Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Kunoichi's Love

When the peace of the day that was once known had departed, shinobi retreated into the night where they lost part of themselves every night and become a true shadow. When mornings became blood and sweat and screams of enemies as well as comrades, kunoichi began to prepare for the evenings.

Because that was where their job begin. Truly began.

The first kunoichi was a courtesan.

Sakura remembered reading it in an old book in the academy library. The book had been so old that she wasn't sure whether the teachers still recalled its existence. That day her reality crashed down. Being a kunoichi wasn't about beating the boy who teased her about her hair; it wasn't about escaping the confines of her room when she'd been grounded.

Being a kunoichi was Life, and Death. Her life was a battle. A battle so secret that no shinobi would truly understand.

Kunoichi was the spy, the lover, the true killer.

…The one moaning his name into the depth of the night…the woman, holding their child at her breast before slipping the knife into his heart.

Tsunade-hime was the first woman who broke out of this cage. She fought her way out of that ugly, sad story and made her legend in the shinobi realm. Dirtying her hands before foe and healing bodies of her subordinates. Tsunade had always been a name that sent men to their knees. And that was her dream since that day, to be fully immerged in the world of pure fighting. The world where blood was blood and hate was nothing personal.

But not everyone was Tsunade-sama.

War was war.

Sacrifices were needed.

And kunoichi were the best sacrifice.

The comb belonging to a childhood memory slipped through her hair one last time before she settled it in her hair as an ornament. And her chosen weapons, hidden in that strategic place between her thighs, were secured. Sakura smiled, a well practiced smile, a geisha's smile, at her image.

A kunoichi's world was an entirely different world of its own, dirty and pure at the same time, fitting neither in the shinobi's world of blood nor the daimyo's world of lust, she thought, taking delicate steps, ones suited to the status of her fabled house.

She made her way out of the room she had occupied for the last two years and servants bowed at her in reverence and in mockery. This was the world of the traditional families, she thought as she slipped into room which he waited for her.

She sat on the futon in the room and waited. Allowed the lustful gaze of the man in the room undress her. She smiled a coy smile, as if pleased with his attention. And she let him have his way with her…like the dutiful mistress she was.

…And then like the dutiful kunoichi she was, she slipped the thin dagger out from between her thighs and into the heart of the man who was a father and had been nothing but kind to her.

'Shinobi had no emotions.' She repeated over and over in her head, knowing full well what lies their world had preached. Because even though there was no love, there was guilt as she moved herself out from beneath the body.

She dressed, the comb back in her hair and made her way out of the room, not sparing a look at the man who stared at the ceiling with a question she wish she could answer in his eyes.

And Sakura ran. She ran her way out of the building than the streets…and she was in a forest. It was peaceful…unlike the morning to come.

Because she had killed the daimyo.

Assignment: Assassination of the Rice country daimyo- Success

When she found herself back in the forest which she remembered being familiar with. It was night again. Morning had passed and night had shaded the world again. And anticipation tortured her weary senses.

She was about to meet the people she knew and loved again…by denying her child's birthright. And somehow, she knew she was no better than the ones who started this horrid affair…sometimes a sacrifice was just as dirty as the rest…

"You're back." A voice commented from amongst the trees. "The comb I gave you, it's still in your hair."

Sakura looked around, alerted to the presence. She pulled a kunai out and glared at her surroundings. And as suddenly as the voice came, he came to her.

His beautiful dark eyes stared at her. And two years ago, she knew she would've been able to return his gaze. But not now, not with what she had become, not with what she had now.

"You are with child." He stated calmly, like a doctor declaring the death of his patient.

"Sasuke, I…" she felt her hands falling onto her abdomen, where a child robbed of a father grew. She stood there before the man she didn't know how to face, shaking in blood and sweat and fear for her baby- the one she had no right to claim for what she'd done to him.

Sasuke's dark eyes flared and looked at her. More calm and more withdrawn than she'd remembered him to be.

"He'll become a fine shinobi." He said.

Sakura nodded mutely.

She knew her mission for the last two years was finally complete and after this night, their lives would be back to what it was before the war, before everything…and anything started. Back to before they were lovers. Because she knew, with a child in her womb, she was no longer suitable.

"I still want you as my wife." He said, looking at her, not with pity or shame but that lukewarm emotion that he hardly show to anyone…anyone besides her two years ago. "My proposal still stands."

And that nearly killed her heart again. Because more than ever, more than she had ever wanted to become a kunoichi, she wanted to reach out to him.

But she can't. Uchiha was a world that she no longer had the privilege to stay in. She knew the shame that she and her child would bring him.

"I can't, Sasuke. The baby…"

She found herself wrapped in the arms that she'd missed. Submerged in a warmth that she longed to experience again. Touched in places where ice had frost to protect.

Sakura stared at the man whom she had only dreamt of since she knew of her conception…

"Your child will be my child. I'm willing to fight Konoha for you and him."

And she leaned in, smiling gently, and listened to the soft mingling of their breaths. She was home.