colourless-redemption:

»Sasuke frowned and pressed his lips tightly together, he could not understand the difficulties his son was having. The raven had always been a genius, a genius, who figured out everything by himself, if he had not managed to do something correctly, he had tried to find other ways to use the jutsu, or he would have trained ‘till his body gave in. 

Sometimes the raven looked at his Honoou and did not see a single thing that reminded him of himself, all he saw was Hinata. Honoou had his black hair, his pale skin, his handsome face, he was thoroughly Uchiha when it came to his outer appearance but his personality? 

Hinata’s forgiving and peaceful nature, her self control and ambition, her love, her people skills, her innocence. Hinata, Hinata, Hinata. There was no place for Uchiha Sasuke, the traitor.

“Let’s try something simpler..” the Uchiha stated and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m going to lend you some of my chakra. Don’t reject me.”

Honoou bit his lip, looking away, disappointed with himself. He sensed the sudden change of Sasuke’s attitude towards the younger kin. It was only a split second, but as irritatingly perceptive as he was oftentimes naive, Honoou can sense the man’s growing impatience with the child, who was slowly shrinking under the weight of his father’s hands on his shoulders, along with his father’s expectations, the clans’ pressures, and his inability to be anything better than himself.

‘ I’m only a kid. ’ He liked to tell himself that. But he was an Uchiha, and that name carried more burden than any weight anyone can place on him.

He shrugged, trying to get away from his father’s grip at first because he was still very intimidated by him, but then resigned and nodded, knowing how difficult that would be for the child and for the father. Honoou strangely can’t accept anyone’s chakra. It was why he recovered very slowly when he got injured—even his pink-haired aunt can’t use her healing jutsu on him since his channel kept on rejecting it, as if it was a virus.

His mother was the only one who had penetrated his chakra defenses, and even then she had done this when Honoou was barely concious, vulernable, weak.

He straightened his back and inhaled deeply, trusting his father, trusting himself to let his father help him. “Okay. I’ll try.”

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