April, come she will.
When streams are ripe and filled with rain.
Itachi peered through the forest, his sharingan bright, looking for something to occupy himself with. He and Kisame'd been sparring out in the woods for the past few days, and although his partner had opted to go back to the Akatsuki base when it started raining, Itachi stayed behind. He needed a few hours to himself.
That's when he saw her.
A streak of pink, a flash of green, she was everything but subtle. But the heaving of her bleeding chest, the feral wave of chakra circulating around her was certain to deter anything on her path.
Except, of course, one stubborn, suddenly-infatuated Uchiha.
He crept behind her and, before she could turn back, hit her in the back of the head to knock her out. She was his now.
May, she will stay.
Resting in my arms again.
Sakura had adjusted to life as an Akatsuki nicely. With his brother and the Kyuubi dead, she had no attachments to Konoha anymore. She'd been ripe for the taking.
She was a superb fighter, and an invaluable medic. More than once, Itachi woke to find her delicate hands on him, healing some life-threatening injury or another. But there was one thing she'd made certain they knew:
She may be with them now, but she was actually alone.
Itachi made certain she knew one thing, with every soft glance he gave, every reassuring touch, every damned time he found himself standing in between her and some dangerous enemy, and once a soft peck of the lips:
She was his.
June, she'll change her tune.
In restless walks, she'll prowl the night.
Something had been off recently. Ever since Leader had announced that her former teammates were, in fact, alive, she'd been as distant from him as she was in the beginning. Almost every night he'd awake in their bed alone, or with her staring blankly out the window.
Once, he slid the cold covers off his body to inspect the window. And there she was, out in the rain, pacing endlessly. Once in a while she'd look up at the starry sky as if she was asking kami why, oh why, did it have to be like this?
Itachi closed the curtains and tried to go back to sleep.
July, she will fly.
And give no warning to her flight.
The Uchiha sped past the trees, cursing every person he'd ever run into, even himself. She was gone. He'd woken up in the morning to the now-familiar sight of their empty bed and checked the window like always, but she was gone.
And he knew just were she'd went.
Itachi could've sworn he saw a flash of pink as he approached Konoha's decimated ruins.
August, die she must.
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold.
Itachi had given up. On Sakura, on the Akatsuki, even on himself.
There was nothing left to live for, anyway.
He'd found her. Oh, he'd found her, alright. Her flawless neck was at the mercy of his brother's katana, a trail of crimson blood streaming down to her bosom. Her pink hair was short and ragged, and Sasuke's eyes flashed murderously as he looked down at her.
Before Itachi could kill his brother, his brother had killed her.
September, I'll remember…
A love once new, has now grown old.
He silently paced in his new Sound apartment, his hair a tangled mess and his Mangekyo blazing red darting back and forth in an animalistic fashion.
Sasuke, dead. Kyuubi, dead. Akatsuki, dead.
He really was all alone.
He sighed and slumped into his chair, brushing dark strands away from his face and reaching for a picture on the side table.
Sakura, wearing the Akatsuki robe, throwing her head back and smiling, smiling like he never knew she could. And to think it was all because of a sour joke he'd let slip from his mouth.
Itachi put the picture face down. He had a new life now. No need to remember any of his old one, even if it had made him feel happy again.
Emotions were illusion.
A/N: I. Love. ItaSaku. Angst.
I also love this song, which is "April, Come She Will" by Simon and Garfunkel. Go listen to it.
Peace, children.