Prologue: Uchiha Mikoto
A pile of books is on the table. All have similar characteristics: dull colors, inconspicuous covers. They are the types that don't catch your attention.
Sakura, please read this one first.
Old crumpled paper. Familiar handwriting.
She passes the note. It's become routine. Come home, walk past the stack, and stop. Step back. Step back. Stare at the note. Pick it up. Read.
Today, habit breaks.
Perhaps it is the wind that blows the paper.
And away it goes.
Flutter…Flutter…
She watches, not moving as the white butterfly lands on the floor facedown.
Goodbye butterfly.
Her hands reach out for the first book in the pile.
She passes the note.
Dear diary,
Today, I start a new journal. You may ask why. Well…today, after a long night, I gave birth to my first child.
Truthfully, I really want to squeal. Yes, squeal. I know I promised I wouldn't do that, but…I consider this a special occasion, wouldn't you agree?
So please, excuse my next few moments. Pretend it's Shizune.
(The next four lines are completely covered in scribbles. Through the blank ink, however, Sakura can make out the words, "KYA!" "Cute" and "Muahahahaha".)
I can't even begin to tell you how…terrifyingly amazing it was. At first, all I remember was pain. Do you remember that time when I got that cut in my back? Think of it like that, except much worse and…well, I'm sure I don't want to go through that again anytime soon.
But then—I saw him. He was just so…so…beautiful. Huh, I do sound really cliché, but I'm not really sure how to say it. And then, it's like it hit me suddenly.
I'm a mother.
And that child that my husband is holding…is my son.
It's quite amusing actually. You see, before I knew it, I was crying. Not like those single drops of rain tears. Floods of tears. Like it would never stop. Truthfully, I wouldn't be able to tell you why. Perhaps it was relief? Happiness? Anxiousness?
All I remember was that I vaguely knew someone was patting my back, someone was whispering softly to me, but I didn't wasn't really aware.
But then someone yanked my hair. And when I looked down, can you guess who it was? Someone had put the child into my arms, and when he saw me looking at him through my drenched eyes…he smiled.
That's how he got his name: Itachi. He looked just so mischievous and so weasel-like, that it seemed to fit. Shizune and Fugaku tried to convince me that it wasn't the best name but I stuck to it.
Yes, Itachi is perfect…
Dear Diary,
It's just so lovely watching Itachi sleep. Who would imagine that the little devil could look so angelic?
It's odd though, because I have an urge to just wake him up again…
Dear Diary,
Itachi said his first word today! Can you guess what it is…
Dear Diary,
Itachi met the family today. Family meaning, of course, the Uchiha Clan, since he already met Shizune.
Of course, they didn't really do much other than either politely glance at him and offer a congratulations or just talk to Fugaku. Yes, I know I'm an outsider. I know that I don't come from some prominent clan. Still, I'd probably be worse off if I married into some other clan like the Hyuuga…
Dear Diary…
Dear Diary…
Sakura closes the book and sets it down on her bedside table.
Click.
The lights are off. Her eyes are open.
She stares at the opposing wall, thoughts passing through without being processed. Just words. Just words.
She does not read again for another week. However, her teammates have comment on how she seems more alive. Is she moving on…?
She sits on the bed and picks up the book. Open. Flip.
(The page is crumpled, the way paper changes when it is wet.)
Dear Diary,
I'm crying, and I don't know why. I only went away for a few hours, but when I came home, all I heard was Itachi crying. Fugaku wasn't home, and he was alone.
I…I don't know how to describe it. I just suddenly realized…realized how scared I am of motherhood. How could I have been so careless? I shouldn't have left Itachi at home! I should have known that Fugaku would be busy with something! I should make sure that I'm always by his side…
Am I going to be a bad mother? I don't know why, but I just feel so heavy…
Dear Diary,
Today, I have handed in my resignation from the ANBU ranks. My heart is still beating fast, and I can't believe it, but I guess this is motherhood, right? Fugaku should be able to take care of us…
Dear Diary…
Dear Diary…
Dear Diary,
Forgive me for not writing for a long while. Can you believe it? It's already been two years since Itachi was born, yet I can still remember his birth like it was yesterday.
Maah, it's so adorable the way he's so shy! Whenever he's around others, he's so quiet, but when he's with me, it's like a completely different person. To tell the truth, it feels kind of special to know that I'm the only he opens up to…
Dear Diary…
…Itachi…Itachi…
Dear Diary…
Itachi today…
Dear Diary…
…Did you know? …Itachi…
Dear Diary…
(As she reads, she distantly notices that every diary entry has mentioned Itachi.)
Dear Diary…
Dear Diary…
(This page is different. It does not start with 'Dear Diary')
Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgi—
The page is ripped.
She has dreamed…she is awake. What did she dream about? Was it importa—Tears.
Tears…?
Leather. Leather in her hand. A book. Open. Page: Forgi—
She looks blankly. And flips it.
Blank.
Flip. Blank.
Flip.
Flip.
Flip.
Flip.
Flip.
Fli—stop. Words.
Itachi…I'm sorry. Please, forgive your poor mother.
The page is wet with tears. Mikoto's…or Sakura's?
She does not sleep. She does not wake.
She stays her bed. Statue.
Team 8 can wait. Eating can wait. Thinking can wait.
Living can wait.
Words.
Just…words.
The rest is blank. Completely blank. Save for one.
The last page.
I am a terrible a mother. I realize that now. I have done the worst thing possible—I have betrayed my son.
Itachi and Fugaku were having a fight again, about some silly thing like upholding the Uchiha family. And then—He slapped him.
It…it sounds really small now doesn't it? Just a small thing…If only…
After Fugaku left the room, it was just Itachi and I. I rushed over to his side, going to heal his cheek when he looked at me. And those eyes…they were filled with such hate…and I realized…
…I should have protected him. What kind of mother can't protect her own child? I…I'm such a failure, really…
And then after he stared at me, he just looked down and walked away, like he had rejected me as his mother.
The next day, Fugaku muttered an apology to Itachi but…it wasn't the same. Every time I look at him, he just looks away, his eyes black with hate. I try to talk to him; he pushes me away.
I suppose I deserve this…and now I pay the consequences. Still, I would do anything…anything to get my son back.
Uchiha Mikoto
She flips the page, expecting more and tries to read on when she realizes…
…She holds a closed book in her hand.
"Hokage-sama."
He looks at her with blank eyes. What would they look like when angry?
"What business do you have with me?" he asks of her.
Taking out the book from behind her back, she places it on the desk in front of her. The man's eyes follow it before flicking them back to her.
"What is this?"
She stares steadfastly back. A voice echoes in her head.
Back straight…Chin tucked in, right there we go…Face relaxed, slight smile on your face…there! Now you're on your way to becoming a true lady, Sakura-chan!
Habit demands she listen.
"It's a diary, several of the entries pertaining to you."
He's still uninterested.
"And who does this diary belong to?"
"Mikoto. Uchiha Mikoto."
Time. Stops.
His eyes are riveted to the book. Sakura can only hope she's done the right thing.
Now, to bow, you can do a formal bow, bending low with your head down. However, I prefer doing a slight head tilt, as it makes a girl look much more sophisticated…Here, try!
She obeys, her head nodding as she dismisses herself.
"Excuse me."
She leaves the room and closes the door the slowly.
The last thing she sees in the room is Uchiha Itachi, still caught in a chasm of time.
AN: Huhuhuhu...Watch me attempt angst. Don't worry...it'll be a happy story...(not)...
Anyway, this shall be a four-shot! One down, three to go!