This fic is crossposted from AO3. Irrelevant author's notes can be found there.

Sasuke felt his mouth go dry. His voice refused to work when he tried speaking, and he faltered unceremoniously.

"With all due respect, Sir, my team has a ninety-nine percent success rate." He should've stopped talking, but some impulse - some stupid impulse - made him continue. "I've only ever lead one ineffective mission."

"One unsuccessful mission," Fugaku said with a frown. Sasuke flinched, which definitely did not help his case. If possible, his father looked even more disappointed, and Sasuke was the inferior, just-tolerated son anyway. He should be used to this by now. "Itachi has a one hundred percent success rate."

Sasuke did not wince. He wouldn't let himself wince. Why wasn't he ever good enough? No matter how hard he tried, no matter how long he worked, he could never seem to catch up to Itachi. He'd never been able to make his father proud to this day, and although his mother hid it better he knew that she was disappointed at how he'd turned out as well. Not enough like Itachi, not talented like Itachi. Sasuke was good but not great, smart but not a genius, handsome but not breathtaking, strong but not untouchable or inviolable. He was above average at best, not remarkable or noteworthy.

"Who would take my place," Sasuke said monotonously, trying (and probably failing) to keep the spite out of his voice.

"Shisui," Fugaku said without missing a beat. Sasuke felt his heart drop. His father had been thinking about this for awhile if he already had a replacement ready. One that had a fighting style so wildly different from his own, at that. That meant that the teams would have to be shuffled around, and Sasuke was sure that if he asked he would find that those had been thought out and perfected as well.

"Shisui is on a team," Sasuke tried anyway. He wouldn't have stayed and argued and stomped on any and all dignity if it had just been him getting kicked out of his position. Unfortunately, it wasn't just that. He was getting kicked out of the clan. "That's his best position and-"

"You are dismissed. You have one hour to gather your possessions and exit clan grounds."

Sasuke really hoped he didn't look like he was going to cry, because he felt like he was going to cry. Trying desperately not to shake and blinking rapidly, he turned around and left the tent.

It didn't take Sasuke long to get all of his things. Six sets of clothes, all but one sealed into a scroll. His weapons were already packed except his sword. He took his old stuffed dino so his family would have no momento of him. He even took the family photo from its frame for good measure. Sasuke picked up a few of the advanced jutsu scrolls and some of the more general ones from the desk. He took blank ones from Itachi's stash and swiped a sealing scroll on his way out. His bag was slung over his shoulder, his weapon pouches were in place, he had money in his wallet, and his sword was hanging from a loop of wire on his back.

Sasuke did not choke up while leaving the gates.

He wandered aimlessly for a while. He didn't run, because what was the rush? At about sunset he decided to buckle down and find some meaning in his life. As such, Sasuke climbed a tree (he would always be a Fire Country shinobi a heart) and mentally listed all the clans that might help him.

He found himself nervously fiddling with the necklace that one Uzumaki Karin had given him a few years ago. It was a little Uchiha fan strung onto a thin silver chain. It came to rest a bit below the level of his collarbone. Although the fan itself didn't hold much meaning to Sasuke anymore, the sentiment would always be there.

Before he realized it Sasuke could feel warm liquid trailing down his cheeks. It took him longer than he would admit to stop crying and pull himself together. He was a shinobi. He used to be a commander. He couldn't cry over trivial things like being kicked out of his clan by his own father with nowhere to go because he could never reach his older brother's level.

He wasn't trying to make himself cry again. In fact, he made his best effort to stop the flow of tears. They came anyway.