Chapter Text
this fic has been beta read
The plane landed in Chicago early in the morning, sunlight shining through the band’s private jet windows to welcome them to a city Sasuke hadn’t visited in seven years.
He had been avoiding coming back for years. The dread and anxiety of the past he’d run away from always looming overhead. The group had never done a stop in Chicago, which always left fans questioning why. It was Sasuke’s hometown, after all. Why wouldn’t the famous lead singer of The Crows visit the place he was born and raised in?
Sasuke sighed as he placed his sunglasses on.
He didn’t want to think about it.
He had spent years convincing his uncle, Madara, to avoid this city, but they’d risen to a point in fame where it was no longer an option. Madara wasn’t putting up with losing money, and Chicago was a place where they could make billions.
It was their last stop on the tour, and they had sold out in minutes so Madara added two more dates.
Sasuke had no choice. He’d also been outvoted by his bandmates.
“Can’t wait to get my hands on a stuffed pizza,” Yahiko, their drummer, sighed happily.
Sasuke grabbed his hoodie and pulled it over his head as they stepped off the jet. He was hungover from last night’s drinking, and his bandmates knew better than to bother him.
A black sedan was waiting for them. The driver greeted them politely and opened the doors.
Sasuke took the seat all the way in the back. He popped his headphones on and tried to sleep during the ride into downtown. They hit morning traffic, so what should’ve been a 30-minute drive turned into an hour. There was construction everywhere, and Sasuke couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped him.
'always fucking under construction'
At least that was one thing Sasuke knew hadn’t changed.
He recognized a few streets once they got off the expressway. Some of them brought back memories he quickly pushed aside.
When they finally made it to the five-star hotel—right in the middle of downtown, Sasuke threw his hoodie off and let himself fall onto the bed.
Penthouse suite. Too big for Sasuke, but perfect for a rockstar. Madara loved keeping up appearances.
Madara.
Uncle Madara Uchiha.
Famous in the early ‘90s and 2000s. A solo rockstar who broke countless records and later retired into the role of CEO at Six Paths, a music company now home to many popular artists.
His uncle was so different from his father, it was hard to believe they were even cousins.
The thought of his father made Sasuke’s eyes shoot open. He hadn’t seen his father in seven years. He hadn’t seen her in seven years.
The last seven years were spent recording songs and music videos, touring, and breaking chart-topping records. Sasuke had managed to make The Crows more famous than Itachi ever did. And even though all of this had been Itachi’s final wish, Sasuke felt like it meant nothing.
He peeled himself off the bed and grabbed his phone, opening Google Maps to see how far he was from his old home. Sasuke wondered if his father still lived there.
He would have texted, but when he left Chicago, he shut his old phone off and never looked back. He never turned it back on. He’d kept the old flip phone but never had the courage to turn it on.
It only took a few minutes for Sasuke to make up his mind. He was pulling his hoodie and sunglasses back on.
A part of him hoped his dad had moved out, just so he wouldn’t have to face him.
Sasuke knew he was taking a risk riding the CTA, but it was like muscle memory. He still remembered how to get home. His disguise wasn’t perfect, but it worked and got him to where he needed without anyone recognizing who he was.
Logan Square
He stood in front of his house. Same brickwork. Same navy blue with white windows and door. The front porch was old, but clearly kept clean.
That was the same front porch where he had his first kiss with her . The same front porch where his family stood to watch fireworks on the Fourth of July. The one they spent countless of Novembers decorating for Christmas.
It made Sasuke’s heart ache.
And the mailbox still had the same last name:
Uchiha
His father still lived here.
And then he heard it, the sound of a lawnmower.
Sasuke opened the front gate, they’d never locked it, and made his way to the backyard.
His father, Fugaku, looked a lot older. Not by much, but enough for Sasuke to see that the years had changed him. The jet-black hair from Sasuke’s memories was fading into white. His face was full of wrinkles, but he looked healthy.
Fugaku finally looked up, wiped his forehead with his arm and then froze.
For a moment, neither of them spoke or moved. Just locked eyes.
Only the lawnmower filled the silence.
And then, finally, Fugaku opened his mouth.
“Sasuke?”
Sasuke swallowed and took off his sunglasses.
“Hey, Dad.”