Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.


Sakura remembered in exact, minute detail the way she died.

It had been a snowy October night in Iwa, and the wind had picked up, blocking her nose from catching the smells of the icy forest. It was dark, that day, and she remembered the way the cold had set into her bones, how her blood was splattered in unique, globulous patterns across her chest and how she stared up at the sky, her eyes listless and unblinking.

The last thing she had seen had been dark, empty eyes, no hint of a smile on his face.

He had left her to die there in the snow, her blood seeping out into the snow, staining it a horrifying red. Her mission had been to assassinate one of the highest ranking Lords in the Iwa court, a request from the Tsuchikage himself and Tsunade-sama had agreed, knowing that it would strengthen Konoha relations between the illusive Iwagakure Village.

She had slaughtered the entire room full of corrupt officials, ignoring the rising bile on her tongue and the way her hands trembled on her katana blades.

And yet, it had been the missing-nin with the strange, empty black eyes that had killed her, a kunai straight to her chest. She had been foolish, her chakra was low and her genjutsu had faltered for a moment, giving way to show brilliant, dusty pink hair that shone in the moonlight, and, he had caught her.

Sakura had not recognized him—at first, she had thought it was Sasuke, for this shinobi had been pale and surprisingly similar in face to her teammate—but when she saw the lack of sharingan, she knew that it could not possibly be him.

She remembered the exact way the kunai had sliced through her skin, tearing through muscle and bone, splintering a path through her sternum and chest plate, blood immediately seeping through the thick, black thermal sweater she had hastily shoved on that bitter cold morning.

Sakura had choked, and blood streamed in a thin line from her mouth to her chin, saliva following it. She would have had a chance at healing it, her chakra had sputtered in her hands like the dying flame of a fire, but she knew, instantly, that the shinobi had put a chakra-blocking drug on the blade. In a desperate effort to survive, she had yanked the kunai out of her chest, placing a shaking hand to her bleeding sternum and, her chakra seeping away with every movement, she lurched forward and grabbed a hold of his arm.

With one last churning effort, she gritted her teeth and wrenched his arm. He had screamed then, a high-pitched bellow that startled several birds out of their trees and Sakura had grinned, blood staining her perfectly-white teeth as the limb came clean off, the hand and forearm crushed between her fingers.

It had been then that her heart sputtered finally in her chest, her eyes rolling back in her head and she slumped to the ground, the enemy-nin's arm still clutched in her fingers tightly. She felt someone try to pry it out of her grasp and her eyes fluttered open, catching one last sight of those dark, black and empty unfamiliar eyes.

They stayed with her as her body grew colder, the breath finally leaving her in a slow puff of white cloud.

When the shinobi retrieval team had collected her a week later, Naruto's screams echoed throughout the forest and the flaming hot, furious chakra of a tailed beast filled the air.

Miles away, a dark-haired, dark-eyed man clutched at his chest, rubbing at the empty feeling that seemed to envelop him.


She awoke with a scream.

Someone sighed in relief and Sakura blinked blearily, her entire body trembling as she tried to understand her surroundings. She was lying on something warm and wet, and her body felt like wobbly jello. Something came into her vision and she squinted, trying to see past the blurry gray blob of lifeform and see any closer details.

"She's awake—good. I thought for a minute there…"

A shaky sob filled the air and Sakura blinked again, her sight beginning to clear up and she managed to spot that she was on some kind of table. The ceiling was white and instantly, she knew she was in the hospital. The smell of rubbing alcohol, blood and human fluids filled the room and Sakura tried to move in order to see better, when someone picked her up.

She yelped.

"Hush, little one." Someone cooed in her ear. "You're alright now, you're alright. You gave Okaa-chan and I a nasty scare."

Blindly reaching out to grab something, she caught a hold of something soft and feathery. It was then she realized that the person who had picked her up had hands that spanned her entire waist. Blinking rapidly, she finally caught a sight of who was…holding her.

A man was beaming down at her, tears in his dark eyes. His hair, clutched in her pudgy hands, was curly, frizz beginning to appear at his hairline and it looked like he had run through the shiny black strands several times. His eyes were red-rimmed and his mouth was trembling a half-smile on his face as he soothed a thumb over her—now chubby—cheeks and the hair that felt more like peach fuzz.

Sakura felt the urge to pinch herself and maybe scream at the top of her lungs.

Instead, she kept quiet, her eyes wide and tried not to squirm as the man pressed a soft kiss to her temple and turned her over. So that she could face…what Sakura assumed was her mother. If she had been in her—old body? Normal body—her mouth would have dropped open, a gasp would have escaped her lips at the sight of the slumped woman with the tired smile.

Instead she just keened, a low, enthusiastic sound that had her…father…chuckling at her.

"She recognizes her Mother, Hanako."

"Of course she does, Shouta. I gave birth to her."

The woman was absolutely beautiful. Her hair was long and jet black, and while it was mussed, it still looked sleek and shiny, falling past her breasts to rest on her slightly rounded stomach. Her eyes were large and red-rimmed but they were a beautiful glassy onyx that reminded Sakura of the night sky, with even more of a twinkle than the stars.

It was then that Sakura noticed the little clump of swaddled blankets and the pink face that—she assumed—looked much like her own—clutched in the woman's arms.

"What should we call them?" The man asked the woman, still pressing soft, loving kisses to the crown of her head.

A part of Sakura wanted to yank away with a growl, but she realized that if she was truly a child (some part of her was screaming and Sakura made sure that if she woke up tomorrow in the same condition she would allow herself a proper freak out) she would not have the muscle mass or density to properly do that yet.

The woman smiled down at the baby in her arms and soothed a thumb over the crown of her face, taking care not to wake the slumbering babe. "Mikoto."

Something in Sakura's head twitched at the name, a slow sort of dawning realization but it was interrupted by the man's voice.

"What about Hinata for this one? It means sunflower."

The woman wrinkled her nose. "No. How about…Sakura."

Her father—no, not her father, Sakura tried to remember—must have smiled because her mother—not her mother either—beamed up at him tiredly.

"Sakura and Mikoto Uchiha. You will be loved."

Shock filtered through her system and this time, Sakura really did scream.


So! I promise I will update my other stories but I'm kind of on a weird spazz thing where I just...go for things without thinking it through at all.

Anyways, hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading and I hope you tell me your thoughts :)