Disclaimer: Oh, if only. Masashi Kishimoto-kun doesn't seem to agree with these thoughts, though.

Note: Kinda-sorta just a little AU-ish. It's just… here… I suddenly had it pop into my head, and I decided to write it down before I lost it.

The Things He never Said

Kyuubi Tenshi

None of them had ever known. None of them ever would or could know. His reasons were irrational, even in his own mind. He wanted his little brother to be strong, so he had killed the clan. He wanted to test his own power, so he killed the clan. Those were the two reasons he heard most often from peoples' mouths. How wrong they were! He hadn't wanted to kill his family at all; power had not been the driving factor.

It seemed ridiculous, as he now lay dying at his brother's hand, what his reason had been. A shinobi was to have no emotions, and "love" and "kindness" and "friendship" were merely weaknesses. But he had begun to feel them. Towards his brother, and especially towards a little girl he knew.

Her name was Haruno Sakura. She was cute, and bright, and bubbly; an overly-friendly sort of girl, but one who did not fear him as others did. She was six years younger than himself, and the same age as his brother, but his heart considered her far more than some child that he had met on a dark street in Konoha.

It had been a cold January night, and he was coming back from his first S-rank mission, his ANBU attire covered in blood, his mask broken in half long before, it's pieces held tiredly in his left hand. At two o' clock in the morning, the streets were deserted, but a still small sound could be heard in an alley ahead. Crying. Sobbing.

He had only gone to see what it was, and was surprisingly met with a small child of four or five. She was crying quietly into her knees, huddled in a thread-bare blanket and hidden inside a cardboard box next to the back door of a small shop. Inside, he could just hear the rantings of one crazed by alcohol. He didn't bother to ask her name as her head shot up and looked at him full of wonderment and fear, but he forced a small half-smile just for her and slipped inside. He was too late to save her mother, but the father, had he been cooperative, would've been spared for the Hokage's judgment. But he attempted a swing at the ANBU captain as well, and was swiftly killed for his irrational action. Appearing back outside a moment later, the child crawled out of the box and went to his side, and as he turned to walk out of that dark alley, she tugged on his pants just a bit, causing him to stop and turn his eyes on her once more. That was where it began.

He felt pity.

He felt sorry for her; she was an orphan now, after all, and had no-where to turn to. But she wiped away her tears, rather than crying more, and looked up at him, a little bit of worry creasing her young brow.

"Niichan, where should I go?"

He felt shock.

She was so young, and yet thinking so rationally? She didn't want to know what happened to her parents? He kneeled beside her and ran his fingers through her feathery-light hair.

"Do you have any other relatives?"

She shook her head.

"Any friends?"

Again, a negative. He stared at her softly for a minute, his mind working on a solution.

"What's your name?"

She seemed to startle at the question. Her name? He asked her name? She shook her head sadly, her eyes falling to rest on the two small hands she gripped at her chest.

"I don't know."

He felt sorrow.

True sorrow, not the pity that he had felt before. A child so young with no friends or family, and left without even her own name? What was he to do with her? Unconsciously, his hand raised and stroked her hair, and he noticed she flinched when he touched her. Perhaps it was no wonder she did not inquire about her parents. They had obviously beaten her.

He felt rage.

How dare they? She was a child! A little girl, for heaven's blessed sake! He regretted granting the lowlife that was obviously once her father a swift death. He picked her up and tucked her small form against his chest, taking off with her down the street. A home… one that would keep her and love her, and raise her to be a respectable, strong kunoichi. His report to the Sandaime would have to wait. Her small fingers clutched at his shirt, and she was quiet as he walked with her.

"Sakura."

She glanced up at him. He had suddenly stopped before a small townhouse, neatly kept. She raised her head so her deep beryl eyes could meet his of shadow-black.

He smiled.

"Tell them your name is 'Sakura,' okay?" She smiled brightly at him and nodded quickly as he set her down on the small threshold, rapping smartly on the door. He ran his hands through her hair one last time, and murmured, "If they ask who brought you, just tell them 'Itachi.'"

And then he left, disappearing down the empty street.

Itachi remembered leaving the small orphan at the Haruno residence; only a few months previous, the woman of that house had had a bad miscarriage, and the family had been badly upset. He had known because Haruno Ruri, the wife, was a good friend of his mother's. But from then on, his emotions were harder and harder to suppress.

Each time his mother laughed, he found himself wanting to laugh with her.

Each time his father congratulated him on a job well done, he wanted to smile.

Each time his little brother asked him to help him train, he found it harder and harder to say "no." But he did. A true shinobi has no emotions.

But that last day, the final straw occurred. He saw Sakura again. She was smiling so happily, a little blonde girl walking beside her, both holding tiny wild-flower bouquets in their hands. Somehow, the child that he had saved managed to spot him in all the crowd of that street, and her eyes lit up with such joy the moment they met his. She dashed through the sea of legs, her friend left behind and confused, and came to him immediately, throwing her small arms around his waist, laughing gaily and burying her head into his stomach. And again, she raised those emerald eyes to his, and said those words that caused so much emotion.

"Itachi-niichan! You never gave me a chance to say "Thank you!" she had told him, smiling. "You saved my life. And… you wanna know a secret?"

He had plastered a smile on over his confused face, kneeling down to humor her. She smiled, and put her mouth right next to his ear.

"I love you."

And he loved her, too.

He couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't feel anything! He refused! It would be the death of him! He had to do something, before these things called 'feelings' had any more chance to get any more out-of-hand than they already were. But he hadn't been able to do it. He had massacred his whole clan with an emotionless façade, but inside he had trembled and screamed at himself as each one of them fell, their blood plastering itself all over him, clotting in his hair, staining his clothes, searing its scent into his flesh. And then his little brother had come home. He couldn't allow his brother to feel, to fall to feelings like he was. Couldn't allow him to love; it would kill him. So he told him to hate. Hate, until that was all there was room for. Hate until he could not love.

And kill him, so that he would no longer bear the hatred to himself that he now felt.

After he had disappeared from the Uchiha grounds, he had raced through the town with all speed towards the Haruno residence. He would be unable to continue if the person who had caused all this was still alive.

That meant… he would have to kill her.

And before he knew what he was doing, he was standing over her, kunai in hand and pressed tightly to her throat. She was waking up. Kill her before she wakes up! he begged himself, but instead, he put way the kunai. She opened her eyes to him, sudden confusion entering them. His Sharingan, still burning brightly, gazed full of pain into those beryl eyes just one last time, before he did one last deed- he kissed her. A small, chaste kiss, pressed over her left eye.

"Itachi-nii-" But she was cut off, his bloodline limit erasing all her memories of him, and sending her into a deep sleep.

It was then that he disappeared from Konohagakure completely.

But even now, as the last of his life left him in a crimson flow, his little brother standing over him, he couldn't stop himself from murmuring those last words.

"Love, Sasuke. Do not hate. Love really was the death of me, but it was because I didn't accept it." The younger Uchiha looked at him in sudden shock, and a small smile graced the man's face as his eyes closed for the last time. The Sharingan's memory suppression would soon release…

"Tell Sakura… I'm sorry…"

AN: I lurve this onesie. It's so adorable and angsty. REVIEW!