CHAPTER 2
Enigma
Re-edited: 04 January 2019
Epigraph:
"Her story was a tad bit different.
Pull up your soul, listen to the vibrations she gives off;
it's deeper than the words she'll tell you.
You have to sit with her emotions,
her soul and voice to really understand."
—Sylvester McNutt.
ʚ—ɞ
For an agricultural town, Itachi decided, the place was rather desolate.
Their crop fields were barely alive if not already bereft of life. The vegetable beds were abysmal, bearing minimal yet unmarketable produce. Several lucrative barns were left unattended, rotting from the inside out despite its doubtless serviceability. Livestock that appeared more undernourished than its townsfolk roamed free, scavenging for food on the pitifully dried lands.
It was a dispiriting sight.
Most farming communities Itachi had been privileged to visit were all so full of life, yet this one seemed to let itself deteriorate to the ground. It had been onerous trying to find an inn to reside in for the duration of their reconnaissance. Now, as he and Shikamaru scouted the town for a potential lead, the ANBU Captain couldn't help but think this a hopeless attempt to salvage a mission that had failed before it could even begin.
How can one probe for answers when there was practically no one to interrogate?
There were no functioning community buildings, no pubs or restaurants they could spy in, and the local residents that did walk the streets were far too apprehensive to strike up a conversation with. The team was running short of options, and Itachi loathed the distinct pressure of failure that poked at his pride.
"Taichou, over there."
Looking towards the direction Shikamaru nudged at, Itachi set his sights on a quaint dango stand tucked in between two other crumbling constructs. It was open for business, surprisingly enough, a couple of persons walking out with the first smiles they had seen in this town.
"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. We might as well kill two birds with one stone," Shikamaru drawled as he buried his hands in his pockets.
Sighing, Itachi let the younger boy lead the way.
The stand was larger than he had expected. An open kitchen was nestled to one side, bordered off from the rest of the restaurant by a two-corner island counter. Rows of wooden benches and tables occupied the remaining area, a dozen locals enjoying the sweet delicacy in between them. Animated chatter resonated around the room.
It was antithetical; all the heart and soul the town outside lacked, flowed in abundance within the interior of this tiny establishment.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, may I help you?" A curvaceous redhead materialised before them, a wooden tray gripped over her stomach like a shield between her body and the two intruders.
"Ah, we were hoping to grab a bit to eat, miss," Shikamaru explained.
The young woman looked them up and down, searching—judging their authenticity. They passed, however minutely, seeing how she led them to the stools by the island. She quickly cleared away the empty plates and dirty glasses as they quietly took their seats.
"You're not from around here." It was a statement, not a question.
Itachi kept his silence, allowing Shikamaru to carry the conversation while he continued to survey the area for an oddity. The other guests appeared harmless enough, not a sign of tension in their postures that could indicate unfamiliarity to this little stand. Another woman—elderly judging by the slight hunch in her back—fanned the stove in the kitchen. Wafts of sweet aroma passed under Itachi's nose, and his stomach grumbled in response.
"We were travelling to the Land of Rivers but decided to make a rest stop so we could replenish our supplies. This happened to be the closest town."
It was almost imperceptible, but the girl's eyes narrowed. She didn't believe them any more than a mouse would trust a clawless tiger.
"You aren't fooling nobody here, boy," the elderly lady made her way towards them, skilfully carrying plates of dango and a sneer that she shot at the ANBU operatives. "This isn't exactly a place most people would visit. You have business here, but you aren't getting anything from anyone, let me tell ya."
Needless to say, their first visit to the stand had been fruitless. But as luck would have it, by frequenting it thrice-a-day throughout their stay in the minuscule town, Itachi managed to crack the rickety old bat enough for her to divulge some useful details.
According to her, there were three girls; two sisters and a cousin who arrived in the village less than a week before their, Itachi's ANBU team, own arrival. They claimed to be desperate for work. Having pitied the dirtied state they were in, she had housed them and offered each a position in the dango stand as waitresses and kitchen help. As grateful as the girls were, the old lady couldn't afford to give them sufficient pay. Business was slow in small towns like theirs, after all.
However, the new faces immediately caught the attention of a prominent member of Kurosawa's trade ring who frequented the dango stand. When the man baited them with a higher paying job, the girls had jumped at the opportunity.
"They were beautiful— innocent too—so it wasn't surprising that they managed to catch those bastards' attention. They didn't know any better, and I couldn't dissuade them. I was just happy at least one of them had a good head on her shoulders," the old widow had told him with a purse of her wrinkled lips. It was evident to Itachi she had grown some fondness for them within the short time frame they spent together.
"What exactly were they recruited to do?" Shikamaru dared to ask.
"Servants."
She didn't need to elaborate. The grave look etched unto her face told them it was a glorified title for a salacious job, and it pained Itachi to admit it wasn't out of the ordinary. It was normal for exceptionally beautiful civilian girls who lacked the protection of a father or a husband to be unwittingly roped into prostitution.
It was a horrific reality they lived in.
The sisters immediately moved into Kurosawa's compound despite protests from their older cousin, and not a soul had heard from either girl until the night they came knocking on the old lady's house a couple of hours after the battle at Kurosawa's had ceased. They had been distraught. Their hair was dishevelled, and angry rips lined their clothes. Red welts around their necks, purpling bruises on their arms and dried blood and soot covering every inch of their exposed skin— it was irrefutable evidence of abuse as well as of the fight that had brought down the hideout.
"How are the girls doing now?" Itachi's instincts itched. It was a far stretch, but he had an inkling they were the answer to their mystery.
"Only Kami would know, boy," the old woman hissed, slamming a dishful of yomogi dango on the counter in front of him. This storytelling may have started out of his prodding, but it was obvious the woman still doubted his intentions. "I sent them packing the very next morning. Packed them enough food and money to last them 'til they find elsewhere to stay."
Shikamaru, staying true to their ruined guise, swiped a stick from Itachi's plate and bit into the soft dumpling. "Why would you send them away?"
"No one ever moved on from a tragedy by lingering in the place it occurred," replied a tinkling voice behind them. It was the old widow's granddaughter, the young redhead who waitressed the restaurant.
Bingo.
ʚ—ɞ
"We're presuming the attackers had set fire to the building before the walls were knocked down by brute force. The surrounding grounds had been deliberately upturned so the walls would cave into the underground hideout—a mediocre cover-up, but effective nonetheless. They made sure no one would come into contact with the bodies. Whoever these people are, they clearly wanted to hide their tracks."
The ANBU Captain observed quietly as the Hokage leant forwards to rest his elbows on the desk, his fingers subsequently intertwining. The sun setting beyond the window behind him glowed sullen shades orange and red that accentuated the displeasure shadowing his face. It was unusual to see Minato sport such a sombre look. Gone were the welcoming smiles, unnervingly replaced by downturned lips and hardened eyes that contradicted his mellow personality.
Itachi and his team waited patiently as their leader dissected the information they had just relayed, well aware he was already calculating their next course of action.
"And what of Kurosawa?" the Hokage asks.
"Tadashi has confirmed with his Byakugan; Kurosawa Shigeo's body was one of the many buried beneath the remains of the house. He and his first-hand subordinates are all confirmed dead."
"What about the children? Were their bodies found?"
"No, Hokage-sama," Shikamaru replied, "Not one body befitting that of children ages two to fifteen were found. There were also no traces of footprints or wheel tracks, so we are unsure if they managed to flee during the battle. It's possible the attackers' intention was only to take down the organisation. They might have chosen to spare the children's lives. However, as of the moment, their whereabouts and what happened to them remain unknown."
Minato's brows dipped in concern, contemplating the possibility of the children slipping away from their captors. "Do you suppose the attackers belong to a different organisation? The children could have escaped the hands of one child trafficking Lord only to be captured by another."
Shikamaru jerked his head in agreement. "There is a high likelihood."
"Our priority is to find them. Are we sure there are no witnesses?"
"Positive, Hokage-sama."
Most of the townsfolk may have been aware of Kurosawa's black dealings, but none ever dared to venture into his territory, more so when the attack occurred. They chose to wait within the refuge of their households until the sounds of battle had ceased.
"Then those girls you spoke of, they're our only lead," Minato stated. The ANBU Captain would not have relayed the tale if he did not deem it important. No, Itachi was far too calculative for that. "If not, they hold information concerning it and the children."
Itachi's nod was stiff. "I believe so, Hokage-sama."
Minato sighed, long and deep, before he turned to regard his secretary who stood mutely by his side all this while. "Haruka-san, please arrange for an ANBU tracking squad. Make sure there's both an Inuzuka and an Aburame in the team. Fake refugees or not, I want those girls found immediately."
"Yes, Hokage-sama," she bowed, leaving promptly to carry out her given duties.
Minato addressed the haggard team in front of him, "Until then, this mission is off your hands. Go home, gentlemen, and rest well. You deserve it."
They knew a dismissal when they heard one.
"Except you Itachi. I have other matters to discuss with you."
Itachi frowned inwardly. As far as he was concerned, he has not done anything that warrants a private discussion with the Hokage, so he jumped into his first instinctual conclusion. "Did Sasuke get into trouble again?"
He wouldn't put it past his foolish little brother. Team 7 was quite notorious for their… misdemeanours. Their outrageous transgressions on unsuspecting villagers never failed to drive both their mothers into hysterics.
"No, not this time Itachi." Minato chuckled in good humour.
Itachi heaved an inward sigh of relief. At least now he won't have to suffer through a meal of his mother's lectures for Sasuke that somehow, someway, he was always entangled into.
They waited patiently while the rest of the team disappeared in a flash. Shikamaru, staying true to the Naras' inherent laziness, opted to leave through the conventional use of the door. It amused Itachi how the younger man views shunshin jutsu as more trouble than it's worth when most considered it the faster means of travel.
A waste of chakra plus energy, Shikamaru says.
Once alone, Minato's hands moved in sequential ease to form the seals of a jutsu that would soundproof the room as well as alert them of any approaching figures. Itachi raised an inquisitive brow.
He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. The last time they were in a similar situation, his little brother had been sent on an out-of-the-book infiltration mission and he had been called to be privy to the grander scheme of things. The Hokage knew if there was anyone who could drag the young Uchiha renegade back home, it would be his sanctimonious older brother, and they couldn't afford that.
Situations like these were either one or the other; life-altering or deadly. But no matter how much he despised it, Itachi was loyal to a mission before he was loyal to himself. So he stayed rooted, awaiting an order he had no doubt would flip his world from down under.
Minato leaned on the backrest of his seat, propping his elbows on the armrest while his fingers interlaced just above his lap. He leisurely regarded the Uchiha heir as he searched for words to better phrase what he was about to say.
The boy—no, man—before him was a prodigious shinobi who embodied a raw talent for the art of war that now, surely, surpasses his own. He was sharp and unrelenting when needed, but he also had a heart of gold. And it was his natural affinity for peace that Minato betted on.
Clearing his throat, the Hokage finally asked, "What do you know about Kuro no Senshi?"
Kuro no Senshi? Itachi thought to himself. He was well aware of the man and his work; no self-respecting shinobi remained ignorant about him.
The alias was whispered amongst his colleagues, most often in contempt, but there were times when it was spoken in esteem. He's also heard of the man's endeavours through the eager mouths of village busybodies, blown out of proportion and embellished as if he were a hero instead of a nameless, faceless fugitive who continued to elude the grasp of every hunter sent out for his blood.
"He's a vigilante taking shinobi duty into his own hands. His bouts of illicit acts are random and far in between with no connection or pattern to it " Itachi's voice was devoid of judgement as he replied, "He leaves no traces, and no one has ever caught him in the act."
"And what do you think of his…work?"
Itachi cast a speculative glance at the Hokage, idly assessing where this conversation was headed. Minato looked entirely at ease, making it seem as if they were having a mundane conversation over a cup of tea instead of discussing a topic sensitive enough to have required him to soundproof the room from eavesdroppers.
"I would say it is out-of-line. Kuro no Senshi's interferences don't just prevent successful completion of officially allocated missions, but also causes disruptions in the shinobi system. It leads to clients refusing to pay the fees under the excuse of our shinobi not having done the job themselves." Itachi paused, hesitating as he concluded a plausible reason for the Hokage to have breached this topic. "This enrages some, demotivates others."
Spoken like a true warrior of rank.
Minato assessed him, from his impassive demeanour to his unwavering gaze. He knew Itachi, though, and those were not the words he wanted to hear. "Tell me Itachi, is that a member of the shinobi workforce speaking or the boy I watched grow into a respectable man?"
The ANBU Captain faltered. As head of the village, Minato was one of those most desperate to catch Kuro no Senshi. The man was a flight risk they cannot let live.
But then again, it was Minato who always encouraged him to question conventional ideals.
"Personally, I do not believe he is committing a crime," the Uchiha heir admitted, "Despite his interference, Kuro no Senshi's motives appear to be similar to our own; protect our young, the elderly and all those who are unable to protect themselves. He has not done anything that might indicate otherwise."
The satisfied quirk of Minato's lips didn't escape the seasoned Captain's attention. It was gone as soon as it appeared, but he noticed it.
"I believe you know what this is all about," the Hokage stated.
"You want me to uncover his identity." A feat no one has managed to accomplish, but trust his leader to exploit his animosity for the ambiguous and the unknown.
"And his motives, yes." Minato pulled out a thick file from his drawer and slid it across the desk towards Itachi. "The Intel Division team currently tasked with investigating Kuro no Senshi has hit a wall, so the case has been at a standstill for months now. The council is getting impatient."
Itachi stepped forward to grab the file. He flipped through the pages, briefly scanning the information gathered over the years. It was relatively useless, needless to say. "This is a list of failed missions possibly related to Kuro no Senshi and a whole lot of speculations with no sound proof."
Minato shrugged. "Which is why I'm assigning you to this case Itachi. It will be secondary to your other missions, but I believe you can handle it."
Being one of the very few people Itachi admired, Minato's faith in his abilities humbled him, and he felt the need to live up to the man's expectations. "Yes, Hokage-sama."
"And it seems you already have your lead," Minato informs him, a slight grin gracing his face.
ʚ—ɞ
The melodious chirrups of cicadas pierced through the clamour of the busy market streets.
Diverse, makeshift stalls lined the streets, the vendors behind them bargaining the prices of their merchandise with their customers. Old man Kenta who owned the fruit stand was trying but failing to coax a newlywed wife to buy his overpriced produce. An older woman standing in front of the booth beside them shook her head in a mix of exasperated amusement. She walked over to lend the younger lady a hand, her extensive experience in handling Kenta coming in handy. The old coot grew more stubborn by the day.
Exuberant children playing catch ran between the legs of the adults strolling down the pebbled road, stepping over puddles and dirtying their clothes as their contagious laughter echoed in the ears of their mothers who yelled at them, warning them to not get lost in the crowd. A dry breeze floated by, carrying the tantalising scent of freshly baked bread, cakes, and deep-fried appetisers. The aroma of spices used to make cold noodles, and infused tea tickled past the noses of potential customers, tempting their growling stomachs.
It had rained, again, the night prior and petrichor lingered in the air, enveloping the buzzing village with its sweet comfort despite the sweltering heat of the sun beating down upon them.
Summer has finally arrived.
Uchiha Itachi sat atop a wide, wooden electric post overlooking central Konoha, one leg tucked beneath him, the other hanging languidly down the side of the pole. Twirling a shuriken between his fingers, he scanned the mass of people below him. Even though his position put him directly under the fiery gaze of the sun, it still gave him an expansive view of the ever-bustling, congested market streets. It was the ideal spot to be when scouring for someone specific.
And Itachi was scouring for someone specific; a person he hasn't seen in a while.
Right after the meeting with the Hokage, he had gone home to grab a change of clothes along with some of his mother's grilled onigiri to temporarily placate his hunger. Nothing else had required his immediate attention, so Itachi eagerly made his way to his regular spot in hopes of stealing a glance at the person who unknowingly pilfered his curiosity.
A glimpse of green, a flash of pink; at the sight of her, Itachi felt the corner of his lips tug into a smile.
She was facing his general direction. Long pink tresses styled into a braid and swung side to side behind her as she stomped past the crowd that parted in her wake. Viridian eyes gleamed with barely repressed fury. Her nose scrunched in irritation, and even from this distance, Itachi could see her lips move as she muttered unseemly words that would no doubt make the elderly reprimand her.
Haruno Sakura, the one and only beloved daughter of Haruno Kizashi and Mebuki. The family of three was quite the scandal trailblazer. When the young matriarch-to-be upended her family from the Haruno compound years ago and moved into the house they lived in now, the whole of Konoha was thrown into an uproar.
They were the first of their lineage to ever evacuate the clan compound, let alone the first of its heirs to disown their family. As the eldest child of the previous Haruno head, Mebuki was condemned to extremes for her bold act of rebellion. No woman was supposed to take control of her own life, and no true man should allow his spouse to dictate his. Yet the Haruno's sudden departure from their clan was exactly that and it raised a whole lot of rumours that the village gossip vine had eagerly roistered.
To this day, these vicious rumours remain unsubstantiated.
And Haruno Sakura… well, she was a hefty load of riddles all on her own.
ʚ—ɞ
The first time they met, she was twelve, and he was seventeen.
Sakura was but a wisp of a girl who was barely at the age where she should be back talking to an adult, but there she was in all her glory, lips curled back into a sneer and hands firm on her jutted hips as she argued with the owner of the infamous masks store.
His own little brother and the Hokage's son stood on either side of her. Naruto looked panicked, desperately attempting to calm the riled girl, but Sasuke remained unabashed. A permanent scowl etched unto his face as he glared at the man who was stupid enough to argue with a child.
Itachi had been perceptive enough to guess the two renegades of the newly assigned Team 7 had more than likely been on another pranking rampage, but he couldn't quite fit the pink haired spitfire into the equation.
Heads turned, and the two engaged in a heated scream fest fell silent at his approach. He addressed the older man, inclining his head politely in greeting. "I apologise for any trouble they have caused. Please, feel free to send the bill for any damages to the Uchiha head, and you will be compensated generously."
The best way to handle these situations was to retreat fast before the threat could explode.
"But Aniki—"
"Sasuke, you are causing a scene." Itachi made sure his voice was low enough so only those within his immediate reach could hear him. "Now is not the time. Apologise for your behaviour."
His admonishing provoked Sasuke, but his foolish little brother just grits his teeth in retaliation. From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl scan their surroundings. When the implications of the growing crowd and their fervent whispering finally dawned on her, she had the decency to look embarrassed. He could understand, though. The culture they lived in overlooked the misdemeanours of young boys like Naruto and Sasuke, excusing their deplorable actions as a result of them being, well, boys.
Young girls like her did not have the privilege of equal treatment. A slip of a sharp tongue, an act deemed improper, a strand of hair out of place, and they would be scrutinised from head to toe, condemned for their unladylike behaviour and reprimanded for such gall.
She took the initiative to seek forgiveness, bowing deeply at her waist, pink locks raining down her shoulders to curtain her reddening cheeks. Sasuke and Naruto soon followed her lead despite their apparent reluctance. "Forgive me Takeshi-san, I was out of line. It was highly disrespectful of me, and I assure you, it won't happen again."
The man only grunted in response.
It took Itachi aback when the girl turned to him only to bow once more. "I apologise for inconveniencing you as well, Uchiha-san."
And with that, she spun on her heels, sauntering away with what dignity she had left, her chin held high and her shoulders straight. Itachi commended her maturity in handling the aftermath of her actions. It was a manner his brother and his brother's teammate could afford to learn.
Later that same day, as they sat at the dinner table, he let curiosity get the best of him. Itachi couldn't quite get her out of his mind. "Why was she arguing with Takeshi-san?"
Sasuke blinked up at him for a moment before replying with caution, "because Takeshi-san insulted Naruto."
It made him think, mayhaps she didn't leave a favourable first impression, but she had her heart in the right place. She might be a better person than he had first judged her to be.
ʚ—ɞ
The second time they met, she was thirteen, and he was eighteen.
Itachi honestly did not expect to meet the audacious pink-haired girl once more, but he did anyway, and it was only a handful of months after their first encounter. Like the last time, he was out on a hunt for his brother at his mother's behest when he chanced upon her walking out of Ichiraku Ramen.
It wasn't uncommon to catch girls of civilian descent who worked for a living to be a little untidy, but it was a sight to behold when a lady affiliated to a clan runs around with dirt smeared on her cheeks and her hair in disarray. His sharp eyes even spotted the smudges of mud on the hem of her silk kimono. Judging by the embroidered white circles lining the length of her sleeves, she hailed from the reclusive Haruno clan.
He could already see the disapproving looks she was receiving. He was sure she did too. Instead of feeling ashamed or attempting to straighten out her outfit and hair like every other maiden he knew, she stood proudly as if she couldn't care less about what the rest of the world had to say.
Itachi could applaud her courage to disregard societal expectations and overlook judgements, but it also minutely raised his concern. For how long can she persist to defy the norm before she crumbles under the pressure of society? Even if she doesn't, surely they would force her to surrender.
The pink-haired minx seemed surprised to see him, stumbling backwards before she steadied herself on her geta. She clasped her hands in front of her, bowing in greeting. "Hello Uchiha-san, it's been a while. Have you been well?"
"Hello," Itachi racked his brain for her name, but he realised he never learnt it. It would also be rude if he were to address her as a Haruno based on mere assumptions, so he settled for a generic response. "I've been well. And you?"
Her smile, he noticed, brightened up her eyes. The captivating sight compelled his gaze to linger longer than what could have been proper. He was relieved when she didn't seem to detect it, or perhaps she chose to ignore it. "I'm doing fine Uchiha-san. You must be looking for Sasuke. He's inside, still eating."
It would be obscene of him to point out he was a shinobi; he had already detected his brother's chakra signature. So Itachi only nodded.
"Pardon me, but I have to leave now. There are some errands I have to run for my mother." With another flourish of a bow and a brief wave, the girl spun on her heels, traipsing off before he could respond. She seemed to do that a lot, Itachi thought wryly, bowing then walking away.
Unwittingly, he continued to watch her receding figure against his better judgement. His brows drew to a knot when he noticed an almost imperceptible limp on her right foot. It would have sneaked past the attention of most since she was trying her utmost to hide it, but he noticed. Itachi noticed, and it troubled him.
Just what exactly had she been doing?
Shaking away thoughts of the girl, he was about to head into the ramen stand to search for his foolish sibling when the dark-haired, temperamental teen exited the shop. "Otouto."
"Aniki." Sasuke acknowledged his presence with a nod.
In the act of silent agreement, the brothers trekked side-by-side as they headed home. After minutes of contemplating, it was Itachi broke the comfortable silence they had enveloped themselves in. "Who is she?"
He knew he didn't need to elaborate. Sasuke was smart enough to know who he was talking about. "Sakura. You've met her before, a few months ago."
"Ah."
Haruno Sakura. It wasn't a particularly astounding name but coupled with her hair, her parents had made sure she would be unforgettable. He was just glad he no longer had to keep referring to her as the 'pink-haired girl.' It's been long overdue.
"Is she your friend?"
Sasuke grunted. "I guess you could say that."
Prompted by his older brother's questioning gaze, Sasuke went into more detail. "She's the typical lady obsessing over their clothes and fawning over every male they deem attractive, but, at least, she isn't afraid to speak her mind. She doesn't whine about getting a little messed up. Plus, she knows how to have fun."
Itachi thinks his little brother doesn't entirely realise how contradictory what he had just said was. No 'proper lady' would dare be seen in public in a less than perfect state let alone speak her mind. Not if their suppressive culture had any say in it.
Idly, Itachi wondered if her knowing how to have fun meant she lent a hand to Team 7's juvenile pranks.
ʚ—ɞ
At their third encounter, he was barely twenty-one, and she sixteen; an age where she was too old to be considered a child, yet still too young to be called a woman.
Over the past handful of years, he had caught glimpses of her around the village, but there were fleeting and far in between. It didn't prepare him for the astonishment that struck when he saw her emerge from one of the operating rooms of Konoha Hospital wearing blue scrubs and latex gloves, both startlingly stained with blood. Her distinctive hair was tucked beneath a surgical cap, and a mask hid most of her face, but those eyes that rivalled the colour of the first spring leaves readily gave her identity away.
Her presence in a shinobi medical ward shocked him even more than the alert he received earlier about the ambush Team 7 had encountered, leading both Naruto and his brother to require immediate medical attention.
She peeled away her gloves, dumping it in a metallic bin then proceeded to wash and disinfect her hands on the sink. The automatic doors of the operating theatre slip open, and she turned to face the male surgeon who walked out wearing the same attire she did.
"Haruno, come with me to brief their families about—" her colleague halted when he noticed Itachi. He pulled down his mask, revealing the frown lining his lips. "What are you doing here?"
It was only then Itachi remembered where he was. In the midst of his restlessness, he had entered the personnel-only scrub area despite the protests from several nurses. Standing there now, he can't quite recall what compelled him to do so or even what he had hoped to achieve by it.
"Uchiha-san," her voice was gentle, coaxing him to face her. She too had tugged down the mask below her chin. "Why don't we head over to your parents so you can be briefed altogether. Would that be satisfactory, Hiroshi-san?"
The male surgeon and Sakura shared a look, seemingly having a silent conversation he clearly shouldn't be privy to. When the man, Hiroshi, nodded his consent, Sakura's lips tilted a fraction. She allowed Hiroshi to lead the way to the waiting area where the rest of his family, the Yondaime and his wife lingered in bathed silence.
If he hadn't been observing her as intensely as he did, Itachi would have missed the way her back straightened or how she tore off the mask, hastily tucking it into her pants pocket. Her fingers smoothed out the front of her scrub before she greeted and bowed before their elders. She appeared more graceful—controlled.
Itachi took his place next to his mother, never once taking his eyes off of her as she took turns with her fellow medic to explain the surgical procedure and their diagnosis of Team 7's current health. The conversation between the adults deduced his brother was alive and breathing, and that was all Itachi needed to know.
Sakura had her hands clasped in front of her, her feet together as she stood with perfect posture. She didn't fidget or shift attention, portraying a refined lady despite the blood-stained clothes and weariness lining her eyes. There were no traces of the spitfire who didn't think twice to defend her friend from an ignorant adult or the audacious girl who walked through a midday crowd looking no less than a bedraggled mess, returning the disapproving looks she received with apathy.
No, right this moment stood a young woman who had been taught all her life to be no less than perfect in her appearance, demeanour and attitude. Itachi thinks he would have been fooled if her status as a medic did not reiterate her rebellious streak.
So this was what she had been up to during the last couple of years. She followed the footsteps of the women before her who despised their restrictive society; she became a medic, the only profession requiring the use of chakra that women were allowed to join. Itachi didn't know the exact mechanics, but women had an unrivalled ability to control chakra beyond the precision men were able. It was fact Senju Tsunade fought tooth and nail to prove, so women were, at the bare minimum, given the opportunity to learn medical ninjutsu.
What did Sakura's parents think of it? Her clan? Surely they met her desire to learn medical jutsu with disapproval? They must have objected, prohibiting her from going anywhere near the hospital.
One thing was for certain, however. Sakura stirred in him an intense desire to understand her. He wanted to unravel all her secrets until they were laid bare before him. It was irrational, unreasonable, absurd, but Itachi decided he didn't care.
He needed to figure out what made Haruno Sakura, Haruno Sakura.
ʚ—ɞ
After their encounter at the hospital, whenever he had time to spare, Itachi found himself in the shadows, casually observing how her behaviour changed with each individual interaction.
Most days, she was a docile lady of status who stuck within the boundary misogyny had set for her. She practised her household skills to hone them, embroidered—quite terribly—in her spare time, and attended tea ceremonies if not hosting one herself. Like every other woman residing in the Fire Country, she gossiped about the eligible bachelors of Konoha. She visited the market often, went on walks around the village with her friends and wasted away the rest of her day when she wasn't working at the hospital.
It was a monotonous life, and Itachi questioned, not for the first time, why women weren't given an equal opportunity to experience the adventurous thrills of a shinobi.
Sakura was normal. She appeared normal.
But there were instances her impeccable façade slipped.
The moment she has to deal with a problematic patient or whenever she hears a sexist remark, she throws away the beside manners, casts aside the etiquettes drilled into her before she even learnt to walk, and contests them in ways ladies were taught never to do. At times, although subtly, she retaliates through physical means. Like that night she threw an apple across the street towards a drunkard stubbornly yanking an unwilling girl towards him.
It surprised him when she hit her target. Maybe it was a lucky shot, but the secure way she aimed rang with familiarity if not training.
Now, at the edge of twenty-three, and she at nineteen, Itachi sat atop the electric post, watching her manoeuvre around the crowd, thinking of how three years of continuously monitoring her did nothing to satiate his curiosity nor did it curtail his interest. If anything else, it only painted Haruno Sakura into a more perplexing mystery he desperately wanted to solve.
"Really, little cousin, I will never understand why you don't just approach her and attempt an actual conversation. You know, instead of being a creep."
Shisui had a tendency to abuse the use of his shunshin technique. It prompted Itachi to quickly adapt his senses to the older Uchiha's spontaneous arrivals and equally abrupt departures. It no longer took him off-guard, so he spared his cousin no glance.
Sakura had stopped moving. Standing in the middle of the road, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One second. Two seconds. Three. Her fisted hands uncurled, the rigidity of her posture relaxed. When she peeked her eyes open once more, all traces of her previous anger had fled, replaced by a sickeningly polite smile.
It was a habit of hers; taking deep breaths to douse her temper. He wonders what incited her rage this time.
Itachi quipped, "You're right, you wouldn't understand."
Admittedly, he didn't know if even he, himself, understood. His snooping began out of impulse. Never once did he think too deeply about his methods. He chose to observe from afar because it was a more accessible, less problematic course of action that would not reduce him to a troublesome pest. If he had spoken to her, she would have been guarded. She would be a lady with a socially acceptable image to upkeep, not the girl with a slick attitude he finds intriguing.
"Maybe you'd like her a lot better if you actually spoke to her Itachi," Shisui suggested, "so you could ask her things instead of trying to figure it out on your own."
Sakura soon disappeared into a shop, cutting off his view of her. A tad disappointed, Itachi turned to a less favourable sight. His older cousin stood with his arms crossed on the roof nearest to the electric post he sat on. "I doubt she'd be vocal about her hatred towards our bigoted society."
"True, but if you let your own opinions be known, perhaps she would be more open."
"Informing her of my opinions wouldn't change the fact that she would be condemned by others for merely agreeing."
"But no one needs to know, little cousin."
Itachi sighed. Sometimes he wondered if Shisui pretended to be dense simply for the kicks or if he truly was obtuse. "I meant that she still wouldn't voice her say because she'd be afraid of the repercussions if she did."
Shisui regarded him with a look that he couldn't quite decipher. "Itachi, she's not a person who worries over such repercussions. If she were, you wouldn't have been observing her for the past three years."
"Perhaps."
"What, that's all you have to say?" His only response was a cocked brow. Shisui grunted in return. "You're sure about your decision? Marriage is an entirely different issue, Itachi."
"I am aware," he replied, hoping to placate his cousin's unfounded worries, "I'm not going into this blindly, Shisui. I've taken the needs of our clan into account before coming to this decision. Besides, nothing has been finalised just yet. We'll see how things turn out."
Heaving a weary sigh, Shisui shrugged his shoulders. "I really hope you know what you're doing. But enough of that. Your father is looking for you. It sounds like the elders have completed the proposal."
Restoring the shuriken into his weapons pouch in one swift motion, Itachi stood. Casting one last look at the shop Sakura had yet to emerge from, he turned towards the direction of the Uchiha compound. "Let's go."
In a flash, they were gone.
If all goes according to plan, then Itachi would see Sakura a lot more often, except this time it would no longer be from the shadows.
AN:- So, here you go. The second chapter of PH. I know it's Itachi-centric, but I swear everything mentioned in this chapter will be related to the story as a whole, including the mention of the Haruno Clan.
Who here pieced together that Sakura's and Itachi's mission were one and the same? Ooh and let's have a little bet (I don't know if I could really call it that). Let's see who could guess correctly about what Sakura was angry about. Even Itachi is curious ;)
I hope you enjoyed it!