VOLLMOND

Summary: AU Hunting down the beasts of the night was what he lived for, what surged through his veins. He had been killing these creatures for so long that he started to believe he was one. Then he met her, the one who would end up saving his immortal soul. Oneshot entry for Vesper chan's contest. [Itachi x Sakura]

A/N: At first, I had absolutely no idea in what this contest entry would be about. Thankfully, I was chatting to Celtic Aurora on Skype and somehow, brainstorming ideas with her stimulate me to come up with a Halloween-based theme of monster hunting. First off, Itachi was going to be a vampire/vampire hunter but come on, vampires have been used so much it's becoming cliché (and let's all thank Twatlight–erm, I mean Twilight–for that). And plus, nobody seems to care about the werewolves anymore…poor guys. Hence, I'm shining the spotlight on the wolves now, they did some love too!

As for a story to recommend…there are too many. Just go and read some of TK Grimm's works and bother her to update A Third Chance. Another recommendation I have is my previously mentioned buddy, Celtic Aurora. Now, she doesn't write Naruto fics but she knows how to whip up some killer Van Helsing, Underworld, etc stories. She helped rekindle my love for Van Helsing. ;D

Also, I have a third recommendation! Hikari Adams writes some kick-ass Naruto and Harry Potter fanfics, I highly recommend her to you! She the only one who can actually make me tolerate Sasuke for once (and for those who know me well, that's saying something. Plus, she pairs him up with Hanabi so that's all well and dandy with me).

For all words that I was required to use, I'm putting little asterisks (*) next to them. And for those who were wondering, "vollmond" is German for "full moon". I got the idea from one of my favorite bands, In Extremo's song, "Vollmond". Very appropriate, ja?

Text:

"Speech"

Thoughts

Flashbacks

Disclaimer: Nah, I don't own Naruto. If I did, Sasuke would already be dead now–or at least be de-assholitized (and he'd go with Hanabi simply because Hikari Adams hooked me into that sort of pairing). As for Sakura…she's going with Orochimaru.

"But evil things, in robes of sorrow,

Assailed the monarch's high estate.

(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow

Shall dawn upon him desolate!)

And round about his home the glory

That blushed and bloomed,

Is but a dim-remembered story

Of the old time entombed.

And travelers, now, within that valley,

Through the red-litten windows see

Vast forms, that move fantastically

To a discordant melody,

While, like a ghastly rapid river,

Through the pale door

A hideous throng rush out forever

And laugh- but smile no more."

-The Haunted Place, Edgar Allen Poe

It had been snowing on that fateful day.

He remembered that because those tiny specks of white were swirling all around him when he sprinted back home, his labored breath freezing in the cold, winter air, his heart hammering frantically in his ribcage while his feet crunched violently in the snow. The snowflakes fell on his face, his raven tresses, his clothes, everywhere but he paid that no mind as he raced against time, to prevent a terrible bloodshed that was about to be taken place, to save his family from those monsters.

Okāsan...otōsan…Sasuke... I'm coming! Just wait a little longer and I will stop them. I will kill them all!

Light, shallow footsteps remained imprinted in the snow as the young hunter raced to the death to return home, his dark cloak and hair whipping all around him against the howling, biting wind. He was almost there, he would make it just in time, he could see his manor up ahead—

A death rattle pierced the night sky, seizing the monster hunter's heart and squeezing it so tightly that he felt like the organ was about to explode. For the first time in awhile, a strangled cry escaped his lips and the young man rushed toward his house, already smelling the sanguinary carnage within.

"Okāsan! Sasuke! Otōsan! Sasuke!" he shouted, his voice hoarse and aghast. Rage tearing up in him, he kicked down the door and ran inside, the smell of death and blood already pervading the air around him. But he was use to this, the display of carnage. Yet nothing, not even all his years of training could fully prepare him for this:

The sight of his family, butchered like animals, sprawled on an enormous pool of their own blood.

It was enough to drive a man insane.

"NO!" he thundered, rushing over to the mauled, contorted corpses of his mother, father, and little brother, his obsidian eyes gleaming with grief and unshed tears. Sinking down to his knees in despair, the young monster hunter bowed his head at the demise of his family, hands clenched into two taut, deadly fists with death-white knuckles at his sides. He then leaned over and closed their eyes before taking one of the torn, shredded curtains and draped it over the three, mutilated carcasses, shielding them from the world forever. Once that was complete, the young man unsheathed his blade from its scabbard and he held it out in front of the bodies of his father, who was so strict and distant; his mother, who cared for him and lavished him with love; and his brother, Sasuke, who idolized him and wished to be just as strong as he was someday. All their hopes and dreams would now be buried with them.

"Otōsan. Okāsan. Sasuke." he began, his tone hoarse and clipped but still mighty and powerful. "I will find those creatures that murdered you and snuffed your life from this world. With this sword I shall bath it in their blood and spare no mercy to those wolves, those monsters. Any demon, werewolf, vampire or any evil being who destroys and slaughters the innocent will answer to me and my sword, Kuroi Seigi(1). This I vow to all of you and I will not rest until I see your deaths avenged."

The katana was slipped back into its sheath and the bereft monster hunter then ignited matching, dropping it on the covered bodies. This place of death, carrion, and carnage was no longer his own, those beasts saw to it when they butchered his family members liked pigs.

The fire engulfed the estate entirely, avariciously licking up and consuming everything on sight. Smoke* billowed ominously against the starless, dusky gray* sky, snowflakes dancing all round him as he left the burning house. The memories alone would be painful enough.

And so began Uchiha Itachi, a remnant of his clan, and his quest for revenge…and salvation.

"How I wish there was heaven
All for one and one for all
A flawless soul society
Our lives are just a fragment
Of the universe and all
There may be more than we can see."

-Soul Society, Kamelot

Sakura nuzzled her face against the neck of her mate, relaxed by the soft, soothing sound of his breathing. His musky scent of sandalwood, blood, pine, and cedar wafted into her nose, enthralling her senses so she buried herself further in him, tossing one leg possessively over his torso. A faint, highly amused chuckle resonated from her mate and a pair of garnet eyes gazed directly at her.

"Enjoying yourself, Sakura?" inquired Sasori, her mate, as he trailed one finger up and down her arm. Sakura giggled, turning her head around so she could face him.

"Sorry. You just smell so nice." Sasori chortled again, leaning over to brush his mouth against hers.

"I should be saying the same about you. Your incense often drives me crazy with passion." His lips then lowered themselves to her bare neck and Sakura closed her eyes, feeling a wave of heat and ardor consuming her. Her hands crawled up his back and tangled her fingers into his smooth, silky locks of crimson. Morning had just peeked over the mountains and already Sakura was feeling amorous and ready fornicate with her husband even though their young son could pop in on them at any given moment.

"Sasori," she moaned, pure bliss in her voice, "I have to go and out hunt for our breakfast. If we start now, all the good game will be gone and we'll have to eat later."

"I can nick some food from Deidara," Sasori murmured huskily, trailing butterfly kisses up and down her throat, "He owes me after all the times I had to save his ass."

Sakura was about to point out that his best friend and partner wouldn't see things his way when Riku, their five-year-old son, burst into the room, his little face bright and energetic. Screaming out "otōsan!" and "okāsan!", he gleefully dived into bed with his parents, worming his way in-between them. Sasori amusingly shook his head while Sakura wished him a good morning before kissing his cheek.

"I'm hungry, okāsan!" Riku announced matter-of-factly, "Is otōsan keeping you from hunting? You did that to him yesterday!"

Like with many members of the pack, Sasori and Sakura often rotated whose turn it was to hunt and bring back food for each meal. Sasori provided the meat yesterday and now, it was Sakura's job.

"Don't worry, Riku. I'm going hunting right now. You just have to keep your father away from me." Sakura teased, kissing the top of her son's head before pecking her mate on the lips. "I'll be right back, you two."

Riku cleaved to her a little longer, not wanting her to go right this second but his grumbling belly and Sasori's smooth, persuasive coaxing of playing a game or two was enough to convince Riku to release his grip on Sakura. Patting her son's head, she assured him she would be back as soon as possible with a nice deer for them to feast on. Once she was out of the house, she shed off her clothes and began the transformation.

Light fuzz began sprouting all over her bare form, slowly growing and becoming thick tuffs of fur. Her nails elongated and turned into tough, lethally sharp claws that could easily slice flesh and bone in two. Deadly canine teeth protruded from her mouth and Sakura could feel her tail popping out over her posterior. Her body shifted and moved about, bones snapping off and molding themselves into a completely different structure as Sakura fell down on all fours, gritting her teeth against the almost painful, discomforting process. By now, she had gotten use to the transformation but sometimes, the change still felt alarmingly uncomfortable. Yet the payoff for the rather unsettling transmogrify didn't even last for a minute; it took very skilled werewolves to complete the change a little over a few seconds–that came in handle for fights.

Now in her werewolf form, Sakura rose back on her hind legs and unleashed a breathtaking, fearsome howl, signaling to her pack that she was off hunting. Once the cry was over, she dashed straight into the forest, breathing in the cool, damp air and relishing the adrenaline rush in her veins as the taste for the hunt formed in her mouth.

Unbeknownst to her, this would be her very last hunt for her family.

"Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.

How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake."

-On Death, John Keats

"You must not let these filthy beasts live, Itachi. Sooner or later, an innocent victim will be butchered by their hands. You know this, Itachi, for you have seen it."

Madara's sickening words rang through out the young Uchiha's head as he swung his silver-coated katana around, slicing the head off another werewolf. Even though he didn't trust the man, he still owed Madara his service. It was Madara who took him in and brought him back to the surviving members of the Uchiha clan, mobilizing them into a massive, fighting team of monster slayers. They soon became a force to be reckoned with, a force that all unholy creatures feared to encounter in the night. Madara promised Itachi he would help him find the werewolves that murdered his family but for now, he had to patient.

Itachi could wait for all eternity, just as long as his quest for justice succeeded.

He just didn't expect to have his moral compass be put to the test when Madara and his men raided a secluded werewolf village and began slaughtering all the inhabitants. The lycans put up a tough fight but the slayers had the element of surprise and silver weapons so the odds were in their favor at the moment. Itachi didn't hesitant one bit, he just effortlessly followed orders and slashed his way through the thick, bloody masses of werewolves. After killing dozens and dozens of them without breaking a sweat, Itachi scanned the turmoil running rampant all over the vicinity. Just then he was about to join in another fray and help his friend, Shisui, out again, a flash of crimson caught his eye. When he turned around to face his next opponent, he was shocked to find himself staring into the cerise eyes of a small, young werewolf boy. His eyes and hair reminded Itachi of blood but such innocence flowed through him that for the first time in awhile, Itachi felt reluctant, conflicted even, to kill. He lowered his sword arm, not wanting to alarm the child but still, the boy eyed him warily. He was crouched, ready to defend himself in case anything should occur.

Itachi sighed–why did he have to let his guard down, especially for a child? Madara gave him specific commands: no quarter, no survivors. And yet, Itachi knew as he gazed into the frightened eyes of this scarlet-haired boy, he couldn't bring himself to bring his katana down on his fragile neck. He just simply couldn't.

He may be a lycan but he's still a pure-hearted child. He doesn't have innocent blood on his hands like the rest of his kin.

"What's your name?" he asked the boy tonelessly, sheathing his katana so he could signal to the youth that he wasn't going to harm him, "And I know it sounds inconceivable but I will not hurt you."

The young boy glared fiercely at him, disbelief flaring in those cinnabar orbs of his. "You guys killed my otōsan! I hate you all!" he spat, fists clenched together so tightly his knuckles took on an albicant hue. At those words, Itachi froze, realizing at this moment, this young boy was experiencing the same emotions he felt when he saw his family brutally slaughtered. Pain…bereavement…horror…rage–all of it. But now, he was a part of the men who had ruthlessly snuffed this wolf boy's father out of existence.

"Your father murdered many good people," Itachi tried to explain, and yet for some strange reason, those words felt empty, hallow even, to him. It was as if he didn't believe in them anymore. The little child shook his head furiously, his cheeks getting redder and redder by the minute.

"That's not true! My otōsan and my okāsan are some of the best werewolves ever and they would never hurt an innocent!" he protested, rushing up to Itachi and with a growl, lunged at him. The Uchiha easily dodged his attack and restrained him swiftly by grabbing his wrists and clamping them together behind his back. Had he been a grown man, Itachi would have pinned him to the ground instead. The lycan boy snarled and whimpered aggressively, now muttering something about his mother coming back and that he, Itachi, would be a very, very big trouble.

"Listen to me, I'm not here to harm you," the raven-haired genius remarked crisply, wanting to get this child out of the battle before Madara noticed him. "Believe or not, I don't kill children, no matter if they're human or not. I'm going to take you some place safe, all right?"

Unfortunately, the boy shook his head, tears now coming out of his eyes because the shock of his father's death had finally weighed down upon him and he missed his mother terribly. Itachi knew he had to get him to safety before the mother returned and attempts to eat him for breakfast. And the last entity he desired to be at the moment was lycan fodder.

"I'm sorry for what I'm about to do," he murmured to the wailing five-year-old, one hand fastened tightly around his neck, "But it's for your own good." He then pressed one finger into the youth's pressure point, knocking him out ere the young werewolf could howl for assistance. After when the boy slumped forward, Itachi gathered him into his arms and started walking away from combat and headed towards a haven where he knew this child would be safe.

"After the night he died
I wept my tears until they dried
But the pain stayed the same
I didn't want him to die all in vain
I made a promise to revenge his soul in time
I'll make them bleed down at my feet.

Sometimes I wonder
Could I have known about their true intentions?
As the pain stayed the same
I'm going to haunt them down all the way
I made a promise to revenge his soul in time
One by one they were surprised."

-The Promise, Within Temptation

She arrived too late; too late fight or save them.

Her home was burned to the ground, decapitated or mutilated carcasses of her pack strewn across the destroyed village like a surreal, grotesque oil painting. Nothing here was sacred to the hunters, they trashed and expunged any remnants of her werewolf tribe.

Tears brimming in her eyes, Sakura dropped her kill and raced into the vacant, scorched village, searching for her family.

"SASORI! RIKU! SASORI! RIKU! WHERE ARE YOU?"

Her voice was so close to hyperventilation as she frantically tossed rubble and charred wood out of the way to find her husband and son. When she came to what was the left of her home, the sanguinary sight evoked a horrendous, soul-splitting scream.

Sakura wasn't prepared to witness her husband lying dead in the puddle of his own blood, his entire body hacked and slashed into tiny bits and pieces. Only his head remained untouched, his glassy crimson eyes staring listlessly back at her. In a state of panic she looked for Riku but didn't find him or his body; that only gave her a faint glimmer of hope. Exhausted and devastated, Sakura sank to her knees at the dismembered corpse of her beloved, silent tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, Sasori…" she sobbed, reaching out to pick Sasori's head up from the mess, "You tried to protect our son, didn't you? My poor husband…I should been there for the both of you." Her shoulders shook as more crystalline droplets trickled down her cheeks and chin.

Sasori was deceased, her son was either capture, lost, or dead, and her entire village was utterly demolished with some besmirched, scorched vestiges remaining. And she remained inside what was left of her home, cradling the head of her husband while weeping her poor, shattered heart for the world to hear.

Sakura was alone now and there was nothing left in life for her.

No…that's not true.

This thought echoed inside the pinkette's head as the sun slowly rose over the desecrated hamlet. A slight, gentle breeze whipped across the land, tickling Sakura's keen nose and sharp senses. Old smells from last night and brutal carnage stirred the recess of her mind and growl escaped her throat. She now had the scent of those who murdered her family and friends.

I might be alone now but I still do have something left in life now.

A bitter, dark smile graced her lips.

Revenge.

"Who are you?
Man condemned to shine a salvation
Throughout the centuries
Why?
Was the wine of the grail
Too sour for man to drink?"
-The Carpenter, Nightwish

Three years had come and gone and Itachi sometimes caught himself wondering about how he managed to survive all those years, slaying monsters without Madara and his men to help back him up. He had gotten use to the solitary hunting (he actually preferred it that way) but he still couldn't shake off the fact that Madara was searching for him so he could kill him as punishment for insubordination and severing ties with him. One just didn't walk away from Uchiha Madara unscathed. Itachi was simply lucky that he was good masking his and Riku's presence from his former boss or any bounty hunters who wanted his head to get on Madara's good side and perhaps win a seat of power in the real, unsuspecting world.

"Itachi-oji(4)?"

Jarred away from his internal musings, the said man jerked his head up to face the eager, determined face of the crimson-haired eight-year-old who, over time, grew attached to him and began to think of him as an uncle or an older brother. Itachi was rather relieved that Riku never started calling him brother because that word would open too many festering, raw scars that had yet to fully heal. He could handle being called "uncle" though.

Yet there was always an incredible wave of guilt that would wash over him whenever he looked at Riku and was reminded of his last hunt with Madara and his posse. Riku had said his tribe was innocent of any wrong-doings and after some interviewing with the townsfolk in nearby villages, he had painfully came to learn that they had not received any werewolf threats, just merely some missing livestock here and there–and that was it. After that, Itachi felt like he had just murdered countless of innocent lives, supernatural creatures that were bothering no one and simply living out their lives. And Madara had ordered for their demise.

"Madara, that werewolf clan we destroyed… I have reason to believe that they were innocent of any crime. They did no harm to any of the surrounding hamlets and didn't appear like they were planning to any time soon."

Madara's coal-like eyes swerved at him, a spark of incredulity and ire glinted fleetingly in them as he pierced Itachi with a disapproving glare. Itachi simply stared back at him with cool indifference.

"Why now do you question my orders, Itachi?" he hissed, a flash of garnet in his orbs as he slowly closed in on the young Uchiha, "I know how much you despise those beasts, the ones who slaughtered your family. Or have you forgotten that?"

"I have not, Madara," Itachi answered tonelessly, "But certain events have cause me to reflect. If we mindlessly slay any monster we think as 'evil' and end up murdering innocent supernaturals…aren't we no better than the monsters we supposedly hunt and slay for the good of humanity?"

This caused Madara to finally break his nearly unflappable façade and snap.

"DAMMIT, ITACHI!" he roared, grabbing the said man by the collage and flinging him against the wall, "You mustn't let your conscience get to you! I thought you, of all people, would understand the importance of that!" He glowered furiously at Itachi, his truculent rage fading from his face and actions but there still was a tell-tale glimmer in his eyes.

"What has come over you? Have you gotten soft all of a sudden? Is this business too bloody, too demanding for you?" he then sneered, slamming Itachi at the wall again to show the young man who was the one in power, "I never esteemed that Fugaki could sire such weaklings."

Resisting the urge to sink his katana into Madara's gut, Itachi merely cut him a frostily glare, his nigrine orbs blazing with indignation. "Madara…" he warned, a venomous edge in his seemingly monotonous words, "Don't push me into doing something I'll regret."

This threat didn't seem to faze Madara at all. In fact, the foreboding statement seemed to replace his choler with regalement instead. Deep, dark, maddening regalement.

"Like what? Harboring a werewolf child?"

Even though Itachi didn't show it, all the blood in his veins froze.

"Itachi-oji!"

Grateful for Riku's interruption, Itachi felt the unsavory memories drift away as he halted his mediating to face Riku.

"What is it, Riku?" he began placidly, "Have you finished the drills for today?"

Riku nodded his head eagerly, holding up his wakizashi(5) (Itachi promised him when he was old and skilled enough he would be allowed to use a katana) for Itachi to see. "Uh-huh! And guess what? I got the technique you showed me yesterday finally down!" He then proceeded to demonstrate the aforementioned technique to his mentor, his wakizashi flawlessly slicing the air. When he was finished with the skill, Riku lowered his blade and looked back at Itachi, a hopeful, eager expression on his young, beaming face.

"What do you think, oji? Did I do it right?" the boy chirped, running up to his mentor. Although he didn't smile, there was an amiable, proud light shining in Itachi's onyx eyes as he watched Riku.

"You did well, Riku. You have shown remarkable progress." He then unsheathed his katana. "Now, I believe it's time for a spar. Are you ready?"

Prior Riku could respond with a cheery, affirmative "hai!", a savage roar echoed tumultuously through the air. Alarmed, Itachi brought his sword up and shoved Riku behind him just in time for a huge, lean werewolf to explode out of a thicket, verdant eyes aflame and jaw open wide, bearing out its teeth with furious, fearsome ferocity.

"Riku, go back inside!" Itachi ordered, leveling his katana with deadly accuracy, "I'll take care of this."

The young boy hesitated, eyeing the light-colored werewolf curiously as if he had seen the beast before. His nostrils twitched and he gave a little sniff, wondering if he recognized the scent or not. Suddenly, his wary face broke out into an euphoric grin and he tore past Itachi, to the lycan, crying out:

"Okāsan!"

"Okāsan?" Itachi repeated, bafflement shown only in his voice. His face managed to remain stoic and stern as the young Riku was reunited with his mother. He watched how the rather peach-rose colored werewolf began changing shape, slowly losing her fur and sharp claws and gaining a more humanoid form. By the time Riku wrapped his arms around her and gave her a huge, tear-jerking hug, the female werewolf was already in her human shape and embracing him just as tightly. Itachi noticed her nudity right off the bat and shrugged off his cloak, holding it out to the roseate-haired mother as she stood up, clasping Riku's hand in her own.

"Here," he offered, tilting his head away from her so he wouldn't exploit her vulnerability and nakedness. However, when he was expecting to feel the weight of the cloak leave his fingertips, he wasn't expecting to feel a solid fist colliding into his jaw. Caught off guard, Itachi dropped the article of clothing and swiftly dodged the next fist, grabbing the woman's wrist and pinning her to the ground with him on top. He gave himself a mental note to not look down and keep eye-contact with this she-wolf.

"What was that for?" he questioned her dangerously, ignoring Riku's panicked, perplexed cries.

"That was for taking my son, you bastard!" she snarled, spitting in his face, "And laying waste to my village!"

Itachi stiffened, memories of that eventful day flashing back into his mind, taunting them with his guilt and sins. He should have known if there was a survivor, they would try to track him down in hopes to avenge their tribe.

"But okāsan," protested Riku, rushing up to both his mother and Itachi, "Itachi-oji saved me! He protected me from those bad men!"

"He did what?" gasped the pinkette, her emerald eyes darting back and forth from her son to the young Uchiha, "But your scent…I smelled it near my house when I returned. How…?" She glanced back at Itachi for an explanation. He stared back at her with utter stolidity.

"I will not lie and say I didn't have a hand in the decimation of your tribe," he began deliberately, "I killed many of your kin and for that, I am deeply sorry. I was only following orders at the time and believed I was doing humanity a favor." Even though his visage remained blasé, Sakura could catch a glimpse of remorse hidden away in those lonely ebony eyes of his, darker and more fathomless than any pit*. Just one look into those lost, pained orbs and Sakura's lust for vengeance slowly evanesced away.

"But how did you happen across my son?" she demanded softly, wondering if this was the man who butchered her husband.

"I found him all alone," Itachi answered bluntly, neglecting to mention how he lost all will to end Riku's life, "and I concealed him from the organization I was a member of. When Riku's presence was known, I severed ties from them and brought Riku out here, where we wouldn't be disturbed and I could have an easier time protecting him."

He could still recollect Madara's orders.

"Itachi! Kill the wolf brat now!"

At the sight of Riku's teary red eyes and quivering body, Itachi knew what had to be done. All these years he had been living a lie, ignoring the whisperings of his own conscience for far too long.

Riku deserved to live much more than he did.

Unsheathing his katana, Itachi resolutely opened his eyelids, revealing two pairs of frightening ruby.

"No."

"I have no wit, I have no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
A lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is like the falling leaf;
O Jesus, quicken me."

-A Better Resurrection, Sylvia Plath

"There is still something I don't understand," the woman called Sakura stated as she set her mug down on the table. It was late and Riku had been put to bed, both by his mother and Itachi's stern commands.

"What is it then?" remarked the ebony-haired monster hunter as he sat back down in his chair across from her.

"Why did you save my son? What prevented you from dispatching him?" Sakura voiced out curtly, pinning him down with that inquisitive, fiery scrutiny of hers.

Lowering his eyes, Itachi suddenly felt old, weary from Sakura's question even though he knew the answer. "Because when I gazed into his crimson eyes and terrified, bereaved face, I realized that in my heart, I couldn't kill a child, even if he was werewolf. After that, I began questioning my organization's actions and their morale, wondering if I had been blindly following mandates all along and didn't comprehend what I had done in the process."

"But didn't your leader lie to you about my kind?" Sakura prodded, suddenly feeling sorrowful for this man. Although he didn't show it, she could still detect hints of agony and contriteness inside of him, the guilt eating him alive. She thought she would be seething through her teeth when she finally found one of those who were responsible for destroying her village and yet all she could feel was pity. Utter pity.

"As I later discovered, he did," admitted Itachi, "By his decree, many innocent lycans of your village, who hadn't harmed a single soul, died. I had vowed to never harm the innocent and in the irony of it all, I broke my oath because of my own blindness for revenge."

His very last word sparked Sakura's attention. "Revenge? For what?"

Itachi lifted his head up to face her. "For a reason very similar to yours once was."

His implication struck Sakura to the bone–he had lost someone who he had dearly loved as well.

"How—" But her words died the instant her viridian orbs met his nigrine ones and beheld the empty, haunted look in them. Whatever he saw, that memory had been permanently engraved in his mind.

Suddenly feeling rather awkward, Sakura glanced back down at her mug, sloshing the hot beverage around to ease her nerves. Besides, it wasn't her place to poke her nose into Itachi's past, especially at a rather painful, gut-wrenching recollection. She didn't want to be the one to rub salt on the wounds.

"Never mind," she added softly, taking a meager sip from the cup, "It wasn't my place to ask."

Itachi uttered nothing in return.

"So many days we've spent together
Trying to get ahead with our dreams
Now we have come to the goal forgotten
Hurting within left us torn.

The road is open
We find out way through ties where broken
So the means to the end
Was the peace that was meant
To be ours since it all began."

-Our Destiny, Epica

In the end, Sakura chose to stay with Itachi. She saw how attached her son had become to the monster hunter and couldn't bear the thought of rending them apart. Even though he always called Itachi "uncle", she was beginning to see the Uchiha already becoming a father figure for Riku. The notion of Sasori dead and unable to help raise Riku in the years to come still left an unsavory lump in her chest and pulled on her heartstrings a bit viciously but she could count on Itachi to assist her. He was no longer part of the organization that slaughtered her village and yet, she hoped that Itachi's leader, Madara, would find them so she could rip his lungs right out of his chest, ribcage and all.

The days crawled into weeks which slowly formed into months and by the time Sakura realized it, a full year had passed. And in retrospect, it had been a lovely year, with Riku getting older and displaying his whip-smart mind even more as he sailed through his academic lessons. He showed remarkable progress with his katana training with Itachi and was beginning to control his abilities as a werewolf better than before.

However, Riku wasn't the only person Sakura often found herself wondering about. There was Itachi, of course, and his endless aura of mystery. She knew so much about him and yet so little. His past was an enigma, a subject the pinkette didn't want to approach unless she felt both she and Itachi were ready to converse about such a touchy topic. She craved to understand what propelled him to become a monster hunter, to join a group of slayers (besides the fact that Madara was an old relative of his).

Unfortunately for her, Itachi wasn't the type to talk much, much less answer questions. So she had to try other means.

"I never told you," Sakura began one day, "But you're so wonderful with Riku. I never pictured you as a man who's good with children. Did you have any?"

Itachi shook his head, ebony eyes still watching Riku as he played. "No, I never had the time for love or marriage. But…I had a younger brother."

Excitement coursed through Sakura's veins–this was the first time he mentioned his family after so many months! "What's his name?"

"Sasuke. His name was Sasuke."

The word 'was' robbed her of her fugacious triumph and replaced the fleeting emotion with sorrow instead. By his words and tone of his voice, Itachi's little brother had to be dead.

And maybe that's what he meant by revenge–revenge for Sasuke, his departed little brother.

"He must have such a darling boy," Sakura whispered, touching his arm in a consoling manner, "I would have loved to meet him."

The dark-eyed slayer first stared deeply at Sakura's rather affectionate, comforting gesture and then tilted his black, inscrutable gaze up at her, his eyes piercing her with its inky emptiness. Yet he offered no comment to her gesticulation, he merely nodded at her statement and resumed his observation of Riku's success.

Just when Sakura was about to give up and leave him be, she heard the young hunter speak.

"Sasuke was a charming lad. He would have been around your age."

There was no mistaking the brief, subtle catch in his husky timbre.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

-Sonnet 18, Shakespeare

It had been only a year and somehow, beneath his iron, numb heart, he had begun to develop feelings for the young werewolf mother.

Sometimes Itachi would catch himself watching her, observing any slight gesture or movement that belied her thoughts or emotions. He found himself enjoying the way her face picked up different, brief expressions when she read out loud to Riku or to herself. He loved the way her emerald eyes sparkled with resolve when she faced a challenge laid out before her and refused to quit until she had overcome the obstacle. All the little things about Sakura made up who she was and now, Itachi frankly couldn't imagine living without her and her particular quirks.

But he could never approach her and express the fiery, fierce sensation in his heart–no, he absolutely couldn't. Her husband may be dead for many a year but that didn't mean she was still mourning his death. Or she simply wouldn't be able to love again after his passing; some widows just couldn't get over the death of their husbands.

Notwithstanding, keeping his silence pained Itachi even more, much to his utter dismay. Every waking day Itachi would fight his inner longing to simply walk up to her, brush his hand against her cheek, and maybe, just maybe, claim those beckoning lips of hers. To feel such potent emotions baffled Itachi and he struggled to understand what exactly was he experiencing. Was it affection, infatuation perhaps? Was he merely besotted or smitten with her? Or did the strange, fiery sensation stem from something more powerful, like passion?

Or was it love he was feeling?

Love…

That single but thought-provoking, monumental word echoed over and over again in Itachi's head. Now, he was curious. He had never been in love before so he didn't know what that emotion was suppose be or feel like. So he went Sakura, who he knew could answer his question. She, after all, had been love with Riku's father; he could glean that much just by the way she had talked about him.

"Sakura," he began when it was just the two of them and Riku was asleep in his bed, "How do you know when you're in love?"

His blunt query startled Sakura, who first stared at him with perplexity. Itachi was never one to beat around the bush, per se. She then realized how serious he was and recovered from her initial shock and struggled to articulate her musings on the matter.

"It's hard to explain, really. I didn't love Sasori when I first encountered him–I thought he was a complacent, licentious, manipulative arsehole. That was what my village instilled into me about werewolves and similar creatures." Sakura explained, her features adopting a rather distant expression. "But when I first happened across him, he and his friend, Deidara, were injured and running away from a group of monster hunters. I, at first, was going to turn them over and yet…"

Sakura paused, turning her gaze away from Itachi towards a widow, as if she was looking into the beyond. "I remembered my training as a physician and the oath I took from my mentor. These men, even though they weren't human, needed my medical skills and if I forsake them, I would be breaking my oath. So I took them to my cottage and tended them–only my childhood friend Ino knew of my secret. I trusted her enough not to worry about betraying me and besides, she developed a crush on Deidara." A small chuckle escaped her.

"Was that how you fell in love with your husband? By taking care of him and his wounds?" Itachi questioned further.

Nodding her head, Sakura added, "More or less. We got to learn more of each other as he and Deidara recovered and because of him, I realized how skewered my perceptions of his kind really were. After that, I hated him less and less and somehow, love took its place instead. After all, you know what they say: there's fine line between love and hate."

She then returned her gaze to him. "Did I answer your question, Itachi?"

Just one glance into those viridian eyes and Itachi knew what he had to do. He could no longer rein in the love he had for Sakura, the emotion now was just far too strong to be fully contained. Although she might reject him, Itachi would rather live the rest of his life carrying no regrets instead of some.

"You tell me," he answered before closing in on their proximity and brushed his lips against her own unsuspecting ones. He waited for resistance, for a murmur of protest but none came. So he continued on, kissing her for the first time, hardly able to believe that Sakura was permitting this to betide. Then, all of a sudden, he felt her arms snake around him and she pulled him even closer, pressing her breasts up against his chest. She then parted her lips, inviting him in a hungry, fervent manner. Itachi's primitive instincts took over and he gladly accepted, taking a more passionate turn with his kissing and caressing. One hand firmly encircled her tiny waist while the other was splayed on the small of her back. Meanwhile, Sakura had her fingers tangled up fiercely in his long, raven locks.

They felt like they had been at this for hours when it was merely seconds before Sakura and Itachi withdrew from each other, panting heavily in each other's arms.

"Sakura…?" Itachi whispered, staring at her expectantly, "Why did—?"

"—I kiss you?" the pinkette finished, her cheeks blushing slightly, "The same reason you kissed me, Itachi: love."

Albeit he wanted to know how long she harbored such feelings for him, all Itachi desired right now, right this second, was the feel and taste of her lips once more. So he kissed her again and again and again until physical passion and ardor took control and their bodies soon joined each other to become one.

After that fateful, loving day, they were no longer just two people living in the same house and raising Riku as friends.

They were now lovers.

"Shall we, too, rise forgetful from our sleep,
And shall my soul that lies within your hand
Remember nothing, as the blowing sand
Forgets the palm where long blue shadows creep
When winds along the darkened desert sweep?

Or would it still remember, tho' it spanned
A thousand heavens, while the planets fanned
The vacant ether with their voices deep?
Soul of my soul, no word shall be forgot,
Nor yet alone, beloved, shall we see

The desolation of extinguished suns,
Nor fear the void wherethro' our planet runs,
For still together shall we go and not
Fare forth alone to front eternity.

-Love And Death, Sara Teasdale

The assault came so abruptly that Itachi was the first one who sensed Madara's presence.

"Sakura! Riku! Get down!" he shouted, startling both lycans as they hit the deck along with him, their eyes wide open. Itachi never raised his voice and to hear him yell with such power was almost…surreal.

"Is it them, Itachi?" Sakura asked, holding Riku close to her as Itachi withdrew his katana from its scabbard. He nodded wordlessly and growl erupted from Sakura's throat, her eyes already changing shape while her teeth slowly began transforming into sharp, deadly canines. Madara and his men were going to be her chew toys once she was through with them.

"Riku, stay behind me. If the battle turns to ill, hide in the secret compartment where Itachi and I showed you, all right?"

The young boy nodded fiercely, his face pale with absolute fear and terror. "Okāsan…I'm frightened."

Giving her son a comforting, soft smile as they got up, Sakura squeezed his hand in a reassuring manner, saying, "So am I, Riku, so am I."

She then glanced over to Itachi, the second man to ever claim her love. Worry leapt into her heart, lodging itself quite painfully in her throat. Like Riku, she couldn't bear to lose him, not after that special night they had shared together, their passionate affinity and love finally being expressed through their bodies and souls. She was ready to begin anew with Itachi, move on, and continue living the life Sasori always wanted her to lead, even if it was with another man.

To watch him die at the hands of their enemies would be more than devastating. The notion would simply be inconceivable.

"Itachi," she whispered, affectionately placing a hand on his arm while her viridian eyes gazed up at him with concern and all the love in the world, "Please, be careful. I don't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose you either, Sakura," he answered back, his dusky orbs reflecting the same emotions back at her. He gave her hand a little squeeze and then grazed his lips against her mouth. The kiss was first light and soft, and suddenly becoming ardent, tender, and desperate all over. They wove their fingers into each other's hair, savoring their potentially last kiss with each other. The taste of Itachi still lingered on her lips when they parted and Itachi spared one final, loving glance at her before gracefully launching himself out of the shattered, splintered window and flourished his katana, ready to engage the enemy.

While in a blink of an eye, Sakura fully transformed into a lycan and began her campaign of maiming any henchman of Madara who dared so much as to even try to harm her son or prevent Itachi from reaching Madara and ending this madness once and for all.

"It is the end of all hope
To lose the child, the faith
To end all the innocence
To be someone like me
This is the birth of all hope
To have what I once had
This life unforgiven
It will end with a birth."

-End of All Hope, Nightwish

A light, gentle zephyr scattered itself over the battlefield, autumn leaves floated majestically all around, swirling and twirling about in the air like fragile, motley dancers. Their bright vivid colors of vermillion, golden yellow, and deep cerise paled in comparison to the vibrancy of the thick, garnet liquid that flowed so smoothly like water.

Two katanas clashed together viciously as the two Uchihas (one almost as old as time itself) dueled to the death. Itachi stared deep into the tenebrous depths of Madara's atrous orbs and found nothing but complete, utter insanity and bloodlust gleaming back at him. He was looking into the eyes of a madman, a man who forsook his humanity and immortal soul long ago in exchange for prestige and power beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

Madara became the very monster that he ordered his men to hunt and slay.

"So this is how it's going to be, Itachi?" spat Madara, his entire visage livid while his eyes flashed dangerously at Itachi, "Mere animals over me, your kin?"

"You were never family to me, Madara," Itachi responded tonelessly, deflecting another assailment from his former leader, "And neither was I to you. All you saw in me as another pawn to further your ambitions and goals." He first parried Madara's sword and then slashed diagonally at his ex-leader's face, who blocked the attack in return.

All of a sudden, Madara halted his relentless attacks, back-flipping out of range and landed on perfectly on his feet, a black smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Your father was the same way, Itachi," he began, that sinister sneer oozing out of his voice, "His death was an unfortunate but necessary part of our plans to instigate you to back to the Uchiha clan. I never esteemed that scheme would be all for naught." He then lunged at Itachi again and swung his katana around, barely missing Itachi's cheek by an inch. Itachi spun around and leapt out of harm's way, realization beginning to dawn over him.

"You're saying that the slaughter of my family…was all part of your wild scheme to bring me back to you?" Itachi said slowly, faint yet strong disbelief in his timbre, "Are you saying, Madara, that you are responsible for the murder of my parents…and Sasuke?"

"Guilty as charged," Madara replied almost gleefully, a manically gleam in his fathomless obsidian pupils. "Had you stayed with me, your father would have been so proud of you, Itachi."

Although not ounce of emotion appeared on the young Uchiha's face, a spark of rage and unwonted despisal flickered across his caliginous eyes, a harbinger for the grisly demise that was yet to come. Uttering nothing, he agilely charged at Madara, anticipating the block from the clan leader's katana right away. Itachi then swung his leg around and delivered a swift, sharp kick to Madara's side, causing the older man to stumble back for a few brief seconds. Seeing his opening, Itachi struck again, slashing and slicing his katana at the archaic Uchiha and blood splattered all over the place; on his pristine clothes, on the lethal blade of his sword, on his hands, and on his lightly fair features. A gruesome laceration on Madara's chest displayed Itachi's successful tactic but a sickeningly regaled smile fought its way back onto the madman's lips.

"Very good, Itachi," he rasped out, coughing up several crimson drops, "But you won't get so lucky next time."

With that said, he quickly changed the rhythm of his fighting style, putting Itachi on the defensive position yet again. Parrying and disengaging with his katana, Itachi managed to elude the more severe, deadly attacks of Madara while attempting to land some onsets of his own. He barely flinched when he felt the tip of Madara's katana kiss his ribs. Spinning out of reach, Itachi then narrowly missed being decapitated as a slight, gentle breeze of a katana soured over his head, cleaving through the air and ruffling his dark, long tresses. Small, shallow pants escaped Itachi and his chest heaved in and out with exertion.

"This ends here, Madara," Itachi spoke out slowly but coldly, "Today, this is where you die."

As if on cue, the wind abruptly stirred again as the two men blocked their swords against each other while golden, emerald, and orange leaves furiously and majestically gyrated around the two warriors, serving as a natural barrier to any outsiders who dared to interfere.

And so, the clash of the two Uchihas commenced once more.

"An angel face smiles to me
Under a headline of tragedy
That smile used to give me warmth
Farewell - no words to say
Beside the cross on your grave
And those forever burning candles.

Needed elsewhere
To remind us of the shortness of our time
Tears laid for them
Tears of love, tears of fear
Bury my dreams, dig up my sorrows
Oh, Lord why
The angels fall first."

-Angels Fall First, Nightwish

With a roar, Sakura snapped her fangs at her newest foe and clamped her jaws on his shoulder blade, promptly ripping the arm right of the man's socket. He let loose an ear-splitting scream, blood gushing and squirting out everywhere. Sakura tossed the arm aside and lunged at the bellowing man, silencing his cries once and for all by swiftly and brutally shredding his throat out.

Not too long after Madara's henchman had descended upon them, Sakura made sure Riku was concealed securely underneath the first floor, in the basement–created by Itachi himself–before launching herself into the sanguinary fray herself. Limbs were torn apart, heads rolled left and right, and soon, Sakura found her fur matted and caked with the blood and fluids of her victims. Yet the gore didn't bother her, she was use to it. All this violence was necessary; she had to unleash her ferocity to protect not only her son, Riku, but Itachi, her lover, as well.

The enemy's numbers dwindled and eventually, Sakura had defeated or mauled to death the remaining remnants of Madara's lackeys. Some decided to flee after realizing how vicious and fearsome Sakura was in her werewolf form and couldn't handle battling such a deadly, cunning creature. Once she was satisfied that the coast was clear and the last of her adversaries had been vanquished, Sakura then lopped towards the main battlefield, towards both Madara and Itachi.

She could only hope Itachi was still standing strong and had the upper hand in the combat. If he perished…she didn't how her heart will survive the blow.

As she reached the blood soaked, decimated meadow, Sakura witnessed with frozen horror as Madara's arm arced up and around, delivering a deep, severe laceration across Itachi's chest. From the copious amount of blood oozing out of the wound and the way he staggered, Sakura knew that gash was fatal.

She was going to lose Itachi.

"Caressed by the sharpest knife
I asked you to be my wife
Rays of the setting sun
Were my tears wept upon promises undone.

Come to me
Make me believe
To you and your love again.

Above the universe
Beneath the Great Eye
I shall desire you forevermore."

-Astral Romance, Nightwish

As if her heart shattered into a thousand, inscrutable pieces, Sakura unleashed a mournful, enraged howl, charging straight at Madara. She would maim him, butcher him, and rip that disgusting head of his right off his neck—

Just was Sakura was about aim for the kill, what betided next caught her by surprise. Instead of Itachi falling down to the ground, defeated and dying, he simply extended his katana forward and plunged the sword deep into a shocked Madara's ribs. Itachi then twisted the blade around, aiming the edge of the katana straight at his lungs and proceeded to puncture them. Madara's eyes widened, scarlet rivulets already trickling down his mouth, chin, and nose. Sakura halted dead in her tracks, watching the final scene play out between the two Uchihas. Madara sank to his knees, the agony overwhelming him while Itachi managed to remain on his feet. Sakura trotted up to him and changed back into her human form. She too wanted to be the last thing Madara saw before Death claimed him.

"That was for my family, Madara," Itachi voiced out in a hard, icy tone, his harsh display of emotions almost startling Sakura for a brief second, "And for attempting to kill Riku and Sakura. You will never harm another innocent ever again."

A black, loathing sneer contorted itself on Madara's aging features and with the last of his energy, he spat at the younger Uchiha. Utter malice blazed in his nigrine pools of contempt and notoriety.

"See you in Hell, Itachi!" he hissed, hacking up a fountain of blood before he released his last breath and flopped aimlessly into the bloody grass, glossy, lifeless eyes staring up at the darkened, vacant sky. Then, a solemn leaf, brown and torn, floated over Madara's corpse and landed neatly over his face, obscuring the world from his dead man's stare.

At last, the final battle was over and the vicious cycle of deceit, murder, hate, and injustice was at an end.

Sakura turned to Itachi, wrapping her arms around him as soon as she saw signs of him beginning to fall. She gingerly laid him down on the ground, cradling him in her arms. She so desperately wanted to believe that the grievous injury wasn't mortal and he would live to fight another day, that he would recover from the infliction and continue to live his life with her and Riku.

"Hang in there, Itachi," she whispered to him, feeling tears prickling her eyes, "I'll can clean this wound up and stitch you up in no time!" She tried to smile reassuringly at her lover but failed miserably. She could see the resignation in Itachi's orbs that he knew he was going to die.

"Sakura, don't," Itachi bade, reaching his hand out to cup her cheek, "The slash is too deep and I already lost too much blood from my battle with Madara. My death…it's inevitable."

"It shouldn't be!" cried out Sakura, choking on her words while tiny crystal drops streamed down her face, "Why now, when we finally have come so far? You can't leave Riku–you can't leave me, Itachi!"

"I won't," he replied firmly yet affection was interlaced within his voice and his eyes seemed so tranquil, so kind now. "No matter what happens, I shall always watch over you and Riku, Sakura. I will always love you. Never forget that."

His hand then fell down to his side, verdant eyes locking onto fading melanic eyes as Sakura silently lamented her lover's impending demise. Her dreams of marriage, giving Riku siblings to play with, the two of them growing old together, would die along with this stoic, taciturn, but noble warrior. He would carry her heart to his grave.

"I will never forget you, Itachi, or our love," she told him tearfully, bending over to give him a final kiss, "I shall always love you, Itachi. You are my second and last love." Their lips then touched.

In their kiss of farewell, Sakura felt the last breathes of Itachi being poured into her soul. When she withdrew herself from the bittersweet kiss, she beheld the ghostly pallor on Itachi's visage, the listless expression in his coal-like orbs, his body rigid and stiff.

Seeing her lover dead and gone, the onrush of tears were renewed and Sakura buried herself into Itachi's chest, letting the colorful autumn leaves fall where they may all around them.

Later, as the days grew shorter and nights became longer, Sakura would soon discover herself carrying her and Itachi's the future son. He would be a lad with vivid green eyes, ivory skin, and long, smooth charcoal hair darker than a starless sky. She would name him Takuya and together, with his brother, they would protect the world from evil and monsters who preyed on humanity while defending the innocent, human or not.

And it would be countless of years later, when both sons would return to the tombstones of their fathers to bury their mother in-between them. The funeral would be on another cool, crisp day in autumn. Leaves would fall from their respected branches and littered the ground, once stained with blood, in a motley array of golds, reds, greens, and oranges.

It was during the fall when Sakura had lost her two lovers. And on that chilling, cool season, she would be finally be reunited with them both.

"I have come to bury Love
Beneath a tree,
In the forest tall and black
Where none can see.

I shall put no flowers at his head,
Nor stone at his feet,
For the mouth I loved so much
Was bittersweet.

I shall go no more to his grave,
For the woods are cold.
I shall gather as much of joy
As my hands can hold.

I shall stay all day in the sun
Where the wide winds blow, -
But oh, I shall cry at night
When none will know."

-Buried Love, Sara Teasdale

Color Glossary:

Cinnabar- red

Albicant- white

Nigrine- black

Atrous- jet black

Melanic- black; very dark

General Glossary:

(1) Otōsan- father

(2) Okāsan- mother

(3) Kuroi Seigi- means "black justice"

(4) Oji- uncle

(5) Wakizashi- a short sword that's about 1.5-2 feet in length.

So there you go. My Halloween treat for you all. I do believe my brain was about to spontaneously combust because I was running out of time and I had other works to focus on, such as other fanfics and college homework. Let's hope I do well on my German quiz on Monday—and my fencing tournament, which is on (wait for it…) Halloween. *crosses fingers*

~~SpeedDemon315