Chapter Text
Fugaku slumps onto the nearby kitchen stool with such a flop that the chair creaks.
She heard him come in, but she didn’t bother to greet him. It’s not like he’s done much to earn the courtesy. Of course he’d come back only when the older children are out and Sasuke is napping. His timing is so impeccable, she’d think he had one of the officers check to make sure he didn’t run into any of their children.
He sits in silence, so Mikoto ignores him. This game of hide and seek has become annoying. She harshly scrubs grime from the plate in her hand. The sponge rubs in squeaking circles, and she watches the water spurt from the facet. She won’t speak first, not now. Mikoto waits until he seems to finally gain the courage to speak.
“The Hokage sent Kakashi to collect Ichigo for a meeting.”Fugaku says, “ He informed me that Ichigo would be attending dinner with the Hokage and his son---alone.”
This again.
Mikoto freezes. She slowly lowers the dishes back into the soapy water.
She’s angry, but there’s no need to break her good dishes.
Mikoto chooses her words carefully. She doesn’t want to make herself more upset than she already is.
“That’s quite rude of him. I’m displeased to hear we were not invited.”
That bastard has to be planning something.
It was bound to happen eventually. That doesn’t mean she’s going to let it slide. She didn't anticipate the Hokage to come calling so soon, but he did.
It’s not the optimal situation, but it gave Fugaku the incentive she couldn't. That’s at least one good thing to come out of it. Mikoto wishes it didn't come to that, but beggars can’t be choosers.
At least he’s here now.
The Hokage’s had never been so bold, so flippant, and it’s not a reassuring sign.
They can’t be divided right now.
She trusts Ichigo wouldn’t leave the compound, but he's not completely foolish. He can grasp the difference between an order and a request.
“I hope you're not upset with me.” Mikoto wipes her hands dry on her apron.“ Ichigo said he would stay in the compound. He wanted to train, and Shisui had a mission.”
There’s no time for the two of them to be at each other’s throats. It’s bad enough that both Danzo and Hiruzen are circling their child, like the war hawks they are. Mikoto is grateful Fugaku seems to see that. They've been at odds for the last few days. It's nice to be on the same page.
His elbows rest on the table, holding up his head with his hands. He wouldn't look out of place among their children at their most petulant. It should only serve to irritate her, but Mikoto won’t deny---it’s a little cute.
Fugaku answers with an exasperated sigh,“I told Kakashi to please just come through the front gates. If for any reason he needs any member of our clan, especially our sons, it shouldn’t be so covert like that. He just shrugged . I'm furious, Miko! I feel like every inch we gain is just another step back! I'm just…tired. I’m tired of being overstepped. I am angry, but not with you.”
“You know why they did that.” Mikoto replies, “You know why they keep doing that. It’s not going to just go away because you dislike it.”
It was smart of Kakashi to come to Fugaku. Had he tried to pull that with Mikoto then he probably wouldn’t have been allowed to leave. It still wouldn't have accomplished anything, but she finds the thought comforting.
Fugaku continues,“I could've been firmer with him. At the time, I was too shocked to react. I couldn’t believe Sarutobi would act so blatantly. Our boy was at home , and Hiruzen sent his dog to collect him.”
He must be angry. Mikoto thought Fugaku liked the Hatake boy.
He still isn’t seeing the big picture.
Hiruzen sent his dog to take his heir , and prove he easily can if he so wants.
Her husband is not dumb. He's book smart, a good study. He’s still not as smart as Mikoto wishes he was when it comes to people.
As much as Fugaku wants to protect their family, he doesn’t know where to begin.
There’s only so much she can do right now too, but Mikoto doesn’t want to think about it.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fugaku tries to stave off the inevitable headache.
“How dare he be so bold to interrogate our son. Only the gods know what filth Danzo could be whispering in his ear.”
“Darling, I get it. I do.” Mikoto says. “ Ichigo should be ready for it. We should be ready.”
The sadness and regret in his voice annoys her a little, but she shoves it down. Who was it that avoided his family? Who decided to push their son away? His avoidance is frustrating, and actively upsetting the children. His will wavers far too much for Mikoto's liking. She feels the urge burning in her stomach. She desperately wants to throw it in his face, but that’s just the anger talking.
There’s no place for it right now. They’ve both been angry enough. There are bigger problems. That still doesn’t leave him off the hook for his behavior.
Mikoto offers, “A discussion with Ino-Shika-Cho wouldn't go amiss. Another perspective on the matter might help. They would see the Hokage overstepped. The more we’re pushed into a corner, the stronger their case against us is.”
“I suppose you're right.” Fugaku says, “I send invitations to meet more professionally than last time. It couldn't hurt.”
It’s reasonable to expect the Hokage would get curious. Everyone else certainly is. That doesn't mean Mikoto isn’t shaking from the insult. Hiruzen went over their heads. Ichigo is not a shinobi, and Hiruzen is not his commander. Still, Ichigo is becoming a powerful player on the board. She’s not the only one to see it, and that’s a problem. He is a capable fighter, but it’s not enough.
Ichigo will grow up to lead the Uchiha clan.
They should treat him as such.
She never would’ve expected Fugaku to be an indulgent parent. Mikoto loves her eldest son, of course she does, but it’s different for Fugaku.
Maybe they should've been stricter, harsher. Had it come down to it, they would have forced him to enlist. She wants to talk with her mother about it. She can’t, but that doesn't stop the desire from eating at her. Mikoto does what her mother would want. She ignores it and takes a breath.
“Were your days any easier avoiding us all?” She says, ““you still owe me a day of your time. You never take a day off. You could've spent the day with me instead of being angry at our son, but no, all that wasted time. The Hyuuga may think less of us, but who doesn’t?”
Fugaku sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. If anything, Mikoto thinks he should look more ashamed.
“I…I took my frustration out on you, all of you. I’m sorry for that. Hizashi actually came by the station this morning. He said even with Ichigo’s assistance to Hinata they understand he's known to be--- unruly . We kept him in the dark out of politeness and meant no disrespect. He gets that, or perhaps thinks he can convince Hiashi of it. He’ll alert me when Hiashi himself is ready to meet with me.”
It's something at least. Mikoto doubted they'd even get a second meeting. She can work with that.
“Even if we really could benefit,” She jokes. “I hope you weren't sneaking around with him while you were away this week. It might help in the short term, but I doubt it would help our relations with the Nara clan.”
She cackles at his rosy pink cheeks.
“Don't joke about that.,” he chides. “This is serious.”
Fugaku still has so much to learn. Every kindness can be an advantage, and Mikoto knows he might not ever learn that. It’s a good thing he has her to help.
There is so much to do. What the Hokage wants with her son, she doesn't know. Mikoto doesn't even want to think about it, just for the moment, before their children come running back home. Mikoto slides close to him. Sliding her arms around him, she lays her face on his broad back and holds him tight. The steady rhythm of his heart soothes her.
He relaxes under her touch.
He is still her precious husband.
“You haven’t been eating well,” Mikoto says.
Fugaku replies, “I know…”
It's been nearly ten years since her mother took her aside and gave her the news. Mikoto's marriage had been arranged. Back then, Fugaku was wet behind the ears as a leader, and bashful with women. Happiness in marriage wasn’t something she foresaw. Marriage felt like an abstract idea in the far future.
Mikoto had been…disappointed in the match. Kushina had been one factor, but Mikoto didn't want to be tied to a man known as a crybaby either.
None of that mattered. She still could not say no. The nations were edging towards war and duty must come first.
Mikoto was the clan head's favorite after all, and she was given the order to marry the clan head's son. So, she did.
It's different now.
Regardless of any of his faults, he is her husband.
She missed him.
Even when Mikoto feels blinded by her own anger and frustrations with everything : their village, her family, the world, even her cowardly husband.
She always misses him.
Mikoto holds him until he takes a deep breath and all the tension he's been holding slips away. He slumps and leans his weight against the kitchen counter.
She presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, “you are my husband.”
Her too serious, too foolish husband with his heart as soft a silk. Fugaku uses his Sharingan to speed read. He used to sing her songs he learned from his company during the war.
That is who he is.
He would've done well had he been allowed to live the true life of a second born son.
“You are my wife. I promised.” Fugaku turns around and pulls her into a tight hug, “It's you and I, until the very last moment.”
That is the easiest way for him to say I love you.
They are shinobi. Since they were children, they've both been prepared to die.
Fugaku kisses her palm and whispers against her hand, “I can't do this without you. You know that.”
Mikoto gazes into his dark eyes,“Then stop shutting me out,”
“It doesn't help.” Fugaku concedes, “you do. I'm sorry, Miko. I just---get lost in my head sometimes.”
His body is warm and solid against her. His light touch up her arms leaves her shivering. He gently cradles her head. Any of the prior anger feels distant now that her face is pressed against his chest.
They haven't slept side by side in days.
Fugaku says, “I will speak with Ichigo. I shouldn't have avoided it.”
She kisses the tip of his nose. Good choices deserve rewards.
“Oh? I think that’s a good idea.” Mikoto teases. “What genius thought of that? Ah yes, myself.”
“I know, I know.”
He smiles that silly wide grin she loves. It is so warm and bright. Mikoto wishes she could see it more than he does.
She can't help but kiss him. His lips are chapped. Fugaku is too prone to biting them when stressed, but they’re still soft. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Mikoto kisses her husband. Fugaku pulls her even closer, as close as he can. He holds her with one hand curling into her hair and the other wrapped tightly around her back.
Maybe he missed her too .
Itachi shouts, “I am home, and no one said welcome home!”
They hastily pull apart. Neither are used to being startled, but Itachi can be quiet when he wants to be. They hadn’t noticed him even come in, let alone announce himself. Itachi pouts, but doesn’t seem to notice or care that they were a bit preoccupied.
He hangs his head, “you didn't tell me welcome home.”
Their little Itachi, while neither skilled in arts or music, is prone to fits of melancholy and introspectiveness. Small slights are big for him, and Mikoto does try to respect that.
She pats his head, “Forgive me, I didn't realize you were home. Did you have a nice walk?”
Itachi states, “I saw five cats.”
“Where did you run off to?” Fugaku asks.
Itachi answers by lifting the box of dango
He glanced suspiciously at his wife, “you don't even like dango.”
Mikoto takes the box from Itachi and opens it. She hands one stick to Itachi and one to Fugaku.
“Perhaps the two of you will share.”
Fugaku looks down at Itachi who is already pulling a dango off the stick with his teeth.
“Give one to Ichigo, won’t you?” Mikoto asks. “I have to go wake Sasuke.”
If he sleeps too long now, bedtime will be a trial. She’ll have her own time to speak with her son. Right now, it’s his father’s time; better late than never.
Mikoto does hear it this time. The front door slides and clicks open and shut before another voice announces himself.
“Mom, I’m back!”
Ichigo is finally home.