THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN BY ME IN DECEMBER 2005 AND UPLOADED TO FFnet ON AN OLD (DEFUNCT) ACCOUNT AT THAT TIME. DELETED 3 or 4 YEARS AGO, I AM NOW UPLOADING IT TO THIS FRESH ACCOUNT. It is unchanged from the way it was 7 years ago.

Explanatory A/N at the end, if required.

DISCLAIMER: Naruto is the creation of Masashi Kishimoto, and I use his creation for my own enjoyment only. I make no profit from it, and if asked by someone with the right to do so, I would remove this fiction from the internet immediately.

A little known fact about Sakura Haruno is that, as a child, her dearest wish had not been a pony, ballet lessons, or the sudden information that she was a princess in disguise. It wasn't anything one would expect to find in the heart of a pretty pink-haired tot, really.

Sakura's fondest desire for many years had been to have an older brother.

And as she got old enough to understand math and the fact that time is linear, she eventually came to the realization that no matter how long she waited, an older brother would never be something she could have. There's always hope to escape the position of middle child, youngest child or only child…but eldest children are forever pegged in their position.

The first time Sakura saw Sasuke Uchiha it was February, and she was nearly seven years old. It wasn't exactly love at first sight.

In retrospect, she wanted to say that she'd noticed his hair first, poking up at the back like the quills of an angry porcupine. Failing that, it would have been romantic to be able to say that it had been his dark eyes that had attracted her attention…so open and round all those years ago, unlike the beautiful sleek shape they had matured into with time and years of suspicion and wariness. Yes, she'd really have liked to be able to look back in her diary and be able to read some childish rapture over Sasuke's handsome appeal. Unfortunately, the first entry she was able to find was definitely going to have to be left out of her biography…at least if she had any intention of passing her story off as a romance.

'Febury 11,' it began.

'I saw a boy today at the park that waz my age. I think hes very spoild and I dint like him. Anyway hiz mum shud brush his hair becos it stiks up.'

All in all, not terrible for a not-quite-seven-year-old. But that was the end of the possibility of love at first sight.

Sometimes she thought she'd even like to just be able to say that she couldn't remember what she had first noticed about him. But she could, and now that she had grown up, she felt guilty. Even guiltier than she felt every time she remembered complaining to him about how annoying parents were. She'd give a lot, to change it.

The first thing she had noticed about Sasuke had been Itachi.

The whole reason she'd looked over at him was because he'd been riding on his brother's back, smiling like he was on a ride to Candyland or something, his little cheek pressed to his brother's back and his tiny hands clasped at the front of the much taller boy's neck. It was a cold winter and there had been a lot of snow, and Sasuke's legs were still very short, too short to wade through two feet of snow to get to the snow-fort in the middle of Konoha's public playground. Itachi, uncomplainingly playing the part of a dutiful older brother, used his longer legs to cart Sasuke over to the desired destination.

Sasuke looked so happy. She hadn't known either of them then, not even their names, but she remembered his smile. The smile that always drove a spike of pain through her chest, a feeling wrought of guilt. Back then, she'd been bitterly jealous of that smile.

Ironic, that a few years later her dearest wish would be to see it again.

She would give a lot to forget.

A little known fact about Sasuke Uchiha is that, as a child, his dearest wish was not for a puppy, a house made of candy, or superpowers beyond those of any other hero. Though in his case, the reason that his dearest wish is little known was not because it was so unusual, but because everyone who could possibly have remembered it was dead.

Almost, that is. Almost everyone.

Sasuke's fondest desire was to be just like his older bother, Itachi, who at 12 was already a member of the Konoha elite. And of course, if it wasn't too much trouble, it'd be great if his father noticed that Sasuke was just like his brother.

He'd have liked to say that his first memory of Sakura was the time she gave him a little bag of cinnamon hearts on Valentine's Day. Hell, he'd even like to claim that his first memory of her was from the day they'd graduated the academy, when she'd been so excited to be put in the same team with him, though that had been a pretty disgusting day. Any day that saw him kissing Naruto was not exactly the stuff of dreams.

But anything would be better than the memory that truly had been his first. He'd give a lot, to change it.

He'd liked Sakura right away. Frankly, she reminded him of candy. He'd seen her one winter long ago, staring across the yard at him with very pink hair and an angry, slightly crumpled-looking little face. He'd wondered why she was sitting alone on that bench. There had been other little girls in a group not far away.

"Nii-san!" he said, in high spirits. There wasn't much better in life than spending time with his idol, even riding on his strong back as Itachi faithfully looked after his little brother's happiness by carrying him over to play with the other children. "Look at that girl! Doesn't she remind you of cotton candy?" Her puffy white coat looked like a marshmallow, but it was her pink hair that really got his attention.

Itachi glanced briefly. "Hn. Just do me a favour, otouto, and don't try to eat her. I'd rather not see how father would deal with some angry mother coming over to demand an explanation for the missing chunk in her daughter."

"Ha ha! Nii-san, you're funny."

He hated that memory. In fact, he had it so far repressed that most of the time that he couldn't remember it. The only time it came back to him was in those dark moments when the house was freezingly silent, after he'd eaten his meal of rice balls alone and washed the dishes alone and gotten his lunch ready for the next day alone and gone to sit in his room alone to listen to the wind and look out the back window at the empty street. Alone. Sometimes something would crawl out of his stomach, into his chest, and choke him. He'd start out by punching, kicking, screaming…raging…but it always ended in shuddering sobs. The rage was so much better…so much warmer.

In too much pain to be hateful, to remember his place as the avenger of the clan, he would remember Sakura's angry little face instead, wanting something so badly, so resentful that he had it. And then the final revelation would come, the one he had buried more deeply than any other. The reason he hated Itachi so much. So much.

It wasn't because he'd taken away Sasuke's warmth. It wasn't because he'd taken away his future, or his dreams. It wasn't even because he'd taken away his aunts and uncles, his cousins, and even his mother and father.

It was because he'd taken away his brother.

Ironic, that his dearest wish as a man was to kill the man who it had been his dearest wish to become, as a boy. Ironic, that the two people he had truly been able to believe loved him were the ones who hurt him the worst. It was funny…if you were a sadist. Sometimes he laughed, and the sound was unpleasant.

He would give a lot to forget.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ABOUT THE STORY: If you did not read it at the top, THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN IN DECEMBER 2005. Seven years ago, right around the time of the time skip in the manga (possibly slightly before it). So the Sasuke and Sakura who are looking back on these memories are about 13. When they think of 'when they were children', they are referring to the age of 6, shortly before turning 7. Just in case you were a bit lost.

AUTHOR'S NOTE GENERAL: Thank you for reading! If you review, thank you in advance for your time and effort, I appreciate it.