This needed so much work on it o.o Inconsistencies managed. Crap argument altered. First mentioning of SasuSaku.

I changed it a fair bit, it's also about 3000 words longer.

Revised: 10/02/09

I see it in your eyes

There is something

That you hide from me

Is there a reason why?

Lasgo- Something


Chasing the Moon

Chapter Three- New Dawn


The sky was pewter grey, its pallor washed out by a monotonous, mizzling rain. She remembered the sky; there wasn't really much else to focus on at the time. The colour seemed burned into her memory. Her eyes probed these miserable skies, her gaze so ambitious and grasping it could have reached through the clouds.

Sakura was searching for something, but she wasn't sure what that was.

She stood dazed and confused, unsure of why she was unable to move. Her skin and hair was wet, and a chill mingled on the breeze, but her body was warm. It was only when something velvety and enticing brushed her lips did Haruno Sakura realise that she was being kissed.

The feeling came so quick, and Sakura was entirely unprepared for the contact. She felt hazy, her mind heavy and foggy, as if she were drunk. Her body fought as the surprising intrusion appeared to churn her defences into action. His touch did not lessen, the act was not given up, and Sakura slowly felt herself melting to the whims and desires of the kiss' perpetrator. Still unsure, but now fully entranced, Sakura sighed at the softness of his mouth. Inside, it was smooth and soft, its core like velveteen. He tasted of salt and raindrops, and a hint jasmine filled the air surrounding the couple, as if it were raising form the sodden earth.

For the moment, Sakura was quite unaware that this was all a dream; the feelings and sights were too lucid, the breath on her cheek too real. His lips were soft and succulent as they brushed against her own, taunting her senses with a whispered promise of raw and wanton pleasures. His was so deliciously fiery to touch, so addictive. His hair was wet, yet the strands were smoother to touch than cashmere.

Black… Sakura thinks, recognising the colour, though her vision is blurred as desire misted this dream.

The acknowledgment quickly escapes her, replaced by a shuddering as her body is pinned against a wall, the motion almost violent. Her neck is attacked by kisses.

The hands of her seducer roam along Sakura's powerful thighs, the same deft fingers slip up along her stomach, inching towards her breasts, the ministrations just rough enough to drive any hot-blooded human being into an aching frenzy.

Something is murmured against her neck, but all she understands is the sensation of the cool, tickling pitter-patter of raindrops as they maraud her skin. The voice's familiarity is overlooked, the recognition cast-aside. Lust, just as much as love, is blinding.

The lover's attentions become crass, his hands move to her backside, and he callously sinks his fingertips into the soft, cushioned flesh. Sakura emits a satisfied grown, tilting her head back to allow him further access to her neck.

Who is this man? Her fingers grip tight in his hair. She watches him nip at her skin, bruising it, branding it, but fails to make any sense of the situation or to his mysterious identity.

His fingers attack her, stimulating her skin as if she were wearing no clothes at all.

Who is he…? She can't quite reach it, can't quite see past this cold, lingering fog that clouds her recognition.

"See through it, Sakura," His words reverberate through the air, and her ears are successful in capturing the words through the dream. "See through it,"

As he repeats these words, Sakura glances down and her hand moves under the man's chin, forcing his face to hers. What confronted her were eyes so scarlet they almost glowed. Their colour was like that of danger, of warning… as beautiful as freshly sliced rubies. The dots and circles of black stand out, like ink blotches upon red paper.

Like lanterns in festivals…

His face moves close to hers once again, but her eyes never close, never leave his face. She is torn with confusion, with misunderstanding. Who is this?

He kisses her, deeply, ardently, and her eyes can do nothing but close and wallow in the passion. Sakura trembles with more than pleasure, her body wracks with a terror she had never felt before.

His lips move away very slightly, just out of reach. Had she have wanted to join them again, she would have to stretch her neck.

"See through the fog," He tells her again, and the enigma encased in the words intrigues Sakura to no end. But who is he, who is this man? She feels she should know, feels it is in her interest to know.


Sakura's eyes crack open, and for a moment nothing has been altered from her dream. Her eyes were thick and blurry; she thought she was still trapped in the fog. The shivers left from the dream still adorned her skin like an invisible rash. Then the moments ticked by with the loud thump of the second-hand, and realisation flooded the kunoichi.

Of all the effing nights.

The dream had been too vivid, too powerful, and it felt like Sakura had had hardly any sleep at all. She stumbled from bed, in quite the similar fashion of yesterday morning, the only exception being that she had been hung over and not exhausted. The clock face of the alarm showed a sharp five o'clock.

Wonderful. Sakura snarled inwardly, fumbling around the room for quite awhile, looking for her bathroom. It didn't help with the flat being colossal. Her feet were not used to the path, or the fluffy carpet, and she ended up in the lounge. Even better…

Sakura figured she might as well draw the blinds and wake up a little before attempting to locate the bathroom once again, so the young woman stumbled around the living space, hand feebly groping for the string dangling beside her window.

Her effort came with success, and the blind zipped up, the movement accompanied by an array of post-dawn sunshine spilling through the room like a glass over turned. The ferocity of the light caused Sakura to flinch, but her eyes adjusted eventually. A headache pulsed through her temples, but she was able to quell her hangover with a little care and focus of chakra.

The room was soon abuzz. Sakura whipped back into her bedroom, and the radio blared as she prepared herself for a brand new day. The affects of the dream had lessened, and in her rush she had pretty much forgotten the majority of it already. All that was left of those shady thoughts were the fog and the rain, but she could ignore those. Sanguinity and optimism swelled in her chest, making her relax and remain calm, despite the nagging anxiety that clawed at her cheerful blanket.

He's not that scary, She thought, head held high, shoulders straight and posture near perfect. He's odd, certainly… and handsome, to say the least…

A slight anxiety tinged with excitement filled as she realised that she would reunite with the Uchiha. The memories of his overwhelming presence, observed from last night, seemed to have softened, the vibrancy of his sharingan faded.

Perhaps they were washed away with the rain? Sakura couldn't tell; her thoughts didn't dwell, seeing as she seemed in high spirits.

The clock on the wall ticked and ticked away, showing nearing five thirty. Sakura gazed to and from the clock and the full-length mirror.

Taking one last look, she smiled in acceptance and turned on her heels, ready to meet the brooding Commander.


The sky was like soup, the colours bubbling and boiling to a frenzied birth of new light. The dawn was upon this new day, and just as before, Itachi was there to watch it.

The reddish-gold meandered along the water's surface, racing faster and faster as the clouds cleared and made way for the sun and its violent awakening. The colours were a distraction, and Itachi was unable to allow his eyes to slide shut.

The Uchiha frowned, and frustration swelled in the air around him. He was evidently unable meditate. This sky was too commanding, too forceful; the way it turned the sea into liquid inferno was intoxicating, beckoning.

When he opened his eyes, the water blazed a bright vermilion.

It was an ocean the colour of carnage.


What a beautiful place. Sakura thinks, her eyes wandering as she walks towards the hospital. Eastern was a place better to see in the light. A few ninja were already awake; the smell of cooking wafted sumptuously along a cool breeze. The trees swayed, leaves rustling and birds chirping. Sakura glanced behind her and was able to recognise the window to her bedroom. She was correct: Eastern was much better to behold in the sunlight.

It was a pity this place was rapt with impending battles, the thoughts of war looming like a bleak shadow; the site would not hold well and all this beauty would be torn to shreds… That was the most likely conclusion, anyway, as in a world this bitter, such destruction was inevitable, such violence was no more than a way of life.

Sakura sped to the hospital doors and entered into the spacious lobby. The smell of washed floors and alcoholic disinfectant lingered, but it was a smell she was used to. Eyes scanning the room, she stepped towards the reception desk, where a fellow white coat-clad doctor sat skimming through what looked like a pile of medical reports. He was handsome, appearing more the bookish intellectual than shinobi.

He glanced up and smiled, " Good morning,"

"'Morning," Sakura smiled back and halted in front of the wide desk.

"You must be Haruno Sakura?" He stood up, quickly discarding the papers.

Sakura nodded in response, and bowed politely, "Yes, it's nice to meet you…?"

"Dr. Hirose Satori, pleasant to meet you too," He reciprocated with a well-bred bow. His voice was crisp, educated, and Sakura guessed he was not of the usual shinobi background. " I've heard much about you and your skills- quite the growing legend in the medical profession,"

Sakura blushed at the complement. "Oh- thank you! But I'm nothing compared my Master,"

"Oh Lady Hokage is indeed great, I agree, and I envy your training, really," He said, a small glint of appraisal in his eyes.

"Forgive me but I've not heard much of you from around these parts," In comparison to normal shinobi, there weren't so many medic-nins. Sakura found it strange not to have heard of him.

"Oh, I'm not a shinobi. No, no." Satori shook his head, as if the idea were plain terrible. "Just a humble doctor, and quite glad of it too. I prefer research to anything else. Anyway, I've been asked to show you the ropes by the Commander- and he'll be arriving shortly, in about an hour or so…"

An hour? Sakura couldn't help her eyebrows twitch. I have to wait for him to turn up when he got me up at this hour?!

"… he's asked me to show you around, and I don't think I need to patronise you anymore than that, seeing as you're no still- wet-behind-the-ears medical student,"

Sakura smiled over her evident annoyance. "One only stops being a student when they've learnt everything to know about life- as my Master would say,"

"Haha!" He chirps, and his eyes are too bright, the way he played with his. "Lady Hokage's wisdom?"

Sakura grins. "Well, you could say unintentional wisdom, but each to their own,"


Itachi traipses back to the base; his feet finding the way like second nature. He barely thinks of the long grass caressing his thighs, they feel numb, and his mind is elsewhere as his legs walk on their own accord. He gazes at the bright sun, its light dulled by a rush of soft clouds.

The Haruno girl should be arriving now… Prehaps he'd make an early appearance? Leaving her with Satori would buy him some time to mull things over before speaking with her.

It seemed there was far too much to think about at the moment. It was like the sunrise; too many colours to count; too many colours that merged, mingled and battled, fighting for supremacy. They became indistinguishable from one another, a well of brightness. The colours swam through his head, a kaleidoscope of reds, purples, pinks and yellows. They made his head thump, and the throbbing caused his eyes to bolt close.

If shinobi were sent into early retirement, it was usually because of the stress of all the death and all the battles and all the maimed faces of those the had killed. Unless they lived and breathed this kind of life with ultimate enthusiasm, without an inkling of hesitation or rebuke, without questioning their own humanity, then many found the ideas grating on them in time; a millstone made of the densest lead grinding perpetually.

Some squashed under the pressure; Itachi was not one of those men. He had been in situations like this before; they were nothing new. Heavyweight conundrums that weren't easy to settle. He would have to manage, have to cope, or otherwise he would fail and that was not an acceptable conclusion. Failure was not an idea he could process. he had, eventually, been successful in everything he set out to achieve in his young life. At twenty-four, he was already a legend fabled and noted for eternity.

This was only the beginning.

Yuugao last night had been a surprisingly successful stress-relief, though he'd most probably have to switch her soon. The incident would hinder her work, and she needed to be processed back into circulation for a while. It wasn't healthy for any shinobi to be left off the battlefield for so long.

With this thought in mind, he wondered who would be a suitable replacement. That would probably be left to some of the underlings to decide. It wasn't an executive decision, not like the hazardous sight of Kirigakure.

They will push soon; I'm sure of it. And why not? This time was as good as any. Even so, it would perhaps be detrimental to Kirigakure's future if an attack were to be delayed…

Itachi's eyes pushed open. The throb in his head was still present, but he would be able to sort that once at the hospital. The Sun was behind him, the heat burning into his back. He turns, and the light stings his face.

Kirigakure. The island was a concrete grey, a wicked shadow looming over the water, with a thick mist emerging from its foundations like smoke from a dragon's jaws.

Itachi's eyes smoulder. He knows who and what lies there… and to tell the truth, he'd rather be burned alive fighting than submit to someone with too much power and too much vendetta.

I will always refuse to be a pawn.


"Commander Uchiha asked me to show you the damage sustained to the Hospital from a few nights ago- it's nothing too serious, but we are having difficulties repairing the sector internally," Satori indicates to a substantial section of the hospital that appears charred and burned by a powerful chakra; it scarred the walls like tar in cancerous lungs. It smelt rancid, too.

"They are working on recovering the rooms," Satori continued, arms folded. "But it seems no one has been able to make much of a difference,"

Sakura stepped toward one of the walls of the burnt wards, their lengths looked like stained caverns of soot and decay. She extended a hand to touch the damage.

"It was a powerful fire-based chakra," The wall still tingled. It was odd; the dirty blackness seemed unusual and pointedly ominous in contrast to the whiteness of the rest of the building.

"You'd know much more about that than me. As I've said before, I'm more the scientist… But even I can tell the damage is extraordinary,"

"Have you notified Konoha?"

"We might have done," Satori shrugs. "I don't know, really, that's not drawn on my line of responsibility,"

Sakura sighs. It was not a happy omen by any means.

"I'd ask the Commander if I were you," Satori continues. "That's part of his job,"

"Hmmm," Sakura frowned with worry. Tsunade must not be oblivious to this, yet she had told her nothing. Things were becoming worse, she knew that much, but if she dared to ask, how much would the enigmatic Uchiha divulge? How much would he reveal? Was she entitled to know? Perhaps this wall was scarred with much more than clues.

"In fact, you can ask him now," Satori says, nodding in the direction of the dark figure steadily making his way along the white corridor behind. His footsteps were so quiet, his chakra so subdued; Sakura hadn't the slightest idea he was there. She turned, hand still placed on the dark wall.

"Good Morning, Commander," Satori bowed.

As he neared, Itachi gave a small, regal nod in return. "How are you, Satori-San?"

"I'm well, thank you, would you be needing anything today?"

"My usual, please," He said, and lifted his head to Sakura when the doctor went to leave.

Satori craned his neck back and winked as he walked away. "See you later, Lady Consultant,"

Sakura waved humbly in return, feeling the idea of being head of her own hospital somewhat daunting. The thought hadn't resurfaced to trouble her since last night. She turned fully to Itachi, and let her hand slip from the wall.

Sakura observed as Itachi watched the movement, the glint in his gazing eyes seemed quizzical and appraising, though there wasn't much else to brighten their beautiful darkness. His eyes lingered on her hand moments before sliding up towards her face.

"I trust Yuugao showed you the apartment?" He asked, and his deep voice echoed off the cavernous walls.

"Yes," Sakura said. "She did, and thank you- it's really beautiful, better than my apartment back in Konoha,"

Itachi nods in agreement, though an invisible weight seemed bolted on his slim shoulders. "This is a place better than most,"

And in some ways worse than most? The words danced on her lips, but she felt no reason to voice them. They wouldn't do, not at this moment in time.

Awkwardly, Sakura averted her gaze and glanced over her shoulder back towards the blackened walls.

"Have you-" Sakura turns back, and Itachi is barely centimetres from touching her, his body almost flush with hers. His speed was so subtle, the kunoichi faltered.

Itachi continues to watch her, his head standing only a couple of inches higher than her own. She was all too aware of his heated body, the strength of his stance. She shudders from watching the subtle rise of his chest and softness of his breath upon her cheek. He smelt of outside; of nature, as if he'd been rolling in grass or dry autumn leaves.

"Hey-!" Sakura said, startled, the coldness of the wall against her back.

He looked down at her, his eyes as blank as a starless night sky.

With their proximity and aloneness, Sakura noticed something about the Uchiha, something that only the plain walls and encompassing silence of the long, empty rooms could have highlighted. Itachi was cold, his apathy and mystery quickly making her uncomfortable. His eyes may gleam, but the burning of their true emotion was seldom revealed to any. His eyes were pebbles; shiny but devoid of life or expression. He made her feel fragile, brittle, as if she were nothing more than a hollow statue carved in the clearest glass. It was as if nothing could faze him; nothing could destroy him.

He was surrounded in a mist of invincibility, an air invisible to him but blatant and gossamer to others. Itachi was much like his brother, distant, beautiful, and tinged with the arrogance of an esteemed bloodline. Itachi's character, however, was so much more pronounced, much more obvious. Sasuke was at least able to resemble the human species to a reasonable extent.

Recalling his eyes, Sakura thought it an understandable arrogance, at least.

"I was told you specialise in chakra," He stated, eyes averting to the dark wall. "Tell me… what do you see on those walls?"

"I…" Sakura began, and she turned back to the charred stone. "I see the effects of a high-level katon-jutsu, Commander,"

Itachi nodded, gaze still roaming the rooms. "In the physical sense you are correct…" He looks back to her. "But what else do you see?"

Redness floods to Sakura's face, and lump closes her throat. Why did he ask her these questions? It seemed so difficult to answer and she couldn't understand why. The moments passed, and she grew more confused by her hesitation.

"What does it really mean?"Itachi waited for her answer, his face calm and patient. "You see more than you let on; it's making you anxious."

How can he read people so well? It was like he could peer into a person's soul, could rip all their personal boundaries and leave them naked and vulnerable. How could someone so beautiful be so… frightening? His words were said with conviction, with an absolute assurance that could have been aggressive were it not for the smoothness of his voice. He was testing her, studying her.

"I see… I see…"

She turns back to the wall and touches the damage.

"… War,"


"I see…" She paused, and Itachi listened to how her voice changed with interest. "I see… War,"

He smirks darkly at the girl's words. She feels the storm brewing, the thunder clouds churning and soon to unleash itself. Her face was turned from him now, but he had already seen the fear and the shock drag her mood to the ground. He had seen the realisation as plainly as the Sun's glow through the clouds.

"Yes… You are wise to see that," He says, the resolution clear in his voice. It would be good to hope only the opposite, but he knew the bloody outcome was inevitable. In this respect, he saw it unnecessary to provide any happier prospects for the kunoichi. It was important she knew, after all. There would be no pretences here. "For the past year relations with Mist have soured. I doubt the Godaime informed you of much…"

"She told me things… but I had no idea of the situation here, no idea of this," Sakura replied, turning herself back towards him. Determination glittered in her bright eyes. "Thank you for telling me,"

"There is no need to thank me," Itachi chuckled darkly, "You needed to realise the severity of the situation. This hospital is very important; it's the Eastern Base's second HQ. It can also act as a fortress, and has been designed as such. All medical and food supplies are stored here. This building in many ways is more important than the main HQ,"

"Yes," Sakura nodded. "I understand,"

"In this building, you are second in command to me. You are a highly ranked officer within the premises of Eastern, hence why your quatres are amongst the official's," Itachi continued. "It is your responsibility,"

"Yes, Commander,"

Itachi nodded in response to her fiery eyes, and turned on his heels, the movement encouraging her to follow him. Together, they walked side-by-side towards the reception. Both walked in silence for a while, their feet making the only sounds as they steeped along the deep corridors. His head remained forward, and he did not look down despite her occasional, coy, curious glances.

"Have you eaten?" He asked, as they reached the quiet reception. Outside, more ninja mobilised in the courtyard, their voices clear beyond the glass.

"No…"

"There is a kitchen on the floor of your office," He said, and asked on an afterthought, "Has Satori shown you your quarters yet?"

Sakura shook her head. "He has shown me the main wards on this floor, and the damaged wards,"

Itachi mulled over this. He might as well show her the remainder of the hospital, seeing as it would be a while until the morning mission reports would emerge. He had not eaten either, and would need to do so before taking the medicine.

"I will take you instead, then,"

Itachi took her about the other three floors, all the while watching as she took in the information with quiet resoluteness. She asked questions only when needed, and was perfectly mannered, perfectly poised despite a slight nervousness he felt surrounding her. He observed Sakura with enthusiasm, and admired the girl's apparent love of learning. Her bedside manner with the patients they encountered was perfect, her mastery over the sick and wounded flawless.

He decided she was well suited to her position, and was confident in her abilities. She seemed too pleasant to be anything but a doctor, yet Sasuke's letters often described her in the opposite light. There was always a reserved respect when he wrote about her, a careful respect; the shock he and his other teammates felt when Sakura had pummelled a small fissure into the ground the first time Team Seven reunited; the time when she had punched a man with a chakra-laden fist, his skull caved in and turned to mush as he smashed to the floor. According to his younger brother, Sakura had spliced shinobi to pieces internally in a matter of short, fleeting seconds.

Examining her behaviour now, Itachi was quite unable to envision these acts of power and violence from the medic-nin. With that said, there were still many deceptions, many surprises and odd occurrences within the shinobi world. Everyone was a walking, breathing paradox. Each person within the profession was propelled into a world of endless violence, a world of endless survival balanced on a precarious knife-edge. In the heat of battle, people changed. That was nature; that was instinct.

The pair moved on, as Itachi wanted Sakura to be settled in before the rush of outpatients and staff converged on the hospital. They had met a few other employed here, and Itachi was pleased by how accommodating his medics were to the new Consultant. As usual, all treated him with the utmost respect.

"Good morning, Commander," They would say robotically, and he would nod back in return, all in the same fashion. The repetition was almost too moronic for even his patience, but Itachi remained as professional as always. They were only doing what was expected of them.

All the same, it made him so drained. He'd much rather be alone.

"This way, Sakura-San," He said, and motioned for Sakura to follow him up another flight of stairs. She followed, face rather elated from all the new faces she'd met. Her expression was charming, and her walk confident. It made her more exciting to look at, and Itachi allowed his eyes to wander over parts of her body he'd previously ignored.

Sakura didn't notice, though a sly part of him wanted to see what she'd do if she did.

They emerged onto the fourth floor, her floor, in many respects. Itachi indicated her office, and the offices of the other senior medics she'd be working with. There was another couple wards on the other side, but both were really too peckish to be bothered with them. Sakura could wander over there later.

They stepped into the kitchen, and Itachi noted Sakura's appraisal of the room. It was large, spacious, and held numerous soft chairs and a couple of dining tables. The wide windows revealed the ocean in all its glory and splendour, much like the window to her bedroom.

"Uchiha-Sama, this place is remarkable," Sakura gleamed, battling through the caution she felt towards him with her renewed excitement. "It's so beautiful,"

Itachi too admired the view from the window. The scene truly was remarkable, the colours transcendent with the dazzling light harpooning through the pale clouds like fiery arrows burning upon the water's silken surface. It was nothing less than serene, bewitching, and he watched how her expression softened, how her appreciation for the morning light held no pretence. Here, in this light, she was nothing but a pleasure to look at.

"Would you like some coffee?" He offered, walking towards the kitchen part of the room.

It took a moment for Sakura to realise he was speaking to her. "Oh- um, yes please,"

"Milk?"

"Only a little, thank you,"

Itachi took the kettle and filled it with water from the sink, all the while keeping his calm watch on the bemusing kunoichi. She really was quite extraordinary to look at, with the glistening hair than begged to be smoothed and caressed, the pink an enticing contrast to the blackness of her jounin shirt, and her delicate pallor. Her body was attractive, lithe and strong, yet supple and most probably yielding beneath stroking fingers. He wondered why Sasuke hadn't made a move on her already, or perhaps he had? Who knew? If anything had happened, it was certainly not included in those letters. He kept prying and wondering, his temptation to ask her so amusing.

"What is it like here in the winter?" Sakura asks, and the kettle boils.

"Pleasant," Itachi replies tonelessly. "The temperature is comfortable, but sometimes the wind off the sea can be irritating,"

"Can it be strong?"

"Yes, though it's only a nuisance in the first couple of weeks in November," Itachi pours one teaspoon full of instant coffee into each mug. "At that time, the coast is plagued with shipwrecks, and the problem with Wreckers becomes worse,"

"What do you mean by "Wreckers"?" Sakura asks, head still facing the ocean.

"They are groups of people who destroy the beacons that indicate the location of the rocks to ships at night," He's uses the spoon to dissolve the coffee. "The ships crash into the cliffs, the Crewes murdered, and the valuables looted. They're usually commoners, though some rogue shinobi can be mixed into the proceedings,"

Sakura glances back slightly perplexed. "Surely you don't get many?"

"You'd be surprised. Many seem to think it worth the risk. That said, this is a very large area to patrol," Itachi moves round to where Sakura stands and hands her the coffee.

"Thank you. Don't you have outlets along the coast?"

"Yes, but they are few in number," He replies. "And the main bulk of our forces are situated here, where we can see them,"

Sakura follows his insinuation to the island across the sea. She seems to mull this over, though her suspicions aren't suppressed. Steaming vapour from the coffee fills the space between the two, and Itachi watches her from above the rim of his mug.

"You are annoyed," He stated. "Does it anger you that much?"

"I was thinking it's a shame that this place will not be as calm as it is now..." Sakura sighs. "I think you are correct, this situation can only get worse,"

Itachi smiles, solemnly, and for some reason he doesn't mind her seeing him like this. She was so confident, he could not intimidate her like he did others. She was too used to Sasuke.

"Are you pessimistic only because I am?" He questioned, watching her, his eyes tracing every

He observed her face, the thought crossing her brow. "No... Not really,"

Her voice went dead, and her head hang in consideration. Sakura seemed to be focused on something, like an imaginary spot between her feet.

"I think..." She began, "My Shishou, Lady Hokage, had already mentioned our predicament. And, as you already know all there is to know sir, you cannot be aware of the rumours circling around your own courtyard. You do not know the stories told in the centre of Konoha,"

Itachi considered her. She implied he was out of touch with his soldiers, although she may have had a point.

"Sakura-San, you have not been here an entire day and yet you already imply you know what my soldiers discuss- but what you claim would make sense. They have indeed seen the fringes of war," He stated, and drew closer to his new interest, this girl who spoke to him as confidently as any other female family member would.

"Why don't you stress the situation to Tsunade-Sama?" The girl, barely a woman, suggested.

His eyes shot to hers. "The current situation hardly merits such an action,"

Sakura appeared put off by his dismissive words, and she opened her mouth to rebuke him.

"Sakura-San," He said, adding a warning to his smooth, constructed voice. "It is not your decision."

"I know that..." She said, suddenly realising that she had indeed forgotten herself. She turned her gaze away, biting her tongue to admonish herself. This reaction was only clear to Itachi as he watched her jaw clench and her eyes wince from the sting.

"There is little anyone can do..." Itachi stated. "Send ambassadors? Perhaps that would be a viable option, but it would more likely end with their heads on the end of stakes,"

Sakura swivelled back round, her eyes alight. Itachi now lent against the kitchen counter top, his tired gaze hopping back and forth from Sakura to the sea view.

"What makes you think they are so savage?"

"Think?" Itachi scoffed. "I do not think it would happen, I know it would happen. I have seen the decapitated heads watching open-eyed and gormless from their spikes. I have seen the Mist shinobi spit and jest as they swan past the heads of the deceased,"

Even for a kunoichi, a woman of whom is raised in the midst of violence, this was not a pleasant thought. Even as a medic-nin, this tale would have curdled breakfast lining her stomach. Just imagining the stench was unbearable.

"And," Itachi continued, " I know it would happen because Mist want a war. They are the antagonizers, they want blood and destruction,"

Sakura stood speechless. She clearly knew not what to say. There was very little anyone could say in response to that. In the moments of silence, Itachi finished his coffee, regarding her the entire time, awaiting an answer the entire time. He was surprised to find Sakura's face could become as stoic as his own, that she could form a visage of stone. Itachi then realised this was most probably due to the fact she was attempting to draw a conclusion from everything he told her.

Then, angrily, Sakura's face scrunched into an angry glare. "But why?"

Her question sounded too much like a demand. The Uchiha Commander narrowed his eyes in consideration, noting how fun her feisty, questioning personality could also become a sort of hindrance in the future.

When Itachi did not answer her straight away, this made Sakura's brow furrow even deeper, and her expression more aggravated.

"I don't understand," She huffed.

"Sakura-San..." Itachi said quietly, as if he were musing to himself. "I'm sure if anyone could understand then we would not be in this predicament,"

The kunoichi surveyed him from under her dark eyelashes, calming herself down as she realised that there truly was nothing to be done. War seemed inevitable.

"Anyway," Itachi hastily changed the subject, "I wanted to ask you about my brother,"

"Sasuke-Kun?"

Itachi nodded. He scrutinised her face with the utmost intensity as she scanned his own, searching for his meaning. To Itachi, she seemed naturally suspicious.

"What about him?"

"... How is he?"

Sakura licked her lips awkwardly. Her eyes darted around the room, as if she were seeking an escape route, but then resolutely shrugged her shoulders and laughed softly.

"Probably hungover," She chuckled. "Like most mornings,"

Hungover? Itachi laughed inwardly at the idea. He had seen Sasuke once, at a festival, over five years ago when his younger brother was at the height of adolescence. It was the night of Tsunade's inauguration. As she was sworn into the position of Godaime in front of anyone who mattered, the rest of the village got absolutely plastered. He himself was off his face, aged nineteen and steadily moving up the ranks of Eastern. It was the last time he had properly visited his family.

Sasuke and Naruto (of whom his parents- much more Fugaku than his mother) did not particularly approve of because of the Uchiha-Kyuubi affiliation, had nabbed whatever booze they could acquire and hid from view until they were both too drunk to care about breaking the law. Never had Itachi and Sasuke stood and laughed so much as when they ran into each other. The elder had poked the younger in the forehead, watching him wobble uncontrollably, and thus ensuring a brief, brotherly scuffle in the crowded Konoha streets.

It was one of Itachi's fonder memories of his home town.


Sakura watches him ponder, and how his eyes glaze over as he entered a reverie. His mouth twitches into a small smile and she wonders what he was thinking.

He's probably thinking of a drunken Sasuke... And Sakura had to admit, the image was amusing, for a drunken Sasuke means a funny Sasuke.

"He goes out quite a lot now," She continued. "He always tries to out-drink Naruto, but that's just not possible... he never gives up,"

"Can you out-drink them?" Itachi asked, knowing too well what she could do to hinder the effects of alcohol.

Sakura grinned slyly. "Yeah... I've don't that but Naruto sobers up quickly anyway, whilst Sasuke usually just falls flat on his face,"

Itachi shook his head, feigning disgust, but secretly wondered whether he could drink his little brother under the table too. It certainly didn't seem difficult.


"Sakura-San," Itachi said, after another mug of coffee, "It is time for me to leave, and you to learn about your hospital,"

I have underestimated her. Itachi smirked as he descended the stairways. She has more spirit than I thought. She is more interesting than Sasuke had described.

He had asked her about further incidents where Sasuke had failed to out-drink Naruto, amused and pleasantly surprised to hear the sorts of endeavours his brother should have been divulging in his letters.

"He's stayed round our places so many times so he's not caught too drunk," Sakura described how she had woken up next to Itachi's younger brother, huddled close and hungover. "He did that especially when he was younger,"

It was here Itachi realised they were closer than he had originally assumed. Still, they seemed more like brother and sister than drunken lovers.

It would somewhat be natural and expected though, for they had basically grown up together, as a team forced to watch out for one another, and for what was once solely for the battlefield had now extended to the pub.

Itachi smiled wistfully once he was alone. Perhaps he should invite his younger brother to Eastern despite the coming challenges? If it did come to war, Itachi was sure Sasuke would be one of the first to assist anyway. It would be something he could meditate on later.

For the moment, those thoughts were tossed aside, seeing as there were more urgent matters to attend to. Itachi slipped outside into the courtyard, the hustle and bustle had begun. Ninja stood awaiting approval to depart on their rounds, whilst others returned from their nightly duties and made their way towards the dining hall. All saluted as he passed.

He stepped towards the HQ, but one of the message interpreters found him on the way.

"Sir," He bowed, holding a folded note, then rose. "Urgent report from Konohagakure,"

Itachi nodded, taking the note. He flipped it open.

It was a message, reading to him specifically, an S-Rank mission of which he was obliged to take that very day.


The day was long, but Sakura was in her element. The patients were few, but those who lay stricken in their beds were many.

Injuries inflicted from the attack a few nights ago, as it seemed, were in abundance.

She grew acquainted with the other members of staff, and was impressed with their efficiency.

All through her shift Sakura recalled her conversation with Itachi. She had not been entirely truthful, for although she had stressed her and Sasuke's relationship to be purely platonic, that wasn't always the case. At sixteen, Sasuke began watching her differently. The glint in his dark eyes followed her, their glare intense and heavily predatory. This had excited her to say the least, despite the fact that Sakura had no idea how to act upon such attentions. He seemed unsure of what to do as well, and there had been a time when the atmosphere was so thick one could have sliced it clean with a knife. However, he had obviously become tired of his inhibitions,and called round her house one day completely out of the blue. This spontaneity was highly unusual, as Sasuke vastly preferred organisation.

He had watched her that day like he wanted to eat her, and Sakura had been so confused she was left open for the kill.

"Hi," He had said at the door, never letting his eyes leave her own. Sakura understood how her actions had been awkward, and her nervousness failed to lessen under such uncompromising ferocity. His eyes had wandered around the doorway, expectant and surprisingly calm for the given situation.

It had been a fuss about nothing, in truth. Never in her life life had Sakura seen Uchiha Sasuke so wound-up. Her parents weren't home, and she was quite sure he was hoping for this.

"Hey... coming in?" That had been a terribly ironic phrase to say with hindsight, and Sakura always found it funny in the years that followed.

He wasted no time. The minute the door was closed and her back was turned as she lead him to the kitchen, Sasuke nabbed her attention. For two so young and inexperienced at the time, it was a wonder they had even made it to her bedroom without nerves breaking either of them. Although Sasuke had shown no outward signs of anxiety, Sakura couldn't miss his heavy panting, nor the thundering heart against his ribcage that revealed so much.

The memories were dulled by the passing of time, but Sakura could still remember much of her small tryst with Sasuke all those years ago. It was certainly his first time as well as hers, with his kisses either awkward or bruising, and his obvious lack of stamina due to the shock of such a different sensation. She had enjoyed his skin against hers, soft yet as solid as stone. He had kissed and touched her in ways that made her whimper and moan, despite being sloppy and somewhat confused at what-was-what. When he slipped inside her, he had shuddered with pleasure, just as she had shuddered with pain, clinging to him, the clarity of her voice lessening as he thrust, and thrust, and thrust, panting as his open lips ghosted against her throat and his sweat had mingled with her own.

He had been a little apologetic afterwards, as tenderness was something Sasuke had struggled with. He saw her a couple of times after that, but both decided it could not continue. They drew this conclusion for many reasons, but the main, as Sakura would understand later, was their lack of emotional maturity.

There had been another occasion, not all that long ago, when he had spent a legless night at her flat. Both were drunk and decidedly wanton for another's body. They had matured significantly, emotionally and physically. Instead of shuddering with pain, Sakura shuddered in pleasure alongside her childhood friend, and both were bolder in their and better versed actions, even though they were drunk beyond belief. When they awoke, neither complained or found the situation particularly uncomfortable. Sasuke had quietly sipped his coffee and rubbed his forehead as he scanned the morning paper, just as he did most days when he was hungover. When Sakura had left the room to take a shower, he had followed after a couple of minutes of deliberation.

That had been the last time she and Sasuke had had sex. And it was strange, for within the days and the months and the year that followed, both seemed to walk together with a natural stride, both accepting that what happened had happened. No awkwardness shrouded their team, they were both careful not to reveal anything. As far as they were concerned, nobody else knew about the affair, and not even Naruto nor Kakashi could have detected anything.

She had wondered about whether they would be good together, but Sakura knew that such a drastic change could have swung either way. It may have ended well, or it could have ended in discord. Secretly, she was curious as to whether Sasuke had any such thoughts that paralleled her own.

After all, She mused, he had always been the instigator.

Sakura bit into her apple, wincing slightly at its sharpness.

We did well to hide that scent... She let her mind wander, her thoughts still dwelling in the past even at lunchtime.

It was here she bumped into Shizuka, fresh from a patrolling mission. Sakura wrenched herself from thinking about how the other woman's young cousin had matured well in the bedroom, and learnt from the female Uchiha that Itachi had made her Head Field-Medic, which was a plus on Sakura's side of paperwork and organisation.

"He knows me well enough to know I can't handle being locked up," She'd said, with a smile on her perfectly formed face. "You have a patience I envy,"

"Not without coffee, I don't," Sakura grinned back, and thought the observation ironic, remembering the many times her patience (even coffee-ladened patience) had swayed in the presence of Uzumaki Naruto.

The afternoon was pleasant, and she saw mainly outpatients. Many of the male shinobi commented on how much of an improvement she was on the previous consultant.

"Nah, he can't beat your bedside manner, Dr. Haruno," Sakura took these remarks with a pinch of salt, but they added to her enjoyment of the day.

Later in the evening, it was to her surprise that Satori came knocking, asking a favour.

"Dr. Haruno?" He called, with a knock.

"Yes, Dr. Hirose?"

He stepped through the door, a bottle of tablets in hand.

He bowed, and then began. " The Commander asked me to make this prescription, I was wondering if you'd be able to pass them on?"

"Shouldn't he be in the office at the HQ?" Sakura asked, filing through the heaps of paperwork.

"I've enquired, and found he's on a mission, though should be back in few hours. Your quarters, I understand, are only a few doors down from his,"

"Oh, I see… then yes, I can take them to him, thank you,"

Satori set the bottle on the desk, bowed, and bid her goodnight.

Now alone, and beginning to tire, Sakura figured she would call it a night in an hour or so. She would not need to wake so early the next day, but was still exhausted from the late night before. Hopefully her belongings would have arrived, they were later than Yuugao had lead her to believe, but ah well; at least she had a lovely soft bed.

Sakura then realised that Itachi had not mentioned he was only along the corridor, and was quite at a loss to whether she found that comforting or rather disconcerting.


It would have been more logical to take a full troop; there were plenty of perfectly able shinobi to accompany him. However, Itachi always preferred to go on these missions alone.

Now clad in ANBU uniform, Itachi looked far more imposing. A sleek soldier encased in armor and armed to the teeth.

The sky had darkened entirely, and the mission had been successful. He had carried out many assassinations over the years, and this had been one of the smoothest yet. The hit was against a tyrannical merchant, wanting to be eradicated by another tyrannical merchant with more money than sense, or so that is how Itachi perceived it. There had been very little to confront him on the way, and now the merchant's head swung in a thick canvas bag carried in Itachi's left hand. Blood stained the bottom and droplets dripped to the forest floor as he sped through the trees.

He quickly entered into the courtyard, and deposited the head in the morgue underneath the HQ. The head would be washed and frozen, ready to be used as evidence to the contractor. It was indeed a seedy business, and although he'd become quite accustomed to it, Itachi never felt entirely comfortable.

A throb began in his crown, though it never showed on his face. He hoped his medicine was ready, needing it now more than this morning. The pain attacks had become worse over the past couple of months, probably incited by the growing tensions between Kirigakure and his home.

A war- a true War- would not do, and Itachi dreaded the day it would reveal its ugly head.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Itachi then proceeded up towards his quarters, wanton for sleep. It seemed a struggle up the stairs, but his body was resilient, composed and disciplined.

Coming upon the corridor, he traipsed to his room, and began unlocking the door before noticing a familiar-looking bottle outside the door. A note was attached to the neck. He bent to pick it up, and took the note.

"See me tomorrow," It said. "Haruno Sakura"

Itachi's eyebrows lifted, and a smirk spread across his fine, tired face. Having put it like that how could he possibly refuse?


Thanks for readings, thanks for reviewing.

Oh and yeah, Yuugao makes her first appearance in chapter 137 :)