 

They think these men are volatile angry monsters; they say the Uchiha are a battle clan. That is not all they are. 

How can they think it selfish? He just wants to protect his family in a home that is refusing to do so.

Why did they act tonight? They were meant to move some of the most vulnerable and scared. This wasn't meant to be the day to move against the village. How could they? With what money? 

His clan members trusted him to protect them, and Fugaku let them all down. 

He can’t see it happen again, so easily. 

Something is going on, something very strange, but Fugaku can focus on what he knows. 

This village orders them all, innocent or not, to death. The Uchiha are seen as too dangerous to leave alive, like rabid dogs. 

Fugaku sighs as he looks at the stacks of folders on his desk ready to be sorted. He’s doing busy work, while Konoha plots to slaughter his people. His day is painfully mundane, and yet it ends in such horrible tragedy. The hours pass by in a blur of kanji, stamps, and eye strain. 

Dutifully Yakumi interrupts him with a reminder about the meeting. The Nakamura family’s one year old infant disappeared from their front porch. It only took a single moment. They aren’t the first family to lose a child, gone without a trance, and it seems they won’t be the last. 

Fugaku does wonder if anyone ever finds out what ever happened to those kids. 

His meeting goes exactly the same as it did the two days prior: empty and disheartening. 

There’s only one true bright spot. 

Tekka’s wife brought dumplings for everyone. 

They’re stuffed with more cabbage than pork, but the flavor can’t be matched by anyone else. 

Detective Yatoshi is a short man with ears that stick out quite prominently. His jutsu is meager at best, but he’s more than clever enough to make up for it. Yatoshi’s looking at a case where there's a nobleman who’s defrauding farmers through fishy loans. Fugaku hates there’s not much they do about it until they hear back from the Daiymo’s representatives, and they never will. 

Fugaku asks, “Yatoshi, what would you do if every day were exactly the same?”

“What like the same day over and over?”

“Fugaku nods. 

As much as he’s puzzled by the question, Yatoshi is considerate enough to think it over. He says, “I mean there wouldn’t be any consequences if it’s all the same. Let’s say the day just resets, then well you can do whatever you want.”

“What if it ends badly?” Fugaku asks. 

Yatoshi replies, “doesn’t it always.”

It’s something to consider. For all he knows, this nightmare could end at random and Fugaku would have no way of knowing. 

He says, “Send in Keiko for me, please.”

Yatoshi bows before he turns to leave Fugaku’s office. 

The day goes far too fast. 

Yashiro says, “You should head home, Captain. We’ll be fine here.”

Ah, this again. 

When Fugaku returns home, he embraces Mikoto a little tighter. He doesn’t want to startle her by acting too out of character, but he can’t fully lie to himself. 

The barriers breaking was the first sign. It could have only been Itachi. 

There is still something off. 

“Father, mother…”

Mikoto says, “we know, Itachi.”

Fugaku doesn’t want him to do this. He doesn’t want to watch his wife die again. 

Itachi’s voice is steady and low. Fugaku knows that Itachi forces it a little. His voice still creeps higher in rare moments of nervousness. 

Looking at him is too painful. He sees Mikoto. He sees himself. He even sees Sasuke as all the faces blend into one. 

His love is meaningless. Itachi’s hands are shaking, there are tears shining in his eyes, but he still raises his sword. His firstborn, his heir, but that didn’t matter in the end. He’s always been trembling and terrified and Fugaku can’t fault him for that. Itachi wants to protect the village. His family just so happens to be the threat he must eliminate. 

This is the child that made him a father. 

There is only a moment that Fugaku considers fighting his son. He could kill him, maybe, if he tried. 

But Fugaku only thinks about it for a moment. 

He can’t watch Mikoto kill their son, nor can he kill their son. 

Like the coward he feels like, Fugaku does nothing. 

Itachi thrusts his sword through his father’s back. 

There is the sound of chimes, and Fugaku wakes once again. 

Chapter Text

It feels different this time. 

Fugaku does wonder if it could mean anything. He feels more stiff than before, as he wakes up slower. Their bedroom is still dark as the chirping of crickets breezes through the open window.  Mikoto usually shuts it once she wakes up. 

She’s beside him today. This day feels more like the first as he listens to the soft whistle of her snores. Mikoto is drooling a little and her hair is an absolute mess, but she looks so peaceful. It’s how she should always look.

That first day,  Fugaku woke up and went off to train like he usually does. 

Not again, he thinks. Not this time. 

His sleeping wife buries her face deeper into her pillow, and Fugaku feels grateful to see it. She’s alive, and he can’t bear to see her die again. Fugaku can’t contain himself. He kisses her hair, softly, not wanting to wake her. But it’s not enough. Fugaku gives her another kiss to her cheek, then again to her forehead. If he could spend the whole day just doing this—he’d be a happy man. 

“Well, this is certainly a nice way to wake up,” Mikoto grumbles, her voice still heavy with sleep. 

“You are my lady wife, it is to be expected,” Fugaku replies. 

Mikoto says, “I love you too, darling.” She turns to face him. “Did you have a bad dream?”

She’s as intuitive as ever, but honestly this whole repetitive affair has been one bad dream. 

Fugaku wants to try and change that. Even if he fails, he has to try. 

“It’s better now that you’re here,” he says, “if I may, can I ask a favor of you?”

Before he can continue, Mikoto interrupts with a laugh. She presses her ass against his crotch. She asks teasingly, “oh, you mean this sort of favor?”

It startles a laugh out of Fugaku too. He holds her tighter in his arms. 

“While I am never opposed, I actually did have another idea.”

“And that is?”

Fugaku asks,“Would my wife accompany me out to breakfast today?”

She sits up, more alert than ever now. 

“You mean…somewhere out?” She speaks softly, “You want to go out for breakfast…as a family?”

Is that so strange?

Fugaku doesn’t know why her accessing gaze makes him feel so bashful. He averts his eyes from her own as he replies, “my meeting isn’t until ten…I have time. If we get going now, I’m sure Sasuke won’t even be late for school.”

Itachi claimed to be busy before, but he’s probably just training and writing mission reports at the library. He can set it aside for one day with his family—after all this is their last one together. 

Mikoto had asked him to take a day off. 

He can at least give her the morning. 

Mikoto asks,“you mean it, truly?” 

She sounds so hesitant, so hopeful, that Fugaku’s chest aches. He can’t possibly refuse now. 

He nods,“Get ready. I’ll tell the boys.”

It earns him a full passionate kiss. 

Yeah, work can wait. 

It’s also worth it to be home just to see his sons sleepily stumbling into the kitchen. They’re both puzzled by the empty table where no fresh rice waits to greet them. Mikoto hadn’t even set the water to boil for tea. 

Sasuke says, “Good morning, Father. Where’s Mother?”

“She’s getting ready for the day. Let’s go out for breakfast.”

At such a simple suggestion, his only sons look at him like a madman had taken the place of their father. 

“Why?” Sasuke asks boldly. 

 It’s just breakfast. Where’s all this disbelief coming from? There is a nice cafe nearby. After their rent was raised in the village, Uchiha Raika and her family moved back into the compound, bringing their cafe with them. 

“Why not?” Fugaku asks. 

It's really all he wants to say on the matter. The day goes surprisingly fast for being so mundane. And what was it Mikoto said, there's always time for rest when you're hurting. After seeing his beloved wife die thrice now, a nice meal out is the least he can give her. 

The brothers follow behind him as Fugaku goes to put on his shoes. Mikoto is already ready and waiting at the door. 

“Your father wants to take us out to breakfast! Isn’t that lovely. You’ll be graduating before you know it, Sasuke, one day a little late won’t hurt.”

Sasuke hushes any questions he might have at the sight of his mother's obvious excitement, but Itachi remains undeterred. 

“I thought Father likes when everything is the same. I do.” 

Mikoto puts her hands on her hips, “well I'm not cooking! Your father wants us to go out, and I am quite excited for it. You can come or not, Itachi, but you’ll have to manage for yourself for breakfast. I’m visiting Naozomi after,  and if you’re too busy to see your family, young man, you’re free to go.”

Itachi continues,“I just want to know why we have to go out for breakfast.”

Fugaku holds back a snicker. 

“Does it matter?” Mikoto huffs. 

She’s trying to not be annoyed with Itachi. Fugaku takes a moment to consider the best possible answer to calm things down. They do need to get going. 

“We can all go see Naozomi together after.” 

Mikoto kisses his cheek, in front of the children. 

Ignoring how hot his face now feels, Fugaku clears his throat. 

“I thought we’d go to Reika’s first, then visit your brother. I do have to get to a meeting after, so you boys can continue with your schedules after. Is that acceptable?” 

Mikoto nods, so pleased, she uncharacteristically takes his hand to hold as they walk. 

Itachi is still not as convinced. 

He demands, “but why?”

Sasuke childishly elbows his brother, but Fugaku thinks it’s justified considering how whiney Itachi sounded. 

Sasuke says cheerfully,“Who cares!”

Mikoto doesn’t notice the misstep in behavior, and Fugaku doesn’t really care enough to scold their youngest son for it. 

They set out for Reika’s Cafe—together for once. 

The pink of sunrise is starting to fade into light blue as sunlight peeks over the treetops. It’s a beautiful morning, pleasantly warm, with birds tweeting overhead. Sasuke walks across a garden wall to follow a cat, holding out his arms to balance himself. The Uchiha clan members who are also out for the day greet the family with waves and curious greetings. Fugaku doesn’t think it should be that much of a shock to see his family together. 

Itachi is still pouting at being ignored, but Fugaku doesn’t want to let it dampen his mood. Only he and Itachi know this is their last day together, and Fugaku wants to appreciate it. A bell chimes on the door as they enter the cafe, and Sasuke is practically bouncing in excitement. His eyes scan the menu, dazzling with such energy, that Fugaku wishes he could bottle it. 

Sasuke tugs on Mikoto’s sleeve,“Can I get omurice with hamburger steak?” 

“That’s too heavy!” Itachi chides. 

“Of course, that sounds yummy. Maybe I’ll get one with salmon.”

Mikoto glances at him for confirmation. He appreciates the gesture, even if it’s unnecessary. They’ve been counting every ryo for a while now, but they can splurge today of all days. 

He gives her a wink,“I think omurice with hamburger steak sounds good too.”

Itachi huffs, looking away from them all as he crosses his arms. 

“Come on, sweetie. What would you like?” Mikoto asks. 

It takes a while, and a good bit of prodding before Itachi finally admits to wanting waffles. 

The boy even completely cleans his plate. 

His boy is thirteen with syrup sticking in his bangs. Fugaku doesn’t want to embarrass him, so he doesn’t point it out. Itachi is as brilliant as everyone thinks he is, and he tries to act so mature—but he’s just a child. Everyone seems to forget that, including himself. As he looks over at his family happily eating, Fugaku doesn’t regret missing work today. 

Work will probably happen tomorrow again anyway. 

Fugaku tries to push it from his mind. 

Mikoto and Sasuke are both infectious in their joy even when they leave the lovely atmosphere of the cafe for the hospital. 

Uchiha Naozomi is the eldest of Mikoto’s siblings. A mission injury left his health in decline and both legs amputated below the knee. He’s only gotten worse since Shisui’s death. No one truly believes it was a suicide, no one more than Shisui’s father. It still doesn’t make any sense. Konoha, Hiruzen at least, liked Shisui. Mikoto had suspicions her own nephew was a spy, but Fugaku can’t think about it now. They haven’t even found the body. It makes him sick to think about, and Naozomi must feel the same. 

They can’t even burn his eyes.  Spy or not, Fugaku would never sentence his nephew to such a horrible fate. 

Akimomo and Masato have been talking of preparing for the possibility that Naozomi may soon follow his son. They’re trying to figure out how to tell Mikoto. She has barely acknowledged Shisui’s death herself, doing all she can to take care of Naozomi. 

Mikoto takes Sasuke into Naozomi’s room while Fugaku waits outside in the waiting area with Itachi. 

Itachi was close to Shisui, but talk has been going around that perhaps Itachi played a role in his death. Even knowing what his son is capable of, Fugaku hopes it’s not true. Still, there’s no need to stress Naozomi out more than he already is. It could hinder his healing. 

Rumors or not, Naozomi hasn’t wanted to see Itachi at all. 

Fugaku rests his hands behind his head as slumps into the hard plastic chair. 

Itachi asks,“What are you up to?”

Not one moment of peace can last. 

Fugaku replies sarcastically, “resting my eyes.”

Itachi scoffs, “not that…you're acting differently.”

“You're interrupting your father's resting time.”

Fugaku cracks one eye to see if Itachi is pouting. He is. 

“Father, I'm being serious.” 

And, Fugaku has no interest in being interrogated by his son right now. 

“Hello serious, I'm your father.” 

Itachi groans, annoyed. Thankfully, the response ends any more questioning. While the hospital chairs aren't comfortable, Fugaku wants to relax a little while he has the time. 

The clock is ticking. 

Fugaku looks at his son, arms crossed, as he grumpily leans against the vending machine. 

This boy will hunt each and every one of his little cousins. He will cut down the KMPF in its entirety. Itachi is a good shinobi, and he wants to protect Konoha’s peace even if it means  killing the mother who gave him life. 

“This is the path you chose…” Fugaku says. 

Itachi doesn’t get it, not yet, as he frowns. Fugaku doesn’t want to deal with it right now. It’s still early in the day. Itachi may accept this cruel fate, but Fugaku wants to try and save them. As clan head, his one duty is to protect the Uchiha clan. 

They have to get out. 

That is his one duty. 

Naozomi probably wasn’t spared either. He would’ve died alone. 

Konoha is unimaginably cruel, and they don’t understand their clan at all. 

It was never about power, not in the least. 

Fugaku stands when he sees Mikoto walking back, hand in hand with Sasuke. Turning to Itachi, he says, “do what you must today, Itachi, then come home for dinner, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Itachi replies. 

He’s lying, but if everything goes well no one will be at home to meet him. 

Mikoto takes Sasuke to the academy, and Fugaku reluctantly heads to the station

Even if he’s late, the day still goes much the same after that. 

Yakumi greets Fugaku when he arrives, just like before. 

Genji Nakamura leaves the station with as many answers as he arrives with. 

Fugaku hates the helpless most of all. It’s the one thing he can’t shake off. The suspicious stares are nothing. The rumors don’t matter. Fugaku doesn’t care about any of it, but it’s the helplessness that makes his stomach ache. 

Tekka’s wife arrives with stacks of large steamer baskets. That means lunchtime. 

Fugaku assigns a begrudging Yashiro to talk with the detectives.  It’s not like their cases are going anywhere. Yashiro suspects there’s something that Fugaku isn’t saying, but he doesn’t ask. Fugaku tells Yatoshi they’ll talk later as he leaves the station, even if he knows they never will. There isn’t much more time to waste.

This paperwork doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. The only thing he needs to focus on is planning right now. The schedules need to be shifted, moved up, and the routes changed. They planned to evacuate the scared and the vulnerable. Okemia had been working on footage to doctor the tapes for the compound security cameras for a while now. Genjutsu can fill any gaps. 

There isn’t anyone he trusts more than Mikoto’s family. Fugaku probably trusts them more than he did his own late family. Masato takes his job of overseeing the clan children with a solemn nod. 

Fugaku wants to save as many as he can, but there’s no truly stopping what’s coming. It’s too late now. But he can still try. 

Hopefully, Itachi is as busy as he claimed to be. 

Village leadership must change. 

Fugaku still believes that, even if Konoha dubbed his people the cost. 

One day isn’t enough to prepare, but it’s all he has. 

When Fugaku finally arrives home, Mikoto is eagerly waiting to greet him at the engawa. Fugaku hates having to dampen her good mood, but it has to be done. 

He welcomes her embrace before reluctantly pulling away as he holds her face in his hands. 

When Fugaku finally gains the courage to speak, his voice is barely louder than a whisper. He says, “I need you to listen to me very carefully. It’s not safe here. The evacuation is going to be carried out. I need you to pick up Sasuke from the academy, and you’re going to run.”

She shakes her head almost immediately, “ What about you? Itachi?”

Fugaku replies, “You know where to go. We've planned for this. I don’t think I can explain it, but something very horrible is going to happen tonight. I will do what I must, but I have to know that you and Sasuke are safe.”

She tries to refuse again, but Fugaku interrupts her. “I am the clan head. My duty, my one duty, is to protect our clan. I will. I am going to keep you and Sasuke safe.”

He kisses her forehead, wishing it was the only thing he had left to do today. 

Fugaku says solemnly, “Thank you for being my wife. Thank you for our children, for everything. I love you. I should’ve told you more because I thought about it everyday.”

Mikoto’s eyes fill with angry tears. “I don’t want to hear this.”

The only thing he wants to do is hold her close. They can’t have what they want, not today. He says,“You must.”

Mikoto pleads,“You promised that it would be you and I until the very last moment.” 

It felt easier to hear that before dying with her at his side. 

“Please don’t make me beg, Miko.”

“They won’t just let me go…they won’t allow me to live.”

Fugaku will not be swayed, no matter what she says, not this time. 

“Try anyway.”

Not everyone has forgotten, that Mikoto was once a jonin too.

Time is running out. 

He gives her one last kiss, it’s not enough, but it’s never enough. Even before this, Fugaku wishes he had spent more time with them all. He hated how much his duties pulled him away from his family. Now, he has to send them away to keep them safe. 

Fugaku is not under any illusions. He does not truly expect to kill Shimura Danzo. That old war hawk has seen more, done more, and Fugaku isn't so arrogant about his own skill that he thinks he of all people will succeed where many have failed, but he has to try. 

It's the only option they have. With Hiruzen there's still the possibility of peace talks, but Danzo's mind is staunchly made up. The other councilors won't speak out without him. Danzo is, and perhaps always has been, the greatest threat to the people of Konoha. 

And he wants everyone to think that the true threat—are the Uchiha. 

Ridiculous. 

Fugaku goes to Shimura Danzo, fully intent on taking his life no matter if it costs him his own. Fugaku knows he isn't the fighter he used to be, the war made certain of that, but this is the only way he can protect his family. 

He still doesn't expect to be stopped by his own son. 

Itachi’s voice is trembling, “Fool. Damn fool…” 

If he tried, Fugaku could probably buck the boy off but he isn't willing to—not today. The ache of knowing his son would take his life to spare Danzo's is one he wants to forget. Danzo watches on, unmoved, with such a smugness radiating off him that Fugaku’s skin burns with rage. 

Fugaku says, “my boy, idiot boy.”

He loves him, and he hates him just a little bit too. 

He continues,"our pain will be an instant—unlike yours.” 

Before he meant it as a comfort, now he doesn't know. 

Fugaku raised his son to be a strong shinobi, but Itachi is perhaps too much like his father—he’s not brave enough. 

 If anything, Itachi plunges his sword through his chest, more harshly this time

Chapter Text

Maybe if Fugaku stays asleep, he can sleep through this entire rotten day. He knows he can't, but Fugaku considers the option anyway. It's nice to pretend like he has options. Thankfully, this time Mikoto is breathing steadily beside him. That means he has more time today. 

 It helps him think. 

A direct attack failed, horribly. That probably should've been expected. Fugaku hadn’t fully thought it would succeed perfectly, but now he knows how terribly it would actually go. 

Part of him still feels Itachi’s hands holding him down, digging into his shirt. Those small, thin hands, an artist's hands; funny considering that's the one sector where his genius son did not flourish. 

Fugaku didn't make it easy, not then. He struggled. He did not stay still, even if it hurt more when Itachi plunged his sword through his father’s chest. Fugaku cursed Danzo's name as he felt his ribs break. 

It didn't make him feel better. 

If anything he feels worse. 

Maybe if Fugaku just lies in bed the entire day, Itachi will still appear and kill him just as easily. His futon is warm, and comfortable. So why even get up? If he's going to die, then why not die cozy. 

There's no time to wake his wife with sweet kisses, no matter how much he wants to. Fugaku wants nothing more than to pretend nothing is wrong. It would be easier. He clenches his fist, and takes a breath. If there’s one thing he’s good at it—it’s shoving down the urge to want. 

There is no want in duty. 

He silently slips out of bed, careful not to wake Mikoto. His feet don’t make a sound as he sneaks down the hall. There is one more thing to do before he leaves. Fugaku stops, and quietly slides open Sasuke’s bedroom door. 

If he's going to do this, time needs to be on his side but he still takes a quick peek. Fugaku doubts a moment would hinder him, not when the odds are seemingly impossible already. 

He just wanted to see Sasuke. 

His youngest son sleeps peacefully with no way of knowing the horrors that lie ahead. Half of his head falls off his pillow onto his stuffed dinosaur plush, with Sasuke’s hair messy and wild. He looks just like his mother, down to the little spot of drool. 

For his family, this is all for his family. Fugaku repeats that to himself, again and again. It won't save them, but Fugaku likes to think it makes him feel stronger. Even when the first whispers of a coup began, Fugaku only had that one goal in mind. 

His sons should be able to grow up in peace. 

But it wasn’t meant to be. 

He does hesitate, only for a moment at Itachi’s door. There’s probably no point in it. Itachi will probably wake the moment Fugaku enters his room. The memory of his son wrestling him to the ground like a caught animal feels fresh in his mind. 

Under the cover of the early morning darkness, Fugaku is silent and unseen as he heads out into the Uchiha district. He sends a mental apology to the apothecary owner, Mr. Bato, when he breaks into his shop. If all goes well, perhaps he’ll even be grateful that the chief of police robbed his store. 

If nothing else, Fugaku can learn from his mistakes. That's the one thing this hell cycle might actually be useful for.  

It’s obvious now that he can't kill Danzo if it's a full frontal assault. Fugaku has no intention of putting the other clan members at risk. They'd all be found out. It's too reckless, but that doesn't mean he's totally out of ideas. 

Fugaku doesn't care if it's cowardly, he is going to save his family by any means necessary. Even if that means killing by unscrupulous means. He's a shinobi, and Danzo is the enemy now. Being fair and honorable means nothing when lives are at stake. 

It’s not like he even expected his next plan to work perfectly either. 

Fugaku had thought it would at least go better than the first. He just thought he wouldn't immediately be spotted trying to poison the Shimura residence's water supply. 

Honestly, he’s a little surprised that Danzo never thought to do this to the Uchiha. It's the sort of insidious sneaky  plan that he's known for. 

Fugaku tries not to think too hard right now about the implications. 

It will only slow him down. 

Right now, he needs to run. Fugaku doubts he’ll manage to escape, but he has to try. 

Racing through the forest in a mad frantic dash, Fugaku leaps over rocks and fallen trees. He keeps to the ground even as he’s pursued through the trees from above. They already have the vantage point. If Fugaku takes the high ground, his pursuers will certainly attack. These ANBU in those unfamiliar masks are faster than any he’s seen before.

 His legs move, not knowing what else there is to do. He runs. It’s the one thing Fugaku has to focus on if he even wants a chance to get away. He can’t stop even for a moment to breathe. Dizziness is already creeping into his head. He probably should’ve eaten before heading out, but he tries to ignore it  Fugaku barrels through the brush and vegetation as the branches scratch his arms. 

He runs and keeps running. 

They’ll drag him back to Danzo. 

They’ll take his eyes. 

Fugaku doesn’t notice his foot snags, but he notices when he falls—hard. He crashes into the ground in a ghastly tumble of limbs. His body feels more fragile than it should, and the ground even harder. 

The pain is truly an instant, an electrifying slam inside his skull, and then…nothing. 

Until Fugaku hears those chimes once again. 

A voice calls out,“darling, you slept in! Shouldn't you be getting to the station by now. This isn’t like you, sleepyhead!”

Shit, that means less time today. 

Fugaku mumbles, “that was…stupid.”

He may have just died from a fall like an infant. Sure, his skull had fractured before but it feels reckless and silly with all that’s happened. His stomach spasms uncomfortably as he remembers a distinct cracking sound. 

Fugaku feels less annoyed about it when he sees his wife’s face.

Just seeing Mikoto helps. This ache hasn’t stopped, and Fugaku doesn’t know if it ever will. As far as he can tell, he’s stuck in this hell of reliving the worst day of his life. Even when Itachi doesn’t kill him, the day resets again. Some God must find him to be an amusing plaything. Hasn’t he suffered enough? 

She says,“Breakfast is ready. The boys are already at the table.”

He may have just died from a fall, if any of this is real, but at least she’s still here. 

Fugaku doesn't want her to see the terror building in his chest, so he pulls her into a passionate kiss that she happily accepts. 

“Goodness, what was that for?” She asks befuddled, but her questioning stops when his mouth moves to her neck. He kisses and sucks gently, relishing in her soft sounds of pleasure. 

“Oh, and this?”

“Just telling you good morning,” Fugaku replies quietly. 

Her soft skin against his lips helps him forget. He remembers his neck snapping, while the rational part tries to tell him it’s just a dream. That encompassing flash of absolute pain felt so real. 

Mikoto smiles, “it is one now.”

Fugaku doesn’t really know what to believe. 

But he knows that he doesn't want to keep dying like a fool. 

Breakfast is the same, and Fugaku tries to eat. He needs his energy today. It’s still not easy, but he manages regardless. At least, Sasuke happily accepts most of his bok choy when Mikoto’s back is turned. He even keeps everyone busy with tales of Naruto just like the day before. 

It takes all of Fugaku’s will power not to look at Itachi. He wouldn’t be able to eat a bite otherwise. 

Once the children are out of earshot, Fugaku takes a moment to tell Mikoto his plan. 

He hugs her tightly. 

She buries her face into his neck as he whispers in her ear. “Listen to me very carefully. Do not respond at all to what I’m saying. It will be hard to hear. I need you to prepare the others for evacuation. Put the most capable at genjutsu on the cameras. I trust you with this task, my brilliant beloved wife. I know you’ll protect Sasuke. We’ll keep our clan safe—together.”

Her voice trembles, “What’s happening? Darling, what is this?”

“What this has probably led to.” Fugaku can’t even keep his own voice steady, but he wants to try for her, “the plan has changed.”

“No, we’re not ready!”

Of course they’re not, but Konoha will never play fair. They knew…deep down that they’d never truly be ready for what will come. 

“They’ll kill us all,” Fugaku whispers, so quietly, afraid their little spy will overhear. “Even the babies…”

Her soft hair against his face helps ground him. The warmth of her body is real, whole, and for now, still alive. 

Blessedly, Mikoto doesn’t ask how he knows that but she must hear the terror in his voice. That’s enough proof for her. 

“What do you need me to do,” she asks. 

“Keep Sasuke home. Do as I asked. I am skipping work to prepare.”

Mikoto replies by kissing him. It only makes him want to cry. 

She says,“don’t die for us, please.”

Fugaku can’t promise that, so he doesn’t. 

Sasuke is ecstatic to hear the news that he doesn't have to go to school. They’ll get to spend the day together, and Fugaku knows they’ll probably visit Naozomi again. 

At Fugaku’s prompting, Mikoto doesn’t invite Itachi along. 

Their eldest son notices. 

Sasuke doesn’t simply skip school. It’s usually not something they’d encourage and Itachi knows it. 

He even tries to follow Fugaku out for the day. 

“I have business, Itachi.” Fugaku asks, “Do you not have any of your own?”

Itachi can’t hide his look of offense quick enough. He absentmindedly draws in the dirt with his sandal. 

“I do! I’m not just following you!”

Fugaku chuckles, “really? You had me fooled.”

Itachi explains, “I was curious what you were discussing with Mother?”

Really, the boy thinks he has any right?

Fugaku wants nothing to do with conversation as soon as the words leave Itachi’s mouth. 

He’s genuinely too tired of this. 

While his work does genuinely keep him busy, Fugaku can’t say he’s been eager to come home to an impudent boy watching his every move. 

Since Shisui’s death, perhaps even before, Itachi had only grown more combative. He was mouthy in a way he never was before, subtly, in that passive aggressive way of his. It doesn't seem to matter if Fugaku were in the bathroom with a stomachache, Itachi would assume he’s up to something nefarious. He loves his boy, even knowing all that he will go on to do, but this nosiness is annoying. 

It makes Fugaku wonder what kind of man his son truly thinks he is. 

“Is it against the law for a man to speak to his wife in his own home?” Fugaku asks. 

Itachi huffs, “Father, I’m serious.”

For a brief moment, Fugaku considers telling the same joke again, but he refrains from thinking of something funnier that will unsettle the boy. 

“There are conversations that are private in a marriage.” he says, “you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Such as?” Itachi asks. 

Looking down at his son, Fugaku sighs as he sees Itachi isn’t quite getting what he means. His brows are crumpled in a way, so puzzled. He’s still so young, for all the horrible things he will go on to do. 

Fugaku teases, “private matters such as whether our family could benefit from another child. I doubt you need a refresher of why that doesn’t require your input?”

They’d had that particular discussion before he joined ANBU. 

Itachi blushes, fiercely. His cheeks flush a splotchy pink that creeps down his neck and up his ears,  

He grumbles,“A reckless decision, selfish.”  His son’s prior embarrassment quickly fizzles into irritation. “I doubt mother even has time for another with Sasuke.”

Is that…jealousy?

It’s not like Fugaku is unaware of it. He knows that he focuses more on Itachi, his heir. It’s expected. In return, Mikoto pours all her energy into taking care of Sasuke. He’s second born. He’s allowed more freedom than his brother. 

 Fugaku tries to not think too deeply about it, but he has noticed. 

Mikoto did not bond the same with Itachi. Fugaku can’t hold it against her. Hell, they both missed so much spending so much of his early life away at war. 

Itachi has no way of knowing what his mother endured, but even so…

“Never speak ill of your mother.” Fugaku says firmly, “her body made yours. She’s the spark to your fire. Respect that much.”

Itachi’s nose wrinkles when he hears the Uchiha phrase, but he still nods. 

“Apologies, Father.”

Fugaku doesn’t know if he fully believes Itachi means it, but there’s too much work to do. He can let it slide. Ruffling his insolent son’s hair, Fugaku takes a moment to relish the gentle touch. Last time, he’d dug his nails into Itachi’s shoulder as Fugaku tried to shove him away. 

Fugaku says, “I must be going. Be good today, won’t you.”

Itachi doesn’t even try to his displeasure at hearing such a childish request. This is the sort of thing they ask of Sasuke—not him. 

Itachi replies, “okay, I will.”

A lie that Fugaku can bear. His boy may be witless at times, but he is not so selfish. 

Fugaku says,“That’s my boy.”

Itachi, blessedly, doesn’t try to follow him after that. 

At least on his last day of life, the weather is pleasant. The sounds of birds he may never hear again make it seem peaceful. Fugaku doesn’t know what will happen when this loop ends. 

Maybe he’ll just wake up back where he started back in a pool of his own blood. This whole thing could just be one twisted fantasy cooked up by his dying mind. 

Either way, he can’t just sit around doing nothing. 

The Daikatsu Hotel is one of the nicest within Konoha. Fugaku feels more than a little out of place walking into the lobby with the golden chandeliers hanging above the ceiling. A company paid a significant amount of money to erect it after the Kyuubi attack. It was meant specifically for when the Daiymo and his entourage visit from the capital, but it’s become very popular with successful businessmen too. 

Kazuma Noritaka is a businessman of sorts. The man has also ended up in the KMPF holding more than a few times. He is also descended from farmers who still speak the Uchiha’s ancestral tongue that once could be heard all across the Land of Fire. Fugaku would not call Kazuma a bad man, although there are a few detectives looking into stolen steel shipments that would say otherwise. 

Fugaku looks around the lobby, unsure where to go next, when a young man in a sharp blazer greets him with a bow. He’s young with a skinny face with slicked back hair. 

“Mr. Kazuma is waiting for you upstairs, Lord Uchiha. He sent me to escort you.”

They enter the elevator rather than take the stairs. Fugaku hopes the other man doesn’t notice how much it unsettles him. He can’t even remember the last time he was in one of these contraptions. Everything is so polished, clean, even the carpet of the elevator feels too nice to step on. He feels underdressed in his uniform. If Mikoto knew where he was going, she would've forced him into a kimono, but there’s no time for such fussiness. 

  Fugaku sent Kazuma  a letter, not expecting such a prompt reply. He agreed to meet, sending him a room number for the Daikatsu hotel. 

If they’re going to evacuate everyone, the clan needs the recourse to make the move possible. It won’t be easy. Resources they don’t have right now, but they could. The Uchiha do not have much to give, but there is one way these things have always gone. 

Sons and daughters with powerful eyes are a priceless offer. 

When Fugaku proposes this to Mr. Kazama, he stares at Fugkau long and hard, like he’s a perplexing puzzle before he bursts into roaring laughter.
“You’re serious? Damn this village to hell and back, you’re serious?”  He scratches at his temples, salt and pepper hair cropped close to his head. “I thought a compatriate of mine would benefit from joining this meeting. She arrived in town for business yesterday, and what timing it is that you bless me with a meeting request as well. Funny how fate is?” Kazuma signals to his silent guardian at the door, the same young man from before with his slicked black hair. 

“Send in Madam Lou.”

The name tickles his brain. He does remember a Miss. Lou. 

Fugaku remembers a pretty girl with downturned eyes. She helped bring Itachi into the world. That girl is now a woman fully grown, more curvaceous and confident than Fugaku remembers her as. Tight blonde curls hidden under a wide brimmed hat, with that same sweet smile. 

“Of course, Lord Uchiha. Whatever you need. We understand things can be…precarious in a shinobi village.”

It feels foolish, childish, to ever expect anything is easy. Fugaku clenches his hands so tightly. 

“I have no desire for any others to be in danger.”

Madam Lou continues,“Konoha has denied me what was mine. I have made my own path. I am not ashamed of it, but I have not forgotten where I started.”

Konoha told their allies to go. There were small clans, less powerful clans, who had followed them through drought, famine, and never ending war. It wasn’t long after. They said it was about preserving space, and for police neutrality. 

Fugaku regrets not fighting harder before. He shouldn’t have let the fear hold him back, not when it comes to protecting his family. 

It’s still not enough. 

Fugaku takes a moment to vomit into the bushes, uncaring of who sees when he sees that he’s being followed. He hadn’t even tried to meet with Ino-Shika-Cho. Fugaku doesn’t even know where he messed up. 

Freedom feels so precariously out of reach. 

He runs, no matter how fruitless it feels, his legs run anyway. But he tires, faster than he’s like, Fugaku’s run slows into a stumbling walk. 

Itachi doesn’t kill him this time, arriving just a moment too late to see his father being skewed in the alley. 

Fugaku’s legs buckle beneath him like broken branches. Blood fills his mouth too quickly for him to say anything. 

He can’t even see the boy, but Fugaku knows that he’s there. 

He hates this lonely death most of all.