A/N: Apologies for the late update but I've made it extra long to make up for it. Finally, Itachi makes his first appearance!

Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own Naruto.

Chapter 2: Judas

Crack!

A streak of lightning crossed the deep cloud-strewn sky, illuminating the small room with its silvery light and highlighting a number of misshapen objects, the sharp edges of the dresser and draws, bathing the occupied bed in its sickly glow. Sakura screwed up her eyes against the unwanted glare and curled instinctively against the thin blanket. In the corner her duvet lay in an unceremonious heap, the product of her last ditch attempt to cool her fevered skin. The air was stiflingly hot and humid despite her earlier attempts to coax a non-existent breeze through her opened windows.

It had taken all of a few minutes after Kakashi had slammed the door for Sakura to regain the use of her limbs. Only the sensation of cold coffee slopping over her tilted mug effectively served to wake her from her stupor. With awareness came action. Clothes, kunai, shuriken and medicine were thrown into her little rucksack unwanted abandon, the very seams of which threatened to rip in her haste to cram in every last item. Halfway through she paused – teeth dragging across the skin of her lips in anxiety – and began to unpack. A couple of minutes later she changed her mind again. And then again. An hour later her nails were reduced to little more than tattered shreds and she was still in two minds about leaving. Exhausted, she caved to the demands of her body and collapsed on the bed.

A howling wind gripped the corners of the building as Sakura tossed and turned. She stuffed her head into her pillow, trying to block out the incessant sound of pebble-sized raindrops as they peppered her roof. The summer storm raged on, sending her wooden shutters reeling against the window, adding to the cacophony of noise.

Bang! Bang! Ba-

A strong, pale hand reached out to grasp the green shutter, ceasing its cyclical motion. Sakura knit her cerise eyebrows together unconsciously and then turned over, burrowing deeper into the thin blanket. Her mind was more concerned with simple pleasures such as the soft pillow against her head, dismissing the irregular pattern of noise easily in her dream-like state.

A dark silhouette perched silently upon the window sill. Tepid rainwater dripped from the sodden black garments as his eyes peeped out from underneath a dark hood, never leaving the sleeping form on the bed. After a moment's pause, he slid noiselessly into the room. The apparent grace with which the man moved – tempered only by instinctive caution – was an ability that could only be achieved through years of dedication and the careful honing of his skills: these were the trademarks of a shinobi, and a skilled one at that. With practiced movements, he drew a kunai from his pouch intending to make quick work of the defenceless kunoichi. Perhaps if he had been a man that favoured emotion over unswerving obedience he may have paused, plagued with sudden doubt, his hand perhaps shaking with unsuppressed nerves. But as a member of Root he was immune to such human weakness. Orders were orders. No exceptions.

Quick as a flash, the man leapt towards the sleeping figure, kunai flickering dangerously in the half-light. Jade eyes snapped open. Mere inches from the pale, exposed skin of her neck the man cried out in pain. The blow aimed for her jugular glanced aside and nicked the smooth flesh of her shoulder instead. Stifling a cry, the newly awaked medic stared at the intruder in alarm.

A few mind-numbing seconds ticked by in which Sakura struggled to understand the situation. Her eyes travelled from her clenched fist – which had carved a path through the man's insides like butter – to the stranger on her bed and then, to her darkened room. Comprehension dawned and she reeled backwards, adrenaline thudding uncomfortably in her ears as her eyes alighted upon the familiar leaf insignia tied to the man's arm. It seemed almost incredible how such a familiar symbol – one that had previously elicited pride and warmth inside her – now brought bile to her throat. Unable to meet the dead man's glassy-eyed stare, she kicked the sorry corpse to the floor disgustedly. A huge, gaping rent in his chest indicated where his heart had been crushed in the attack.

With shaking hands, whether from anger or fear Sakura did not know, she peeled off her pyjamas, revolted by the hot, sticky blood coating the threadbare material. It had been pure instinct that saved her, she realised as rifled through her untidy draws for a black, nondescript outfit usually reserved for covert missions of which were few and far between. She wondered vaguely whether to pack her entire medical kit before deciding it was too bulky. She also wondered whether the attack was an isolated incident or that it was as Kakashi had prophesised; Danzou was cleansing Konoha of all those he deemed a threat.

With an impending sense of dread she crept over to the open window, feet swishing softly across the bare floorboards and peeped down. The street was deserted. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips but it was short-lived. Not two seconds later a familiar clash of metal striking metal reached the medic's ears, alerting her to a number of small battles that had broken out all over Konoha. As she watched, the walls of a building several streets away crumbled like bread, consumed by the night before she could even draw breath. She gripped the wooden sill; face stricken, eyes struggling to pierce the inky blackness that gripped the village. It was happening! It was really happening!

Almost automatically, Sakura recalled the conversation that had occurred only a few hours ago. Kakashi had informed her that the meeting would take place tomorrow evening which could mean only one thing. They had been betrayed. In order for Danzou to take countermeasures against the plan he had to have been forewarned. The medic took a sharp intake of breath as she contemplated the possibilities; either they had not been nearly as careful as they thought and their actions had been noticed by ANBU or someone in their midst had betrayed them.

No. She immediately rejected the latter, refusing to consider that someone she believed to be her friend had sold them out to the Hokage. If she couldn't trust them, she reasoned, she couldn't trust anyone. The rumble of an exploding tag as it detonated a couple of streets away brought the shell-shocked medic to her senses. She had already lingered too long.

There was barely any time for regret as Sakura sent one last parting glance at the flat that she had considered to be her home for the past two years and slipped out into the night. A sheet of cold, merciless rain bombarded the kunoichi upon relinquishing the shelter of the doorway but she suppressed a grimace. The small discomfort rain caused was trivial compared to the pain of watching shinobi from her beloved village fight amongst themselves at the whim of a selfish, egotistical maniac.

Concealing her chakra as best she could, the pink-haired medic mounted the roof of the nearest building. It was risky taking the preferred highway for most ninja but it was also the fastest way to traverse the village and Sakura was determined to reach her best friend before the others. She put on an extra spurt of speed as she ran pell-mell across the slate roofs, sandals clacking madly in her haste. From a distance, the third district appeared calm and quiet but Sakura knew that in a few minutes, the madness that infected the rest of the village would spill into this seemingly oblivious area, tearing streets and lives apart as effectively as a crazed animal on a rampage. No one would escape this night unscathed.

Muttering fervent thanks to whatever god allowed her passage to Ino's unharmed and unchallenged, Sakura ran down the last stretch of the street and skidded to a halt before her friend's door, splattering mud all over the drowned flowerpots that littered the porch. She glanced up at the dark windows, not even bothering to spare the poor, abused plants even the most cursory of glances and rapped on the door, hard.

"Ino!"

No answer.

"Ino!" She hammered on the door frantically, ignoring the way the pine groaned and bent inwards with each fist fall. "Ino, wake up!"

From atop the Hokage's tower, a single man witnessed the product of his own making in silence. A clash of metal, the rumble of brick and mortar collapsing, a flurry of small explosions, an agonised shriek of pain: every sound grated sharply against his carefully attuned ears. Yet he bore these discomforts without complaint. He felt it would be disrespectful to ignore the price for his newly acquired position. It was all for the sake of the clan, he reminded himself softly. For the clan.

The dark, threatening clouds that had begun to amass over Konoha several hours ago completed the ominous scene. Dense, swirling moisture blanketed the heavens, creating an elaborate cage that subconsciously worked to shatter any illusions the fugitives harboured for escape. The man watched the scene impassively, or so it would seem were it not for the way his fingers clenched involuntarily in silent protest. And then there were his eyes; great silvery disks that mirrored the raging tempest outside as he fought to avert his gaze. He found he couldn't. He was transfixed by his own horror.

He was unsure why Danzou had offered him a front row seat to the massacre for which he was responsible. Perhaps so he could understand the cost of restabilising Konoha and for the Hokage to gauge his reaction and the depth of his commitment. Throughout the ordeal, the silver-eyed man had felt the shrewd gaze of the Hokage boring into his back: an unpleasant sensation yet he refused to flinch. It was only a simple matter of passing a test. No different from his days in the academy, he reasoned.

"Neji". The sharp, clipped tones startled him out of his musings and he glanced away from the open window, almost surprised to find the dark, spacious chambers behind him. They were easily twice the size of Tsu-, the former Hokage's office, he amended silently. Solemn black drapes which proudly bore the symbol of fire adorned the otherwise barren walls while white flames danced from two monstrous, carved bowls, standing like sentries at the far end of the room.

"Yes, Hokage-sama?" he replied, automatically slipping into the servile manner which was expected in the Hokage's presence. He resolutely remained in eye-contact with the heavily scarred man, determined not to let even a flicker of unease betray his impassive stance.

"I think you've watched that window long enough," Danzou replied, his face cracking into the barest of smiles which alarmingly enhanced his haggard appearance. "Such vermin are undeserving of our attention".

He motioned for the Byakugan-user to approach the huge, clawed mahogany desk which the Hokage favoured for its straight, hard, disciplinary lines and dominating presence. The very notion of disobeying was furthest from Neji's mind as he recognised the suggestion for what it was; a command. Rather, he devoted the whole of his remaining wit to divine the true purpose of being summoned here, if not to witness the cleansing of the Hidden Leaf.

"This purge has dealt a fatal blow to the rebel faction," Danzou continued satisfactorily as he reached for a silver platter of plums perched on the edge of the burnished desk. "Those fools who stick stubbornly to the old order won't dare oppose my new legislation after tonight. This village has been soft far too long".

"What of those outside the village?" Neji ventured to ask. "The ones who abandoned the village the night you gained leadership?"

It was common knowledge that Naruto lead the band of deserters, however Neji refrained from naming the Hokage's greatest adversary for fear of upsetting him.

"Once they learn what has occurred, they will have no choice but to act," Danzou replied smoothly. A ghost of a smirk settled over his lined features as leaned back in his gilt chair and considered the prospect. "They will be outraged over the death of their family members and friends. They will become rash and foolish. Their leader will most likely order an attack against Konoha but we will be ready for them".

"But sir, how can you be certain-?"

"I am not certain!" Danzou snapped back and Neji winced, realising too late that he had made a fatal mistake in overstepping his bounds as a subordinate. By questioning the Hokage's judgement he had undermined his authority. Fortunately, the night's events appeared to have put Danzou in a favourable mood for upon hearing the Hyuuga's stammered apologies he simply waved them aside, apparently content to gloat over the inevitable success of the purge.

Neji watched the man with inscrutable eyes, following the path of his fingers as they closed around his fourth plum. There was something rather perverse about the way Danzou dined on the bruised fruit with the pleasure of an indulged man he reflected silently, thoughts full of disdain. Automatically he averted his gaze in an attempt to hide his disgust for the Hokage's blatant show of indifference. He couldn't help but liken the dark juices that smeared the platter to the blood of those he had once counted friends and allies staining the streets below. Idly, he wondered if it would permanently affect his view of the place he'd always considered home. Perhaps he would never sleep soundly again knowing what had befallen Konoha had been entirely of his own doing. No. He was not entirely to blame. It was those traitors who dared to oppose Danzou's regime that had brought this upon the entire village.

It was their fault, so why did he feel a hint of regret at the very thought of their deaths?

"What's going on?" Ino murmured sleepily as she allowed her uncooperative left arm to be guided through the sleeve of her top by her adamant, pink-haired best friend. She stifled a yawn and glanced a second time at the luminous digital numbers on her bedside clock. It stated clearly that the time was 3.14AM. Certainly not a decent time for anything other than sleeping, she thought irately as her weary mind began to formulate reasons for why Sakura had turned up on her doorstep at such an ungodly hour, rain-drenched and sans makeup.

"No time to explain," Sakura replied distractedly. Having completed forcing Ino into her usual attire, she chucked her a newly-packed mission pouch. Ino caught it bewilderedly. "We leave now".

"What's going on?" The blonde repeated a little more urgently this time, sensing her friend's agitation by the way she unconsciously wrung her hands and jumped at small noises. Alarmed, she reached out to grab the medic's arm and perhaps shake some sense into her but Sakura backed away, her jade eyes round with anxiety.

"Sakura, wait!" Ino dodged the clutter that besieged the stairs as she attempted to follow her friend, cursing as she stubbed her toe on the corner of a large book. She caught up with Sakura at the front door, rubbing her toe bemusedly. She knew her bad habits would come to bite her in the ass someday, she thought wryly. Upon seeing that the lock had her friend stymied, she leaned over to assist her in opening the heavy front door with a sigh.

"Saku-," she cut herself off mid-sentence as the pink-haired kunoichi grabbed her open hand and darted out into the rain, leaving the blonde no choice but to follow. She winced immediately upon coming into contact with the icy barrage that soaked her clothes through to the bone in a matter of seconds.

It was almost impossible to see through the virtual monsoon so for a while Ino concentrated on the rhythmic pounding of their feet, placing all her faith in the chilled hand that urged her onwards at a relentless pace. Innumerable questions buzzed around the medic's head but she dared not voice any of them when she barely had enough air to breathe let alone talk. She considered pulling Sakura to a stop and pelting her for answers but the worried expression she'd seen upon her friend's face stopped her. Something serious was going on Ino surmised, for once not delving into her own brand of sarcastic humour to explain away the kunoichi's behaviour.

As they ran, Ino began to take stock of their surroundings and realised with slight trepidation that they were taking a roundabout route through the village as though Sakura wanted to circumnavigate something. She almost commented on it but at that very moment, a resounding crash – which had both the medics reeling around in shock – echoed a mere street away, followed by issued orders and the unmistakable sound of shuriken whistling towards a target. Ino was no longer dragging on Sakura's hand.

"What's happening?" She pressed frantically. All thoughts of remaining silent vanished in the aftermath of the attack. She wanted to know why Sakura seemed so afraid, of why they were running away from a battle instead of into it and why they were leaving the parameters of the village. "I need to know, Sakura".

The blonde waited for Sakura's answer expectantly, oblivious to the fact that they had halted in the middle of an isolated ramshackle street and the frightened rabbit look in her friend's eyes. Sakura only shook her head and pressed her lips together anxiously.

"I know," she replied at least having the conscience to look contrite. Her eyes darted towards the nearby rooftops as she spoke. "It's just... I don't want to be the one to explain. It's too..." But apparently whatever it was Sakura couldn't say and she amended herself by saying, "Look, I'll explain everything later if I have to but right now we should get out of here!"

Ino wasn't sure whether to believe her.

"No," she said obstinately, deciding to cut the crap. It was such an inadequate response to all that had happened so far that she couldn't help but protest. "Not until you-"

A deafening roar drowned out the rest of her words as the wall to their right exploded. Brick and mortar rained down upon the two stunned shinobi who had barely enough wit to scramble out of the way. Their ears rang with an undetectable buzzing from the force of the shock and brick dust threatened to smoother their airways.

"Ino, get down!" Sakura warned, pulling her unresponsive friend behind a partially demolished brick wall. The blonde suppressed the urge to sneeze as she inadvertently inhaled a cloud of fine particles that had not yet settled. Her friend's green, cat-like eyes narrowed to slits as she squinted through the dust. Two dark silhouettes appeared on the edge of their vision. Sakura's fingers curled instinctively as she eyed the unknown men while Ino silently unhooked a kunai from her belt. Both waited with baited breath.

"Who are they?" Ino mouthed when Sakura chanced to look in her direction.

A small frown creased her brow as she had trouble deciphering exactly what the pink-haired medic whispered back.

"What?"

Straining her ears she leant forward, knees sinking into the uncovered, scarred earth. Intent upon scouring the area now that the dust had settled, Sakura took a moment to answer. Her jade eyes took in the empty street and to her relief it was completely devoid of the shadowy figures that had descended upon it only a moment ago. She wished she could have said for certain that it had been a trick of the light that made their faces so deceptively white – as though they were wearing the white masks of ANBU – but she couldn't. Unable to believe their luck, it was a while before she remembered the question.

"ANBU," she said distractedly as she rose fluidly from her crouched position behind the wall and prepared to move on. Automatically she flexed her well-worn leather gloves and began to stride away briskly, eager to move on.

Ino stared after her, eyes widening in bewilderment. She hadn't the faintest clue what was going on. At first she'd assumed that an unknown enemy had attacked the village and that they had been summoned to attend to wounded shinobi in a safe building away from the fighting. However, her friend's agitated manner and uncharacteristic behaviour had tipped her off to the fact that something stranger was at work here. Frowning she studied the information, allowing the hidden pieces of the jigsaw to fall into place. She let out an audible gasp as her brain reached the only logical conclusion. The only reason they would flee from members of ANBU: the Hokage had branded them all as traitors.

Whether he knew the identities of those who played an active role in the resistance she did not know. Perhaps even showing a slight disinclination to the new regime was enough and Ino had certainly not troubled to keep her voice down on certain matters concerning the village. But in any case she'd never participated in any harebrained schemes to topple the Hokage. She hadn't been serious when she'd joked to Sakura about leaving the village, she thought dismayed. She made a mental note to be more careful what she wished for in future.

And when she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, they did. The two dark shapes from before – or at least she assumed they were the same –dropped smoothly onto the waterlogged street before them, barring their escape route.

"Oh you just love contradicting me, don't you?" Ino scowled up at the relentless downpour that thundered over their heads.

She took up her familiar stance with a sigh, noticing that Sakura was already halfway towards the first one with a chakra-laden fist. Smirking at such crude methods, Ino targeted the left figure who appeared content to watch his comrade face off against the pink-haired kunoichi. It struck her then how very small they were.

Taking advantage of the second shinobi's distraction, Ino made a split-second decision to risk entering the shinobi's mind. She was used to discerning the subtle complexities and personalities of people's minds and so it came with some shock that this particular mind was so uncomplicated and naive. Another troubling factor was the ease at which she gained control of the mind. Either she was improving or this particular opponent was extremely inept at defending themselves. A slither of unease ran the length of her spine. He was supposed to be ANBU!

She blinked and stumbled as the contact was broken. Sakura was standing over what had been her opponent a second before, a look of revulsion on her face.

"They were children," she whispered, fighting back tears. "Just children".

Ino shuddered and averted her eyes. She did not want to see their faces. Sakura appeared unable to move, still staring at the two huddled figures in the dirt. Her eyes were red.

"Let's just get out of here," Ino suggested shakily. She tugged on Sakura's limp arm anxiously. "We can regret what happened later".

Sakura nodded slowly and turned away from the disturbing scene. She wiped a couple of tears on her sleeve when she thought her friend wasn't looking. An intense feeling of white-hot fury swept over the blonde as she considered the lengths Danzou would go to in order to secure his precious village. How dare he, she raged inwardly. How dare he enrol children into his army for the sole purpose of swelling the ranks! He was sending them to their deaths and he knew it! Her loathing of the man increased, if it were possible.

So intent on what they had just experienced, neither Sakura nor Ino noticed a third figure sneak up behind them. The soft squelching of mud echoed off the blank-faced houses and Ino turned around instinctively, just as the unseen assailant was about to sink his kunai into her exposed flesh. Horrified she raised her arms protectively, expecting at any moment to feel the metal's keen bite.

But it never came.

Warily, she opened her eyes. The black-garbed figure was poised in front of her, holding the kunai up above his head like a dagger. For one wild moment she thought he was frozen with fear. Then she spied thin unnatural black shadows that locked his figure into place and understood.

"Shikamaru?" She croaked disbelievingly.

"Of course, as soon as I realised what was going on I rushed straight to Chouji's house," Shikamaru related as they ran down the darkened streets. "He was already in conflict with several members of ANBU but they hadn't counted on my arrival".

"Did you see anyone else on the way here?" Sakura asked desperately, though she rather dreaded the answer.

"No," Shikamaru sighed heavily. "We'll only know the true number of how many survived when we reach the barrier. Whoever staged the attack left several gaping holes in the plan. If a member of the Nara clan had orchestrated it, I'm sure it'd have gone much more smoothly but I suppose Danzou has enough sense not to trust us. Pity really," he smirked though it was clear from his tone that he was not really amused.

"If only we had the same good sense," Sakura remarked sardonically. "Then perhaps we'd have spotted a traitor in our midst".

Shikamaru considered her for a second, taking in her grim manner before answering. "That would have been impossible. Unless we were to monitor every member of the resistance, we would have no way of discovering a traitor. Even then, the ones doing the monitoring would have to be under the same scrutiny," he let out an audible sigh. "The time it would have taken was astronomical. It just wasn't practical".

"So basically, you're saying there's no way to find out who it was?" she asked, frustration seeping into her tones.

"I never said that," the dark-haired jounin corrected her. "I have some theories. However the only way we'll know for sure is by finding out if anyone stayed in the village after the attack. Of course, it's possible that the traitor could leave with us to avoid arousing suspicion".

"That means it could be anyone!" Sakura replied irately. "Who do your theories include?"

Shikamaru chose not to answer. A quick glance his way told her that he had halted a few paces back, staring at something in the distance. She realised he hadn't even heard her. Following his line of sight, she too saw what it was he was looking at.

They had reached the edge of the barrier.

One brief glance told her all she needed to know: the barrier was intact. Gazing through it, Sakura could see the faint outline of tree tops strangely distorted through the transparent lens. For one absurd moment she rather envied the green, deciduous trees solely for the fact that they were outside the barrier and she was not. She had only seen it once before and like last time; it elicited similar feelings of confinement and impotence.

"How will we get through?" Ino asked anxiously.

"Hopefully Sai will be there to open it," Shikamaru answered. He failed to mention what would happen if he wasn't.

Sakura discreetly crossed her fingers as they approached the barrier, on the lookout for the pale face she knew so well.

There was a small crowd around its edge and as they neared, Sakura emitted a shriek as she recognised them. Familiar faces such as Iruka, Kiba, TenTen and many others besides jumped out at her under the pale moonlight. There were more than she'd hoped for: at least thirty of them stood crowded around the thin profile of Sai who had the palm of his hand placed flat against the barrier, a look of deep concentration written over his stark-white features.

In her haste, she never noticed the bloodstained fabric of many of her comrades' clothes nor the signs that a great battle had taken place just minutes ago. She spared no thought for the huddled limp figures that lay piled unceremoniously in the dirt. All she could focus on was the thought that they were almost free, that Sai would release the barrier and then they would march as one to the hideout of Konoha's missing nin. Somewhere out there beyond the borders of Konoha.

She was half-way across to the motionless figure when the alarm rang.

"Attack! We're under attack!"

Sakura pivoted in the direction of the shout, pink locks whipping across her face as they were caught in an oncoming wind. Irritatedly, she pushed the wet strands out of her eyes just in time to spot a volley of shuriken which were launched in their general vicinity. She sidestepped them easily; squinting against the heavy sheet of rain for more projectiles and instead sighting the first wave of ninja descend upon their poorly-constructed defence. Within seconds of engaging the faceless leaf shinobi, she lost track of everything but her enemies. Dodge, kick, block, kick, punch: Sakura fell into an instinctive routine which comprised of action and reaction. There was no time to think. No time to reflect that her opponents were perhaps people she had met on the street, neighbours or colleagues. She knew as well as they did that it was kill or be killed and Sakura was not ready to die just yet.

When Sai finally broke the barrier, it wasn't soon enough in her opinion. An extra battalion of shinobi had just arrived and they were hard pressed to protect the ex-Root member from enemy missiles. She sent a last well-aimed kick into the chest of her opponent and scrambled up the muddied mound to the small gap in the barrier. Her legs pumped furiously as she sprinted towards the small gap in the barrier – barely wide enough for two grown men to fit through – and joined the small queue jostling and pushing frantically to get through.

Before she knew it she had passed through the small arch and had breathed her first lungful of fresh, unpolluted air. But there was no time to stop and revel in the newfound freedom. Already swarms of black-garbed men were streaming out of the narrow gap in the village's defences intent on pursuing the so-called-traitors across immeasurable distances. They were not out of the woods yet.

Somehow she found Ino amongst the muddle of fleeing shinobi and together they set off towards the border of the Fire country, where they hoped they would be safe.

Three days later.

Itachi Uchiha twirled a kunai absentmindedly around his index finger, more out of habit than anything and glanced around the bar without really seeing anything. The stools to his left and right were suspiciously vacant but perhaps that was not surprising given his current mood and indeed most of the customers appeared to be giving him a wide berth. His dark, brooding gaze and mercenary-like apparel gave most villagers the distinct impression that he wished to remain undisturbed.

Much of this was lost on him however as he mulled over the events of the past few months in which – after believing he had done everything he could to ensure that his brother became the shinobi he could not – he found that it had all been for nothing. Instead of using his newfound power to eliminate Madara Uchiha, Sasuke had ignored his sacrifice and joined forces with the madman. Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply. Perhaps if he had been there he could have done something to separate Sasuke from his greatest adversary but funnily enough being dead had prevented him from doing so.

What's done is done, he reminded himself for the thousandth time. The past could not be changed; therefore it would not do to dwell on such things at every opportunity as he inevitably did whenever he stopped for the night, having little better to do than twiddle his thumbs all evening.

"Sir, I suggest you order something or leave".

Itachi glanced up to see a surly, unshaven man eye him mistrustfully from over the counter. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was not able to sit out the rest of the evening in relative peace and that he'd better order something quick or risk the indomitable wrath of the bartender, God forbid. His lips quirked up into a rare smile as he studied the collection of liquor behind the counter with a novice's eye.

Almost immediately, his eye alighted upon a familiar bottle behind the counter and, because he was disinclined to the idea of staring at the vast collection bemusedly for the next five minutes, he ordered the bottle.

It was Sake – one of Kisame's favourites, he remembered with a touch of nostalgia. It was an age-old tradition for the shark-man to spend a night down at the nearest bar the night after a mission and squander his pay on drink. The shark had a formidable reputation for "celebrating" as he so articulately dubbed it. In fact, Itachi was positive that Kisame had invented the term "to drink like a fish". He was infamous throughout many bars in the Rain country and many others besides. Itachi sometimes accompanied him, not because he felt an overwhelming desire to pump his stomach full of liquor but because he preferred to prevent the blue-skinned man from damaging the property – as was his wont to do sometimes – rather than receive a hefty bill the next day.

Itachi was rather averse to dulling his senses through drinking to excess and in any case he'd never really understood the attraction to such pleasures. Vaguely, he recalled his father forbidding him from joining other shinobi of his station on nights of drunken revelry. He wasn't sure whether his father had disapproved of the practice in general or the fact that he was at least five years younger than most of them had something to do with it. In any case, Itachi had always opted for a non-alcoholic beverage over regurgitating his drink down a dark alleyway despite Kisame's frequent attempts to dissuade him. Idly, he wondered where the old shark was now.

The ruddy-faced bartender returned with bottle and a small cup before bustling away again, pausing only to receive a few silver pieces in return. Evidently Itachi wasn't worth the bother of pouring the first glass but despite the man's apparent rudeness, he found he didn't mind. He poured himself a cup of the sweet-smelling stuff and eyed it warily before downing the bubbling liquid in one. It was not so bad, he decided once he got used to the sensation of it burning his throat and his coughs had subsided. However he was not so keen on it as to make it a regular occurrence. He still had some sense of self-preservation left, even if there was nothing left to live for.

He sighed into his drink. It turned out the Uchiha needed more than just one small cup to forget his troubles. His dear, beloved brother was dead; murdered at the hands of Danzou, Konoha's current Hokage and over than vaguely tempting scenarios for extracting his revenge, Itachi had no plans for the immediate future.

A sudden gust of wind caused the ex-Akatsuki to shiver as a latecomer stepped into the wayside inn and made a beeline for the bar. The harsh scraping of a stool being dragged across the flagstone floor alerted him to the newcomer's presence. The pleasant scent of crushed pine-needles infused the air and Itachi peeked curiously at his neighbour, wondering why they were seemingly unperturbed by his hostile demeanour when not a single villager dared sit within five foot of him.

Haunting green eyes, vivid pink locks; Itachi recognised the woman who sat not a foot from him instantly. Sakura Haruno: best friend of the Kyuubi and Sasuke's former teammate. And as fate would have it, she had walked into the very inn that he had, completely oblivious to the identity of the man next to her.

Itachi began to wonder if he was simply unlucky or someone was playing a very cruel joke.

A/N: Please review! It means the world to me!