It’s snowing outside, big fluffy flakes that panic out of towners and make locals hunker down in afghans and sit at their windows. It’ll taper off by morning and everything will be draped in white lace.
Up the driveway is a house. It’s a small house with a single occupant, set back from the road. There are icicle lights hanging along its gutters and the small pine in the front yard is decorated. There’s a wreath on the door.
he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. The car is cooling and the windshield is beginning to fog. He could drive down the road another ten miles, hit the exit, get a motel room. He could drink old coffee, call his brother in the morning. He could say he tried.
On his front seat his phone screen is dark. The last text he received was four hours ago, from his best friend asking him if he’d left yet.
He had to use to GPS to get here. He’d never thought the person in the house would move from the shaded boulevard where all the generations of his family trade barbeque and secrets in big backyards filled with bowing trees.
He never thought a lot of things would happen.
This is a mistake, he says to himself. He unbuckles his seatbelt, unlocks the door.
A mistake.
He gets out of the car, straightens his shirt and coat. It’s not a long walk to the front door but he puts his hat and scarf on anyway. He grabs his phone, slides it into his pocket.
The fat flakes are gathering on his shoulders. He can see a few- thousands of angles and facets doomed to melt.
He begins his walk up to the door. The walkway is clear, salted and sanded. He can see where some parts are scraped down to the rock beneath, likely hand-laid and mortared.
I should turn around.
He doesn’t.
Each of the three steps up to the door feels like a thousand miles. Is there a doorbell? He can’t see one. There’s only the heavy iron knocker. He knows the likelihood of it coming to life and reminding him of past sins is slim, but he still gives it a chance.
It’s nothing but a knocker, immobile and cold.
He takes a deep, deep breath, lifts his hand and grabs it. He slams the knocker resolutely against its plate three times. The sound echoes over the yard and down the empty street. How can this front porch feel so far away when he can see the lights of the next house’s display?
There’s movement inside- someone large. He can hear footsteps and before his heart can jump up his throat and strangle his brain the door opens.
There is a flood of light and scent and soft sound and a man.
He’s wearing a worn gray tee shirt and bluejeans. There’s flour on the thighs where he habitually rubs during baking prep. His hair’s in a messy ponytail. He hasn’t cut it save for trims in years.
The man on the porch laces his fingers together so tight they’re going pale in his gloves and says, “Merry Christmas, Chouichi.”
For a second time has stopped.
In the seconds after, Chouichi will reach out and grab him, whisper his name over and over, “Itachi, Itachi-” each repetition a prayer and a curse and a demand and a wish. Itachi will be dragged inside into the warmth. They will sit on the couch and won’t talk, their arms and legs entwined and Itachi’s nose against Chouichi’s neck.
They will both get angry, they will both cry, and they will both forgive.
In the morning they will go- first to Chouichis’ parents, then to Itachis’. Kisame will get a text that says ‘you were right’ and he’ll screenshot and and grin about it and be generally insufferable until after new years. There will be hot buttered rum and kisses and chests filled with butterflies and bats.
All of this happens after.
For this second- at the stroke of midnight, though he didn’t plan it that way- Uchiha Itachi is standing on the porch of the man he loves and left, and inside is warm and outside is cold while in the dark it is snowing fat flakes that panic out of towners and make locals hunker down in afghans and sit at their windows.
It is Christmas and Itachi is, for the first time in a long time, home.
Itachi looked from his neatly folded hands to the girl- woman- sitting beside him in the chair. Inuzuka Hana had become a splendid ninja.
“What about you?” He asked, unabashedly looking to avoid what he knew was coming.
“I was hurt and I was furious,” Hana said evenly, “Because I knew you, Itachi. I knew your scent and I knew your soul. Mother told me you’d done it and I didn’t believe her until I saw the corpses. I thought, ‘how could I have been so wrong?’ and ‘how could my sense of smell be so weak?’”
She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I spent a lot of time training after you left. I was determined to never let anyone fool me the way you did again. And no one has,” She settled back. “Only now it turns out I was right all along and I still don’t forgive you.”
“You’re going to get it,” Hana said. “Officially, unofficially. There’s gonna be books written about the choices you made. Years from now some puppet nin from Suna is gonna play you in a great tragedy. Scholars are gonna argue about what you meant and why for generations. I hope that stings like hell.”
Silence. Then, with a sigh, Hana continued, “I’d like to say Chouichi will never forgive you but I know better.”
“What does Chouichi have to do with this?” Itachi asked.
Hana gave the Uchiha a long, considering look. “You’re a genius. That was a stupid question unbefitting a genius.”
Itachi opened his mouth, then closed it. “You were saying I ruined his life,” he said, surrendering in the face of a battle he knew he couldn’t avoid.
Hana crossed her arms. “Yeah, you fucking did.”
“Am I to get any elaboration?” Itachi asked. “One could argue I’ve ruined a great many lives.”
“Keep bad humor out of this. It fits your big blue partner better.”
Itachi inclined his head. Hana crossed one leg over the other and laced her fingers together around her raised knee.
“Chouichi loved you, Itachi,” She said and felt a bitter satisfaction at the tiny wince from her former genin teammate. “He worshipped you like a flower worships the sun. You were everything and in one night you were taken away.”
“I never asked to be worshipped,” Itachi said, hands clenching in the bedcovers.
“I know that. He knows that, too. Doesn’t mean he didn’t. You were the reason he woke up in the morning and you were gone and everyone was calling you a murderer.”
“I am a murderer,” Itachi said harshly, and Hana lifted the edge of her lip, showing teeth. Itachi took a few deep breaths in through his nose. Hana relaxed.
“They took away his position in the clan.”
Itachi’s head snapped up and his eyes focused on Hana for the first time since she had walked into the room. “What?”
“Chouichi took your leaving hard, Itachi,” Hana said sharply. “Really hard. He was angry, he was sad, and he took it out on everyone- me, his clan members, other nin. He was a downright ogre. The Akimichi Elder Council deemed him unfit for leadership.”
“He was fourteen!” Itachi exclaimed.
“A proviso was put in place,” Hana elaborated, “but he didn’t get much better. The switch was official three years ago. Chouji’s sixteenth heir.”
Itachi felt all the air leave him in a hard whoosh. “But he wanted to protect them,” he heard himself murmur. “he trained so hard to look after the Akimichi.”
“I asked him about that, one time we met for dinner,” Hana said lightly. “You know what he said?”
Itachi looked at her.
“He said a Clan Head who couldn’t defend a single precious person would be useless to his clan.”
Itachi’s throat felt like it was full of cotton.
“He joined ANBU.”
Itachi stared at Hana.
“Been in for years now. Excellent service record. I haven’t asked for his killcount. He might not keep one.” Hana stood. “Has a daughter, too. Adopted- she’s quite sweet. His whole world, though he’s not obnoxious about it.”
She looked down on Itachi. Her face softened.
“You never asked to be the sun to his flower,” she said, “and when his world went dark he built a new one. It was a long, hard slog. He deserves all the happiness he fought for when you went.”
Itachi finally managed to swallow. Hana continued, “but I know him and so do you. If you reach out, he’ll look to you again. He’ll hate himself for it, but he can’t help it.”
“I won’t bother-”
“Don’t lie to me, Itachi,” Hana said. “I hate the way you smell when you lie.”
Itachi fell silent.
“You might be the sun to his flower,” Hana said, “but he’s the rock to your river. You never forgot that, did you?”
Itachi mutely shook his head.
She put her hands on the blanket and leaned forward, forcing Itachi to catch her eyes.
“Don’t fuck this up a second time, Itachi.” She said, voice tinged with warning and fear and hope. “for either of your sakes.”
She left the hospital room quietly. The door shut without a whisper but it might as well have slammed. Itachi looked at it long after she was gone.
If you're still taking Chouichi prompts, maybe him interacting with Chouji's kids? I think he'd be an awesome uncle!
((full disclosure this is from a ‘verse I don’t plan on delving too far into with A/B/O/N dynamics so while we’re using heteronormative pronouns for simplicity’s sake no one here technically counts as man or woman since each of those letters encapsulates a gender))
((The N stands for Null if anyone cares))
((moving on))
It had been a full day’s training in the far fields and Uchiha Chouichi was walking his niece home. They were halfway to the Akimichi compound when she said, “It’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair, Sen?” Chouichi asked her.
“I’m still WAITING.” Sen groused, kicking a rock and watching it bounce down the road. “Everyone ELSE has a sharingan!” She watched the rock hit a smaller boulder at the side of the road and shatter. “It’s embarrassing.”
“What, Ice Release not good enough for you?” Chouichi gently teased.
“You know that’s not what I meant, Uncle.” Sen said, grabbing his arm. Chouichi lifted and all four feet three inches of her hung in midair and kicked as she said, “Ice Release is the best.”
“Yes it is.” Chouichi said with a little self-satisfied smile. He carefully set Sen down. “You know it’s possible you might not wake a Sharingan, Sen.”
“All four of my brothers have it!” Sen said. “I refuse to be a statistical outlier!”
“Do you even know what a statistical outlier is?”
“It’s ME if I can’t wake my dojutsu!”
“You shouldn’t wish pain upon yourself, Sen.” Chouichi said. “All of your brothers suffered for their eyes.”
“Except Asuma.” Sen grumbled. “Stupid Asuma.”
“Asuma is the very definition of outlier.” Chouichi said.
“Yeah but he still got it! And Choumaru didn’t lose anything! He just punched a guy until he died!”
“Choumaru was defending his team mates and thought he was going to lose them both.” Chouichi said, somewhat sharply. “He was afraid for his life and the lives of those he cared about. Naozumi was nearly burned alive. You know very well that Hikaru is still suffering the aftereffects of that mission to Lightning.”
Sen crossed her arms and was quiet for a moment.
“I just want Papa to be proud of me.” She whispered.
Chouichi swept her up and walked off the road to the shade of a nearby tree. He deposited his niece there and sat. When she stared at him he patted the grass.
Sen carefully sat beside him.
“Your Sire,” Chouichi said, “is a bit of a moron.”
Sen’s giggle was wet. “You always say that.”
“I say that because it’s true and if he was any more of a moron he wouldn’t have survived to help make you.” Chouichi said. “Regardless of his idiocy, Sen, he is very proud of you.”
“Dame says that, too.” Sen said as she folded her arms over her skinny legs. “And I know he’s right, but.”
“But you’re the youngest child in a family with five Sharingan users.” Chouichi said.
“And an Akimichi family prodigy.” Sen said gloomily. “and a genius medical ninja.”
“Hikaru makes a good chocolate cake are you going to start comparing your baking skills?” Chouichi asked.
“It feels like everything’s already done.” Sen said. “Like I don’t have anything to offer.”
The air around them began to cool despite the summer glow of the sun. Chouichi said, “Whatever I tell you, you won’t believe me. You’re like your Sire in that regard.”
Sen snorted.
“But.”
He held out his hand. Sen watched as it filled with a pure, perfect globe of ice. She reached out and touched it. Her own red ice twisted around the globe, creating a base.
“You are Akimichi Sen,” Chouichi said, “the student I never thought I’d have.”
The globe filled with a self-contained snowstorm.
“Whether you wake the Sharingan or not,” Chouichi said as he put the globe in her hands, “you are amazing to me.”
Sen watched the globe begin to melt in the wet heat.
“Hey, Uncle Chouichi.” She said, putting the globe on the grass between them, “what does winter become?”
Chouichi chuckled. “Spring.”
“I’m gonna have a springtime, right?” Sen asked.
“You will.” Chouichi promised her. “and it’s going to be beautiful.”
Monster Verse: Itachi/Chouichi where Kisame met them, decided he liked them and joined Konoha only to learn about the Monsters and Chouichi delighting in scaring Kisame to death while Itachi facepalms in the background and everyone is happy and Kisame plays best man for both Itachi and Chouichi at their wedding and cries more then everyone else while Chouza or Chouji awkwardly pats him on the back. Just, anything happy endly after after that tear jerker, gimme married Chouichi/Itachi!
Fighting an Uchiha wasn’t that hard.
Kisame was surprised. He’d figured, what with all the legends, that this particular bounty would be the hardest he and Samehada had ever tried for. He’d figured what the hell if he had to go out, he might as well go out going after the very best.
So cornering Itachi -freaking- Uchiha, well.
“This is disappointing.” Kisame said, readying to swing his sword. “I don’t know who fought you before, but they must have been pathetic.”
Itachi said nothing. Kisame swung-
and Samehada was caught.
Itachi Uchiha smiled and so did the thing holding Samehada’s metal-slicing spines at bay with its bare hands.
“Sucker,” It said, and then all Kisame knew was darkness.
—
The second time Kisame faced off against Itachi Uchiha the Thing was nowhere in sight. Instead the man was travelling with another leaf ninja, a big fat guy with lots of red hair. Kisame searched his bingo book just in case but he couldn’t find an entry.
Fodder, then.
Fodder pinned Kisame to a tree and when he grinned it was very familiar. Though Samehada had ripped his outer layers to pieces, there was no blood, not even a scratch.
Itachi, leaning on a rock on the other side of the clearing, said, “He’d probably give you indigestion.”
“Yeah but I love it when they fight.”
Kisame bore teeth and Fodder bore teeth back. They were bigger and they were sharper.
They were the Thing teeth.
Kisame blinked and Fodder said, smile growing wider than possible for a human, “You up for round two, fishstick?”
—
The Thing was named Akimichi Chouichi, and he was Itachi’s bodyguard.
“At least that’s what we tell people at inns.” Chouichi said.
Samehada was quivering and Kisame didn’t like it but so was he. Itachi assured him that was a natural, human reaction.
“I’m not human,” Kisame said immediately, and Chouichi snorted.
“You can lie to your friends and I’ll lie to mine.” He said.
They had come seeking Kisame, hoped that word of Itachi would draw him out. They had a certain task to accomplish, and a chakra-sucking sword would help that immensely.
“There’s monetary compensation in it for you, of course.” Itachi said. “Per the orders of our Hokage.”
Kisame thought of Zabuza, feeding on the bottom.
“When we’re done I’m killing you both.” He said.
Chouichi smiled his too-wide smile. “Not if I eat you first, sweetheart.” He said.
—
They were a pretty good team.
Itachi could immobilize, entrap and eliminate. Chouichi could get into anywhere and once he was there destroying anything in front of him- flesh or stone- was child’s play.
(there was also the ice, which Chouichi assured Kisame wasn’t actually something ‘anyone else in my family’ could do; a hangover from a marriage years ago.)
Kisame slotted neatly between, able to bridge the gap between Itachi’s subtleties and Chouichi’s charging force.
Samehada began to get used to the two leaf ninja, in its own way. Kisame wasn’t sure what to think when he woke one morning to find the sword sitting beside Chouichi at the fire. Chouichi was stroking its spines like a cat.
They obtained the item the Hokage had wanted and Kisame got his money.
“Do we fight now?” Chouichi asked, just a bit too hopeful.
“Later.” Itachi said and they turned and left Kisame alone in the soft misty morning.
—
Getting into Konoha was a bitch and a half, but it helped that officially Kisame was no longer a citizen of Kiri. Still he got a few side-eyes when he offered his papers to the chunin at the gate.
He was in the village for all of ten minutes when Itachi found him, eyes winking merrily from red to black and back to red.
“I think I win,” he said, linking arms with Kisame. “Chouichi had you out for another week.”
“I live to disappoint.” Kisame deadpanned. On his back, Samehada shook with amusement.
—
There were others like Chouichi, and they were all as terrifying.
To make matters worse (better?) there were others who weren’t at all like Chouichi, but definitely weren’t human either.
One of these, named Shikaku, looked Kisame up and down.
“Can we keep him?” Chouichi asked.
Shikaku snorted and Kisame smelled blood on his breath.
“If I can convince the Hokage of this I deserve to sleep for a hundred years.” He said.
“Your wife will never let you.” Itachi said.
“More’s the goddamn pity.” Shikaku muttered.
—
Itachi was going to be the next Head of the Uchiha, and Chouichi fully planned on marrying him.
“Which leaves Sasuke to carry on the family name.” Itachi said. “What about you?”
Kisame shook his head.
“We aren’t all meant for marriage.” Itachi acknowledged. He looked down at the passing caravan. “There’s our mark. You ready?”
Kisame’s grin would never be as wide as Chouichi’s but it was a close second.
“Of course you are.”
—
“One of them has to yield.” Chouji said to Itachi.
“They’ll both die first.” Itachi told him.
Eventually Chouichi was the victor because even without all the chakra that Samehada had sucked up he was still heavier than Kisame and he could still pin the other ninja for a ten-count.
“Now I get to eat you!” Chouichi said, and promptly passed out.
—
“He’ll be okay.” Chouichi said to himself as they ran. “He will be.”
“He will be.” Kisame assured him. “Now let’s rip some limbs off.”
Chouichi’s grin was half snarl and Kisame could see his horns in the half-light of the moon. “Yes. Let’s.”
They left a bloody trail behind them and when Itachi emerged victorious Chouichi hung on to him for a solid minute before he would even consider letting the Uchiha go debrief.
—
It was a beautiful day for a wedding.
Kisame had never been a best man. He’d never been a best man TWICE but here he was in a kimono that cost more than he wanted to think about. The leaf symbol on his hitai-ate seemed lighter than normal.
It was a good thing that the Akimichi had tissues handy. Kisame and Samehada both were a damn mess.
“What a beautiful ceremony,” one of the attendees said- the pretty girl with the deadly fuinjutsu, wearing red now instead of pink. “Can I look at your sword later?”
Kisame stared at her.
“That was both literal and a euphemism.” She said. “If you want.”
Kisame chuckled.
“I’ll seriously consider it.” He said. “But for now I need to go make sure Sasuke catches the bouquet.”
“Can I help?” The girl asked. “I’m good with wires.”
It wasn't that Chouji was hiding his brother from Sasuke, really.
---
It wasn't that Chouji was hiding his brother from Sasuke, really.
Sasuke was perfectly aware that Chouji was a younger son, that there was an older brother and that that older brother-Chouichi- had a busy and important job which no one SAID was ANBU, but no one said wasn't, either.
Sasuke even remembered Chouichi, vaguely- as he remembered all things before the Uchiha Incident, his memories tinged with sepia and distrust.
As time wore on and they crossed hurdle after cousin after famous-for-multiple-successful-poisonings aunt, Sasuke began to think that maybe Chouji wasn't so much hiding Chouichi from Sasuke as he was hiding Sasuke from Chouichi.
That stung. Sasuke wasn't sure why, really, but he knew he didn't like it.
The day after the 'Congrats for getting into ANBU don't die' party that Naruto had thrown for him, Sasuke dank coffee and watched Chouji try to find the words.
Chouji wasn't good at expressing himself, not when it came to personal things. Gently guiding his students? He was a master. Explaining jutsus to struggling little Akimichis? Piece of cake. Eloquently arguing a point in meetings of the Clan Heads? Child's play.
Trying to say something he thought might upset his lover?
Completely impossible.
Sasuke didn't help him. Too many misunderstandings early in their relationship had led him to conclude that it was simplest just to wait for Chouji to sort himself out. It might take longer than he liked, but eventually it would happen.
It did just as Sasuke's cup was emptying.
"I think we should have dinner with Chouichi."
Sasuke said, "Oh?"
"Well, you're going to be coworkers in three days." Chouji said, looking at a spot just over Sasuke's head. "So, you know."
"I know?" Sasuke encouraged.
Chouji sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Maybe you should go by yourself." He said quietly.
"Why?" Sasuke asked.
"It's complicated." Chouji said weakly. "It's- it shouldn't be but it is. Sasuke do you remember-" He halted and Sasuke said nothing.
"Do you remember your brother's genin team?" Chouji asked.
"Sort of." Sasuke acknowledged. "They were Inuzuka Hana and Akimi-"
He blinked.
"Oh." He said quietly.
"Yeah. Oh." Chouji said.
---
Dinner didn't go terribly, all things considered.
Sasuke would admit, readily, to being surprised at how very different Chouichi was from the rest of his clan. Not physically, no, but emotionally. He was about as expressive as an ice burg. Chouji had warned Sasuke about that. "You're gonna think he hates you," he said as they walked up the path to Chouichi's house, one of many scattered around the edges of Akimichi land. "everyone thinks he hates them at first."
Chouichi certainly wasn't overly welcoming. He opened the door, greeted them both, and led them inside. It felt more like a formal tea ceremony than a quiet dinner with a potential brother in law.
Dinner was delicious and of course it was, if there was an Akimichi who couldn't cook Sasuke hadn't met them. The conversation wasn't flowing but nor did it feel unnatural.
Still.
Chouichi watched Sasuke and he made no secret of it.
When the meal was finished Chouji excused himself to wash the dishes, which left Chouichi and Sasuke on the front porch drinking tea.
There was a tense quiet for a few minutes before Chouichi said, "Last time I saw you you were a lot smaller."
Sasuke nodded. "I was."
A few more minutes of silence.
"When do you start?" Chouichi asked.
"In three days." Sasuke said.
"Do you have a team assignment yet?"
Sasuke shook his head.
"I put my money on Team Ai." Chouichi said. He sighed and leaned back against a post.
"How long did it take him to talk around this dinner?" Chouichi asked Sasuke.
"At least twenty minutes." Sasuke said.
"Is that all? He's getting better. Three years ago it would have taken him an hour." Chouichi said.
"Do you remember my brother?" Sasuke asked. Quick, clinical, lancing the untouched wound that they shared.
Chouichi gazed out at the dark trees.
"Yes." He said. "I remember your brother."
"Sometimes it feels like no one does." Sasuke said. "Like I'm the only person who ever knew he existed at all."
Chouichi's chuckle was bitter. "You're not. Much as Konoha would like to pretend it's so, you're not."
"Chouji didn't want me to meet you." Sasuke admitted.
"Chouji doesn't want me to relapse." Chouichi said.
Sasuke's brow furrowed and Chouichi said, "Did you ever ask him why he's the heir and I'm the spare?"
Sasuke shook his head. "No."
"Your brother," Chouichi said, "was the most magnificent ninja I had ever seen. He could do anything and I truly believed with time he would surpass even the Hokage." Chouichi leaned back on his big palms. "I worshipped the ground Itachi walked on."
Sasuke finally moved to sit down beside Chouichi. "I did, too." He admitted quietly.
"It was hard not to." Chouichi said with a sidelong glance at the Uchiha. "There was something about Itachi that was untouchable but you wanted to hold it and keep it close."
Sasuke had never heard someone describe his brother like this- like the person he had been, or the person he had fooled the world into thinking he was. In Sasuke's mind's eye Itachi was those two shining red points, that bloodied sword, that debilitating blow and the darkness that closed in around a compound full of the dead.
"When the Incident happened I fell apart."
Chouichi let those words hang in the air for Sasuke to consider, to touch and feel and wonder over.
"I had fits of temper. I couldn't be calmed. I picked fights with my elders, my teachers, with father. I was angry at everyone and everything."
Chouichi leaned forward and looked down the path.
"Stupid. Itachi barely knew I existed- our team was together all of six months before his promotion- but he had such a hold on me that losing him was like losing half my body. I was so far gone Third was sending me on missions better suited to jounin just to get rid of me for a while."
In the warm dark of the porch, as the fireflies began to light up in the bushes, Sasuke felt like he couldn't breathe. He remembered the time after the Incident as a hellish swirl of rage tinged with sadness and betrayal. It had been all consuming- still was.
It hadn't occurred to him that anyone else could feel even remotely as he did, or that they had the right.
"When I came back from an escort mission to Tea Country, the Elder Council informed me that they had stripped me of my position in the Clan." Chouichi said. "I was heir on paper only. As soon as Chouji made chunin, the switch would be official."
"How could they do that?" Sasuke asked.
Chouichi's laugh was full of old hated and touched with the understanding that come through pain. "Your actions never exist in a vacuum, Sasuke. The beat of a butterfly's wing may cause an earthquake on the other side of the world and is it the fault of the butterfly? Maybe. Maybe not. But that doesn't stop it from happening."
"You were suffering." Sasuke said, voice becoming heated. "You were mourning and no one helped you."
"You know Chouji said the same thing."
Sasuke froze.
"I didn't want him to know but he did. You know Chouji- ears like a fox. My baby brother, barely old enough to learn to properly throw kunai, showing exactly zero potential as an active ninja, told me that the clan had done wrong by me and that if it took him his whole life he would see it set right."
Chouichi crossed is arms on his knees. "Chouji never forgave himself for being made heir. I had to talk him into taking the chunin exam the first time. Had to boot him out the door the second."
"I'm sorry." Sasuke said.
"For what? Your brother? Don't waste your breath." Chouichi said. "Why he did what he did- I'll never understand it. He beat his wings and I caused an earthquake and my earthquake threw my life off a path I had expected to the one I'm on now. I've survived. It's not bad. I'm good at what I do. And you know what?"
Chouichi looked at Sasuke. "I would make an absolute shit Clan Head." Chouichi said and it was so matter of fact that Sasuke found himself laughing.
"I would!" Chouichi said. "All that arguing without really arguing and the debates and the dinners and looking after everyone who's sneezing and arranging marriages and dealing with the Nara AND the Yamanaka? Hell no."
"It's a little exhausting." Sasuke admitted.
"A little? Good lord give me a three week protection detail passing through Mist Country any day." Chouichi said.
they sat together for a little longer and Sasuke said, "Did you love my brother?"
"With everything I had." Chouichi replied. "Do you love mine?"
Sasuke laced his fingers together. "With everything I have." He admitted.
"Well that'll have to be enough, won't it?" Chouichi asked. There was quiet for a while longer before Chouichi said, "Sasuke."
"Yeah?"
"When you find the bastard, you make sure you stick him with an extra kunai for me. Okay?"
Sasuke's smile was bloody and wry, and so was Chouichi's.
"I'll make sure of it." He said.
The fireflies took flight and Chouji brought out a new pot of tea.
