Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.”

Chapter Text

His father stared at Sasuke like he wasn’t real. Sasuke dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, suddenly feeling like he was sixteen again, caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

The mower sat forgotten. Fugaku couldn’t help but notice how different Sasuke looked. Older. Thinner. Tired. Spent. Like he hadn’t slept in years.

“You look like shit,” Fugaku said flatly, reaching down to shut the mower off.

Sasuke huffed out a nervous laugh. “And you look old.”

Fugaku grabbed the rag hanging off the backyard porch rail and wiped his hands before walking up to his son.

Sasuke braced for a punch, maybe a shove. To be told to leave. Honestly, he deserved it. But instead, he was pulled into a solid, warm hug.

It made him feel like a child again. 

Instinctively, Sasuke lifted his arms to hug his father back, shutting his eyes tight. He had missed him so much.

They stayed like that for a long time. It was like Fugaku knew Sasuke needed this more than he did.

“I didn’t think you’d still live here,” Sasuke finally said when they pulled apart.

“This is home. Your mother loved it here. We raised you and Itachi in this house. I would never leave,” Fugaku replied, making his way up the porch steps.

“You want a drink?” Fugaku asked as he opened the screen door. “You hungry?”

Sasuke nodded and followed. The anxiety that had knotted inside him since arriving was suddenly gone. He hadn’t expected forgiveness but he was grateful for it.

The house smelled the same.

The walls in the kitchen were still painted the bright blue his mother had insisted on, despite Fugaku’s complaints. Mikoto loved blue. And even though Fugaku didn’t, he had painted it for her.

Nothing had changed yet everything had.

New light fixtures. Fresh paint. A mounted TV that, when Fugaku turned it on, was already playing a children’s channel.

Sasuke didn’t notice how quickly his father changed it, didn’t even think to question why it was automatically on that channel.

Fugaku handed him a beer. He took out a Tupperware of curry from the fridge before moving it over onto a pot on the stove.

“Your mom’s favorite,” he said. “Can’t promise it’ll be as good as hers.”

Sasuke noticed how easily Fugaku spoke about Mikoto.

It seemed like his father had come further in his healing journey than Sasuke had. Talking about her and Itachi still broke something inside him.

“You renovated a few things,” Sasuke said, glancing down at the new kitchen floor.

“Your mother had wanted it,” Fugaku replied quietly. “She told me all the projects she had in mind before she passed. I made her a promise, and I kept it.”

That drew a small smile from Sasuke.

His father had loved his mother with everything he had. Sasuke and Itachi had always known it. Fugaku wasn’t physically affectionate, but he showed love in quieter ways. Acts of service. Silent devotion. 

Sasuke used to dream of loving someone like that. And then he met Sakura Haruno, the girl he fell in love with.

But he’d ruined everything.

“I try to keep things the way they left them,” Fugaku said, stirring the pot of curry until it was warm enough to serve Sasuke a bowl of it. 

Fugaku set the bowl in front of his son and handed him a spoon.

“Thanks.”

A long silence followed.

“I was mad at you for a while,” Fugaku admitted as he took the chair across from Sasuke. “Still get upset when I think about how you left. Without even saying goodbye.”

Sasuke winced. “Dad, I’m sorry… I—”

“But I know what grief does to people,” Fugaku said, voice low. “I know it’s not one-size-fits-all. Some people do crazy things to cope. And carrying Itachi’s wishes... that’s not easy.”

He was talking about the letter Itachi had left behind.

Madara had delivered it in person, a few days after the funeral. The letter had changed everything.

Sasuke and Itachi had fallen out before Itachi rose to fame. Fifteen-year-old Sasuke didn’t agree with the way his brother left them behind to chase his dreams.

He broke their mother’s heart and Izumi’s, Itachi’s girlfriend at the time.

Which, now, looking back, was so fucking ironic, because Sasuke had done the exact same thing to his father and to Sakura.

Itachi always invited them to his concerts once they started booking more regularly, but Sasuke never went. His parents did.

The one time Fugaku couldn’t make it, Mikoto went alone. She flew out to see Itachi because concerts were the only way she could see her son now.

They were finally coming back together. Itachi had promised to take a break, to spend time with his family, and make up for lost time.

But the private jet crashed.

Fugaku and Sasuke had no bodies to bury.

The guilt of never speaking to Itachi again ate Sasuke alive until he read a letter Itachi never sent to him while he was away rising to fame. 

I miss you, little brother. I wish we both had done this together. I know this wasn’t your dream but it would have been nice to have you by my side. I think about the future and worry about The Crows. If anything were to happen to me, I only wish you would take over. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do right by me.

They had played together as kids. Itachi taught him guitar and piano. But Sasuke had never dreamed of music.

He wanted to build, just like their dad, who had helped renovate most of their house. Sasuke had wanted to transform places. He used to follow Fugaku around during his home projects, learning from who he knew was the very best at these things.

But Itachi’s final wish had buried that dream.

And Sasuke had let it.

“I missed you, son,” Fugaku said, pulling Sasuke from his thoughts.

“I missed you too.”

Another long pause.

“The curry’s good. But you’re right, it’s not Mom’s,” Sasuke teased.

Fugaku laughed loudly, and Sasuke smiled again.

—

They sat on the back porch as the sun began to set, catching up. Fugaku talked to him about everything he had done while Sasuke was away. He didn’t mention Sasuke’s friends though. He didn’t even mention Sakura, not until Sasuke noticed the garden was blooming.

“Sakura taught me how to garden to keep your mothers flowers alive,” Fugaku explained. “She visits often.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to ask about her, but then Fugaku’s phone rang.

“Speak of the devil,” he muttered, standing. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

Sasuke tried to stay cool, but he couldn’t stop glancing his father’s way.

It was her. 

Sakura’s voice was faint but unmistakable.

“Hey,” Fugaku answered, his tone instantly gentler. “No, it’s okay. I’ll see her this week.”

A pause.

“Yeah, of course. Hey, listen— Sasuke’s here.”

Another pause. Longer.

Sasuke strained to hear her response, but Sakura’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

“No, I didn’t. I promise. Yeah, okay. Thank you. I’ll see you both Monday.”

The call ended. Fugaku came back and sat down beside him.

“She okay?” Sasuke asked, avoiding eye contact.

“She’s just checking in on me.”

But something in his tone felt off. Fugaku had never been a good liar.

“She’s a surgical tech now,” he added quickly. “Works at UIC. Graduated top of her class. Would’ve been first if it weren’t for Shikamaru taking that spot.”

Sasuke felt pride swell in his chest. He always knew she could do it. She was so smart and always worked so hard. 

“She got a job before the ink even dried on her diploma,” Fugaku said. “She’s a hard working mo—woman.”

Sasuke didn’t catch the slip.

He just nodded.

There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask. Had she forgiven him? Was she with someone else? Married?

But he didn’t feel like he had the right to ask.

“I should head out. We’ve got a bunch of interviews booked tomorrow,” Sasuke said a little after the sun had set. His bandmates and manager had filled his phone with texts.

Fugaku nodded as they stood.

“Don’t be a stranger again.”

“I won’t,” Sasuke promised. “Can I use the bathroom real quick?”

“Of course.”

—

Sasuke dried his hands on his pants as he stepped out of the bathroom when he was done. He glanced up at the walls in the hallway.

They were still lined with pictures, most of them hung by his mother.

He paused at one of Mikoto, then one of her and Fugaku on their wedding day. Then came photos of Itachi, of himself, of family vacations.

He followed the trail to the living room, still unchanged, except for a box of children's toys in the corner.

He frowned.

Why would his father have children’s toys?

He was about to investigate when something caught his eye.

A photo.

His father, holding a baby.

It was framed in bright pink.

Sasuke stepped closer, picked it up. The baby was wrapped in a yellow blanket. Only a few days old.

He set it down and found another. The same child, older now. Smiling, with a head full of black hair.

More photos. Different stages of the child’s life. Fugaku holding her lovingly. The child kissed his cheek.

And then—

Sakura.

A photo of Sakura holding the child on her hip. Smiling. Wearing a beautiful purple dress.

A birthday balloon marked with the number 3 floated behind her. A cake on the table. Fugaku on the opposite side of Sakura, grinning.

The child had black eyes. Jet black hair.

She looked like Sakura.

But also—

No.

No, no, no.

Sasuke walked to one of the shelves on the wall and grabbed a baby photo of himself.

He placed them side by side.

No. No.

Footsteps came up behind him. He didn’t turn.

“Whose child is this?”

His father paused for too long.

“Sakura’s.” Fugaku finally answered.

“I know. But who’s the father?”

“That’s not my business to tell,” Fugaku said as he took the photos out of Sasuke’s hands to set them back in their place.

“What do you mean? You’ve got photos of her everywhere. You’ve got a box of toys here.” 

“I babysit,” Fugaku replied flatly.

Sasuke’s jaw clenched. Why was his father not being honest with him?

“How old is she?”

“Sasuke, you’ve been gone a long time,” Fugaku said with a stern look, letting him know he wasn’t going to say anything else, “You don’t have a right to that information.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to argue but the words landed hard. His father had a point. Sasuke didn’t have any right.

He was probably getting ahead of himself. He was probably just overthinking.

Sakura was probably married to another man. He wasn’t the only one with black hair. 

“It’s getting late. You should go, Sasuke.”

Chapter Text

Sasuke spent the rest of the night trying to find information on Sakura. His search history made him look like a crazy stalker. He had typed her name into a Google search, but he kept hitting a dead end.

All her social media platforms were private. Her Facebook, her Instagram, even her LinkedIn. The only thing available publicly were her profile pictures. 

Both Instagram and Facebook had one of her and her daughter.

Her LinkedIn had a graduation photo, but nothing that helped Sasuke figure out what he needed to know.

His mind kept circling back to the birthday picture, trying to convince himself it was nothing. Just an uncanny resemblance. That baby couldn’t be his.

He fell asleep at 3 a.m. and woke up to their manager, Karin, knocking on his hotel door to wake him up for the interview they were scheduled for.

“You look like shit,” Konan, their makeup artist, said as Sasuke sat in her chair.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that,” Sasuke mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Did you not sleep?” she asked, starting to dab foundation on his face.

“No.” Sasuke sighed.

Konan didn’t say anything else. She gave Sasuke space, unlike other people in his life, who would immediately start bombarding him with questions or offer useless advice.

It was one of the reasons Sasuke liked her. He tolerated everyone else in his life. He tolerated his manager, his band members, Madara, and his career. But he liked Konan. She was kind of like the big sister he never had. She reminded him of Izumi.

Konan was one of the few people he trusted in the industry. She had proven her loyalty more than once. So it was easy for Sasuke to open up to her every once in a while.

“Would you be able to help me find someone?” Sasuke asked suddenly, as Konan applied some eyeliner.

“Yeah, sure.” No questions asked. Just an immediate yes.

“Her name’s Sakura Haruno. She’s an… old friend,” Sasuke began cautiously. “I tried finding her online, but everything’s private.”

“Okay.” Konan nodded and closed the gel eyeliner. 

“Thanks, Konan.”

—

Sasuke didn’t know how many more vapid questions he could take. He wished they booked better interviews.

“If I get asked one more time who my type is, I’m gonna blow my brains out,” Nagato groaned as he plopped down on the couch.

“Like, how many times do we have to answer the same damn question about who inspires us…” Deidara rolled his eyes.

“And why the fuck do they always gotta ask our favorite American food?” Sasori hissed, his thick Southern accent still sharp despite how long he’d lived in LA. “Man, I was born in Nashville.”

Konan approached Sasuke, who had settled back into her makeup station. She handed him a makeup wipe.

“Found her.” She gave Sasuke her iPad, and he took it immediately.

“She does have everything private, but some of her friends are public,” she explained as she rounded behind Sasuke to stand over his shoulder so she could reach over to touch the screen. “This is from Ino Yamanaka’s Facebook.” 

The post showed a picture of Ino with a very pregnant Sakura, dated 2010. The two were side by side, the blonde girl’s hand resting on Sakura’s belly.

There were more pictures. 

Pink-themed baby shower decorations, pastel balloons, sugar cookies, and a mountain of gifts. Sakura was glowing in a soft yellow dress, a flower crown resting on her head.

There were several pictures of Sakura with various friends and family. 

Naruto. Hinata. 

So many of their old friends.

His father.

The caption read:

Sakura’s Baby Shower! 💕 Can’t wait to meet you, baby Sarada! You’re already loved so much!

Sasuke felt his heart stop.

Sarada.

That was the name they had picked out, back when they were teenagers in love, planning their future.

“I want four kids,” sixteen year old Sakura had grinned.

“Let’s start with one first,” Sasuke had laughed.

“Okay, fine! But it’s gotta be a girl.”

“We’ll name her Sarada.”

They were so young and naïve. They shouldn’t have been planning kids when they were just kids themselves, but they loved each other so much.

Sasuke had dreamed of building their house.

Dreamed about the perfect proposal for her. 

Their kids.

Their life.

“If my calculations are right, the kid’s probably six?” Konan broke him out of his thoughts. “She works at University of Illinois as a surgical technologist. She went to the same program as her friend, Shikamaru. They work at the same hospital.”

Konan scrolled and showed him a screenshot of Sakura in a graduation cap and gown beside Shikamaru, also in a cap and gown. They were hugging side by side.

Sasuke wondered for a second if they were together, but then Konan kept scrolling and showed him a picture of Shikamaru kissing a blonde haired woman. 

“That’s Temari. Shikamaru’s wife. Works as an ER nurse in the same hospital they work at.”

She was pretty good at this. Sasuke thought about telling to switch careers.

But then Konan tapped a few more times and a picture of Naruto in a black suit lit up on the screen. 

“Naruto Uzumaki graduated from DePaul Law. He’s a lawyer now.”

Sasuke blinked in disbelief. 

Naruto? A lawyer? 

Last he’d heard, his best friend wanted to be a basketball player. How did he end up as a lawyer?

“He’s really popular in Chicago. Has won a few wrongful conviction cases. He married Hinata two years ago. She runs an at-home bakery.”

Konan scrolled again, then paused on a photo of Sakura holding an older girl, definitely around six.

Sakura had shoulder-length hair curled into big waves. She was holding Sarada on her hip. Sarada was smiling brightly, pressing her cheek against her mom’s.

“Looks like Sakura’s a single mom,” Konan said softly. “Naruto made a Mother’s Day post earlier this month and gave shoutouts to his wife and his mom… and Sakura, too.”

The last part of his post was captioned:

And to my best friend, Sakura! A single mom who works hard and has done everything in her power for her daughter. Happy Mother’s Day!

Sasuke stared at the picture, afraid to look away, as if it might disappear.

“Can you send me this one?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Konan took back her iPad and sent the image to his number right away. She glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then set a hand on his shoulder.

“She looks just like you.”

Then she walked away, leaving Sasuke with a terrible ache in his chest.

— 

The weather in May in Chicago changed so much. You could wake up to sunshine, then suddenly it was raining by 3 p.m. But today was rare, blue skies, big white clouds, and a perfect 75 degrees.

Perfect for a picnic with friends at the park. They tried their best to do this often, at least once a month, to catch up and stay in touch.

“Sasuke showed up at Fugaku’s,” Sakura broke the news to her girlfriends. All of them had the same reaction: complete shock.

“Were you there when he did?” Ino asked.

“No, I was out with Sarada running errands. I was going to drop by yesterday, but when I called to say I was out front, he told me Sasuke was there.”

“The Crows have been all over the news for their Chicago concert. I knew he was in town, but I didn’t think he’d be brave enough to show his face around here,” Hinata said with a sigh. She was nursing baby Himawari, a blanket draped over her for privacy.

“How are you, though?” Temari asked gently.

“I’m okay. Just surprised, I guess,” Sakura shrugged, casting a glance at Sarada, who was playing with Boruto, Inoichi, Shikadai, and Chocho. “Like Hinata, I didn’t think he’d ever come back.”

“Did Fugaku tell him?” Karui asked.

“No, Fugaku promised me he wouldn’t and he didn’t. But he called me earlier to say Sasuke saw the pictures and the toy box. There was only so much he could say or do without giving it away. But he thinks Sasuke might have a feeling.”

She kept her gaze on Sarada and felt a pang of sadness when she realized the fathers of all her friends’ kids were there except hers. The guys were so good to her, though. They always made sure to include Sarada so she wouldn’t feel left out.

Naruto, especially, had stepped up. He was her favorite uncle.

Sakura’s eyes welled up with tears when Naruto picked up both Boruto and Sarada in his arms. She quickly wiped them away, apologizing to her friends, but they all immediately rushed to tell her it was okay.

“I’m sorry, girls, I just…” she sniffled, “I feel like I failed Sarada. For not having her father in her life. And now I’m wondering if I made the right choice by not trying harder to let him know he was a father.”

“Oh my god, Sakura, babe, don’t say that,” Ino objected quickly. “You’re an amazing mother. You’ve never failed Sarada.”

The other women chimed in with agreement.

“You tried to contact him so many times! You left countless voicemails. Fugaku and Naruto tried to tell him in person. He pushed you away. He pushed us all away. There was only so much you could do,” Hinata reminded her.

“If he has a feeling Sarada’s his, he’ll do everything he can to meet her,” Temari added. “But at the end of the day, it’s your decision whether or not to let him into her life.”

“We’ve got your back, Sakura,” Karui promised firmly.

—

Fugaku’s evening was interrupted by a sudden banging on his front door. He wasn’t surprised to see his son on the other end.

“She’s mine, isn’t she?” Sasuke demanded when Fugaku answered, pushing past his father and into the living room.

“Hi, son. I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Fugaku said sarcastically as he closed the door behind Sasuke. He’d known his son would eventually put the pieces together. He had always been too smart for his own good.

“You knew this whole time and didn’t tell me?” Sasuke snapped, grabbing the photo of Sakura, Sarada, and Fugaku to shove it in his father’s face. “You knew I had a daughter!”

Fugaku folded his arms across his chest and stared Sasuke down. “Yes.”

Sasuke started pacing, angry and overwhelmed. It had taken a while, but with Konan’s help, he had finally found what he needed to confirm his suspicions. Sometimes being a rich, famous rock star had its perks. It only took a little money to get what he wanted from certain people.

Sarada’s birth records confirmed the timing of Sakura’s pregnancy.

Sarada’s blood type.

They shared the same one.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Sasuke demanded.

“We did tell you!” Fugaku shouted, now visibly frustrated.

Sasuke stopped and looked at him, confused. “What? When?”

“Sakura found out she was pregnant a month after you left. She called you multiple times. Left countless voicemails. Then she gave up. I convinced her to keep trying. I had a feeling you left with Madara the day he came to show us the letter Itachi left, so I contacted him. I asked him to please tell you I had something important to tell you, but you never reached out.”

Sasuke racked his brain, trying to remember. Guilt hit him like a punch when he realized Madara had passed along the message, but he’d been high on the drugs he tried for the first time. He knew then that if he allowed himself to talk to Fugaku, he would never follow through to accomplish Itachi’s dream. He covered his mouth.

“I tried one more time,” Fugaku said, voice tight. “A month before Sakura’s due date, you had your first concert in L.A. I contacted Madara, asked for backstage passes, told him I wanted to see my son. I showed up with Naruto before the show, and you denied us.”

Fugaku walked up to Sasuke and snatched the photo frame out of his hands.

“Then we tried again after but you were drunk. Had a bunch of girls in your trailer. Security told me you didn’t want to see me, that you were busy.”

The realization hit Sasuke hard. He’d been completely gone that day too. He could barely remember it, thought security had said it was Madara trying to talk to him, not his father and his childhood best friend.

“So I made my decision then. Sakura and Sarada were better off without you. Sarada might grow up without a father, but she’d have me and she’d have Naruto to be her father figures,” Fugaku said, gazing at the photo of Sakura and Sarada. “Sakura made me promise never to tell you if you ever showed up again.”

“Unlike you, she stayed. If it weren’t for Sakura showing up every day to check on me, I don’t think I’d still be here. Not only did I lose my wife and my eldest son, I lost my youngest, too. I was alone, Sasuke.” Fugaku snapped at him, “Left alone to grief, but Sakura was here.”

Sasuke could hear the anger, but also the pain. His father wasn’t trying to hurt him. This was just the truth.

“You left us, Sasuke. While you were out there chasing someone else’s dream, getting drunk, showing up in tabloids with random girls, Sakura was here. Studying. Working. Carrying your child. Checking in on me.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was embarrassed. Ashamed.

“The least I could do was help her by taking care of Sarada. She never let me pay for anything unless it was for my granddaughter. She would wake up early to go to class, drop Sarada off either with me or her parents, and then wouldn’t come back until late at night after her shift at the Akimichi Diner.”

Fugaku set the frame down.

“So don’t come in here acting like you’re some kind of victim, demanding to know why we didn’t tell you,” he snapped, pointing a finger at him. “Nobody asked you to take over for Itachi. Nobody told you to give up your dreams to follow his. Itachi died, and you could have let his dreams die with him. I loved your brother, Sasuke, but you didn’t owe him anything.”

Fugaku’s eyes were red with tears. He was angry. He’d forgiven Sasuke, but everything he had held in for years was finally bubbling out.

The words slapped Sasuke across the face. It hurt but it was what he needed to hear.

The truth.

He had taken it upon himself to chase someone else’s dream. Because he felt guilty. Because he felt like he had to make it up to Itachi for all the years he never spoke to him. 

“I know I said grief is different for everyone,” Fugaku continued, his voice quieter now but no less firm, “but you had seven years. You could have shown up. You could have called.”

He walked back over to the front door and opened it, pointing outside.

“Leave.”

“Dad, I’m—”

“Sorry? Yeah, you said that. Now go,” Fugaku said sharply. “I need time. Go back to your hotel. I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

Sasuke walked out like a kicked dog.

Fugaku was about to shut the door but paused.

“And don’t you ever say she’s yours. Because she isn’t. You don’t have any right to that little girl. And you never deserved Sakura.”

Then the front door slammed in his face.

—

Sasuke stared at the message he’d sent his father:

I’m sorry for the way I acted. You’re right. I don’t have any right to her and I never deserved Sakura.

But I want to meet my daughter. I want to right my wrongs.

Please tell Sakura that. Please tell her to give me a chance. 

His father didn’t respond.

Chapter Text

Sakura stared at her phone long after the call with Fugaku ended. The screen had gone dark minutes ago, but her hands still gripped the device tightly.

She stood silently in the kitchen, the sun finally setting. They had returned from their picnic just a few minutes earlier.

The anxiety she felt when she first found out Sasuke had visited Fugaku crept back in.

“He’s figured it out. I’m sorry, Sakura. I should’ve been more careful with the pictures. He just texted me and asked me to tell you that he wants to meet her. I know he’s my son, but Sakura, the choice is up to you. If you don’t want him to meet Sarada, I’ll support your decision.”

Truthfully, she never thought this day would come.

In the first two years after Sarada was born, she did imagine it often.

Sakura had hoped Sasuke would hear the voicemails she left and finally show up, so she tried to prepare for it. But when he never returned and his band started avoiding Chicago entirely, she accepted that Sarada meeting her father would never happen.

But now… here they were.

She let out a loud sigh and set her phone down on the kitchen counter, turning her focus back to preparing hers and Sarada’s lunch bags for the next day. She had work and Sarada, school. 

She didn’t know if she wanted Sasuke to meet Sarada.

She had spent years building a stable life for her daughter. Did she really want someone she no longer knew stepping back in to disrupt that?

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t still so angry with him.

Sasuke had been her first everything.

Her first boyfriend. 

Her first love. 

Her first time. 

And the father of the child she loved more than anything.

They had planned a future together. Sasuke had once told her he’d build her a house for their four kids. That he’d marry her. That he loved her.

And Sakura had believed him.

She knew worse things could happen in life, but at eighteen, pregnant and abandoned by the boy who promised you the world, being heartbroken had felt like the worst thing then.

She tried to understand Sasuke. She really did.

He’d lost his mom and his brother just weeks after graduation. The guilt of being angry at Itachi had consumed him.

Sakura remembered how he cried in her arms.

And then, one morning, he didn’t answer her texts or her calls.

He was gone.

She had been so busy trying to take care of Sasuke, she hadn’t even noticed she’d missed her period in July.

It wasn’t until August that it hit her.

Sakura went into denial. It’s just stress, she had told herself. I’m stressed. That’s why I’m late.

But the bright pink plus sign mocked her a few days later, when she finally got the courage to take a pregnancy test.

She sat on the toilet in Ino’s bathroom with her head in her hands, thinking about the last time she and Sasuke had slept together.

They had always been so careful. Always used protection. And the one time they risked it, she got pregnant.

Sakura wiped her eyes quietly as the memories came flooding back.

She decided she needed time to think about it.

Sasuke didn’t get to just show up and think he could walk back into their lives like it was nothing.

She picked up her phone and texted Fugaku.

9:45 p.m.

Tell him I need time to think.

—

Beep

“It’s Sakura. I know the last voicemail I sent, I said I wasn’t going to bother you anymore but… Sasuke, I’m pregnant. [sob, sob] I took four pregnancy tests. They’re all positive. I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared, Sasuke. Please pick up. Please.”

Beep

“Hey… [sniff] I made an appointment with Planned Parenthood. I haven’t told anyone ‘cause I’m scared. I think… I think this is the right choice. I can’t raise a baby on my own.” 

Beep

“I’m calling you to tell you I couldn’t go through with it. I’m keeping the baby. [loud exhale] I don’t even know if you’re listening to these voicemails, but I still wanted to tell you. Your dad knows. He’s really happy. I haven’t seen him smile like that since... yeah. [pause] Uhm, he said he’s going to build Sarada a crib. Oh… uhm, I don’t know the gender yet, but I think it’s a girl. I hope it’s a girl. I’m naming her Sarada if it is.”

Beep

“Hey, I found out the gender today… [sniff, sniff] It’s a girl. I was r-right. [small laugh] They said everything looks good so far. I’ll be four months tomorrow. Your dad’s so happy it’s a girl. He got the ultrasound framed. He’s so precious. I wish you were here to see him. [pause] Would you be happy that it’s a girl?”

Beep

“I’m five months today. Sarada’s kicking right now. [shuffling, pause… soft thuds.. pause… more shuffling] I don’t know what I thought that I would do… God, I wish you were here so you could feel her. I play your favorite songs. She likes those. [sniff] I wish you were… I wish you were here with us. I saw you on the news. Congratulations on being the new lead singer of The Crows.”

Beep

“I’m six months and have the worst heartburn. My mom says it means she’ll have a head full of hair. My back hurts a lot. Your dad made Sarada a high chair now. [ loud frustrated sigh ] Honestly, Sasuke, I don’t even know why I bother anymore. I don’t know why I keep leaving you these voicemails. It’s pointless. [sarcastic laugh] I saw you got yourself a new girlfriend, by the way. Was it really that easy for you to move on? Did you even love me? God, I’m so fucking pathetic.” 

Beep

“This is the last time I’m going to call and leave a voicemail. I’m giving birth next month. Your dad still thinks he can get through to you, but I’m done, Sasuke. I give up. I can’t and I won’t wait around forever. I can’t take it anymore. If you ever decide to finally pick up the phone and listen to everything I’ve left you, I want you to know that I don’t want you back. Sarada and I will be okay. We don’t need you. I hope you’ve gotten everything you wanted and that it’s never enough. Goodbye, Sasuke.”

You have no new messages.

After the encounter with his father, Sasuke found himself curled in the cold bathtub of his hotel room, his old flip phone pressed to his ear and a bottle of Jack clutched in his other hand.

He had asked his assistant back in L.A. to find the old LG phone he kept hidden in his room. Paid extra to have it shipped overnight.

The Crows had wrapped a photoshoot earlier that day and filmed a short segment for Access Hollywood.

Pretending in front of cameras was exhausting.

Sasuke had never been the smiling, extroverted one, but still, he had to show up. Had to play his part. He was the lead singer. The name. The face. The fallback.

But he didn’t want to do it anymore. He never really had. And now that he knew he had a daughter, now that he’d heard everything he’d missed, Sasuke couldn’t focus on anything else but fixing it.

His father didn’t text until late that night, by which point Sasuke had already started drinking.

Sakura needs time to think, Fugaku had texted. 

Of course she did.

She had every right to say no. Every right to keep him out.

After hearing those voicemails, hearing how hurt she sounded, he wouldn’t blame her if she never let him near Sarada at all.

He sobbed quietly in the tub as he listened to the voicemails over and over again. It pained him to hear Sakura, to know he caused this.

But he wanted it to hurt. 

He needed it to. 

Tormenting himself this way was the least he could to punish himself for what he did to Sakura. 

—

“Does Naruto know he’s trying to meet Sarada?”

They were in a surgery room, setting up for the next case Sakura had to scrub in for. Shikamaru’s case had been canceled, so he had nothing better to do than hang around.

Sakura was already gowned up as she set up her back table.

“No,” she sighed. “I think I’m going to wait until I decide whether or not I want him to meet Sarada before I tell Naruto anything. I’m scared he’ll figure out where Sasuke’s staying and jump him.”

Naruto had been just as angry as everyone else when Sasuke left. Naruto was her best friend too— not as close as he had been to Sasuke then but over the course of seven years, Sakura had slowly taken Sasuke’s place now.

When Fugaku and Naruto returned from L.A. after trying to see Sasuke, Naruto had been furious. He’d sworn up and down that if he ever saw Sasuke in person again, he’d fight him.

Sakura believed him. 

“Are you going to let him?”

“I’m not sure.” She paused. “I’m angry at him, but I know I can’t let my anger drive the decision. It wouldn’t be fair to Sarada. I can’t take that opportunity away from her. But I’m also afraid… that he’ll come into her life, get her hopes up, and then leave again and she’ll be heartbroken.”

She didn’t realize she was rambling until she glanced up and saw Shikamaru watching her with quiet concern.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it,” Shikamaru said as he opened a pack of sterile drapes and dropped them onto her table. Sakura began covering everything on the back table and the mayo stand.

“You could always meet with him first,” he offered. “Lay down ground rules. Tell him he doesn’t get to meet Sarada unless he’s serious about staying in her life and serious about being a father. He has to leave the life he’s in right now and choose to be in Sarada’s. He can’t have both. Make it clear he’s got one chance. Tell him he better not fuck it up.”

Sakura nodded, removing her sterile gown and gloves. They still had a few minutes before anesthesia brought the patient into the OR, and before Dr. Hatake arrived for his case.

“But I gotta say,” Shikamaru continued, “as a father, I think you need to let Sarada meet him. You should talk to her. You don’t want her growing up and finding out you took away that decision from her.”

He was right.

They stepped out of the OR and into the central supply area they called the core. Both of them lowered their masks.

“I hate being an adult and having to make the right choice,” Sakura muttered.

— 

Sasuke’s eyes were wide as he stared at the screen on his phone. His heart was beating so fast it echoed in his ears.

This is Sakura. Your father gave me your number. If you want to meet Sarada, we need to talk first. I’ll be off Thursday and can only do early afternoon. We can meet at your father’s place. Let me know if that works for you.

He read the message again.

And again.

His hands trembled as he gripped the phone tighter, unsure if the tightness in his chest was panic or hope.

Chapter Text

Usually, the days blurred together for Sasuke.

Usually, it was because he was high or drunk.

But ever since Sakura had texted him back, he hadn’t touched a single thing.

He didn’t even try to reschedule with her.

He did have things planned Thursday with The Crows, but Sasuke talked to Karin and had her move everything he and The Crows were scheduled for onto a different day. 

“Dude, you’ve been acting weird since we got here,” Deidara said, frowning. They had just been pulled into a meeting about the last-minute changes. Deidara was their pianist.

“And you’ve been skipping out on everything we try to do together,” Yahiko added, arms crossed.

“Where have you been running off to?” Nagato asked.

Sasuke shot them a sharp glare. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is if you’re changing plans,” Sasori said coolly. “We need to practice Thursday night. We’ve got three concerts back-to-back, dude. We need you here.”

’I don’t want to do this anymore. I never did.’

Sasuke wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs. He wanted to tell them he was done.

If Sakura let him meet Sarada, if she gave him even the smallest chance, he’d already decided: he was leaving The Crows.

He had lived the last seven years for Itachi.

He had made an impulsive, emotionally-driven decision that had him in ruins.

And he was done.

He had a purpose now.

He had friendships to fix.

A daughter he wanted to raise.

And he knew he was being greedy but he wanted to get Sakura back too. 

“I’ve been going to see my dad,” he said flatly.

It wasn’t a lie.

It just wasn’t the whole truth.

They didn’t need to know yet.

Their expressions fell, and Sasuke could tell they felt guilty. They knew what he had sacrificed to be their lead singer. They had been bandmates with Itachi first. And unlike Sasuke, Itachi had let them in, had grown close to them.

Seven years had passed, and Sasuke still kept them at arm’s length.

“Oh, well… you should’ve started with that,” Yahiko mumbled.

“Like I said, none of your business,” Sasuke muttered. “Besides, we can practice Friday morning. It’ll be better for us.” 

Sasuke didn’t say anything else after. He stood up and left. 

Thursday morning found Sasuke shaved, hair cut, and dressed. He hadn’t touched a drink or a pill. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be sober and he wanted to make a good impression with Sakura.

Partly because he wanted to show her he was serious about this.

His priority was Sarada.

But he did still love Sakura.

And he wanted to look good for her.

Half of The Crows’ discography were songs written about her or for her, all by Sasuke. Some were a little more obvious than others. Their most popular song, Cherry, was a dead giveaway.

He stared at himself in the mirror once he’d cleaned up and realized this was the first time in years he didn’t look like shit.

To say Sakura was nervous would’ve been an understatement.

She’d made up scenarios in her head over the years about how she’d handle the situation if Sasuke ever showed up. But imagining it was easier than living it.

She felt like she was eighteen again and on the verge of a panic attack, like when she first found out Sasuke had left and when got a positive pregnancy test.

Fugaku placed a gentle hand on her shoulder when he noticed how she was wringing her hands in her lap.

“Ball’s in your court. You take the shots,” he reassured her.

Sakura gave him a thankful smile and nodded, taking a deep breath in.

Sasuke arrived on the dot at the exact time she told him. He held a bouquet of roses in one hand as he knocked on the front door with the other.

He half expected his father to open it, but it was Sakura who greeted him.

His breath hitched.

She was as beautiful as the day he left her. Her hair was longer now, falling past her shoulders. She looked older, sure, but there were no wrinkles on her face. She’d always taken her skincare seriously, and it showed.

“Hey,” he finally greeted, offering a small smile.

“Sasuke,” she replied coolly, one hand on her hip and the other holding the door open. Her gaze flicked to the flowers in his hand before she stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

Once he was inside the living room, he stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t hold her gaze. The moment her green eyes locked onto his, he looked away.

They used to be filled with love and naivety.

Now they were fierce. Guarded.

“Your father’s in the backyard,” she commented, crossing the living room and into the open dining area.

“Take a seat,” she instructed as she sat down herself.

He followed obediently, choosing the seat across from hers and setting the bouquet of roses off to the side.

“You’re beautiful,” the words slipped out before he could stop them. Nervousness got the better of him.

She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. She gave him a slow once over before sighing. 

“Can’t say the same about you.”

Sasuke let out a loud, genuine laugh, so unexpected, it startled Sakura a little. She sent him a concerned look.

She hadn’t changed much after all. Still sassy. Still ready to give him shit with that smart-ass mouth of hers. He loved it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled quickly when she gave him a blank stare. He cleared his throat and set his hands on the table, suddenly embarrassed.

“Thank you for meeting with me. And for giving me the chance to meet Sarada.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Sakura cut in sharply, folding her hands in front of her. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to let you meet her.”

Sasuke nodded. “Of course.”

“If you truly want to be a part of Sarada’s life, I need you to be a hundred percent in. I’ve worked very hard to give her a stable life and make sure she grows up in the healthiest environment I can provide and not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, too.

“I will not allow you to come into her life if you’re not going to stay in it.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, but Sakura wasn’t done.

“I will not let you come in, try to play dad for a limited time, mean something to her just to abandon her and break her heart in the end.”

The words cut deep.

Because that’s exactly what he did to her.

He abandoned her and shattered her heart into pieces. 

“I need to know that you’re committed to staying in her life and committed to being a father. Not a good one. An amazing, perfect, fucking great father. Everything she’s always deserved.”

Sakura’s voice didn’t waver.

“I don’t mean to give you an ultimatum, but this is my child’s life. So you either step up and be in her life or  you go back to being the lead singer of The Crows and never show your face around here again.”

“If you’re not planning to stay in her life,” Sakura said, her voice sharp, “don’t bother getting her hopes up.”

There was no hesitation, no stuttering. Nothing but pure conviction. A mother protecting her child. 

And he respected that.

Sasuke did not need to think about this. The answer was obvious. He had thought about this.

Over and over.

Every night since he found out.

Every night since he heard those voicemails.

The moment he confirmed Sarada was his, he made his choice.

Not that it took much thought.

Because Sasuke had been building toward leaving The Crows.

“I choose Sarada.”

Chapter Text

“I choose Sarada.”

Sakura’s hardened expression fell for a small moment. Sasuke could tell she was surprised at how quickly he answered.

“Sakura, I know I fucked up.” Sasuke leaned forward on the table. “I made an immature decision years ago, thinking that I had to make Itachi’s dream come true to fix the guilt I felt for leaving things with him on bad terms. I can’t even explain to you why or how I thought that was the correct decision. Honestly, I know no excuse will ever make up for the pain I caused. I hurt you. I hurt my dad. I hurt our friends. And I missed out on six years of Sarada’s life.”

“I’ve lived a life that wasn’t mine, but I’m done. I want to come back home and fix everything. I’ve been wanting to leave The Crows for a long time, but I didn’t have the courage to do it. Until now.”

He looked her straight in the eyes.

“I want to be Sarada’s father, if you’ll let me. I’ll do absolutely anything and everything to prove that I’m serious. I already missed the beginning, I don’t want to miss out on her future.”

Sakura stayed quiet for a moment, still looking at Sasuke like she was trying to find any hint of a lie. When she finally made up her mind that he was telling the truth, she unfolded her hands and rested them on her lap.

“It’s been impossible not to hear about your career,” she began, her voice steady. “So I know about your… relationship with alcohol and drugs.”

“I haven’t had any today. I won’t touch them ever again,” Sasuke rushed to say. 

Sakura gave him a sharp look for interrupting her. Only one a mom had the capacity of giving. He flinched slightly, suddenly feeling like he was five and his mother, Mikoto, was scolding him for breaking her favorite vase. 

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath.

“I can’t take your word on that with your track record,” she said plainly. “I need you to go to therapy and get help for your addiction. You will start your sobriety today. I won’t tell you when but I will require you to get tested. If there’s any trace of any drugs or alcohol in your system, you won’t ever see her again. Do you understand?”

Sasuke nodded. He felt a familiar wave of shame rise in his chest. But he didn’t push back. He had no right to argue. He knew how bad he had gotten, how he allowed himself to spiral by coping with drugs and alcohol. Sasuke had no intention of bringing that mess into Sarada’s life. 

“You can spend time with her,” Sakura continued, “but it has to be chaperoned by either me or your father. You may be her biological father, but you’re still a stranger to her and to all of us.”

Stranger.

God, she might as well have stabbed him in the heart.

“She’s got two more weeks left of school. Monday through Friday. She’s out at 4:30pm. If I’m working, your father picks her up for me. She spends her afternoons here when he picks her up so you can come see her here. I’ll give you her summer schedule. She’s asked me to sign her up for Karate and she enjoys taking classes at Kumon so we’ll work around that.”

“Can I see her today?” Sasuke asked quietly.

“I have to speak to her first,” Sakura answered immediately. “I have to ask her if she wants to see you. Because at the end of it all, the final decision is hers.”

Sasuke nodded again.

“I have three concerts coming up,” he said quietly, “so I won’t be able to see her until next week.”

Sakura pulled out her phone and checked the screen before replying, “That’s fine. We can do next Tuesday. I’m off that day.”

It felt like such a long time to wait, but Sasuke knew he had to follow Sakura’s rules. He forced himself to look on the bright side: at least now he had something to look forward to.

One thing Sakura learned after becoming a mother was that the hardest decisions she ever had to make were often the best ones for Sarada.

Giving Sarada the choice to meet Sasuke was one of them.

Shikamaru had been right. Sakura couldn’t take that away from her.

She didn’t want Sarada to grow up one day and find out her mother had denied her the chance to build a relationship with her father.

Sarada had rushed home after school to feed her pet slug, Katsuya. Sakura still remembered how grossed out she’d been the first time Sarada brought the slug home and begged to keep it.

Sakura had offered to get her a cat instead, maybe even a dog, but Sarada refused. That was when Sakura learned her daughter had a liking for bugs, much to Sakura’s dismay.

Over time, she’d grown used to Katsuya’s slimy presence. Sarada had already started pushing for a tarantula and a snake this year, but Sakura had managed to convince her to wait until she was older.

“Sarada,” Sakura called from the living room, her voice gentle. “I need to talk to you, honey.”

They were living in a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor, just a short walk from Fugaku’s house.

Sarada walked out of her bedroom, already dressed in her pajamas.

“Yes, Mama?”

Sakura patted the space next to her on the couch, and Sarada quickly sat down.

“Do you remember when you asked me about your daddy?”

Sarada nodded. Sakura gently played with her daughter’s hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear.

“And I told you that he had to go so far away that I couldn’t call him because he was on a very special mission?”

Another nod.

Back then, it had been difficult for Sakura to explain the truth to a four-year-old. How do you explain abandonment without lying?

She didn’t want to paint Sasuke as this perfect person because he wasn’t, but she also couldn’t tell her child he’d chosen to leave either.

“Well… Daddy is back from his mission,” Sakura began slowly, carefully gauging Sarada’s reaction. “And he said he really wants to meet you. Do you want to meet him?”

Sakura knew Sarada had always yearned for a father, like the other kids in her class, like Shikadai, like Boruto. She had signed Sarada up for children’s therapy early on, wanting to make sure she had the tools to process that missing piece in a healthy way. Even if Sakura gave her everything else, she couldn’t fulfill the role of a father.

A look of surprise crossed Sarada’s face. Then she sighed.

“I don’t have to go to his concert to meet him, right?”

Sakura blinked, completely stunned. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Mama, I know he’s famous.” Sarada folded her arms across her chest. “It was pretty obvious my dad was Grandpa Fugaku’s son. There are so many pictures are all over grandpa’s house.”

Sakura felt her cheeks flush. Of course. She had a genius for a daughter. Too smart for her own good.

“How long have you known?” Sakura finally asked, embarrassed.

“For a while,” Sarada said with a smug little nod. “I put the dots together. There’s Grandpa Fugaku, Grandma Mikoto, Uncle Itachi… and the second boy in all those pictures that he just called Sasuke had to be my dad.”

Sarada started counting on her fingers.

“And if Sasuke wasn’t my uncle or my cousin… then he had to be my daddy.”

Sakura’s eyes widened in astonishment as Sarada walked her through her thought process.

“I know I wasn’t suppose to,” Sarada began, looking a bit scared to confess, “but I went into the room that Grandpa told me I couldn’t go in one time. It was Sasuke’s room.”

Sakura gave her the signature mom pointed look, folding her own arms in front of her chest.

Sarada looked away, “I saw pictures of you and Sasuke. I found one of you two kissing.” 

Sarada pretended to gag and muttered, “Cooties.”

“Okay, okay,” Sakura laughed, unable to stay upset at Sarada for breaking one of Fugaku’s house rule. She made a mental note to go over that part later.

God, Sakura felt so stupid for not just being honest sooner.

“Do you want to meet him?” she asked again, more gently this time.

“I guess,” Sarada shrugged.

“It won’t be at one of his concerts. I promise.”

“Good,” Sarada said, wrinkling her nose. “’Cause his songs suck.”

“Honey, please don’t say that to him when you meet him, okay?”

Friday Night

Their first sold-out night, and the energy from the fans was loud and heavy. The crowd was screaming, chanting their band’s name as they were levered up onto the stage.

The lights flickered on and the fans went feral.

Sasuke could feel everything.

He was nervous. And that felt strange, because Sasuke never got nervous.

That’s what the drugs and alcohol had done. They numbed him. Without them, everything felt foreign, like this was his first time doing this.

The itch had hit him earlier in the day. A headache had crept in, and the anxiety of not taking anything gnawed at him. But as he sat at the edge of his hotel bed, with his head in his hands, he remembered why he was staying sober.

He had reached out to Konan for help. She was the only one he trusted to hold him accountable. He had updated her on everything with his situation, and within seconds, she had sent back a workout

“It’s stupid how effective it is, but science backs it up. Exercise gives you dopamine hits. Go move your body.”

And so at 7 a.m., Sasuke was on the treadmill, running four miles before hitting a lower body workout. 

She wasn’t wrong.

It was effective, but he knew the feeling wouldn’t last forever.

Now, standing on stage, he looked down at the guitar in his hands and began to play the opening notes of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’

The crowd exploded.

Their cover of Nirvana’s infamous song had launched their early fame.

Sasuke remembered how Madara had forced them to rehearse it to perfection, hours on end without breaks. 

“Load up on guns, bring your friends…”

Sasuke hated performing it every goddamn tour. But it had become tradition. The fans demanded it back on the setlist when they decided to do a few concerts without it.

He didn’t have a say.

“It’s fun to lose and to pretend…”

He used to sing this half-high, letting the pills take over.

His drawl, the chaotic energy, the way he slurred his words, it all became part of the brand.

Fans raved about it on forums.

They thought the mess was intentional.

“She’s over-bored and self-assured…”

But tonight was different.

He wasn’t slurring. He wasn’t draping himself over the mic with glassy eyes and a half-dead mind.

The rage in the lyrics didn’t feel like something he had to act out.

He felt the rage because he was angry at himself and at his mistakes. He was resentful of his fame.

“Oh no, I know a dirty word…”

He was sharp. Focused. Controlled. Angry.

He lifted his gaze, eyes burning with regret and determination.

Just two more nights of this bullshit act and he’d be meeting Sarada and changing his life around.

“Hello, hello, hello, how low?

Hello, hello, hello, how low?

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