A/N: CHASING, YOU WILL LOVE THEM IF IT TAKES A HUNDRED STORIES TO CONVERT YOU.

Because goddammit do I love tragic middle-aged men who make horrible fathers.

J u s t T h e A l c o h o l

Hiashi finished the inch and a half of yellow in his cup in one drink, tilted it back and watched in disappear, before slamming it down on the table and taking a gasp of breath.

Damn Kumogakure, damnit to hell.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Hiashi felt as though they were all staring at him, and maybe it was the alcohol, but it felt like they all knew who he was, knew who he was supposed to be, knew he was doing something wrong. He'd come to a civilian bar on purpose, had put on his normal uniform, but he still felt like everything was watching him falling apart at the seams.

Maybe it was just the alcohol.

"Mind some company?" The slurred male voice made Hiashi start, turning to see a tall, black-haired ninja who seemed to have, like him, changed out of his normal outfit and into basic jounin garb. His cheeks were red, and it was obvious at first glance the man was already drunk out of his mind. Hiashi almost said that he would, and maybe it was just the alcohol, but Fugaku looked possibly worse-off than he was.

The Uchiha slid into the booth seat across from him, stopping for a moment to untangle the shirt sleeve caught on an uneven edge.

"Thanks." Fugaku said quietly, yet another thing to add to the list of out-of-character things he was doing. The man was a high-class diplomat, a councilmember, a strict leader, an even stricter father, and if Hiashi hadn't been all those things and also here at the table right now he wouldn't have believed it of the other.

"You ever wish you could just take something back? Something you've done?" Fugaku asked without even hesitating, his lips hinting at a hysterical smile.

Hiashi didn't answer out loud, but he couldn't help his mind, screaming yes yes yes over and over.

Fugaku glared at the table for a while, his smile falling into a scowl, before he started again. "Ten years old. Ten."

Hiashi nodded. He'd heard the news the day before, the prodigy of the clan, chuunin at ten, jounin any day now, up for youngest Hokage. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but all of a sudden it didn't feel quite like good news.

"And I thought it was a good thing when he graduated the academy at seven. A good thing." Fugaku tapped his fingers against the table, as if he was itching for another drink in his hand. "I caught him this afternoon, in the bathroom, just staring in the mirror with this look on his face. Like he couldn't stand the sight of what he was seeing. Like he could kill himself. That's our job Hyuuga, he's ten."

Hiashi nodded again, there was nothing he could say or think to that, except slight amazement that the man recognized him at all. Finally he just echoed the man, "That's our job."

Hiashi had to look into the glass now, had to catch his reflection, just to feel it again, the loathing. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but he felt like crap.

Damn it Hizashi.

"I heard 'bout your brother. Fucking sorry." Fugaku grumbled, as if abashed somehow, leaning his chin in his hands and his elbows on the table top.

"It's nothing."

Fugaku shook his head. "It's never nothing. Mikoto said that the night before she tried an' off herself."

Hiashi raised his eyebrows, unable to keep from leaning in himself. "Suicide?"

Fugaku nodded solemnly. "When her sister died, back before we got married, even. Made me jealous, like her sister's memory was worth more than I was."

"Was it?" Hiashi asked numbly, the words had triggered an itch in the back of his mind, is your freedom worth more than I am to you?

Fugaku shrugged. "Never found out. But now she's got Sasuke, and he's worth more than her sister ever was."

"She's got Itachi too."

"Nope, Itachi's mine. Sasuke's hers, that's why he turned out so great." Fugaku continued to glare into space through the messy fringe of his black hair.

Hiashi nodded. "That's why Neji turned out so great."

"Neji's gonna hate you."

Hiashi nodded again, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. "He will."

"So will Hinata. She'll hate you too. Like Itachi hates me."

"Itachi doesn't hate you."

Fugaku snorted, finally stared back into Hiashi's eyes with his charcoal ones. "Maybe not. Hinata's too good."

"Itachi's too great."

"What is it with ninja making terrible fathers?" Fugaku asked, leaning further into his arm so his chin almost touched the table.

Hiashi shrugged.

He didn't know.

"Maybe it's the alcohol," Fugaku started, "But I could just kill somebody."

"Or myself."

Fugaku nodded. "Or kill myself."

Minutes piled upon minutes, and slowly the fuzzy sadness began to dissolve into a thumping headache.

"Maybe it's just the alcohol." Hiashi said finally, standing from his seat and leaving a couple bills folded on the table, before walking away from the black-haired man even closer to tears than he was.