Chapter 7 :
-How a Child Fights-
If you feel so angry,
So ripped off so stepped on,
You're not the only one,
Refusing to back down,
You're not the only one,
So get up.-Riot-Three Day's Grace
Fugaku looked over the report in his hand and signed a few lines. He handed it over to Kakai, who hurried away to hand it off to someone else. Fugaku stepped forward, ducking under the bright red tape that denoted a crime scene. He didn't get out in the field much anymore, but he tried to be as active as possible. Today, he was beginning to wish he'd stayed to do paperwork
Fugaku found himself standing by a lithe man with red hair, It was cropped short, and the man had an old scar across his face, and a wooden bokken at his side. He looked up at Fugaku with soft green eyes and gave the Uchiha a bow. "Fugaku-san, what a pleasant surprise."
"The same to you, Haruno-san. I only wish the circumstances of our meeting were happier," Fugaku replied. Kenji Haruno was one of the civilian police officers, and Fugaku had worked with him in the past. He was a good man with a quick mind.
Kenji shook his head. "Murder brings everyone together in unpleasant ways, though it's not often I get a case with a dead ninja. Do you know who he is yet?"
"Beshimi Souji, a chuunin, and just back from a mission," Fugaku rattled of softly. He looked at the young face and shook his head. "The woman?"
"A prostitute from the Red Fish, but I've asked and no one could think of any reason for someone to want her dead. She's Hanako, by the way. We haven't gotten a real name yet." Kenji gave an eloquent shrug. "I don't have much hope for this case."
"He hasn't been dead long, so we can try a few jutsu and see if we can retrieve any memories. That should help us along a little." Fugaku motioned some police with stretchers forward and they carefully loaded the bodies onto them. The woman really was beautiful.
"How is Sakura-chan doing?" Fugaku asked as he turned his eyes back to the crime scene.
Kenji chuckled. "She's still dead set on being a ninja. She's convinced she wants to be an ANBU, like Itachi-kun. That, or she's going to be a police ninja." Kenji looked over at Fugaku with a fond smile on his face at the thought of his daughter.
Fugaku returned the smile wryly. "We usually don't let non-Uchiha into the police force, but I'm sure we could make an exception for a bright girl like Sakura. She's one of the top performers in her class, I hear."
Kenji looked pleased. "She is. She's really taking to it more than her mother and I ever thought she would, but that's Sakura for you. She's head strong as a bull, and once she knows what she wants, she goes after it with everything she has." Kenji shook his head and drew his eyes down to the bloody ground. "Is our killer a ninja or civilian?"
"Either a civilian or a ninja trying to make us think it was one. We'll ask around and see if Beshimi had any enemies," Fugaku replied. There wasn't much evidence, and if it had been a ninja who had killed the two, there wouldn't be any.
"And I'll peer into the civilian side of things and see what I can find out." Kenji gave a small sigh and nodded. He looked up at Fugaku. "You know, I feel much better about this knowing the Uchiha are working with us."
Fugaku gave the man a bow. "We are ever at your service." He caught the elated look of one of his officers upon hearing Kenji's words. Yes, they were making progress, however slow it was. Person by person, they were building back trust in the Uchiha name.
The good thing about being sick was no one bothered you when you were pretending to nap. Itachi was curled up on the porch, having dragged a blanket out of his room to make himself more comfortable. He wasn't asleep, but his back was too the house and his breathing was steady enough to make it look like he was. He was actually thinking-well, more like plotting, really. He'd been rolling over the problem of the other in his mind all afternoon.
The other, after the blow to the head, seemed slow and almost sleepy now. It didn't care much what Itachi thought as long as Sasuke wasn't involved, and Itachi was taking full advantage of that. Itachi knew he couldn't ignore the other anymore. That wasn't getting him anywhere useful. He needed to find a way to gain leverage over the other. He needed to be completely in control of his body and his mind.
How he was going to do that was the problem. He got the feeling the other, as much as he didn't want to admit it, was stronger than he was. He'd felt it just push him aside like an annoyance, and it seemed to be getting stronger as time went on. Itachi needed to act quickly, or he was going to lose control of his body to the other, and he did not want that to happen.
He'd die before he let the other have his body.
Now who's wishing for death.
Itachi watched the other surface and sink away. The thought hadn't been pointed, just there. Itachi slowly prodded where the other sat in his mind, and felt only a faint acknowledgement. He drew back a little, and then pressed again. Thoughts bubbled up. A blue man with a wicked smile. Blood all around and the sickening stench of burning flesh. Great spinning red eyes burning into his soul. Burning and burning and burning...
"Itachi."
Itahci jumped, body jerking and twisting to face the speaker. His eyes flashed red and he whipped around too look up at his father, for a moment sharingan red spun in his eyes, and a deep, throbbing ache started up. Itachi closed his eyes and forced the sharingan away, and with it the burning feeling in his chest and the aches in his joints. Itahci propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at his father.
Fugaku kept his face mostly impassive, but Itachi could see the questions and worry lurking in his father's eyes. "Supper's ready."
"Ah, thank you." Itachi slowly stood and gathered up his blanket. He would return it to his room before he went to supper. Itachi pause as his father turned to head back to dinner. "Otou-san..."
Fugaku turned and looked back at his son. He didn't say anything, but there was a question in his eyes. What? Ask, say, speak child, I'm listening.
Itachi found himself almost smiling. "Otou-san, if you...if there's a spy in your group, one you can not kill and must work hand in hand with, how do you make your mission a success?"
Itachi didn't know if his father looked suddenly disappointed, or if he were imagining things. Fugaku rubbed his chin and frowned. "You make them yours." Itachi frowned and his father continued.
"You take the spy into your group. You make them your own-learn everything about them, gain leverage, figure out what makes them do what they do. You make them your creature, and once you've done that, your mission will succeed without interference from the spy. It is a dangerous and difficult process, though, and some spies are too loyal or blinded to be made your own," Fugaku explained. He looked over his son, and Itachi could see he was on the verge of asking why Itachi wanted to know these things, but he didn't ask. Itachi was relieved.
"Thank you, Otou-san." Itachi gave his father a bow and hurried off to his room. So, he needed to make the other his own? He needed to know everything there was to know about the other, and figure out what made it tick? The idea was beyond dangerous. If Itachi opened up to the other, he was positive the other would be opened to Itachi. He could lose himself faster this way, but...
At least he would go down fighting. Itachi placed the blanket away and went to supper. Supper was a quiet affair. Itachi was mulling over what his father had told him, and Sasuke was mum. Itachi really didn't notice. His father started asking Sasuke how his day had gone, if he felt better, and banter started up slowly. Sasuke made a comment he was bored and already knew everything he was being taught.
"Then maybe, since your brother has leave, he can teach you some more complex things," Fugaku said, and Itachi blinked as he was jerked into the conversation. He looked at his father, and then at Sasuke. Sasuke looked like he was afraid to show any emotion. Itachi caught the edges of hope and longing in his eyes, and looked back at his father.
"I-" Itachi almost made an excuse. He almost said he needed to rest, not teach Sasuke things he would learn eventually if he was patient. Why couldn't he just take things in stride like the rest of the class? Itachi didn't have time to bother with things like that. He needed to..to...
Itachi caught the look in his father's eyes as he formed the refusal, and he stopped. His father knew what he was going to say-all the excuses that would come out of Itachi's mouth. His mother didn't even look up at them all. She knew how this would play out too, and Itachi balked. He gave them all a mental scowl. If they knew, why even ask?
Hope springs eternal.
"If he wants me to." Itachi tipped his head in Sasuke's direction. "It shouldn't be too much strain, and it will get boring just sitting around all day."
"Really?" Sasuke asked, and he sounded so hesitant Itachi's chest hurt. Fugaku nodded and smiled very slightly, and Mikoto looked pleasantly surprised.
"I said I would," Itachi replied, letting his tone slip into something almost annoyed. Sasuke just grinned. Itachi settled back, and his parents began talking again. Fugaku was evidently working on a double homicide, ninja and civilian mixed. He didn't give any more details, and Mikoto launched into talking about what she had done. Itachi ate in silence, sinking further into himself and wondering if he even dared do what his father had suggested. Could he risk it? Could he risk not doing it?
Itachi looked across the table at Sasuke's smile, and he knew his mind was made up.
Mikoto sat brushing out her hair. Fugaku could hear each stroke. The children had gone to bed, Sasuke still grinning over his brother's promise to teach him. It was a sad thing he was so ecstatic over such a simple thing, but when did the boy ever get to spend time with his brother anymore? Fugaku was glad Itachi had agreed to spend time with the boy, at least. Maybe something good would come of all of this after all.
Fugaku turned and watched his wife pull the brush through her hair a few more times before he got up. He took the brush from her hand and sat down behind her. Mikoto smiled at him in the mirror and pushed her hair back to fall down her back in one long fall. Fugaku gathered it up and pulled his fingers and the brush through her hair. He used to do this a lot when they were first married, and his calloused hands still caught in her hair like they always did.
Still, he brushed until it was smooth, and a little after that. The dim light in the room caught on her hair, making soft yellow highlights that rippled when he pulled the brush through her hair. Finally, Fugaku placed the brush down and began to braid her hair. It made a thick, heavy braid, and as he tied it off he noted how long it had gotten. When they'd gotten married, Mikoto's hair had been cropped short by her ears. Fugaku's hair had been longer than hers.
Fugaku pushed Mikoto's braid to one side and leaned down to press a kiss to her neck. She smelled like the kitchen, and soap. She smelled clean, and good, and like home. She always had, and Fugaku could love her just for that. Mikoto leaned back against him, her head falling back onto his shoulder. He hadn't realized until it had come back, but they'd been missing these small moments of intimacy for months now. Ever since Itachi had gotten sick, they seemed to appear magically almost daily.
"It's nice, having you home every night," Mikoto observed in an eerie echo of Fugaku's thoughts. "You usually work so late you just catch a nap at the station. Have you had a lighter load?"
"I've been delegating my work more," Fugaku replied, though muffled my Mikoto's skin. He touched her sides and ran his hands around to her firm stomach. She wasn't fighting fit anymore, but she still maintained an athletic fitness. She was just a little softer around the edges.
"I thought you didn't like delegating your work," Mikoto murmured.
"I don't, but I thought it was better for me to be home right now." Fugaku felt Mikoto tensed and he cursed inwardly.
"Because Itachi's sick." Mikoto picked her head up. "I've been trying to get you to let the others help you more with your work for months now, and the minute Itachi gets sick you drop everything and rush home."
"Forgive me for wanting to be with my son while he's sick." Fugaku didn't pull back, but he could feel the distance building between them again. It always happened. The more he was home, the more it happened. Oh, they had good moments, hours, even nights, but eventually it boiled down to another sharing of embittered words. This was just the beginning.
"You wouldn't do this for anyone but Itachi. If Sasuke were sick-"
"If Sasuke were as sick as Itachi, you know I would be with him," Fugaku countered.
"Would you really?" Mikoto turned around in her husbands arms and regarded him with her dark eyes. He hated to see what was swirling in them. "You never take any other time off for him. You weren't even going to go to the ceremony when he started at the Academy until Itachi insisted on it."
"Please, not this again, Mikoto. I spend as much time with Sasuke as I can."
"And you spend more with Itachi. You've always played favorites with them, Fugaku. Sasuke's just as deserving of your time and love as Itachi is."
"No, he's not." Fugaku's finger shot up to block Mikoto's angry words. "Sasuke, we both know, will never be the ninja Itachi is. As clan leader I should be putting more time into my more talented and promising heir, not the other. All children are not equal, Mikoto." But that didn't mean their parents could ignore one, or love one less. That didn't make it right to do such a thing.
"I love Sasuke just as much as I love Itachi, but we're losing Itachi. He's growing up too fast. He's not a child anymore, and soon he won't even be living under our roof."
"So you think because Sasuke's younger he'll wait around for you to finish running after Itachi before he grows up?" Mikoto asked sharply. "You spent twice as much time with Itachi when he was Sasuke's age."
"I was gone for the first four years of Itachi's life-"
Mikoto shook her head. "That doesn't make any difference. You've been gone most of Sasuke's life, even though you've been in the village for all of it. He barely even knows who his father is, and you won't give him a chance to. You're always making time for Itachi, your perfect son-your favorite."
Fugaku looked at his wife, and his lips quirked into that smile that they both knew she hated. "Isn't Itachi everyone's favorite? Who is Sasuke always tagging along after? Who do people always ask after when you visit, Mikoto? People can't help favoring Itachi, because he's so far above their understanding. They want to feel closer to him, hoping his greatness will rub off on them. When Itachi's in the room, don't you feel everyone else isn't as significant? Don't you feel they can be ignored as long as Itachi is in the room?"
Mikoto shoved herself up from the floor, and walked across the room in strides that said more than words ever could Fugaku listened to her. He set her brush down on the small table and put out the dim light. He could hear Mikoto getting into bed, sliding under the covers. Her back was to him. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it.
"That's why you hound after me so much to spend time with him. You find yourself ignoring Sasuke in favor of Itachi, and when you see me doing it, it sends the knife of guilt deeper. Mothers should be impartial, shouldn't they?"
"Father's too."
"No one's impartial. Everyone plays favorites."
"Even the police force?"
"We're only human."
There was a silence that Fugaku knew all too well. His marriage was filled with these silences. Their marriage had been for bloodlines and excellence, not love. They had learned to love later, though sometimes it was shakey and shallow. It used to be better, when they were younger. Now, the silences were longer, more frequent, and possibly why Fugaku found it more restFul to nap on a couch at the station than to come home to his family.
"I love Sasuke more than Itachi. I raised Sasuke for myself. I raised Itachi for you and Konoha. I want everyone to love Sasuke like I do, but not even you will." Mikoto's voice was soft in the darkness. Fugaku moved to the bed and slid under the covers. He placed his back to Mikoto's, and wondered why it was easier to tell nasty truths in the dark. The dark didn't make them less real or heard.
Enjoy
Hope you like it
-How a Child Fights-
If you feel so angry,
So ripped off so stepped on,
You're not the only one,
Refusing to back down,
You're not the only one,
So get up.-Riot-Three Day's Grace
Fugaku looked over the report in his hand and signed a few lines. He handed it over to Kakai, who hurried away to hand it off to someone else. Fugaku stepped forward, ducking under the bright red tape that denoted a crime scene. He didn't get out in the field much anymore, but he tried to be as active as possible. Today, he was beginning to wish he'd stayed to do paperwork
Fugaku found himself standing by a lithe man with red hair, It was cropped short, and the man had an old scar across his face, and a wooden bokken at his side. He looked up at Fugaku with soft green eyes and gave the Uchiha a bow. "Fugaku-san, what a pleasant surprise."
"The same to you, Haruno-san. I only wish the circumstances of our meeting were happier," Fugaku replied. Kenji Haruno was one of the civilian police officers, and Fugaku had worked with him in the past. He was a good man with a quick mind.
Kenji shook his head. "Murder brings everyone together in unpleasant ways, though it's not often I get a case with a dead ninja. Do you know who he is yet?"
"Beshimi Souji, a chuunin, and just back from a mission," Fugaku rattled of softly. He looked at the young face and shook his head. "The woman?"
"A prostitute from the Red Fish, but I've asked and no one could think of any reason for someone to want her dead. She's Hanako, by the way. We haven't gotten a real name yet." Kenji gave an eloquent shrug. "I don't have much hope for this case."
"He hasn't been dead long, so we can try a few jutsu and see if we can retrieve any memories. That should help us along a little." Fugaku motioned some police with stretchers forward and they carefully loaded the bodies onto them. The woman really was beautiful.
"How is Sakura-chan doing?" Fugaku asked as he turned his eyes back to the crime scene.
Kenji chuckled. "She's still dead set on being a ninja. She's convinced she wants to be an ANBU, like Itachi-kun. That, or she's going to be a police ninja." Kenji looked over at Fugaku with a fond smile on his face at the thought of his daughter.
Fugaku returned the smile wryly. "We usually don't let non-Uchiha into the police force, but I'm sure we could make an exception for a bright girl like Sakura. She's one of the top performers in her class, I hear."
Kenji looked pleased. "She is. She's really taking to it more than her mother and I ever thought she would, but that's Sakura for you. She's head strong as a bull, and once she knows what she wants, she goes after it with everything she has." Kenji shook his head and drew his eyes down to the bloody ground. "Is our killer a ninja or civilian?"
"Either a civilian or a ninja trying to make us think it was one. We'll ask around and see if Beshimi had any enemies," Fugaku replied. There wasn't much evidence, and if it had been a ninja who had killed the two, there wouldn't be any.
"And I'll peer into the civilian side of things and see what I can find out." Kenji gave a small sigh and nodded. He looked up at Fugaku. "You know, I feel much better about this knowing the Uchiha are working with us."
Fugaku gave the man a bow. "We are ever at your service." He caught the elated look of one of his officers upon hearing Kenji's words. Yes, they were making progress, however slow it was. Person by person, they were building back trust in the Uchiha name.
The good thing about being sick was no one bothered you when you were pretending to nap. Itachi was curled up on the porch, having dragged a blanket out of his room to make himself more comfortable. He wasn't asleep, but his back was too the house and his breathing was steady enough to make it look like he was. He was actually thinking-well, more like plotting, really. He'd been rolling over the problem of the other in his mind all afternoon.
The other, after the blow to the head, seemed slow and almost sleepy now. It didn't care much what Itachi thought as long as Sasuke wasn't involved, and Itachi was taking full advantage of that. Itachi knew he couldn't ignore the other anymore. That wasn't getting him anywhere useful. He needed to find a way to gain leverage over the other. He needed to be completely in control of his body and his mind.
How he was going to do that was the problem. He got the feeling the other, as much as he didn't want to admit it, was stronger than he was. He'd felt it just push him aside like an annoyance, and it seemed to be getting stronger as time went on. Itachi needed to act quickly, or he was going to lose control of his body to the other, and he did not want that to happen.
He'd die before he let the other have his body.
Now who's wishing for death.
Itachi watched the other surface and sink away. The thought hadn't been pointed, just there. Itachi slowly prodded where the other sat in his mind, and felt only a faint acknowledgement. He drew back a little, and then pressed again. Thoughts bubbled up. A blue man with a wicked smile. Blood all around and the sickening stench of burning flesh. Great spinning red eyes burning into his soul. Burning and burning and burning...
"Itachi."
Itahci jumped, body jerking and twisting to face the speaker. His eyes flashed red and he whipped around too look up at his father, for a moment sharingan red spun in his eyes, and a deep, throbbing ache started up. Itachi closed his eyes and forced the sharingan away, and with it the burning feeling in his chest and the aches in his joints. Itahci propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at his father.
Fugaku kept his face mostly impassive, but Itachi could see the questions and worry lurking in his father's eyes. "Supper's ready."
"Ah, thank you." Itachi slowly stood and gathered up his blanket. He would return it to his room before he went to supper. Itachi pause as his father turned to head back to dinner. "Otou-san..."
Fugaku turned and looked back at his son. He didn't say anything, but there was a question in his eyes. What? Ask, say, speak child, I'm listening.
Itachi found himself almost smiling. "Otou-san, if you...if there's a spy in your group, one you can not kill and must work hand in hand with, how do you make your mission a success?"
Itachi didn't know if his father looked suddenly disappointed, or if he were imagining things. Fugaku rubbed his chin and frowned. "You make them yours." Itachi frowned and his father continued.
"You take the spy into your group. You make them your own-learn everything about them, gain leverage, figure out what makes them do what they do. You make them your creature, and once you've done that, your mission will succeed without interference from the spy. It is a dangerous and difficult process, though, and some spies are too loyal or blinded to be made your own," Fugaku explained. He looked over his son, and Itachi could see he was on the verge of asking why Itachi wanted to know these things, but he didn't ask. Itachi was relieved.
"Thank you, Otou-san." Itachi gave his father a bow and hurried off to his room. So, he needed to make the other his own? He needed to know everything there was to know about the other, and figure out what made it tick? The idea was beyond dangerous. If Itachi opened up to the other, he was positive the other would be opened to Itachi. He could lose himself faster this way, but...
At least he would go down fighting. Itachi placed the blanket away and went to supper. Supper was a quiet affair. Itachi was mulling over what his father had told him, and Sasuke was mum. Itachi really didn't notice. His father started asking Sasuke how his day had gone, if he felt better, and banter started up slowly. Sasuke made a comment he was bored and already knew everything he was being taught.
"Then maybe, since your brother has leave, he can teach you some more complex things," Fugaku said, and Itachi blinked as he was jerked into the conversation. He looked at his father, and then at Sasuke. Sasuke looked like he was afraid to show any emotion. Itachi caught the edges of hope and longing in his eyes, and looked back at his father.
"I-" Itachi almost made an excuse. He almost said he needed to rest, not teach Sasuke things he would learn eventually if he was patient. Why couldn't he just take things in stride like the rest of the class? Itachi didn't have time to bother with things like that. He needed to..to...
Itachi caught the look in his father's eyes as he formed the refusal, and he stopped. His father knew what he was going to say-all the excuses that would come out of Itachi's mouth. His mother didn't even look up at them all. She knew how this would play out too, and Itachi balked. He gave them all a mental scowl. If they knew, why even ask?
Hope springs eternal.
"If he wants me to." Itachi tipped his head in Sasuke's direction. "It shouldn't be too much strain, and it will get boring just sitting around all day."
"Really?" Sasuke asked, and he sounded so hesitant Itachi's chest hurt. Fugaku nodded and smiled very slightly, and Mikoto looked pleasantly surprised.
"I said I would," Itachi replied, letting his tone slip into something almost annoyed. Sasuke just grinned. Itachi settled back, and his parents began talking again. Fugaku was evidently working on a double homicide, ninja and civilian mixed. He didn't give any more details, and Mikoto launched into talking about what she had done. Itachi ate in silence, sinking further into himself and wondering if he even dared do what his father had suggested. Could he risk it? Could he risk not doing it?
Itachi looked across the table at Sasuke's smile, and he knew his mind was made up.
Mikoto sat brushing out her hair. Fugaku could hear each stroke. The children had gone to bed, Sasuke still grinning over his brother's promise to teach him. It was a sad thing he was so ecstatic over such a simple thing, but when did the boy ever get to spend time with his brother anymore? Fugaku was glad Itachi had agreed to spend time with the boy, at least. Maybe something good would come of all of this after all.
Fugaku turned and watched his wife pull the brush through her hair a few more times before he got up. He took the brush from her hand and sat down behind her. Mikoto smiled at him in the mirror and pushed her hair back to fall down her back in one long fall. Fugaku gathered it up and pulled his fingers and the brush through her hair. He used to do this a lot when they were first married, and his calloused hands still caught in her hair like they always did.
Still, he brushed until it was smooth, and a little after that. The dim light in the room caught on her hair, making soft yellow highlights that rippled when he pulled the brush through her hair. Finally, Fugaku placed the brush down and began to braid her hair. It made a thick, heavy braid, and as he tied it off he noted how long it had gotten. When they'd gotten married, Mikoto's hair had been cropped short by her ears. Fugaku's hair had been longer than hers.
Fugaku pushed Mikoto's braid to one side and leaned down to press a kiss to her neck. She smelled like the kitchen, and soap. She smelled clean, and good, and like home. She always had, and Fugaku could love her just for that. Mikoto leaned back against him, her head falling back onto his shoulder. He hadn't realized until it had come back, but they'd been missing these small moments of intimacy for months now. Ever since Itachi had gotten sick, they seemed to appear magically almost daily.
"It's nice, having you home every night," Mikoto observed in an eerie echo of Fugaku's thoughts. "You usually work so late you just catch a nap at the station. Have you had a lighter load?"
"I've been delegating my work more," Fugaku replied, though muffled my Mikoto's skin. He touched her sides and ran his hands around to her firm stomach. She wasn't fighting fit anymore, but she still maintained an athletic fitness. She was just a little softer around the edges.
"I thought you didn't like delegating your work," Mikoto murmured.
"I don't, but I thought it was better for me to be home right now." Fugaku felt Mikoto tensed and he cursed inwardly.
"Because Itachi's sick." Mikoto picked her head up. "I've been trying to get you to let the others help you more with your work for months now, and the minute Itachi gets sick you drop everything and rush home."
"Forgive me for wanting to be with my son while he's sick." Fugaku didn't pull back, but he could feel the distance building between them again. It always happened. The more he was home, the more it happened. Oh, they had good moments, hours, even nights, but eventually it boiled down to another sharing of embittered words. This was just the beginning.
"You wouldn't do this for anyone but Itachi. If Sasuke were sick-"
"If Sasuke were as sick as Itachi, you know I would be with him," Fugaku countered.
"Would you really?" Mikoto turned around in her husbands arms and regarded him with her dark eyes. He hated to see what was swirling in them. "You never take any other time off for him. You weren't even going to go to the ceremony when he started at the Academy until Itachi insisted on it."
"Please, not this again, Mikoto. I spend as much time with Sasuke as I can."
"And you spend more with Itachi. You've always played favorites with them, Fugaku. Sasuke's just as deserving of your time and love as Itachi is."
"No, he's not." Fugaku's finger shot up to block Mikoto's angry words. "Sasuke, we both know, will never be the ninja Itachi is. As clan leader I should be putting more time into my more talented and promising heir, not the other. All children are not equal, Mikoto." But that didn't mean their parents could ignore one, or love one less. That didn't make it right to do such a thing.
"I love Sasuke just as much as I love Itachi, but we're losing Itachi. He's growing up too fast. He's not a child anymore, and soon he won't even be living under our roof."
"So you think because Sasuke's younger he'll wait around for you to finish running after Itachi before he grows up?" Mikoto asked sharply. "You spent twice as much time with Itachi when he was Sasuke's age."
"I was gone for the first four years of Itachi's life-"
Mikoto shook her head. "That doesn't make any difference. You've been gone most of Sasuke's life, even though you've been in the village for all of it. He barely even knows who his father is, and you won't give him a chance to. You're always making time for Itachi, your perfect son-your favorite."
Fugaku looked at his wife, and his lips quirked into that smile that they both knew she hated. "Isn't Itachi everyone's favorite? Who is Sasuke always tagging along after? Who do people always ask after when you visit, Mikoto? People can't help favoring Itachi, because he's so far above their understanding. They want to feel closer to him, hoping his greatness will rub off on them. When Itachi's in the room, don't you feel everyone else isn't as significant? Don't you feel they can be ignored as long as Itachi is in the room?"
Mikoto shoved herself up from the floor, and walked across the room in strides that said more than words ever could Fugaku listened to her. He set her brush down on the small table and put out the dim light. He could hear Mikoto getting into bed, sliding under the covers. Her back was to him. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it.
"That's why you hound after me so much to spend time with him. You find yourself ignoring Sasuke in favor of Itachi, and when you see me doing it, it sends the knife of guilt deeper. Mothers should be impartial, shouldn't they?"
"Father's too."
"No one's impartial. Everyone plays favorites."
"Even the police force?"
"We're only human."
There was a silence that Fugaku knew all too well. His marriage was filled with these silences. Their marriage had been for bloodlines and excellence, not love. They had learned to love later, though sometimes it was shakey and shallow. It used to be better, when they were younger. Now, the silences were longer, more frequent, and possibly why Fugaku found it more restFul to nap on a couch at the station than to come home to his family.
"I love Sasuke more than Itachi. I raised Sasuke for myself. I raised Itachi for you and Konoha. I want everyone to love Sasuke like I do, but not even you will." Mikoto's voice was soft in the darkness. Fugaku moved to the bed and slid under the covers. He placed his back to Mikoto's, and wondered why it was easier to tell nasty truths in the dark. The dark didn't make them less real or heard.
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