❝𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥?❞
╰┈➤ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 a girl who has grown up under cold eyes and an absent father learns to love again- and perhaps how to forgive, as well.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐜𝐚𝐧...
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The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.
『AHIKO』
MY BREATH CATCHES IN MY THROAT as I rack my brain for an answer. Why does Father sound so angry? So panicked? Why is he so concerned about a simple nightmare?
"Nothing." I reply calmly, taking a sharp breath to clear my sleep-addled brain. "It was nothing." I pull my hand away from Father and rub at my swollen eyes. But I know it's futile to deny seeing my mother and brother. I had yelled loud enough that he surely heard their names.
"Ahiko."
I swallow as Father stares into my eyes with such intensity that I feel my skin crawl.
"What. Did. You. See."
I shiver at the unusual ferocity in his normally flat voice. It takes me a moment to muster up the courage to open my mouth again.
"Erm." I twiddle my thumbs, sweat beginning to bead at my brow. "I, uh, dreamt of... Mother. And- And-" How do I explain to him that I dreamed of my brother, whom I've since long ago, forgotten the face of? "And... my brother."
For half a second, Father looks horrified. The emotion flitted through his face so fast I could have been imagining it. But I know I didn't.
The gears in my head start spinning and whirring as Father stands up stiffly, the front of his shirt still splotched with dark spots from my tears.
"And today is the first time you've dreamed of them? Saw them?"
"Yes."
The Second Hokage begins pacing, red eyes alight with inexplicable emotion.
"What's wrong? Is there- Did I do something wrong?" I finally muster up the nerve to speak, my foot tapping on the wooden floorboard.
Father's head snaps towards me, hair still mussed from sleep. "No, no. You didn't do anything wrong." He mutters, still obviously deep in thought as he resumes pacing, back and forth, back and forth.
Why is he so agitated? What did I do wrong?
As if he finally makes his mind up about something, he again snaps towards me, but this time he takes my hands in his.
"Listen to me carefully." He breathes, eyes focusing and becoming lucid. "Are you listening?" I nod, heart dropping at his authoritative tone. He squeezes my hands. "You know I love you, right?" My gut squeezes painfully, then does a flip. Why is he telling me this now? What's going on?
I try to pull my hands away, heart dropping a little further. A bad, bad feeling begins settling in the bottom of my stomach. But Father doesn't let go of my hands. His grip is like iron.
