Hello! This is my first Naruto fic (first Fanfiction ever, really), so I hope you enjoy it! Story starts midway through the final Sasuke-Itachi battle (Anime episodes: 134-143, Manga chapters: 384-412) and there will be spoilers for future episodes throughout.

Have a good read!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

~ More Than Meets The Eye ~

Life…

Death…

His younger brother lunged at him once again. The crackling flares of his Chidori illuminated the depths of hatred behind the boy's blood-red eyes. Another futile blink to clear his vision and he was dodging - a delayed defence in frail hopes to draw his brother's face just a little closer to his line of sight. Time came to a standstill as he squinted in his efforts to see his otouto's features. It seemed that, even up close, his eyes were unable to sharpen the matured lines of his face. He welcomed the flashback of the first time he'd laid eyes on him; a tiny bundle of helpless life - pure, raw innocence.

Life…

His otouto had been his hope - the one who'd given him strength when all else seemed lost. His need to protect Sasuke's defenceless life had entirely overpowered Itachi's perplexity over his own questionable existence.

He didn't need perfect sight to acknowledge that his brother had grown – in more ways than just physically. He watched as frustration surpassed the fury in Sasuke's eyes and let his brother swing his signature move again, allowing him another chance at close combat while seeking to gratify his own desire to capture an image of the grown boy in front of him.

As foolish as it was with his life so close to ending, he had an inexplicable urge to see his brother clearly one last time - to feel proud of him as an older brother would, if nothing but for having become a strong young adult. Indeed, he couldn't deny that his brother had grown strong – so very strong – and he was proud of the determination Sasuke had shown all these years, despite Itachi's disapproval of the ways he'd sought said strength. And now, finally, Itachi was more than willing to accept death at his hands.

In a lapse of self-control, he doubled over. Fluid dribbled from his lips as heaving lungs expelled crimson into awaiting hands.

Truthfully it was quite ironic, and if he were a different man, he may have laughed out loud at the sheer mockery. Itachi had found reason to keep living after the birth of his brother and had ensured Sasuke's survival through the massacre - only to orchestrate his own demise at the hands of the very same brother. He was only too happy that this flawed cycle would meet its end at long last.

Death…

It came as no surprise that he didn't fear the impending end to his life. He felt only acceptance and - funny enough - peace as the deadly intent in his brother's attacks intensified. He let his mind wander to better times – not so much for himself, but for Sasuke - when the little boy had regarded his niisan with nothing short of admiration and utmost loyalty, so oblivious to the ways of a cruel clan. For the first time in a long time, he found himself wishing there'd been another way - another life worthy of his loving little brother. Kami knew Sasuke hadn't deserved any of this.

Fooling Sasuke had been all too easy, to pretend to seek his eyes for himself. He hoped it would push his otouto to speed things along. The added damage to his body with the strain of the fight only amplified his pain, intensifying his desire to just succumb to darkness already. At this rate, his minimal efforts to block Sasuke's attacks as well as quickly depleting his chakra reserves would surely ensure that his body shut down at the end of this battle.

He felt only satisfaction as his Susanoo tore away at the snake sannin that had etched itself onto his precious brother. His body faltered, and a sense of relief washed over him. This was it - he could feel it.

He began his final steps toward his brother, kept from dropping to his knees by sheer willpower. Feebly, he wished for rain - just in case his body betrayed him in its final moments and let stray tears fall. The boy stood frozen and staring at him. Itachi's hand rose.

A smile tugged at his lips as he prepared to say his final goodbyes to his brother.

Sasuke…

Sorry Sasuke, maybe next time.

Not this time, Sasuke, maybe some other time.

Itachi's fingers tapped the boy's forehead. He was too weak to take note of his brother's reaction.

"Sorry, Sasuke… This is it." He smiled as darkness closed in around him. His consciousness slipped away, granting him his long-awaited peace.

I love you, my dear little brother.

Sasuke remained entirely paralyzed as he watched his brother stumble, fall, and rest unmoving.

Time stood still for a brief moment that, to him, felt like eternity.

...And then came waves of tormenting disbelief. His pounding heart was the only indication that this was indeed reality. His body spasmed, air burst from his lungs in short, sporadic spurts, each breath caught in his throat. And finally he took note of the damp trails that coated his face. Coherency was a distant concept, however, and he could only detachedly wonder the implications of the wet trails. Soon enough – within seconds, minutes, or hours – fresh streams followed, and absently he registered that it was raining.

Rain…

It made him restless. The pestering drops pounded his skin, adding to his cause of suffering. His heightened senses grew uneasy with the continuous assault.

A flood of exhaustion slammed into him, draining the last of his energy reserves as the strain of battle caught up to his body. He could do little more than grunt as he fell, sprawling beside his brother's dead body. His mind reeled, unable to process the words "dead" and "his brother" in the same sentence, before conscious thought hit a blank and he remembered no more.

There was a shift in the surroundings just as awareness was lost to the younger Uchiha. A figure materialized, seemingly out of nothing, in the eerily silent clearing. The man, clad in a cloak and sporting an orange mask that hid all but his right eye, absorbed the sight that greeted him with detached interest. He took assured steps until he stood over the elder brother, taking a moment to look down at the fallen Uchiha with mild curiosity. Swiftly, he reached for the dead body, disappeared, and reemerged in the darkness before laying the body to rest on the stone cold ground. He had only minutes if he wished to delay a permanent death. He performed the jutsu and placed his hand on the Uchiha's chest. A hesitant moment followed before a deep hum broke the silence, originating from the still heart. It ended with an almost abrupt, faint clenching of the organ. A few seconds, and it repeated.

The man retracted, somewhat satisfied yet still unhappy with the result. The heart was beating, but it was insufficient – too slow and too weak. At this rate, any minor disturbance was bound to lead to its irreversible shutdown.

Damn Itachi…

He surveyed the still figure, recalling the countless occasions this Uchiha had defied him and caused more problems and headaches than he was worth. It seemed that, once again, he'd been deceived by the genius.

Itachi had hidden the severity of his illness. This meant, of course, that the jutsu was inadequate.

He let out a growl of annoyance, barely refraining from reversing the jutsu and leaving him for dead. His single eye narrowed. He needed Itachi's body stable enough to be able to extract his memories - or else the body would resign long before he'd had a chance to gather the information he so strongly desired.

Taking a calming breath, he dismissed his anger. He was running out of time. He had to tend to the younger Uchiha before Konoha reached their precious missing-nin.

The ensuing seconds saw the man reappear by the said boy's side, eyeing the rain drenched figure amidst fumes from smouldering flames. Again he vanished from view, this time with the younger brother.

She stood beside her teammate as they faced the aching, inevitable truth yet again.

Sasuke. Gone. As always, gone. Slipped through their fingers like smoke.

A mournful silence had settled over the remains of the Uchiha hideout, disturbed solely by a wailing wind and the patters of rain. It was oddly soothing - even welcoming - as though the skies were weeping for their pain. She clenched her numb fingers into fists, willing herself to be strong. She'd vowed to be Naruto's rock the next time this happened; unwavering and reliable - someone he could lean on. He'd gone to such great lengths for her when it came to their third teammate. She had to be there for him this time around. After all, he was hurting just as much as her, if not more.

Gritting her teeth, she ignored the chilling cold that seeped through her drenched clothes. Her hair stuck to her neck, to her face, but she paid it no heed. A shaky breath made its way past her lips as she risked a glance at her teammate. Trembling fingers reached and seized his hand before squeezing to a painful degree, relaying a meaning no word ever could. And as if on cue, their sensei's voice rang through the clearing.

"We're not giving up." His gaze flickered between his two remaining students. "Not yet."

The despondent gleam in his eye betrayed the confidence in Kakashi's voice. She regarded him grimly, watching his attempts to shove his emotions beneath the flimsy mask he always donned - both literally and figuratively - as he faced the members of Team 8, Sai, Yamato, and his old students.

"We will search for Sasuke until no traces remain - no matter how long it takes."

Naruto returned her firm grip, seemingly drawing strength from her frozen fingers. His hand felt so warm around hers that she couldn't help but feel gratified. She turned her gaze to the boy she'd come to call her brother. His face had hardened with resolve; his untiring determination never ceased to take her breath away. She realized idly that despite her best efforts, he would remain as their main source of strength during times like this, simply because that's who Naruto was. Taking a deep breath, she replaced her anguish with equal parts determination and gave a single nod. It was time to focus on the task at hand.

The man considered the half-dead Uchiha Itachi before him with what would seem as utter indifference. In truth, however, his displeasure was barely under restraint. Unfortunately, there were no changes to his weak heartbeat. It seemed that a slight change in strategy was necessary if he wished to succeed in this phase of his plans. He'd been so patient with the Uchiha, surely a new course of action was a possibility at this time.

He had to admire the Uchiha prodigy - he'd planned everything on his side remarkably well over the years. Itachi had known precisely how to drive his brother's quenching thirst for revenge, and he'd delivered his acts flawlessly - and as reward, he'd finally been granted his long-awaited demise at his idiotic brother's hands.

'How… noble.' His face twisted in disdain, conveying his real thoughts over such heroics.

The genius would have been successful too. Unfortunately for him, he'd had to put a stop to it.

For the longest time, he'd sought a solution to his problem that didn't involve Uchiha Itachi. His death would have worked to his advantage, sparing him the effort of dealing with the man himself. After all, there was no denying that Itachi was exceedingly powerful and could very well pose a dangerous threat to his plans – even in his ill state; although, now having witnessed its severity, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd have stood a chance at defeating Itachi himself without having to leave it to Sasuke for all this time.

Uchiha Sasuke. How predictable.

His conversation with the boy had gone quite as expected, minus the little surprise Itachi had left for him. Sasuke had denied the truth, of course. He supposed it must have been difficult to swallow, having reality as you knew it collapse around you, with everything you ever believed to be true about your ruthless, murderer of a brother challenged with one little chat. It'd required some convincing on his part, but the boy had finally come around. He simply needed time, maybe a slight push in the right direction, and Sasuke would be right where he wanted him. It was a shame he couldn't provide the boy with Itachi's eyes just yet, but the time for that would surely come once he finished his business with the elder Uchiha.

It seemed that he'd picked one of the more tedious strategies in his quest to attain what he'd been after since even before the massacre. The answers he needed were in that brilliant mind of his - all he had to do was stabilize the body long enough for it to withstand the damaging assault of his Sharingan. He couldn't afford to have him die midway through. After he was through with the man, Itachi was free to die as he wished. In fact, he'd be pleased to offer his own services to get the job done.

He let his mind wander, weighing the options available to him. He needed a medic-nin, that much was clear; however, he had no time to waste with inadequate skill. No - he needed someone who was capable, efficient.

Tsunade was, of course, the very best at medical ninjutsu. But it would be more than problematic to attempt to abduct the Hokage. The next best person would have to do.

Really, the perfect candidate was right under his nose. In fact, she had been, quite literally, just prior to the end of the Uchiha brothers' final battle.

He knew little about Haruno Sakura. She was the third member of Kakashi's former team, alongside Sasuke and the Kyuubi vessel, and was the Godaime's apprentice. She'd been brought to his attention when she'd helped defeat Sasori. Despite this, he didn't expect much trouble from her.

Fortunately, she was currently nowhere near the safe haven of her village. It would be all too easy to get to her.

Sparing one last glance at the motionless body, he slowly vanished, taking with him the sole source of light in the room: the bright, crimson gleam of a Sharingan.

A tentative sigh escaped her lips as she lowered herself to a crouch on the balls of her feet. A kunai twirled mindlessly around her index finger. She was growing more restless with every passing second - every second that they came away empty-handed.

They'd just finished setting up camp for a few hours of much-needed rest. She knew she ought to feel exhausted after their near non-stop search for their missing teammate, but it seemed as though her body was on an endless supply of adrenaline. It had now been four days. She'd barely gotten six hours of less-than-adequate sleep since the start of their search, and now observing her agitated friend as he paced along the length of the clearing, she was positive he'd gotten close to none.

The rest of their group looked visibly drained. Hinata had succumbed to sleep the instant her head had grazed Shino's shoulder. Said boy sat against a tree, eyes shielded by glasses in a most familiar sight. Sai lounged on a branch with his customary notebook draped casually over his face, and Yamato sat cross-legged by the fire, gaze lost to the flames that lapped at uncharred wood from his jutsu. Kakashi, Kiba, and Akamaru were the sole absentees yet to return from their latest patrol to identify what little trace remained of Sasuke.

Lost in her thoughts, she was startled to find her teammate crouching before her. He caught her gaze with solemn eyes that tugged at her heart. It was an alien expression for his features, and she found herself strongly disliking the sight. Unheeding fingers reached and intercepted the twirling kunai, removing it from her grasp. He inspected the weapon idly, drawing a clean line of blood when it grazed his skin.

"You'd think it would get easier to say this but," he turned his head, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Sakura-chan."

Sakura observed his side profile, noting the tense jaw, downturned lips, and the crease over his left eyebrow. She reached for his hand and held his bleeding finger between two of her own before gently rubbing over the healed skin to wipe the maroon droplets.

"You should know better than to keep apologizing to me, ne Naruto?" Her playful lilt did nothing to hide the earnest meaning behind her words. He really should have known better after all these years. They'd had this conversation a countless number of times - and not unlike those times, he simply wouldn't stop apologizing, and naturally, she wouldn't cease asking him to stop.

She sighed, and the simple act helped ease the tension in her constricted chest. "It was years ago that I begged you to bring him back for me, Naruto. We both know it was a foolish request on my part." She tilted her head in an effort to draw his eyes. "The weak girl who dumped this burden on your shoulders is no more."

The wrinkles grew more pronounced as he turned, and she caught sparks of grief within the depthless blue of his gaze.

"I know you're not weak, Sakura-chan… But I made you a promise. If anything, I made myself a promise." His ocean eyes pierced into her emeralds in earnest. "You were my Sakura-chan - and still, you're my Sakura-chan. I don't break my promises - especially not to you."

He paused, and thankfully his face eased some of its tension when he drew a dejected smile.

"I know we can bring him back together, but… I can't help but feel responsible for the bastard leaving. I failed to show him that choosing loneliness was a mistake. I've been in his place, Sakura-chan, and I need his stubborn ass to see that he doesn't need to push people away." He stared at an indiscernible point over her shoulder, mind lost to memories that triggered his raging thoughts.

Sakura's eyes shone with unshed tears as she offered him a smile she kept reserved just for him. She remained silent. There was nothing to be said.

When he finally looked back into her glassy orbs, she reached for his forehead, smoothening the disturbing crease with a light stroke of her fingertips. She was rewarded with his trademarked foxy grin and returned it with a sigh, taking to coaxing her fingers through his disheveled mane. He'd need another haircut soon. It was remarkable, how much he had grown...

Physically, of course, was unquestionably evident. He easily towered over her now. Gone were the childish hues, irrevocably replaced by sharp, mature lines. The faint golden stubble on his chin – frequently omitted of a trim on account of his negligence – was a constant reminder of this fact. Sometimes she had to do a double take when she looked his way and didn't see the short, annoying kid he used to be in her eyes. The changes weren't solely physical, however.

The luminous depths of his ocean eyes, reminiscent of a sun in its maturest days, reflected wisdom that came only with age, keeping his share of tribulations on hidden display. Despite this, his unrelentingly childish ways were yet to be discontinued, much to her dismay at times. His friendly, happiness-radiating ambiance was ever-present, persistently honing the impressions he left on those whose lives he touched. One had to be among the few who truly knew him to spot the remnants of heartache that lingered behind his eyes.

They had grown very close – much closer than she'd ever thought possible when they were twelve. It had been a gradual friendship that'd sparked over mutual hardships. Naruto's absence during his training with Jiraiya-sama had only favored their cause. They'd had time to reflect throughout their time apart and had both matured in their distinctive ways. And upon their reunion, the connection had been all the stronger. She based it on the fact that they'd simply shared too much together.

The moment was interrupted when Kakashi, Kiba and Akamaru landed in the clearing. Kiba got comfortable immediately, using Akamaru as a makeshift pillow to get some much needed sleep. Kakashi remained peering in their direction, aware of the nature of their conversation. They turned to him expectantly, wordlessly searching his eyes for news. His sole response, much to their dismay, was a quick shake of his head, before he made his way to the blazing fire, seeking reprieve in the hungry flames that lapped at the kindling.

Left with nothing to say, Sakura rose from her crouch and climbed the towering foliage to settle down for her night shift. The persistent clouds of the past four days had cleared, leaving the moon to hang unobstructed at long last. It wasn't quite a full moon, she noted, but it was close enough. The mystical glow caressed the forest, reaching far beyond what was visible to the human eye. Basking in its rays brought a small smile to her lips. It was breathtaking.

Unhindered thoughts carried her to Sasuke. Where was he now? Was he happy? Had his revenge granted him all that he'd hoped for? Was he injured from the battle? And why was he not here, given that his goal was now complete?

It was to be expected that she was mulling over him, she supposed; after all, he was their target. And yet, she reckoned it was worth coming to terms with the fact that she no longer saw the boy in the same light. He still stole over her thoughts of course, but gradually, the instances had started to occur less and less. Perhaps time had done its wonders, or maybe she'd just been too occupied over the past few years to keep him in her thoughts. Her shishou had seen to that.

Training under Tsunade had been – and still was – the most challenging phase of her life thus far. The woman always pushed her to her absolute limits. She'd believed on several occasions that she would likely die from overexertion - if not, worse, fail. On any given night, Sakura barely made it home to her bed, often finding herself succumb to sleep at the hospital in favour of the additional minutes of rest that'd be lost to travel time. Nevertheless, time had seen her adjust to this new life. Not because it grew less demanding - it got more challenging, in fact – but perhaps because she'd grown accustomed to the unforgiving ways of her shishou, refusing to condone failure whilst meeting her expectations.

It was clear to her that she would always care for Sasuke. He'd been an integral part of her life. If anything, she had him to thank for her persistent resolve to grow stronger - initially a feeble excuse to assist Naruto in his attempts to bring him back. And for that, Sasuke would always hold a special place in her heart. But at times, Sakura found herself questioning what she'd ever seen in the boy given his arrogance and cold demeanor. He'd certainly changed a whole lot from the little seven year-old boy she'd admired from afar. From what she remembered, Sasuke had done little to earn her unwavering love and devotion. Perhaps she'd merely been physically infatuated with him. Either way, she'd have to wait for their next encounter to reassess her feelings.

A sharp, muffled hiss suspended her musings. Her senses tingled and she was snapped to attention. A wheezing came next, and Sakura was granted a split second warning before she felt - more than she saw - an arm reach out for her in the darkness. She flung herself off the edge of her branch and twisted sharply, hurling two kunai in the direction of the assault. Wind whipped past her ears as she began a free-fall, and alerted of the fast-approaching ground, she pumped chakra to the soles of her feet and flipped before landing in the middle of their little camp, prompting a deep groan from the depths of the earth.

Vaguely she registered the rest of her team - on their feet and ready to handle the disturbance. Strangely enough, she no longer sensed their intruder. At all. It was as if he'd vanished.

"Hinata." The Byakugan user began scanning their surroundings on Kakashi's cue. The veined skin around her eyes wrinkled after a brief moment. "I don't see anyone…"

The words had barely left her lips when Sakura's senses prickled. The hissing returned - it was as though air itself was being sucked right out of their surroundings - and the subject of their apprehension materialized within their sights. He stood perched on a branch, silently surveying their group.

The Konoha-nin visibly tensed in recognition when they saw the man who'd intercepted their team only days ago - Tobi, his name was. He looked the same; an orange mask shielded his face - and his motives - from view while the cloud-patterned Akatsuki cloak rippled at his feet.

Sakura registered the near-indiscernible twitch to Kakashi's foot, aware of the Sharingan that blazed on his left eye as he strategized. This "Tobi" ought to have been at a disadvantage by their sheer numbers, but she wasn't heedless of their state of exhaustion. Considering this, and unwilling to fool herself into optimism, she realized dimly that they may just be fucked.

She could hardly delude herself into thinking that he may be here for another casual chat; she surmised - with a sinking feeling - that this time, she had a pretty good idea of his point of interest. Said interest stood to her right, visibly taut and more than ready to pounce. Well, if this Tobi wanted her friend, he would certainly need to get through her first.

Just as she took a measured step forward to obstruct the man's path to Naruto, their target seemingly vanished. A measly second passed before suddenly he was materializing right in front of her - and a swift arm reached forward not unlike a few seconds ago.

Startled from the abrupt attack, Sakura noted the man's proximity to Naruto at his new positioning, and she reacted at lightning speed. With no amount of thinking, she flung herself at her friend to shove him out of harm's way.

The raucous uproar of the next second was an onslaught on her ears. Deafening. Crippling. Many things seemed to occur simultaneously; the wheezing and whistling of Sai's kunai as it whipped toward their target, Kakashi's mutter of a jutsu with the last of his hand signs, the astounding crack of splintering wood courtesy of Yamato, and Akamaru's growl tearing over the commotion.

She hadn't yet held her breath in anticipation of the chaos when her bearings began to spin out of control in the same instant that a hand seized her left shoulder. The last image she registered was that of Naruto - frozen in shock, lips parted mid-yell, and features twisted in bewilderment - before she was crushed under an unworldly mass that pulverized her senses; she was submerged in an airless vicinity of pitch-black nothingness, of deafening silence. The suffocating pressure forced every last drop of oxygen from her lungs.

And then it was gone as quickly as it'd begun, leaving dizzying nausea in its wake. She released a throaty gasp, gulping her demand of air as though she'd broken surface from a current, before collapsing on a stone-cold surface in the all-consuming darkness.

When her gasps had diminished to coughs, she heaved herself to her feet and shifted into a defensive stance. Where was she?

A dim lantern came to life on the far wall, holding a single flame that did little to provide sufficient lighting. She blinked against the assault on her sensitive eyes before quickly surveying the room to find no impending threats. Her muscles had barely eased of their tension when she froze, wide eyes drawn to the still figure in the middle of the room, just a few steps away.

The body was visibly unconscious – could have been a corpse for the insufficient rise to its chest – but what instigated her hammering heart was the flicker of a light - a light that fleeted over his features before burying him in shadows once more. A dread like no other sunk into her gut, and Sakura found herself terrified to assess his condition.

It was with trembling limbs that she lowered herself beside him just as another flare roamed his face, allowing her a closer look - and suddenly Sakura was back against the wall, clinging for dear life. Her heels slipped as she scrambled to distance herself from the body. A choked scream died in her throat, and her nails dug painfully into cement, drawing blood. The fading nausea resurfaced with a vengeance, wrenching her insides and threatening to dispel the contents of her empty stomach.

She fought desperately to avert her eyes, but it seemed that they couldn't be torn from the sight before her. His features held her gaze in an unrelenting grip; Sakura was a prey, taken by the terror of having her predator at such close proximity. She berated herself for mistaking the man's identity. Despite certain similarities, it would be hard to miss the familiar face of her old teammate. And this man was certainly not Sasuke.

It was Uchiha Itachi.

She'd seen him only once before, and very briefly, when her team had faced him in battle. His features had been the least of her concerns, as she'd been too busy avoiding them on account of his eyes. She was happy to say that she hadn't been overly acquainted with him - likely one of the reasons why she'd lived to tell the tale.

He was alive? How was that possible? The Akatsuki had announced the battle's outcome only days ago - Sasuke had killed Itachi. She'd been there with the rest of her team to hear it for herself. And yet, given the weak heartbeat that thrummed in the deafening silence, she didn't have to be a medic-nin to ascertain that he was alive – albeit barely, it seemed.

Sakura swallowed thickly, willing herself to keep composed. She retracted from the wall and straightened up. There was no need to be afraid. The Uchiha was no threat to her in his current condition.

She faltered in her movements. What should she do? Should she kill him? It would be all too easy - a swift flick to his chest and the struggling heart would give out. Did Sasuke know that his brother lived? Would he be angry with her if she were the one to kill him? And what if Sasuke was also on the brink of death? As she continued to debate with herself, she became increasingly aware of the fact that she had no idea where she was or why she'd been brought here. It'd almost been a full minute, and her abnormal solitude was concerning, to say the least.

As if on cue, the familiar hissing reached her ears, and she was no longer alone. Sakura braced herself against the threat, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

Tobi took assured steps forward. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill him."

Sakura reeled, and the back of her heel met resistance. Leathered hands fisted at her sides. "Why am I here?" She wouldn't let him see her irresolution, but she was struggling to justify her unforeseen predicament. The Akatsuki were after Naruto, not her. Pale brows furrowed as she observed the laid-back man before her. Unless… Unless she was to be used as bait.

Her blood ran cold with the realization that Naruto would no doubt chase after Akatsuki to find her.

The man's attention remained on the Uchiha - he was yet to spare her a glance. She watched him regard the body with obvious disdain - at least as obvious as it could be from his posture - and a bone-chilling aura descended over the modest room, drawing goosebumps along her bare limbs. His air of nonchalance made him seem almost...bored, as though he was having to do chores before playtime.

And suddenly, she became the abrupt focus of his scrutiny, and his single visible eye - his all-too-familiar, crimson eye - caught her emerald orbs in a vice-like grip.

It was her frozen limbs - and the remnants of her fast-depleting resolve - that kept her from collapsing in utter terror. She stared, disbelievingly, hopelessly, into the depthless void of his Sharingan.

"You are to heal Uchiha Itachi."