Chapter Text
Sobriety was a lot harder than Sasuke thought it would be.
Running four miles and lifting weights every time he thought about using wasn’t something he could realistically maintain.
By Sunday morning, Sasuke had signed up for a private therapist, someone Konan said worked exclusively with celebrities. He also enrolled himself in a recovery program that would help with his addiction.
He texted Sakura to let her know and sent screenshots of the confirmation emails he received from both the therapist and the program to show her he was serious about getting clean.
She only responded with an “okay.”
This was expected of him so he knew he didn’t deserve any praise from her for doing the bare minimum.
At least he was self aware.
Sasuke was fixing his IEMS as The Crows prepared to be lifted onto the stage for their last night.
The reviews for their last two concerts were mixed.
Some fans loved the new energy Sasuke was bringing to the stage. They praised his performances, said he was more polished and focused. They called him “professional” and said he looked “alive again.”
But others weren’t so impressed.
That part of the fandom claimed he was being lazy, that he was half-assing the final leg of the tour. They said they missed the chaos, the messy, wild edge that had come to define Sasuke and The Crows.
The upset fans were loud enough for Madara to catch wind of it.
He called right before the show that night.
For as long as Sasuke’s known him, his uncle was always poised, collected, and obsessed with image. Public perception was everything to him.
Reputation. Power. Perfection.
Those were his holy trinity.
Money mattered too, but Madara liked to say that came automatically when all three of those were in check.
His uncle was such a fucking douchebag. And judging by the stories his father would tell Sasuke, he knew Madara had always been that way.
Madara wanted answers. Wanted to know what was going on and if he needed to step in.
Sasuke, not ready to tell him the full truth, gave him a curated version. He dressed it up in the way he knew Madara would like to hear.
“I want to be more professional.”
“I’m tired of being the stereotypical rockstar.”
“This will be good for The Crows’ image.”
Exactly the kind of shit Madara ate up.
Sasuke knew he should’ve just told him he was done. That he was quitting. But something held him back.
It wasn’t fear.
It was the knowledge that Madara would not take his departure from The Crows lightly.
Sasuke walking away now would throw a wrench straight into whatever future Madara had planned.
There was also the legality of it all. Sasuke had signed a contract that enslaved him to the company for six more years. He was going to need help with that too.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
—
“I kept everything the same,” his father said as he opened the door to Sasuke’s childhood bedroom. “I kept it clean, though. I wash the sheets once a month to make sure no dust collects.”
“Thanks,” Sasuke said, stepping into the room.
His father had really kept it the same. It was frozen in time, untouched since the day Sasuke had left.
Fugaku gave him space, closing the door behind him with a quiet, “I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”
Sasuke set his luggage down beside his full-size bed and sat. Compared to the massive, high-rise penthouse he had in LA, this room was small. Tiny, even.
But Sasuke felt more comfortable here.
The penthouse had always been too big, too hollow, too cold. It never felt like his.
He spent the rest of the evening unpacking, rearranging things, making space for his new clothes. He was zipping up one of his bags when he found the old photos he’d kept of him and Sakura from high school. He went through them in silence until his father called him down for dinner.
“The news said The Crows are taking a break,” Fugaku began once they were seated. “But nothing about you leaving.”
Sasuke avoided his gaze. He hadn’t exactly come clean to the rest of the group or to Madara.
Madara already gave him shit just for wanting a break.
Luckily, the other band members were more than fine with it. They’d all been overworked, and each of them welcomed the time off.
Sasori had booked a flight to visit his grandparents.
Deidara couldn’t shut up about his expensive vacation to Turks and Caicos.
Yahiko and Konan, who had been dating for years despite pretending otherwise, were planning an elopement.
And Nagato was heading to Seattle to hike, indulging his not-so-secret passion for the outdoors.
Sasuke didn’t want to ruin their trips. He figured he’d wait for the right time.
“Sasuke…”
He could hear it in his father’s voice, he was about to be scolded.
“I know,” Sasuke said quickly, finally meeting his dad’s eyes. “I know. I just… didn’t want to dump it on them yet. I’ll tell them. I just want to give them time first.”
Fugaku raised a brow and held his gaze. Then he sighed.
“You better do it soon. I wouldn’t test Sakura if I were you.”
“I know.”
There was a brief moment of silence before Sasuke spoke again.
“I want to get Sarada a gift for tomorrow… but I’m not sure what she likes.”
“Extra classes at Kumon,” his father suggested and then chuckled when Sasuke gave him a confused look.
“Kumon?” Sasuke repeated, not sure if he was being serious.
“Sarada is a little different,” Fugaku explained with a smile. “She’s not like other kids her age. While some children dread going to school, she looks forward to it. Her favorite time of the year is going back to school and she loves homework. She’s on the honor roll and reads at a level three grades above her own. Her teachers recommended her skipping a few grades, but Sakura turned it down. Said she wanted Sarada to enjoy her childhood and experience things with kids her own age, which I think was the right decision.”
“She shouldn’t be forced to grow up so quick, but sometimes her current school curriculum isn’t enough for her,” he added. “So Sakura enrolled her in Kumon.”
Sasuke smiled, feeling pride swell in his chest.
“She’s extremely smart, really. But sometimes, too smart,” his father said, cutting into his steak. “She gets this look in her eyes when she wants to be a smart ass but knows she can’t. Just like you used to.”
Sasuke scoffed, pretending to be offended but then cracked a grin. He really was a smart ass as a kid. It got him in trouble a lot.
“She’s a little odd, too.”
Sasuke’s smile faltered into a frown, but his father burst out laughing and quickly shook his head.
“Not in a bad way.” He clarified,”She loves bugs! Just like your mom did. ”
“Bugs?” Sasuke asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes. Insects. And reptiles.” His father listed, “While most kids want cats or dogs or rabbits, Sarada has a pet slug. And now she’s been begging for a pet snake.”
Sasuke could only imagine Sakura’s dread. Sakura was the complete opposite. She hates insects.
“Oh!” Fugaku suddenly perked up. “And she’s picked up the guitar. And the piano.”
“Really?” Sasuke asked, eyes lighting up.
“She’s great, Sasuke. Maybe you can bond with her by giving her a few lessons. It’s been a while since I’ve had time to help her practice.”
Sasuke thought that would be a great idea. He knew what to get her now.
—
Sasuke sat quietly on the living room floor after dinner, flipping through the new photo albums. There were three more now, all filled with pictures taken during the time he hadn’t been here.
Most were of Sarada, with a few sprinkled in of Sakura, his dad, their friends, and distant Uchiha relatives. It was everything he had missed.
It hurt, seeing how life had continued without him. And yet, he knew it was ridiculous to expect anything else. He hadn’t wanted them to wait for him, he’d hoped, even, that they would forget him and move on.
And they had.
But Sasuke didn’t want that anymore.
He wanted his family back. His friends. His life.
God, what a melodramatic man he was.
He picked up one of the oldest albums. This one was full of his parents in their youth.
He paused at a picture of a fifteen-year-old Fugaku and Madara. A guitar was slung over his father’s shoulder, and Madara had a microphone in hand. Fugaku wore a Metallica shirt, Madara a muscle tee with Guns N’ Roses across the front. Both were throwing up the rock and roll sign, tongues out.
Sasuke chuckled.
They looked like they caused a lot of trouble.
“What are you laughing at?” his dad asked as he walked into the living room with a mug of tea.
“Your mullet,” Sasuke grinned.
“It was the look back then, Sasuke,” Fugaku said with a soft laugh.
“I’m glad styles evolve,” Sasuke teased.
“Your mom loved it,” his dad chuckled, his eyes soft with memory.
A quiet pause passed between them.
“Do you ever regret not following Uncle Madara?” Sasuke asked as Fugaku took a seat on the couch across from him.
His father and Madara had been close growing up. They both loved rock and roll and had formed a small band back in middle school, practicing and performing every weekend in Madara’s garage.
Shockingly, they’d built quite a following. They were popular enough to okay for their junior prom and even made it onto the local news.
They played all through high school and into college.
Madara had always been the more enthusiastic one. He booked the gigs, designed the flyers, and rallied fans.
They were a big thing in Chicago.
So it wasn’t a surprise when they got scouted.
Madara had been over the moon. He told Fugaku they’d be the next big thing in rock and roll.
His parents were supportive and would allow Madara to follow his dreams on the condition that he graduate college.
Fugaku had other dreams and his parents were relieved he wasn’t chasing after a music career.
He met Mikoto in his sophomore year of High School and knew right away she was the one. He wanted to study construction trade work, graduate college, marry her, build them a house, and start a family.
A quiet, peaceful life.
That was all Fugaku ever wanted.
The only reason he even joined the band was because Madara was family. And for Fugaku, supporting the people he cared about was important.
He enjoyed it, too, but only as a hobby.
Fugaku would spread himself thin just in order to show up for his cousin, be with Mikoto and make sure he was getting good grades.
It got to a point where Fugaku just couldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t have any more passion left for the band.
When Madara found out Fugaku had different plans for his future, he nearly convinced him to let those plans go. He guilt-tripped him, pushed hard, and painted a glamorous picture of life as a rock star.
Then Mikoto got pregnant and Fugaku made his choice.
It wasn’t a hard decision.
He’d always told Itachi and Sasuke: there was nothing to think about.
Mikoto had been nervous, but he was excited. He promised her he’d take care of her and the baby.
They got married after they had Itachi and seven years later, they had Sasuke.
Madara wasn’t happy about it. But he still went on to be the successful CEO he is now, carrying a rock star legacy from the late 80s and early 90s.
There was one Christmas when he came by for dinner. He already had his eyes set on Itachi, could see how talented his nephew was. But during dinner, he made a careless comment, insinuating Mikoto had gotten pregnant on purpose.
That was the last time he was invited to a family holiday.
Fugaku had been livid. He’d forbidden everyone from ever speaking to Madara again.
Obviously, that didn’t stick.
“I don’t,” Fugaku finally said, his voice steady. “I will never regret choosing the love of my life and my children. Fame isn’t everything. Money isn’t everything.”
“I would have regretted following someone else’s dreams.” He added, sending Sasuke a knowing look
“Yeah…” Sasuke looked back down at the pictures.
He knew his father said that for a reason. Sasuke wished he’d had the backbone to choose correctly,like his father had.
Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.
Too late for all that now.
But he had a second chance.
And he wasn’t going to fuck it up.
Lying in bed that night, Sasuke opened the group chat with the band and typed:
When you guys have some time, we need to talk