Ummmies. This is re-written and I'm slightl happier with it lol.

Thought I should re-write this and the next chapter before the next TC chapter (although that's coming along okay-ishly- it got lost originally grrrr!)

So yar.

Enjoy.

My Perfect Enemy

"Wake up
And face me
Don't play dead
'Cause maybe
Someday
I'll walk away and say
You fucking disappoint me
Maybe you're better off this way!"

Passive- A Perfect Circe

Chapter One- Nightmare

Blood. There was blood on the ground. Lots of blood, as if an entire body had split open and been left to empty its liquid life into the mushy earth…

But whose blood, whose blood was it?

He didn't know. He couldn't see, couldn't quite make out their features, as it seems.

But why was there… why was there blood on the ground?

He… he didn't know. Why was there blood on the ground?

He looked around, as if his consciousness was clearing, like the Sun through rain clouds, trying to make sense of this foreign place. He noted the landscape, the trees, the grass, the flowers, the sky… the river.

The river. Blood was trickling into the wide river.

Then he looked down, horror flooding his vision, his body, his soul, as his senses suddenly sharpened at the worst possible moment.

He looked down and saw-

Sasuke's eyes snapped open wide and alert to his hot, airless bedroom. Moonlight filtered through the open window, casting contorted shadows on the crisp, white sheet barely covering his naked flesh. Despite the heat, goose pimples tingled his skin.

He stared at the plain, empty ceiling, wide eyed. His hazy mind attempted to make sense of that strange, ambiguous, yet vivid dream.

Blood. All he could recall was crimson, metallic, congealing …

Blood. Blood on a muddy ground, blood tainting the air, blood leaking into a gushing river...

Blood on my hands.

The last of the Uchiha Clan sighed low and heavy, closing his tired eyes for just a moment before sitting up and brushing the sheet away from his torso. The moonlight spilled over his handsome features, his bare chest… and the body resting beside his.

Sasuke's soft gaze lazily fell longingly on the young woman sprawled alongside him. Her pink hair was messy and dishevelled against the starch white pillow, making it seem all the more vibrant than before. Sakura laid on her stomach, spent and beautiful in the encompassing moonlight, giving her an ironically innocent, angelic quality.

His rough hand smoothed the skin along her spine tenderly, his fingertips barely touching her supple skin, and yet she shivered even in that deep, blissful sleep.

Sasuke removed his hand, his eyes gazing at her surprisingly melancholy, pensively... As if she were something distant and unobtainable. Which of course, she wasn't, but he still felt she was. Even when they had made love, just a couple of short hours ago, he still felt as if she was a million miles away, that he was further than she could ever reach. He didn't understand why. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to understand why.

He sighed; breathing out her name so soft it was barely a whisper.

Sakura did not stir.

Sasuke leapt out of bed, rearranging the thin sheet so it covered Sakura's smooth, unbearably tempting back. The air was warm and tantalising against his taught skin, momentarily soothing the bitter coldness that froze him so agonizingly inside.

Quietly, he stepped towards the sliding door, applying just enough measured pressure so it slid open, slow and soundlessly. He slipped through the shoji screens, not bothering to close them behind him.

Inside, it was silent throughout the Uchiha Estate. Ghostly silent.

Sasuke closed his eyes. If he listened intently enough, he could still hear the lingering slithers of conversations and sounds held within the walls, their echoes encased in the shojis screens, and floors and windows and ceiling… as if the house were clinging desperately to those withering memories.

Moonlight spilled through the glass windows along the hallway, giving the ancient floorboards a calm blue hue. The air smelt pure and peaceful, like nighttime air should. The sounds he could hear were the usual night sounds; the cricket's hum, the shouts and taunts from people leaving the local pubs, the occasional howl of a dog in the distance.

He made his way through what would seem a labyrinth of identical corridors, his footsteps light and sure, until Sasuke stopped outside a particular room, a room he had until recently avoided like the plague.

Itachi's old room was as it was all that time ago. Exactly as it was. It was immaculate, just as he always was. The bed hadn't been slept in for years, the pine shelves had collected an appalling layer of musty dust, which was hardly surprising as even in the moonlight Sasuke could see the millions of tiny dust particles floating in and out of the light in an ongoing stream of dull sparkles. Even the hired cleaner didn't go in this room.

Sasuke watched his brother's room, this neglected room, standing in the doorway. Already he could smell his brother, even if it had been nearly fifteen years since that man had inhabited it. This was the last of his brother, what was left in this room. Day by day since Sasuke had come here, the smell, the essence of his brother had grown weaker and weaker. He never went in, even now.

Especially now.

He understood why he couldn't before, and perfectly well understood why he couldn't now. He just refused to believe it. He openly denied it. And nobody expected him of it. Everyone saw it as the correct solution- the end of a sickening nightmare.

But being the last of a once large family like the Uchiha was an unsurprisingly daunting prospect. Although many would say he the last as soon as Itachi had murdered them all, those many years ago…

Sasuke smiled, not a warm smile, but a cold, ironic smile.

If that's true, then why does this feel like a worse nightmare…? It made him sick to think it. To even consider it… but that was not enough to banish it from his thoughts.

Glancing around the familiar room one last time, Uchiha Sasuke turned and headed back to bed.

Three weeks later

It was cold. The weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, and now gale force winds and lashing rain were assaulting the village.

It was on this very day, that a group of three people entered Konohagakure, two of them for the first time in their young lives. The other was a lady in her late fifties, who had been here many years before when she was child nearly as young as the two children she was escorting. For what she had been there for, she couldn't remember.

The weather was inconceivable. No one could understand where these horrendous conditions were coming from; it was as if they'd been conjured right above the village, under the darkness of night.

Rain plummeted down, hitting the surrounding buildings in millions of thunderous echoes. The sky was a harsh greyish-black, and the odd crackle of thunder briefly penetrated the moronic pitter-patter of tumbling raindrops. The flashes of bright lightening shortly followed, making the lamplights flicker as the extra electricity surged through them.

The old woman gripped the wrists of the two children, causing one to grip her hand tight, and the other to frown in protest. They were both dressed in travelling clothes, which consisted of thick black cotton kimono tops and trousers with a black hooded cloak; she didn't really approve of them wearing the same outfits generally, but this wasn't the time to worry about that.

They rushed along the streets, none truly knowing where they were headed. They reached what you might call the High Street, as it seemed. And taking their chances, the lady yanked the two children into a nearby pub. It was busy, and she was worried they'd scamper off if she left them to their own devices, especially the girl.

As they pushed their way to the barman, the children curiously laid eyes on the people of the village, people they were soon to see nearly everyday. No one gave them a second look. But perhaps if they had been aware of their heritage, then maybe they would.

Finally, the lady battled her way to the front, proving she was a force to be reckoned with. To the children this place seemed completely alien. They were not used to the towering bodies, the suffocating heat and loud jaunts and jeers from the people above. It was noisy and hot and they didn't like it one bit. The little girl inched closer to her brother.

"Oi, no brats at the bar," The barman said shortly, glaring venomously at the children.

"Oh, so what should I do with them? Tie them up outside to a lamppost the in pouring rain?" The children's guardian snapped back, her sharp brows furrowing menacingly.

The barman shrugged. "Just get 'em out, love. I got a reputation to keep, most of these people are here to avoid children,"

"They won't be any trouble," She growled, shooting a glare that could easily make a dragon whimper. "I only need directions,"

"Well where do you want to go?"

She told him, and he respectively told her where to go. As they were leaving the pub, the little girl waved to him on the way out.

Despite being given sound instructions, Konohagakure was an awful place to navigate unless you knew it. Not to mention the torrential rain didn't help much.

It was a good twenty odd minutes later when they found their way, halting outside a huge, ominous house. A fan, a fan of white and red was painted across the door. The children stared at it.

"Come on," The woman ushered them onto the porch and they both followed suit, obediently.

They watched her take a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door.

"Coming!" A feminine voice shouted from inside, the voice was muffled, but it sounded kind and cheerful.

The little girl's hand tightened on the lady's hand.

There was a brief click before the door swung open, revealing a tall, pretty, roseate young woman, wearing what the children would soon learn to be "Jounin Clothes". She smiled, her bright eyes glancing at each of them questionably.

"Can I help you?"

"Do you know an "Uchiha Sasuke"?" The children's guardian asked quickly. Her hard eyes narrowed.

The young woman nodded vigorously. "I do, but he's not here at the moment, he shouldn't be long," She paused, as if deliberating what to say next. "Would you like to wait for him in here or come back later?"

"We would like to wait here for him to come back, if it's no inconvenience, of course,"

The woman waved her hand, and stepped to the side, allowing them passage.

"No, no, not at all,"

The three huddled in through the doorway, the children automatically removed their coats and shoes, and the young Kunoichi gasped at their soaking wet hair and clothes, saying she'd find them a towel. She offered one to their carer, but she politely declined.

The three stood silently in the hallway, the boy returned his sister's nervous glances with his own cool, collected ones.

They said thank you as the pretty lady handed them their towels.

"My name is Sakura, by the way," She said offhandedly. "Would you like some tea?"

"My name is Junko, and thank you, but I'm fine." She looked down at the children, first at the girl and then the boy. "This is Miyuki, and this is Haruki,"

Sakura smiled. " It's nice to meet you both, would you like something to eat or drink?"

"No thank you," They murmured in unison. Sakura noted how the girl smiled, and the boy remained impassive.

They all wandered to the reception room and sat down. The rain lashed at the windows and the wind rustled the trees in the garden.

"Disgusting weather, isn't it?" Sakura said, a little strained. She looked over at the woman across the table, taking note of her formidable appearance. Her eyes were sharp and black, black like her wavy, brittle, dull hair. It was obvious the colour was fake; she looked too old to have hair like that. Her skin was tanned and weathered from a relentless life; the wrinkles and blemishes clear for all to see. She was wearing a faded purple kimono with darker purple obi. One time, she must have been beautiful.

"Yes, just dismal, isn't it?"

"Hmm," Sakura agreed, surveying the children, taking in their haunting appearances. She couldn't stop staring at them. Their dark hair, dark eyes, facial features… Her gut feeling was screaming it at her, but she didn't know what to think. "Does Sasuke know you?"

Junko's head whipped to hers. "No,"

"So you don't know him?"

Junko shook her head. The children were watching Sakura, their midnight eyes dazzling in the room's soft light.

"Are they your children?"

"No,"

The little girl smiled. "Junko-San is taking care of us," Her voice was sweet and lyrical, but all the same time very matter-of-fact. "We don't know Uchiha Sasuke either, but our Daddy did, he's-" The boy threw her a warning glare, and she bit her lip in admonition.

Junko chuckled. "Miyuki-Chan is a chatterbox,"

"I see," Sakura chuckled too, staring at the boy curiously. "And Haruki-Chan-" His eyebrow twitched as she added the honorific to his name, "-isn't a chatterbox?"

Haruki frowned, and Junko laughed, as Miyuki pouted and remarked proudly that her brother was far too grumpy and rude to be a chatterbox.

Sakura was laughing too, but it wasn't whole-hearted laughter. She was desperate to ask why they were here, but deemed that to be something rather rude. And so Sakura being Sakura, decided to sit awkwardly until Sasuke arrived home.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. The sound of an opening door and sudden gush of bitter wind proved as much.

"I'm home," He called from the hallway. "We have guests?"

Sakura noticed Miyuki's petite hands grip the table, whilst Haruki sat more rigidly than before. Their hair hid their eyes, but she was sure they were strained wide. Miyuki's were, anyway.

"Yes, welcome home, we're in the Reception Room,"

They all heard him walking towards the room. A tension lying dormant once before now engulfed the room, mainly emanating from the children. It was the type that lingered before you were about to fling yourself into enemy territory, where death or interrogation was sure if you were caught. Miyuki was almost shaking, until Junko noticed and tapped her arm, perhaps a little harder than she should have, making the girl jump, and throwing her head up.

Less than a second later, Sasuke stepped through the threshold. He looked tall and intimidating in his ANBU uniform, his hair dripped wet on the tatami mats. His eyes swivelled to each of the unfamiliar faces, locking with Miyuki's as she stared, fascinated and bewildered into his. Her face quickly turned red and she whipped her head down to the table, looking embarrassed beyond belief.

His breath hitched for a second as she turned away. His gaze rested on the boy, and then the woman.

"Good Afternoon…?" He turned to Sakura enquiringly, but Junko was up before she could get a word in edgeways.

"Uchiha Sasuke?" She asked, suddenly impatient.

He nodded, face blank.

"My name is Junko," She began, purely professionally. "And these children, I have been entrusted with, I believe to be your Nephew and Niece, Uchiha Haruki and Miyuki, you're their only living relative and are therefore their legal guardian, and I am under strict instruction that they are to be placed into your care,"

Sasuke blinked. "Excuse me?"

He felt sick. Sick to the stomach. So sick he could barely reply again when Junko repeated those cruel words.

Sakura was up on her feet within moments.

"But there must be a mistake…?" She stepped beside him and her hand groped for his, casting a worried look as his skin paled frightfully.

Junko scowled, one bony hand reaching into her obi and yanking out two documents; Birth Certificates.

Sakura took them, head spinning with disbelief. Sasuke merely stared at the children, who were either too embarrassed or too terrified to look back at him.

Sakura's stomach sank to the floor. There. It was there right before her in elaborate, professional handwriting:

Father's Name: Uchiha Itachi

She looked for the Doctor's signature, and made a mental note. Seeing as this was a legal binding document, this man must been registered at some hospital or clinic. Otherwise it wouldn't be legal. It was a Fire Country Document, so he must have records somewhere in the country.

She glanced at the other one, noticing the birth date was the same.

"They're twins?"

Eight-years-old.

"Yes, Haruki's a whole three hundred seconds older than Miyuki," Junko spat, clearly annoyed at the fuss they were making. "Anyway, I have a very tight schedule, I must leave soon-"

"What?" Sakura snarled, low and whispered but dangerous. "Do you have any idea whose children they are-"

"I don't care whose children they are. I don't care. That's irrelevant to me. What is relevant is whether those children are safe and in a secure environment, both of which they haven't been in since their Father disappeared four weeks ago. This is where we have been instructed to go, and if and only when you have had as much experience as I have in this line of Work, you say to me they won't benefit from staying with a blood-relative, then and only then I might consider listening to you," She paused, and turned to Sasuke, who was still staring at the identical children. "They will be all right here, won't they?"

He sighed, not looking at her, his stomach threatening to give way.

"How the hell can I refuse them now?"

"I'll be off now, I can see myself out, goodbye children," She didn't pause for their goodbyes. "I'll be checking in a few months,"

"B-but hold on," Sakura raced after her, blindly. "Why weren't we notified by this before you came here?"

"Well, Firstly: the suddenness of their Father's disappearance and the fact they have had no where else to stay." She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, placing her long fingered hand on the doorknob, twisting it so it slipped open. "And Secondly: They're talented, and you know what kind of world we live in." She nodded at Sakura's uniform. "Now their belongings will be arriving shortly; don't worry, they haven't much. Until next time, good day."

And she was gone.

Sakura vowed they'd be receiving a very, very disagreeable letter.

Sasuke didn't bother following Junko out like Sakura did. He didn't see the point. Instead, he moved slowly towards the table, taking a seat directly opposite the children. In all his years as an ANBU and Ninja for that matter, he'd been taught to govern his feelings. Not showing weakness or awkwardness should have been easy. He was damn good at it too. So why was he finding it so hard to behave like a shinobi in front of eight-year-olds?

It took him a little time to realise they were both scrutinising him, like a cat would a mouse.

His eyes looked from one to another, a thump like a drum smashing against his crown. He swallowed, hoping they wouldn't notice. Their resemblance to Itachi was more than striking.

Suddenly, the girl, Miyuki began to tremble, glistening tears welling in her large, pretty eyes. Sasuke was completely taken off guard as she raced around to his side of the table and flung herself into his arms. Her little arms wrapped around his neck possessively, and it took him a moment or so to reciprocate.

"I didn't think you-I thought you-that you were-" she sniffed and coughed and cried into his grey ANBU top, relentlessly. Sasuke marvelled at her little body, that pale, ashen skin, her long, shiny, silky black tresses… her almond-shaped eyes. She pressed her head into his chest again.

His hands didn't know what to do. They were spread open, but held rigid and to move seemed so difficult, too awkward. Then he remembered she wasn't the only child he'd rendered parentless.

Shit, the boy.

Sasuke looked up from Miyuki, only to be startled by the boy, this defiant, impish little boy, was no longer staring at the varnished table. He was the spitting image of Itachi, except his skin was just as pale as Miyuki's. Had his hair been longer and expression not fixed in a blank frown, then he could pass for his sister.

Haruki glared at him, the dark mocking, cynicism radiated from his deep eyes into Sasuke's, somewhat disturbingly. His damp fringe fell into his eyes slightly, framing them, adding to their menacing glower. He observed Sasuke and his sister with no fear. No fear what so ever.

Anger began to swell in the space between them. Sasuke hated the boy's arrogance already. Not to mention he was Itachi's child. Had the boy given a… similar reaction to Miyuki's then maybe there was some hope between them? Unfortunately, Sasuke got the impression that wasn't ever going to happen.

And then, as the boy stood to accompany his sister, a sudden realisation flooded over Sasuke.

He knew. The brat bloody knew.

Sasuke killed his elder brother four weeks ago. He killed their Father four weeks ago.

…

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