A/N: The first one-shot I'll be posting here, through there will be more of those one-shots (or two-shots in some cases) and not all of them are going to be this depressingly sad, I promise. I've actually first written this in Polish, but the original was much shorter and even had a different title. The version you can read now is the effect of two days of restless writing, translating and editing, and I hope you'll like it.
I'm going to be posting a few other one-shots (some that I've written a while ago as well as new ones), but I would also like to get some prompts/requests from you. You can submit a prompt/request here via reviews/PM or you can do so on my tumblr page – my name there is lossie92.
Enjoy!

Summary: "We both knew what a big lie it was, but that's what good wives do – they stay at home and they wait, and they pray, and they are strong no matter what."
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: K+
Other info: non-massacre AU, character death, very sad

THAT'S WHAT GOOD WIVES DO

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."
-Norman Cousins

My mother-in-law always said that the Uchiha women should be strong and never succumb to their weaknesses.

"Our destiny is marked with pain, Sakura. For the longest time we've been losing everything that was ever dear to us and we've learnt how to live with this curse. If we ever decided to give up, our clan would undoubtedly lose its strength. Never forget that we are the foundation of this family. We are daughter, we are sisters, we are mothers, we are wives and we are friends, but we are never weak."

Mikoto's words reverberated through my mind every time I wanted to cry or when I was simply too tired to even think about my family, and I just wanted to scream my pain and frustration high into the heavens.

It happened too often to count.

When I've agreed to marry Uchiha Itachi, I did it out of love. He was the best man every woman could hope for and he loved me too, I know it. We were insanely happy together, so after two years of going steady, we decided to take the final step. Of course my parents and my team were against it.

"You won't find happiness," they repeated over and over again, but I was too stubborn and too in love to pay them any mind. What could be so bad, I thought back then, about leaving behind my life as a shinobi? Getting used to spending all my time at home would prove to be tough at the beginning, but I was adaptable. I knew I could live with that if it meant I would get to spend eternity by Itachi's side. I was going to be the best wife, I just knew it.

Maybe I should have listened to them.

After all I've ended up questioning my decision to say a yes and an I-do may times throughout our marriage.

When the clansmen whispered behind my back, still unhappy with their clan heir's choice of bride. When I took every fake smile and unkind word, masked thoughtfully under a thick layer of social pleasantries, because it was apparently rude to call the clan matriarch a whore to her face, but not behind her back. When the only words I seemed to hear, while pregnant with our first child, were "We hope it's a boy", as if it wasn't even remotely important for the child to be born healthy and whole, because a good wife should give her husband a son.

Giving birth to a healthy baby boy put a stop to majority of my problems, but it didn't make my life any easier.

Itachi was still an active shinobi. There was a chance, however slim it might have been, that he would not return home one day. I lived with that possibility as I took care of our firstborn and the house, and then the twins I've given birth to not even a full year after mothering Naoki. There was nothing to do for me, apart from being a perfect mother and a perfect housewife. Itachi once asked me if I wanted to return to being a medic, but I knew just as well as he did that the clan elders would never allow it, so I shook my head and said that I was happy here at home.

We both knew what a big lie it was, but that's what good wives do – they stay at home and they wait, and they pray, and they are strong no matter what.

Every other day I watched my husband get ready for a mission, fearing that this one would turn out to be his last. I observed with growing nervousness how he gathered his weapons and scrolls, how he put on his vest and sandals, how he smiled at me and our children with a promise to return home safely as soon as he could.

And I waved goodbye to him with our three sons by my side, thinking stupidly that I have nothing to fear. He always returned, after all. A little worse for wear, but he did, and I believed it his "always" more and more every day. We welcomed him with happiness while thanking whoever has been listening for bringing him back to us when so many others never had a chance to do so.

In those short moments I could forget about everyday challenges and my loneliness. When I was in his arms, sipping tea or reading a book, I was the happiest I could ever wish to be. He loved and cherished me. In his presence, I always felt like I meant something to at least one person and it gave me strength to live. In me, he saw a woman who has been a kunoichi and who has saved lives, but also a human being, not a tool or a piece of furniture that can be moved whenever you want it out of the way without a care in the world.

Knowing that Itachi loved me, I was able to get used to our goodbyes. Somehow along the way they've stopped being unusual. I was sure that he would return. He always did and he always kept his promises. Always. Even though there were a few close calls, Death has never claimed him. She gave him days, weeks and years to say his good-mornings and goodbyes.

I was suffocating in the walls of our home, but I could breath when they were there with me – my husband and my sons. Our children grew and we watched them with fascination as they took their first steps, spoke their first words and threw their first kunais. It was mesmerizing. And deep down I wanted it to last for eternity.

I'm not sure I appreciated enough the time that has been given to us. Truth be told, I never thought about how lucky we were, strangely certain that our "always" would last forever.

One day he didn't come back.

I waited for him for the entire evening and then for the whole night with my hand on my once again round stomach. I couldn't even think about the possibility that something bad might have happened, because it had never happened before, so why should it now?

I watched as the sky got darker and how the stars, one by one, appeared on it. I listened to the humming of the trees and howling of the wind, and I was still patient and somewhat sure that Itachi would walk through the front doors of our house any minute now. That he would smile at me as he always did and then he would call for the children. I was so sure I would hear a joyous "Otou-san!" in a minute or so, followed by a tale of what Naoki had been up to today and how he was doing with his studies.

But come morning I was still surrounded by silence and he never showed up.

I didn't go to sleep at all that night, filled to the brim with worry.

Around midday Shisui appeared at the door with a scroll in his hand. One look at his guilt-stricken face was enough for me to lost balance and fall to my knees. He was right beside me the very next moment. He gave me the scroll and as I unrolled it, tears started to slide down my face. My hands were shaking so badly, I couldn't even see what was written on that scroll, but in the heart of my hearts I already knew it.

"I'm so sorry, Sakura…," Shisui said quietly as he held me. "It happened so suddenly… I just… He protected us, our team, but he didn't… I'm so sorry."

We sat there crying in the hallway for Kami knows how long as my world fell apart bit by bit all round me. In one single moment I lost a part of myself that had made me strong and had forced me to never give up, even when I so desperately wanted to do just that. Everything was crumbling. My heart was in shatters and some pieces of it were missing. I was truly broken.

They have taken him away from me – the person that I loved so much I was willing to leave my previous life behind just so I could become a glorified baby-machine slash housewife at the mercy of the family that has never showed me even an ounce of respect.

His death was my undoing.

Naoki cried for the entire night and the twins cried too, even though they were too young to fully understand what was going on. For the first time I witnessed my brave little boy talking in his sleep as he begged his father to come back.

"Daddy, don't leave me…!" echoed throughout the house, only to struck me with so much power and such force I almost couldn't breathe.

I wanted so badly for it to be enough to bring him back to life, but there was nothing that could be done.

His cold body had been washed and dressed in a fine kimono. They laid him down in a coffin in one of the rooms of the main mansion so people could say their final goodbyes and condole with his family.

I tried to not look at him, I tried to not cry and I tried to not show any weakness.

I was the head of this family now and I needed to earn their respect, even though I've never wanted it to begin with.

The funeral was a quiet affair, just like the man we were burying. Nobody cried, nobody lamented and nobody begged for it to turn out to be just a bad dream. Nobody called for him, for the perfect shinobi who shouldn't have been a shinobi in the first place and who had died the death of a hero. That's what everyone said as they hugged me and wished me all the best in the world – that he had died as a hero. And they called me the widow of a hero, but in truth I was the widow of an idiot who got himself killed before it was his time to go.

I looked as they lowered his urn into the ground, I put flowers on his fresh grave and I said the prayer without shedding even one tear and without saying too much. I did it all with a numb heart and unfeeling look in my eyes, and with a mask of cold indifference set firmly in place of my once bright smile.

Over the years I've changed so much I wasn't able to recognize myself anymore. From Haruno Sakura who had been bubbly, full of life and always smiling I transformed into Uchiha Sakura who was cold, tired and dead inside.

I was the perfect wife, the perfect mother and the perfect disaster. I loved and I cherished, and then I broke into pieces.

But that's what good wives do, you know? They stay at home and they wait, and they pray, and they are strong no matter what. And then they change, they lose themselves and sometimes they die a little bit day by day, quiet in their suffering.