A/N: Hi everyone! Again, thank you very much for your support! I have to admit this chapter was a lot of fun to write (and difficult) – first interactions are always so crucial! I've left tiny hints as to the direction the story will be going (though not many just yet) I have pretty much finalized the storyline this past week, and I'm so excited! Let me know if you have any thoughts/comments/concerns!

Have a good read!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.


~ More Than Meets The Eye ~

The piercing wails of the storm resonated through the small cavern. He glanced at the sleeping girl; she hadn't so much as stirred over the raucous noise. He supposed chakra exhaustion would see that she was out for another couple of hours.

Heavy onyx eyes fluttered shut as he turned to the cries of nature to deter his torturous thoughts. His moment of reprieve was not granted, however.

Sasuke…

He was worried about his brother. It was all too clear now - at least, he could see it clearly for what it was. For what it had been. He saw the telltale signs, the quiet warnings of his mind that had cautioned him about Madara, about Sasuke. He vaguely remembered thinking that perhaps his brother had ventured too deep into darkness, far too past the point of return - and he remembered dismissing the thought, believing it would be nothing his plan couldn't fix. And lastly, it occurred to him that Madara had deliberately spent minimal time in his presence over the last few years - suspiciously so - and he now concurred that he'd done so to limit Itachi's ability to unravel his plans.

He saw it all for what it was. Because truthfully, he hadn't been able to before. Not soundly, at least.

Over the past few years, Itachi had been little more than an empty shell. Half-there, half-not. A body pumped with such extreme doses of medication that he'd practically been overflowing with drugs. Just enough to keep him functioning. Just enough to keep the agony at bay, and of course to make sure no one found out. He had functioned well enough where day-to-day interactions were concerned, but anything more and his perception - not to mention judgement - turned cloudy.

He'd been more than aware of this. But through the hazy memories, the pain, and the palpable anticipation of finally dying at Sasuke's hands, little else had mattered. And thus, he'd made flawed plans, he'd overlooked details, and he'd underestimated intentions; mistakes he would have never allowed had he been of sound mind.

Now when he looked back and reweighed the facts, it became pitifully obvious that Madara had simply been biding his time until Itachi died to sink his claws into his brother. Sasuke was bitter, he was vengeful, and he was naive - a perfect tool to use against Konoha. It made Itachi sick that the man would use the truth about the massacre to his own advantage - for his own personal retribution against the Leaf. Not to mention, he would poison Sasuke's mind in the process and turn him against their beloved village - which was exactly what Itachi had been attempting to avoid from the very beginning.

Not to mention, now that Itachi lived, his eyes wouldn't be finding their way to Sasuke for a while longer. Which meant, of course, that the tool he'd left in Uzumaki Naruto's care as a precaution for this very problem would be for nil.

He wished more than anything to trust in his brother. To trust him to respect his older brother's sacrifice and make the right decision, or perhaps to choose to value the bonds he'd forged back in Konoha - but Itachi was far too realistic. Sasuke was still naive. He lacked the vision Itachi himself had embraced from a young age. His otouto was quick to be deceived when it came to matters of personal vendetta. After all, Sasuke had declared himself an avenger - and an avenger he would remain.

Revenge was an addiction and it was likely that his brother was hooked. To continue on the path he'd set out for himself would be the simplest choice - easier than having to welcome change and admit to seeking an unjust revenge, logic be damned. Solitude and hatred would remain as his two most trusted companions - they would undoubtedly be familiar to him.

He let his forehead fall on his dangling arm. Ebony hair followed and curtained his face from view. In hindsight, it seemed that his single wish to die at his brother's hands had been at the cost of Sasuke's sanity. Tempting him to welcome hatred, demanding he seek power by any means necessary - it had all slowly but surely driven him mad. At the time, it had seemed justified to Itachi - even necessary. He had to ensure that his brother grew strong enough to defend himself, to not fall into a false sense of security. He was an Uchiha, and the fact remained that there was prejudice against their name. Sasuke had to be able to fend for himself.

And yet, somewhere along the way, he'd made matters worse - and there it was, the latest addition to his list of ironies: driving his brother down a depthless ditch of hatred in his efforts to protect him.

It was all too much. His sins had accumulated to such unworldly masses that were now crushing his soul almost relentlessly. Itachi gave himself a quick shake before opting for a distraction. He let his gaze wander around the small cavern, taking in the clarity of his surroundings. The tiny crack on a pebble across the fire, the golden grains of sand littering the corners, the soft line of a scar on the side of her wrist...

He looked more closely at the pink line, wondering the story behind it. The rest of her arm appeared free of blemishes and the lone scar stood out over such smooth skin. It looked almost unfitting.

Well, the cruel reality of the life of a shinobi - the promise of scars, both visible and hidden.

Such a ruthless life had to be unsuitable for some, he thought, eyeing the sleeping girl. He didn't often pass judgement on those he knew little about, but Itachi couldn't help but wonder what reason she could have possibly had in choosing the life of a shinobi. Their single exchange earlier had made it quite apparent that she harboured a great deal of emotions - and not only that, but she seemed to readily display them as well. From the moment her eyes had met his for the first time, her exact emotional state had been made as clear as day to him. A blend of shock, terror, confusion. And fear. Lots of fear. Her vividly transparent eyes had given away too much too quickly.

It had been an intriguing sight, to say the least. Never mind the fact that he'd been deprived of such levels of clarity for years, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen features of such expressive nature. Needless to say, he had found himself capturing the sight with his Sharingan; the widened eyes, the dilated pupils, the gaping mouth, and the wholly tense posture.

She seemed intelligent - an appropriate trait for a capable shinobi. It'd been made evident in the way she'd more or less bargained for her teammate's life. Her green eyes had darkened in thought and he'd almost seen the wheels turning in her head. The fact that she'd been capable of strategizing in her weakened state had been impressive. Either way, he'd played along; it wasn't as though he had any intention of letting the Kyuubi fall into the hands of the Akatsuki - not if he could help it anyway.

Threatening her with her teammate's life had repulsed him, but it couldn't be helped. Itachi had to make sure that she didn't attempt any escapes - and he felt less than comfortable with the thought of having to use force for the cause. At least this way, they'd reached a mutual understanding. There was no need to put on the ruthless act unless it was absolutely necessary. She already seemed terrified enough of him.

Itachi knew little about her outside the widespread knowledge that circulated across the nations: the Godaime's apprentice, skills in medical ninjutsu second only to those of her shishou's, the kunoichi at whose hands Sasori of the Red Sand had met his end. She had quite the reputation for herself, but Itachi knew better than to claim to know her based on a few facts. After all, there was more to a shinobi than met the eye - a reality that'd always been a little too up-close-and-personal for comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips. Indeed, she was quite amusing. He hadn't seen anyone devour food so blissfully since Sasuke had been three.

The little else he knew about her stemmed purely from the fact that she had been on his brother's team. She was not affiliated with a prominent clan, had possessed little noticeable talent as a Genin, and had grown to become utterly devoted to her team. It was this devotion that had urged Itachi to use her in his plans for Sasuke - not that it mattered any longer.

Long fingers brushed away his raven bangs before trailing to his temples. He applied pressure to diffuse the oncoming headache. It was very minor; he was no stranger to excruciating migraines that went hand in hand with prolonged Sharingan use. His body felt stronger than it had in years, but it still needed sufficient rest to recover.

Absently his fingertips grazed his forehead, feeling warm skin instead of the usual cool metal. It seemed that he had lost it at some point. Perhaps Madara had removed it from his person along with the rest of his possessions.

He closed his eyes and reiterated his plans for the forthcoming weeks. Itachi hoped it wouldn't take too long to reach their destination. Now that Madara had made it known just how far he was willing to go to find out about it, Itachi had to take all measures to prevent it from happening. And the sooner he collected his hidden possession, the sooner he could speak to Sasuke.


He stared at the mass of rubble that coated the forest terrain with the picture of an emotionless façade carved under his mask. Events had taken a turn for the unexpected, and more than anger or displeasure, he was filled with curiosity. How had the kunoichi pulled it off?

The Genjutsu he'd cast on her had specifically commanded she heal Itachi only until he reached a stable condition, no more, no less; but that had obviously not been the case, he gathered, as he looked on at the remains of the underground prison. It had undoubtedly been wrecked by Itachi's Susanoo, as not much else could penetrate the chakra shield - which meant, of course, that he was awake and beyond past the level of 'stable'.

With the recent capture of the Six-Tails jinchuuriki, the beast's extraction had been necessary and had greatly delayed his return to check on his prisoners. His group members knew nothing of his special interest in Itachi, which complicated things somewhat. Either way, he supposed he had only himself to blame for underestimating the girl. He disliked complications when it came to his plans - especially where Itachi was concerned, given that he'd been after this for close to a decade now.

He smothered the burning rage in his chest. Some re-evaluating was due if he hoped to fix the situation - and in the meantime, he had to do what he could to keep tabs on Itachi. It was highly unlikely that the Uchiha would remain in the Akatsuki now that the masked man had made such a blatant move against him. Itachi would probably take steps to unravel his plans from a distance, though he wasn't overly worried about that.

In any case, he had to tread carefully. After all, Uchiha Itachi held the missing piece that the late Madara had requested he uncover.


It was the earthy scent of wet forest that roused her from deep slumber. Cautiously Sakura stirred, and her muscles throbbed in protest of the position she'd held herself all night. She sensed the chakra that roamed every corner of her body, so warm and pleasant in its presence as her system worked to welcome the long-lost familiarity. She felt somewhat strong and rested for the first time in a long time, but with awareness came painful, dawning acceptance.

Her life for the foreseeable future would consist of nothing but protecting her teammate the only way she knew how. In the best way her circumstances allowed. Sakura inwardly braced herself. She closed her eyes. Willed away the tears. Took a deep breath. Released it.

Then she inspected her surroundings with a small frown, finding no signs of the man responsible for her plight. The fire burned as vividly as before - but this time she was quick to spot the fresh meal beside the crackling flames. Strips of meat, balanced over a neat chamber of branches and cradled in a bed of bamboo leaves, accompanied by an assortment of berries that coloured the arrangement. The entire display on the make-shift tray could only be described as elegant.

Sakura blinked to try and come to terms with what she was seeing. A dozen questions arose - why, how, what, when, why - as she sought to justify the needless gesture. An unbidden image flashed across her mind, that of amused eyes and a small smile - the terrifying display from the night before. A chill ran up her spine and she shook off the thought, rubbing her arms to settle the goosebumps. As much as she wanted to refuse the food, she needed her strength in case the man betrayed their arrangement.

She ate quickly, more than aware that her few bites from the night before had been less than sufficient. She sighed in contentment once she'd finished the entire tray before proceeding to stretch her sore muscles, relishing the sounds of accompanying cracks. The small cavern was eerily silent in the aftermath of the storm. As she made her way to the exit, Sakura attempted to gather her resolve, to calm her nerves, and to settle her mind. It was a largely futile effort.

She was greeted by a mossy fragrance that grew more potent with each step. The wonderfully familiar scent caressed her senses while her eyes adjusted to the soft colours of dawn splayed across a clear azure. The forest held a kind of serenity in its post-storm ambiance that never failed to take her breath away; now was no different, with sparse trees bathed in pinks and purples and oranges that didn't quite reach the underbrush and a morning light that didn't quite illuminate. Shadows were left to linger, and immediately her eyes were drawn to one in particular - an ominous silhouette that stood in the distance. He faced the sunrise, away from her, with a single arm held to the side where three crows perched. Four others hovered above him, and the sounds of flapping wings resonated through the silent forest, accompanied by the occasional caw.

It made for an eerie image that drew a chill down her spine. The rays brushed his form only just; from her vantage point, he was no more than the outline of a shadow, his pitch black silhouette indistinguishable from that of the crows. Sakura found it strangely fitting against the hushed backdrop. This did little to quell the fear that was clawing at her insides, of course, and as evidence to that fact, her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage. It was a terrifying scene.

He did nothing to acknowledge her presence. Instead, his arm swept skywards and the crows took their queue to scatter, figures ominous against the soft sunrise as they took flight. Only then did he turn, and stray feathers floated and fluttered around him as he began a casual stroll in her direction. The crimson of his eyes was visible even from this length, flashing strikingly over features that grew clearer with his approach - and at that moment, under the dim lighting of dawn, Sakura found her mind assaulted with reminders, with images, with hours and days worth of hazy memories. A still figure. A flickering flame. Soft, peaceful features bathed in a soft glow - not unlike this very moment. Comforting, consoling, familiar.

It was the same face that'd provided her with some much-needed companionship during the torturous hours of her captivity. During both the dreams and the nightmares. Now that she was no longer chakra deprived and panic-stricken, her mind could inspect the familiar features - and the new additions - more attentively.

It was odd, to say the least. Sakura pictured a puzzle - a puzzle she'd put together many times over, had memorized to the minutest detail - but with a missing piece. A vital piece without which the puzzle held no meaning, as though the most crucial part had been saved for last. A bitter smile played across her lips as she swept her gaze over Uchiha Itachi's eyes; the piece that defined this man had been placed, effectively completing the puzzle - and had destroyed all chances of a beautiful meaning to the mystery, promising endless horrors instead.

"Are you ready to leave?" The light, polite tone of his voice was even more startling in her rested state. Emerald eyes strayed to his forehead as Sakura tried harder to smother her growing panic with every step that brought him closer.

"Where are we going?" Was she to follow him around as he took care of Akatsuki business? The thought was nauseating.

He glanced in her direction as he walked past, evidenced only by a minute tip of his head. "We will collect supplies," he said before disappearing into the cave.

Her eyes followed him, not daring to turn her back. Supplies sounded great, actually. She didn't have a single kunai on her person.

When he resurfaced moments later, Sakura found herself observing him carefully. She couldn't detect any particularly menacing intent. "And then?"

He drew to an abrupt halt and turned to face her fully. Sakura inadvertently tensed, and her gaze snapped to his forehead as she prepared to read his movements. The only thing she saw in her peripheral, however, was the faint crease to his brows as he seemingly studied her from top to bottom for a moment.

"We may locate a stream for you to clean yourself. Or you may choose to wait until we've arrived, if you don't mind," he offered in the type of polite mannerism one would have to practice their whole life to perfect.

Sakura blanked briefly - and then tensed all over again. Her senses expanded to survey her surroundings, before she let herself relax fractionally. There seemed to be no traces of a Genjutsu, but...

Slowly, her eyes trailed back to him. He was waiting for her answer, posture calm and patient, and Sakura caught her jaw from falling in surprise.

Was he simply...being considerate?

She recollected herself long enough to glance down at her state - and saw the blood and dirt that clung to her from head to toe. When exactly had she been showered in dust? She swallowed the thick lump in her throat before sweeping her eyes quickly over his in cautious appraisal. He stood tall as a shinobi would and returned her gaze unflinchingly with that same blank expression. Sakura gave herself a mental shake and drew back her shoulders. "I'd prefer not having to wait," she replied sternly, but with polite formality. It wasn't in her nature to lash out at those who showed consideration.

He gave a little nod - the smallest dip of his head - before turning to head toward a denser part of the forest. She took a few hesitant steps in pursuit before stalling.

"And then?"

He stopped to look back over his shoulder, and his onyx eye lit up in something - amusement? - before the ghost of a half-smirk, half-smile flitted across his features. Sakura noted in her daze that even his smirks resembled smiles - a sharp contrast to Sasuke, whose smiles resembled smirks.

And then he turned away again, leaving the question unanswered and the girl disoriented in the wake of his behaviour. Sakura trailed after him with no choice but to accept his silence, and he took to the thick canopy the moment she drew close enough to follow. A weak sigh escaped her lips as she blinked away the tears that sprung to her eyes, and Sakura leapt after Uchiha Itachi as the sun continued its steady ascent over the horizon.


Naruto clenched a fistful of earth with a grim sort of resolve. The grains gave way and crumbled to dust before trickling through his fingers like sand.

Sakura-chan…

"There's no question about it. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours." Pakkun regarded the group with stern eyes as Akamaru barked beside him in agreement.

"And she is alive?" asked Sai, voicing the question no one else seemed able to.

The pug nodded. "We can smell her chakra. It wouldn't be so strong if she wasn't."

Kakashi crouched by the mound of rubble and pinched a sample of soil before rubbing it between thumb and index finger. "So they've relocated. But that doesn't explain...this," he mused out loud, eyeing the terrain.

"There are traces of very powerful chakra in the rubble. It's almost as if chakra itself caused an explosion." Pakkun glanced at the other ninken who were sniffing through the ruins. "There's evidence that there was a room underground. It's likely the explosion originated from within."

Kakashi's brows furrowed. "Chakra explosion..."

They knew little about the Akatsuki member who'd abducted Sakura. It was possible that he had such a technique in his arsenal, but Kakashi was skeptical. It made little sense for Tobi to destroy the hidden base where he'd been keeping his prisoner. He may have wished to relocate for whatever reason, but blasting the place had only alerted them of its location. It didn't sound like a logical course of action for someone holding a captive.

As far as Kakashi was aware, the only Akatsuki techniques that could have caused such a chakra eruption were Deidara's clay bombs and Itachi's Amaterasu and Susanoo - members Pakkun would be familiar with. And according to the Akatsuki's own sources, Itachi had been defeated by Sasuke.

"Kakashi…" Pakkun addressed him, but his solemn gaze was for the entire group. They all turned to the ninken.

"Sakura is with Uchiha Itachi."


They travelled in complete silence until past noon. The forest was a green blur at their swift pace - it came as no surprise that he was fast, but Sakura hadn't missed his slower stride intended to test her travelling speed that morning. The last thing she needed was to appear weaker than she already felt, so she'd responded by picking up her pace without straining her body in its state of recovery, and he'd swiftly matched her step. No doubt he could run faster if he so desired, but oddly enough, he was choosing to accommodate her pace instead of demanding she go faster.

They'd stopped by a stream a few hours prior and he had promptly vanished to give her some privacy. The cool water had felt wonderful as she'd made attempts to wash off the worst of the grime that clung to her skin, but after battling with the nest of crusty old blood that sat atop her head, she'd given up, resigning the chore to the capable hands of shampoo until later. It would need to be disinfected before she could heal her head wound anyway.

He had miraculously reappeared the moment she'd stepped away from the water, and they'd continued on their way.

That had been a while ago, and just as Sakura wondered how much longer they'd be travelling, he descended from the canopy to continue on foot over an overlaid trail. Within minutes, they'd stepped onto a quiet road that lead to a handful of brick lodges. The few people that strode the street kept their heads low and their gazes lower.

Great. Sketchy spot for a sketchy man.

She followed him to the side entrance of a three-story building and past a rusty screen. They walked down a short hallway before entering a room through a wooden door - and it was as though the doorway triggered a shift in the ambiance, because the suffocating killing intent that emanated from her companion when he stepped into the room was immediate. Immediate and absolutely debilitating. The chill was enough to freeze every last air particle in her lungs. Sakura almost stumbled in her daze.

It seemed that he'd had a similar effect on the three other occupants of the room, as the men scrambled and seemed at a general loss for what to do with themselves.

"U-Uchiha-s-sama," the shortest man spluttered, bowing his head to the ground. The other two, decked in full ninja gear, cowered back toward the far wall, and Sakura had enough sense to note that they'd likely been guarding the other man - the man who hadn't yet risen from his folded position and was quite distinctly a civilian with a look about him that screamed dirty business.

"I will take it all."

His voice was something out of a nightmare. Not the customarily sinister, tormenting hiss that was commonly associated with such horrors, but one that sparked true fear in the form of the unknown - because Uchiha Itachi's voice was barely above a whisper, entirely blank to the point of being inhuman, and equally unforgiving. It was so very different from before - so much so that for a moment Sakura wondered if she'd been dreaming all morning - and was everything she would have ever imagined it to be.

"O-of course, Uchiha-sama! I'll f-fetch your m-money right away, sir." The poor man almost tripped over his own feet as he bolted behind a door to the right.

It took her a moment to recognize the building pain in her chest, and finally she released the breath she'd held on instinct - before risking a cursory glance at the man beside her. All matters aside, he shouldn't have been so petrifying in such modest ninja garb. He wasn't even wearing his signature cloak - but it seemed that this S-rank criminal needed no accessories to spark terror in his victims.

Only his Sharingan, she corrected, registering the crimson glow that shone brighter than she'd ever seen in her peripheral. He looked the epitome of cruelty, and Sakura found herself shifting away unconsciously as she eyed his figure, at which point his eyes gave a swift blink.

And she'd been terrified of him before? Yeah right, she thought as she attempted to control her trembling.

His contact reemerged, fumbling a duffle bag and sweating profusely. He drew to an abrupt halt, and his internal struggle as to whether he should approach the Uchiha or give ear to his survival instincts was pitifully obvious. Sparing one last glance at his useless guards, he turned hesitantly toward the menace in the room before bowing as low as his girth would allow and taking a small step forward.

Thankfully, her companion seemed to be in a merciful mood and swiftly covered the short distance to retrieve the bag without much fuss. With that, he took position by the door they'd crossed only minutes before and turned to Sakura. She stood staring at his shoulder for some long moments before it dawned on her that he was waiting for her to leave the room first.

She was praying that her bodily tremors weren't visible as she walked past him into the hallway, but with the soft click of the door just like before, the palpable tension in the air had suddenly lifted - had inexplicably vanished as though it'd never been, leaving only a dry mouth and a pounding heart in its wake. The few steps that brought them outdoors were accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Sakura was still trying to gather her lost grip on reality when he spoke, gaze locked on the greenery ahead.

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly with a hint of strain - discomfort?

Sakura spared him a sidelong glance and noted the faint crease to his brows and the slight tension to his jaw. Her own brows would have risen in response had feeling returned to her facial muscles, but alas, her heart could only stumble in its rhythm while another cold, fearful chill - one of many - descended her spine in reaction to his words. Why did he look uncomfortable? Better yet, why was he apologizing? Her shell shocked features cracked to give way to narrowed eyes as she tried to sort through her jumble of thoughts. She wasn't deemed intelligent for nothing, but her mind could come up with no plausible explanation for her perceptions. Perhaps his odd behaviour was a consequence of mental instability - though hers or his, she wasn't sure at this point.

He didn't acknowledge her scrutinizing stare as they made their way back to the forest trail. Finally, her eyes trailed down to the apparent purpose of their short visit and she couldn't help the small noise of incredulity that rose in the back of her throat. He glanced down at her with onyx eyes and an imperceptibly raised eyebrow.

She looked away quickly. "Money?" she muttered with a quiet huff.

He was silent for a few moments before replying slowly, almost tentatively, in that polite lilt. "We need it to purchase our supplies."

Her wary, inquisitive gaze drifted back to him at his self-evident explanation. His brow rose just a little higher in response, and whatever he saw on her face made him turn back to the road before addressing her unspoken query with a, "I don't steal, Haruno-san," in an exceedingly courteous tone.

Sakura blinked at his admission, and torrents of shock and fury flooded her all at once; shock because there were no traces of defensiveness or hostility in his voice - only a dab of careful tact to right misinformation, as though she'd accidentally gotten his name wrong and he wanted to correct it without seeming rude. And fury - well, that was entirely due to the nature of his declaration. 'No, you just murder in cold-blood,' she thought, clenching her jaw and sharply turning away.

The next hour saw their arrival at a small village. A quick inspection made it apparent that it was inhabited primarily by civilians, but the abundance of merchants suggested a specialty in provisioning for passersby, including ninja. Sakura observed the radiant streets decked with signs of all shapes and sizes that urged buyers to take a peek at their collections, browse through endless supplies of clothing and attire accessories, and taste cuisines from across the five great nations and beyond. She was undoubtedly overwhelmed by the chaos after her less than social interactions of recent.

They waded the crowded streets toward a more modest side of town. She followed him inside a vacant store and was greeted by rows and rows of ninja gear of all kinds.

She could sense him watching her from the corner of his eyes as she took in the overwhelming array of options. "Is this sufficient for your needs?"

Sakura glanced at his - still shockingly - onyx eyes and emotionless gaze. "I think so," she muttered before taking to browsing the racks once she'd received a curt nod.

It wasn't difficult to see why the store lacked in customers; every piece of clothing screamed top-quality, likely outside the price range of the average traveler. Apparently not the Uchiha's, however. She wondered how he'd come by so much money if he didn't steal - and then decided that morally skewed people came by the dozens and would have no qualms about hiring Uchiha Itachi for his services if they could afford S-class compensation.

Under normal circumstances - normal loosely suggesting that she wasn't under the watchful gaze of a dangerous missing-nin who could wring her neck faster than Ino could snatch those cute pair of boots on the bottom shelf - she enjoyed shopping, especially when accompanied by said speedy snatcher. Though of course these were hardly normal circumstances, and she wasn't with her friend but with a man who had haunted her nightmares more than any S-rank criminal had business doing. So it was entirely understandable that she found herself less than willing to drag this on for any longer than strictly necessary. Mind decided, she swiftly picked out a pair of red shorts that reached slightly lower than her current pair and a black kimono style top that looked strikingly similar to the red one on her person. She collected undergarments and a pair of black gloves from their appropriate shelves before returning to the front of the store. Her boots were thankfully undamaged.

He was waiting for her with his own small pile of items. When he saw her cautious approach, he turned to the elderly lady with fine wrinkles about her eyes and mouth that paid homage to the smile that held permanent residence over her features.

He smiled at her. "Arigatou gozaimasu." An elegant, courteous bow followed, before he placed a number of bills on the counter that were unquestionably too much. Sakura had been lingering near the door, where she could both keep him in her sights and feel safe with their relative distance, but when the woman's wrinkles grew more pronounced in her direction, she couldn't do but return the smile and execute a somewhat clumsy bow of her own.

As they exited the store, she had to make a conscious effort to avoid tripping over her own frozen, dysfunctional limbs. And despite her efforts to shove it down, the image kept resurfacing as though her mind needed reminders that it hadn't been a fragment of her imagination.

He had smiled. And this time, it hadn't been fleeting; it had been effortless and undeniably beautiful.

She flinched as he fell in step beside her, and her gaze dropped to her feet in an effort to ignore his presence. Was he really that talented of an actor? A wave of sorrow washed over her. That smile...

It was the smile she'd hoped to one day see on Sasuke's face. The smile she'd always pictured on his lips. She'd had to rely on imagination, because she couldn't be certain - she was doubtful Sasuke had ever smiled so naturally. Not around her, at least.

She was distracted enough to almost walk past the door he'd held open. A trail of goosebumps rose along her skin as she turned her back on him to step inside. Only then did she note the slightly shabby state of the interior under the dim fluorescent lighting. It was a weaponry establishment that didn't seem like much at first glance, but when she spotted the spiralling rail of a staircase that lead underground - a common feature of weaponry premises that dealt in the black market - she imagined it was more than adequate.

They spent longer here, and she wiped all thoughts of her ex-teammate and perfect smiles from her mind as she watched him pick his equipment with effortless expertise. His expression remained impassive save the faint crease of his brows drawn in concentration. He collected scrolls, tags, innumerable shuriken (she blinked in shock before recalling his specialty in shurikenjutsu) and a whole range of other supplies she had a hard time keeping track of.

Sakura had to admit, as far as skill proficiency went, she had to give respects to those who earned it for being competent in their field. This was especially true in the ranks of shinobi, since she happened to be among them. And right now, observing the efficiency with which this shinobi - one of the best in existence - picked his tools, she couldn't do but be in awe of him.

After a painful half hour of watching him put her to shame - and quickly gathering her own supplies - she followed him back to the buzzing streets. Their next stop, strangely enough, was a dusty bookstore that radiated mystique.

He glanced at her over his shoulder as they entered. "I won't be long."

She remained by the entrance while he approached an old man and began conversing in hushed tones. The man's excitement seemed to grow with every word exchanged until he all but grabbed the Uchiha's arm and yanked him behind the shelving unit on his left - and Sakura's blood froze solid in her veins. With little thinking on her part, she dashed after them, heart in her throat with fear for the poor man's safety, all the while wondering what human with operative survival instincts would dare drag Uchiha Itachi by the arm.

When she finally skidded to a halt at the end of the narrow isle in a panting mess of breaths and limbs, the sight that greeted her forced a meek, audible screech from her throat. She froze for a moment, before a sharp breath made its way past her lips. And then calmly, orderly, she turned away from the two men who hadn't even acknowledged her presence and retraced her steps back outside. Once in the vicinity of excess oxygen, she rubbed her temples in soothing, circular motions to settle her nerves. She didn't know what she had expected to find in that dusty isle; perhaps a session of senseless torture as the Uchiha punished the old man for laying a finger on him, or maybe she'd expected to be too late, left to stare into the lifeless eyes of a man who'd suffered the wrath of the Uchiha. These things would have made sense to her. She had no reason to expect anything more - or less. What she hadn't been expecting to find, however, was a crouching Uchiha Itachi browsing the books on the bottom shelf beside the kind-eyed, smiling man.

"Haruno-san?"

A shameless shriek tore from her throat as she jumped and spun, hand instinctively reaching for a newly acquired kunai before freezing when she came face to face with the object of her distress. He stood, wholly calm and collected, and stared at her.

She forced feeling back into her limbs by folding her arms in as nonchalant a gesture as she could manage. "Yes?"

"Did you need anything else?"

"No." Just my sanity.

"Then we will head over to our accommodation for the evening." He turned and began a casual stroll down the road. A tortured sigh left her lips as she trailed after him.

They entered an inn through a tastefully decorated entrance. The reception desk was at the end of a short, lantern-lit path. The interior was nothing extravagant - simply clean and cozy - but it was not a setting one would imagine the Akatsuki lodging at. In fact, Sakura realized with no little amount of horror, it looked like a place she would choose to stay at, and even the prospect of being coincidental neighbours with S-rank criminals when on vacation was disturbing enough to make her quash that thought quickly and entirely.

"One room, two beds, please," he addressed the young woman behind the counter in his usual polite lilt.

"One room?!" she turned on him accusingly, shock and anger setting aside her reservations for a moment.

He disregarded her, and she thought he wouldn't dignify her with a response - until finally, from the corner of his eye, onyx slowly met emerald. Whatever he saw made him release a soft breath - she realized it was a sigh after a moment of incredulity - before turning to face her fully.

"I would like to trust you Haruno-san - however I cannot risk you attempting an escape or contacting your village at this time," he said, sounding almost troubled. "I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter."

Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. "Are you saying you couldn't stop me if I tried?" Unfortunately for her self-esteem, her voice carried more skepticism than she'd intended.

He smiled - again - and tipped his head casually to the side. "As much as I am flattered by your confidence in my abilities, I don't underestimate fellow shinobi." The mirth that'd sparked in his eyes reached the pleasant tones of his voice.

Sakura blinked and turned away, at a complete loss for words. She wet her dry mouth to try and gather her wits about herself - the very wits this man had a habit of messing with. She wasn't sure if she ought to be flattered or frustrated, but needless to say she was feeling no little of both. It wasn't everyday that her abilities were taken seriously - though quite possibly overestimated in this scenario.

It was then that she noted the unusually lengthy silence that'd settled over the room. She glanced at the reception desk - to find the young woman rooted to the spot, an epitome of stupefaction with widened eyes, flushed cheeks, a gaping mouth, and a faint trickle of drool on the corner of her lips.

She furrowed her brows, puzzled, and followed her line of sight...to the Uchiha, who had taken to looking past the woman while waiting patiently for her to come to her senses and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Her eyes lidded over in a lazy blink before flickering between the two. When it finally dawned on her, she barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Excuse me?" The snap was poorly contained. She was more than ready for that shower.

The woman's eyes whipped to hers before widening further in startled shock, clearly only just noting her presence and inadvertently deepening Sakura's scowl. She mumbled a small "sorry" and blushed a few shades of red before getting to work.

A depleted sigh escaped her lips. If only she knew the target of her ogling, she'd consider herself lucky for not being Katon'd to death for her inconvenience. Then again, he hadn't made a comment. As the woman disappeared to fetch their key, Sakura risked a glance, curious despite herself.

He had an arm propped on the desk to keep his balance, looking relaxed and casual - and as she searched for what the woman might have seen, she was more than a little disturbed to find a Greek God standing where a criminal had been a moment ago.

His complexion wasn't as pale as Sasuke's - who'd sometimes looked unhealthy in his pallor - but still on the fair side, with skin seemingly smooth enough to make even Ino jealous. He wasn't bulky or brawny but lean as a sprinter would be, likely a result of the training that'd earned him his inexhaustible agility and speed. His slight figure had his muscles rippling with softer curves instead of harsh ones, and it fit him well, somehow. The small metal hoops of his necklace glistened against the light, stressing the edges of his collarbone. Smooth, jet-black hair fell over his shoulders and arms - she thought it may be a shade or two lighter than Sasuke's but couldn't quite remember - and contrasted exotically with his skin while shorter bangs softened the hard edge of his jaw. And of course, his lashes - his exceptionally long, dark eyelashes curled over the onyx of his eyes, almost brushing his lids with every blink.

And he did blink.

Sakura's head snapped down at said blink with a suddenly-too-dry throat. Her glimpse had turned into a thorough inspection - and no doubt he'd been aware of it the entire time. She fought the creeping blush that threatened to betray her embarrassment. So he was quite attractive - it was hardly news to her. She'd already memorized the fine details of his face time and time again. Forced captivity would have anyone desperate enough for a distraction, and she was positive she'd have given the same meticulous attention to a worm had she found herself detained with one instead. Worm or Uchiha Itachi, it made little difference - in fact the worm may have proven more intriguing, because she was already used to Uchiha genes; it came as no surprise that an appealing male like Sasuke had an attractive older brother.

With the return of one flushed girl, they received their key and headed to the room. It was a simple set up: two beds split by a night stand, a closet, a desk with a sole chair, and a door to what she assumed to be the bathroom.

The instant the door shut closed, Sakura found herself struck by a case of senseless claustrophobia. A shiver slithered up her spine as her senses buzzed in high alert of the danger in the room. She clutched her new gear to her chest and flung her tools onto a bed before dashing for the bathroom without a backward glance. She may or may not have slammed the door - it was all fuzzy - before sliding down onto the tiles in a crumpled, ungraceful heap of limbs. And then finally, the dam burst.

She hiccuped through the tears that fell with abandon, occasionally losing track of where or why she was even crying. She was suffering from some form of a mental instability, possibly PTSD - she hadn't had the time for a proper diagnosis - and was now paying the price for suppressing her emotions that day.

She'd expected it, though. It was no easy feat coming out unscathed from prolonged torture by the Sharingan. Her mind was only just beginning to get a grip on itself, and unfortunately, the treatment wouldn't be a simple case of healing chakra. And that man - that monster - standing behind this door was only worsening her condition.

Not only had he sealed her fate, which had implications - not only for her but for Naruto and her village as well - that Sakura was trying hard not to dwell on, he was behaving...oddly. Not that she had a reference point to base S-rank criminal behaviour on, but she'd heard no little whispers of the horrors of Uchiha Itachi and his mind games. He had no match when it came to genjutsu - even without having to rely on those dreadful eyes - and Sakura thought he might be playing with her mind. She was feeling thoroughly fooled, if not frustrated. It wasn't too difficult to look past it with the crippling fear weighing her down, but she couldn't understand how civility was supposed to be a form of torture - then again, instead of terrorizing her in the normal sense of the word, he was terrifying her in a whole other way she couldn't fathom. Perhaps that was torture enough. Thinking on it was physically hurting her fragile mind.

Her head fell into her palms where teardrops gathered and overflowed. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted to go home... She missed Konoha, she missed her shishou, her parents, Kakashi-sensei, Naruto...

Naruto.

Her eyes snapped open to the image of a foxy grin beneath a pair of ocean-blue eyes. She scrambled to her feet in speeds even the head rush couldn't keep up with. Wet hands slammed on the sides of the sink, and in that small mirror above the faucet, Sakura looked at herself for the first time in weeks.

And it was as though it was the first time, ever. It took her a moment to recognize the pale, sunken skin and the blood-shot, red rimmed eyes as her own. The dull green were cradled by deep hollows, her lips were chapped and bloody, and the maroon-brown layer atop her head had hidden all traces of pink. She stared, and she stared. She stared long after the last tear had dripped from her chin, leaving behind only a damp trail.

She was Haruno Sakura, was she not? She could see it in the shape of her nose. In the arch of her brows. And in that tiny scar on the soft skin of her left eye. She was the apprentice to Senju Tsunade, the most powerful kunoichi across the Five Great. She was a distinguished, competent medic-nin. She was a shinobi of Konohagakure, ready to give her life for her village.

But most importantly, she was Uzumaki Naruto's friend.

The boy who'd endured more pain, more hardships than anyone else she'd ever met. The boy who never failed to seize the day with unyielding determination. The boy who pushed her to become her very best.

Sakura wiped the damp trails on her cheeks with the back of her hand. She wouldn't cry. She was better than this. She would be better than this and make him proud. And if she was given the chance, she would protect him until her last breath.

She saw the light ignite in her eyes as though a flame had flickered to life; her very own will of fire right behind her green irises, like the green of the leaf she protected. A smile cracked over her stony features, and she nodded at herself once before turning away with newfound resolve. She washed herself clean of every last reminder of her confinement. The water stained a deep brownish maroon before swirling and disappearing down the drain, taking with it the horrors and the memories.

She took her time getting dressed before settling down to heal her head wound. She relished the familiar warmth that seeped under her skin with healing chakra. Within minutes, all physical traces of the last few weeks were history.

She gathered her clothes and gave herself another nod. With one final deep breath, she exited the bathroom, no more willing to face the menace but no less determined to either. He was looking out the window and disregarded her completely as she approached her chosen bed, but just as she began towel-drying her hair, she saw him make a hesitant move in her peripheral vision. Sakura turned to glance in his direction - and instead spotted her hitai-ate on the soft carpeted floor. It must have fallen from her pile.

And then there he was, taking measured steps until he was towering above it. He crouched down with painstaking care - and there was an odd moment's pause where his hand hovered above the plate - before his fingers grazed past the red ribbon to close around cool metal. Sakura watched, transfixed, as his thumb slid over the plate horizontally, gently, from one end to the other across the leaf symbol, before he rose just as slowly and finally met her gaze. Onyx swirled with emotions she couldn't understand, so she just stared back, entirely unaware of her own expression, as he closed the distance and offered it to her.

This alien feeling was...strange, again. She couldn't sort through the sensations that accompanied her perceptions. She reached out, cautiously, and her fingers wrapped around the opposite end of the plate. It felt as though they stood like that for a single heartbeat, both holding on, until his hand fell away and he turned to disappear behind the bathroom door.

Sakura stared after him with furrowed brows, hand still hovering - until her heart seemed to kickstart from pause, and she held a fist over her chest, gasping for air. What had just happened? Like waking from a dream, the intensity of his gaze burned more vividly in her mind. Her eyes trailed down to the plate, swept across the beautiful symbol, and Sakura found herself running her index finger along it, over the same course his thumb had followed only moments ago. She frowned.

The sound of running water reached her ears. She gave a little shake and tied the hitai-ate around her head before turning to sort through her new equipment.

Her weapons holster was assembled in its usual setup. She gazed thoughtfully at the rest of her tools. Usually, the vials, writing utensils and scrolls would be carried on her person, but Sakura wasn't sure how often she'd be needing them. So, reaching for a scroll, she performed a basic sealing technique and stored them away until further use. Satisfied, she placed the scroll inside her pouch before settling on the bed - and immediately melted into the covers. It was hard to take note of her exhaustion when a constant spike of adrenaline was keeping her on her toes, and the lulling sound of the shower was more than enough to tip her over the edge - but just before her senses grew fuzzy, her gaze landed on an object on the other bed. Curious, she lifted her head for a better look.

It was a book. Rather, his recent purchase from the bookstore-of-terror, as she'd be be calling it henceforth. Intrigued - as was the case with most books - she reached for it to read the faded title.

Origins of Land of Ancestors

Pre-Civilization War: Methods and Philosophies

Pink brows rose slowly. He was't much for light reads, it would seem. She skimmed through the pages when she failed to locate an author - and the reason became clear shortly after. It wasn't a single, continuous book; rather it consisted of various excerpts that'd been gathered and placed under one cover. The colours of the pages varied, indicating their relative age. Even the font changed from one page to the other - a selection of typings to hand-written calligraphy to scribbles of notes. She turned to a page and skimmed an excerpt:

Commenced with independent centres of origin, practices in agriculture brought forth expedient applications for civilization; one such as the assembly of the papyrus pith, which, although deemed high in regard, sought arduous methods, prompting violent disputes over its constituents.
Example: Taiyou-Hoshi Conflict (73.9 – 42.4) / 357 dispatched for battle…

The water shut off. Sakura turned to another page.

The mythical origins of the sapling... that which reaches stars of ancient era...roots extend to the core of blue earth...a single damned fruit banned of harvest...eating at the red…

The sound of an opening door had her snapping the book shut before swiftly returning it to the bed. She avoided his gaze even as he approached her side of the room.

"We will head outside for a meal," he announced.

She glanced at him - and took a moment to inspect his new garb: a mesh shirt beneath a dark gray v neck with matching three quarter pants. His calves were bandaged over his ninja sandals and his hair was tied, now hanging low and loose down his back. He stared at her blankly, waiting.

She turned away. "I have soldier pills." Her body's need for sleep was overpowering her hunger.

"Soldier pills are insufficient for your needs, Haruno-san," he countered, and she could just about hear the frown in his voice. "You require adequate nutrition if you wish to recover fully, which no doubt you know better than I do."

Emerald eyes narrowed and trailed back to him. How was it that he'd delivered a scolding remark and still made her feel praised? Now she was getting pissed. Why was it any of his concern anyway? He'd already cooked for her twice - a gesture her last captor had fully neglected. "Why?"

His eyebrow rose in that questioning arch she was growing familiar with. "Why am I encouraging you to eat? Starving a captive is not the most efficient way of killing them, Haruno-san." She saw the quirk of his lips in a passing smile and faltered - was this his attempt at making a joke?

She rose from the bed and rounded on him, having had just about enough. "Your fellow Akatsuki did the honors of keeping me alive for over a week with a single soldier pill," she grit out. "Tobi, was it? I fail to see the reason for this change in your hosting manners."

His eyes narrowed minutely - the first display of displeasure she'd ever seen on him - but the fury behind emeralds was not to be quelled, although a significant part of her brain was cowering in fear. Surprisingly, his Sharingan hadn't made an appearance. Yet.

And then the blank features returned, possibly more so than before. "You are of no use to me weak," he murmured lightly, but with the same cold tinge from when he'd threatened Naruto's life. Sakura winced - at his tone or his use of that godforsaken word, she wasn't sure. Right - she had to be at her best to tend to his mighty Sharingan. Again, she was left with no choice but to lower her eyes and follow after him as he walked past.

He drew to a halt beyond the inn's exit and gazed down the poorly lit street under the dim twilight. "What would you like to eat?"

She threw him an incredulous look - one that he missed - at the return of his civil mood and remained silent. They began a slow stroll before he spared a searching glance from the corner of his eye, at which point she simply shrugged.

Street lights flickered to life as they ventured further, and soon enough the road was buzzing with growing crowds in time for dinner. She eyed the food vendors with no real interest, mind idle with fatigue - until a particularly loud slurp reached her ears.

She looked up on instinct - and spotted a man with slick brown hair inhaling his ramen in an all-too-familiar manner...right beside a young boy with painfully blonde, spiky hair.

A smile tried its chance at twisting her lips but got only as far as a grimace before her gaze fell back on the road. Would she ever share another meal with him?

"Ramen," he affirmed and started towards the vendor before she could utter a single word of protest. So instead she scowled and resumed her embodiment of a tail.

An enthusiastic young man beamed behind the counter. "What can I get you two?"

The Uchiha glimpsed at her and remained quiet. When the silence had stretched long enough to border uncomfortable, it became apparent that she was to order first. She almost groaned in exasperation. "Miso Chashu Ramen please."

"Two, please," he added before making way for her to take a seat. Her weary mind couldn't even muster a thought of protest, and she sank into a seat at the booth. To her absolute trepidation, he sat right beside her, and this time even her lassitude couldn't stop a sudden call of danger from shooting up her spine. Their food seemed to take all eternity to arrive, and if Sakura had had the sense to look past her terror, she may have found those prolonged minutes to be nothing short of awkward in the most cringeworthy way.

At long last, they turned to their individual meals in complete silence - after his quiet "Itadakimasu" that she wasn't sure whether he'd meant for her to hear. She tried very hard to focus on her bowl and to make the most of the situation; she was having a warm, filling meal for the first time in a long time. But the fact remained that she was sitting elbow-to-elbow with an S-rank missing-nin - with Uchiha Itachi, in particular - and one said elbow had at one point brushed hers in a moment of debilitating horror on her part. But truthfully, Sakura was more shook by the fact that she was simply sharing a meal with him on a crowded street. The normality of the situation was enough to make her tremble.

The silence ensued long after they'd returned to the inn. When she'd finally taken refuge under the covers and perched herself as far from him as was physically possible, he decided to rupture the quiet.

"We will be departing past dawn. You will heal my eyes before we leave," he declared softly, tone giving the impression that she could very well refuse but the nature of his words indicating otherwise.

She didn't respond and instead gripped the covers tighter as though they were her life line. Her muscles refused to be relieved of their comforting tension. She'd drifted to sleep so easily the night before, but now with food in her system, her body was pumping with excess energy. She chanced a cautious peek behind her - to see him by the window as before, staring into the darkness of night. She wondered idly what he could be looking at before letting her eyes drift closed.

Had it really only been a day? It felt so, so much longer. It'd undoubtedly been one of the most draining days of her life - physically, mentally, emotionally - and Sakura had to come to terms with the fact that she'd have to live through many more. But at the same time...she had to admit, it'd been nothing like what she had expected. He was not what she had expected. At least not in the generic sense... Perhaps her previous impression had been entirely misguided. He didn't quite strike her as someone who would openly torture his victims - he seemed much too withdrawn for that. So it would be his mind games she'd have to watch out for.

She couldn't blame herself for expecting otherwise, however. Since the day she'd learned of Sasuke's desire - need - for revenge and the reasons behind it, all evidence she'd gathered had served as further proof that Uchiha Itachi was a ruthless, vicious criminal who did everything for his own benefit. Criminals could show manners, could they not? And they could be considerate. And polite. And they could sound somewhat pleasant...

She shook her head. It didn't change the fact that he was one of the most talented, most dangerous men to ever exist. If anything, it meant that she had to be more alert. More careful.

But it also meant that she was more afraid...


Itachi's eyes fluttered shut behind porcelain. He felt for the three crows that circled in the distance before folding his arms and leaning back on the boulder to listen to the forest hums in peaceful silence.

A minute shift in the air prompted a pair of Sharingan to blaze under his mask. Crimson orbs trailed up the towering pine above him.

"Shisui?" he called quietly before lowering his mask to follow him into the thick foliage.

He slowed to a halt when he approached the familiar scenery. Sounds of burbling water ruptured the silence as the Nakano continued its steady glide with graceful purpose. Itachi looked on at the edge, at his friend's back under the dim glow of moonlight.

"Shisui," Itachi addressed him again when he remained unspeaking.

"It's too late to stop the coup, Itachi." Shisui's voice came with a quiet kind of gravity, with a tinge of poorly concealed sorrow that cut Itachi almost as deeply as the implications of his words did. "A civil war between the Uchiha and the village will mean…" His friend's words trailed off as though they'd been swept by the warm wind, when suddenly even the air stilled in nervous anticipation.

"War," they announced in unison. Itachi clenched his jaw.

"No doubt other nations would take advantage of the situation," Shisui added lightly.

A passing silence fell over them, both struck by a reality that'd seemed so improbable only weeks ago.

"I know I told you not to get involved, Itachi. They're still suspicious of you, but…" He gazed up at the crescent moon, and a breeze hollowed the quality of his ensuing tone. "I'm afraid I'll have to burden you with this," he breathed.

A hard swallow made its way down Itachi's throat.

"With Hokage-sama's permission, I'd planned to use my Kotoamatsukami on Fugaku to stop the coup, to change his mind..." Shisui slowly turned to finally face him. "But Danzou stole my right eye."

Itachi's heart stumbled in its rhythm when he saw the blood gushing down his friend's empty socket, painted a glowing silver under the moonlit night.

"It seems that he doesn't trust me - neither does he trust Hokage-sama's methods to deal with this. He doesn't believe that changing Fugaku's mind would end the Uchiha's efforts in the long run..." Shisui let his words hang for a moment. "I suspect he will come for my left eye as well. So I'd like to give it to you before he has a chance… Please keep it safe for me."

His fingers trailed to his left eye, and he swiftly removed it without so much as a grunt. Blood dripped and stained his unblemished cheek. "You're the only person I can count on, Itachi, as my best friend," he said softly, holding out his eye with a small smile.

"Shisui..." Itachi swallowed, regarding his now-blind friend closely. Finally, he blinked.

The cawing tunes of a crow sounded above them. It dived and reached for the eye in Shisui's hand before scattering into a flurry of black feathers that fluttered around the two.

"Take my advice on this, Itachi," Shisui spoke again, carefully, with a different kind of serious. "I know you've done so many times before, but… Take a look at the stone tablet one more time." His expression was unreadable.

Itachi frowned. "The stone tablet?"

"Trust me," Shisui asserted. "Tell me you will."

Itachi's lips set in a grim line. "I will."

"Gomen, Itachi…" his friend said gravely, defeated. "I must leave this burden on your shoulders." And then Shisui straightened and looked right at him, as though he could see into him. "Please protect our village…and the honor of the Uchiha name."

The swirl of emotion in his voice was overwhelming. Itachi's chest constricted. "I will," he vowed to his best friend before hesitating. He took an uncertain step forward. "And what will you do?"

A strange smile played across Shisui's lips. "I have become a liability, Itachi. My death is necessary for the village to move forward." And then his friend took the few steps backwards that placed him on the edge of the cliff. "If I die, many things will change."

Itachi's heart stopped in his chest as a dawning, petrifying chill descended his spine. Without a moment's thought, he leapt for his friend, extending his arms to catch him. To stop him. "No, Shisui-"

He let go. "Don't try to stop me, Itachi... if you're truly my friend."

He hovered in the air for a brief moment that seemed to stretch for all eternity to Itachi. His hands closed around empty air, and it was in that heart-stopping moment that Itachi realized he wasn't going to reach him in time.

"SHISUI!" The scream finally tore from his throat. He stared, wide-eyed, as his friend fell to his death. His arm remained extended over the cliff, still reaching, still frozen, clutching at nothingness as he watched the Nakano river swallow the boy who'd been an older brother to him. His best friend...

The scream that was ripping at his throat knew no end. His lungs were on fire. He was suffocating, and it felt as though he'd swallowed a pound of bricks.

And then there was blinding pain. A pain that came as a flash, in piercing crimson reds that cut across his eyes, but its agony was nothing on the ache of his heart over his loss.

'Self-sacrifice. A nameless shinobi who protects peace from within its shadow.'

Shisui…

SHISUI!