Revised: 10/02/09

Mistakes should have been altered.

"If every everyone were clothed with integrity, if every heart were just, frank, kindly the other virtues would be well-night useless, since their chief purpose is to make us bare with the patience of injustice of our fellows. "-

Moliere.

"Patience is the companion of wisdom."-

Saint Augustine.


Chasing the Moon

Chapter Four- Better than Medicine


At twenty-four, Uchiha Itachi could not remember a time when he had slept soundly through a long, banal night. Though his eyes are closed, he is far from sleep's sweet clutches. He was unable to shake off the thoughts of the day, all the problems only he could solve. Exhaustion plagued him, followed him about like a persistent little dog snapping at his ankles.

The beast never relented.

Years of training had brought this. When he was young, war still raged through the Five Countries. Times were both harsher and crueler than he could ever recall. Children ceased being children, and at the tender age of four Itachi was conditioned to never crave sleep, to always turn a blind eye to the pains and agonies this deprivation caused.

In this way, he could never become peaceful, could never let the night encompass him like a rolling, midnight wave of the nearby sea. He doubted he would ever have the mercy of slipping into a peaceful sleep. Even if drowning, his body would not let him wash away; he would be acutely aware to the last dying brain cell, and feel his demise consume and crush him.

At times like this, Itachi was tempted to leave his room and make his way to the canteen that turned into a bar in these unearthly hours. But his personality failed him, caged him, for Itachi was the type of person much lonelier in a crowd than on his own.


Sakura sat on her long white sofa, thoughts ablaze, the inner-cogs of her mind turning and grinding as the moon waltzed through the jewel studded sky.

No wonder he always looks so tired, She thinks, as she skims through the ingredients she had copied from the bottle of Itachi's medication. It was rude, and quite a nosy thing to do, but she was already well aware of that, and, to be frank, didn't really care. How long has he been taking these things?

To a no-nonsense medic like Sakura, directly healing a problem-area was the preferred option to any long, drawn-out prescriptions. They were addictive, basically ineffective after prolonged used, and ultimately damaging if used excessively. She hoped that Itachi would come to see her, for Sakura was not the type of person who could take a blind eye to something so harmful in the long run.

These drugs could always be replaced by a better alternative, and that was partly her reason of being; as a medic, she was naturally more caring than most. Although there were obvious exceptions to this rule, this was something definitely shared by most in her profession.

She was tired, but not in a way that needed the rejuvenation of sleep. She knew that placing her head on those fluffy white pillows and hoping for sleep to come would be futile. It was a type of insomnia she could do without for the moment, but at least it would allow her the time to start something new.

Taking a pen and paper, she began to write voraciously. The letters she intended to write were many, and the first completed was for her parents. The second was to her second mother and mentor, Tsunade, and the third to Kakashi. The fourth and final letter was addressed to both Naruto and Sasuke. To each her tone was different, and some specific details were omitted in certain people's letters, but they each contained similar material.

She told them of her room, her promotion, the people, the beauty of the Campus and how its concrete bulk was so well hidden in the tall meridian canopies. She told them of how the birds sang, and of the mesmerising smell of a freshly cooked breakfast wafting through the dewy morning courtyard.

Sakura had hardly noticed the lonely hours tick by, and was thankful. It was early morning when she had finally finished every letter, and the darkness of the surrounding night was at its pinnacle, its deepest yet. Through the window she could see the moon had traversed the obsidian sky; its silvery reflection was no longer tattooed atop the sea's silken surface, and now only the brilliant stars danced above its vastness.

Writing those letters settled her, and she felt quietly peaceful; not a sound reached her ears, not even the ticking clock. She was grateful for this small inobservance.

Although, that said, Sakura had seldom felt so bitterly lonely. She had only begun to feel the first signs of homesickness. The letters had helped, but had not quite eradicated her anxiety.

She did not focus on these thoughts for long; she was much better at controlling her emotions now than at twelve, sixteen, or even eighteen. It was not helpful for anyone if she were to become consumed by that sort of pain.

Batting those dreadful thoughts away, Sakura decided she would focus on the positive. Closing her eyes, she lay in a state of blissful meditation, her thoughts ebbing away until all that entered her mind was the melodic roll of the calm, soothing ocean. She imagined the waves encircling her, tossing her to and fro as they waged their lunar cycle. Sakura imagined she could breathe like a fish, and was impervious to the icy water like a blubbery seal.

It was like a protective cloak, shielding her from the storms of the skies above and the wars of the land. She thought that being carried by those gentle waves must be the best feeling in the entire world.


Itachi glances somewhat disapprovingly at the smouldering morning sky; pewter clouds from the South threatened rain, though he was not entirely sure whether his prediction would be correct. That said, he recalled that it was not uncommon to have the odd shower in these summer months… At least it would keep the grass long and luscious for the weeks to come.

Itachi was not a fan of the rain; he disliked how it persisted in making everything it dampened icy cold, how it made his clothes heavy and cling to his body like a second skin. It was a hindrance, and simply quite off-putting, casing his loose hair to stick to his face. Nevertheless, it would not defeat him; he would endure it, like every other challenge thrown at his feet.

But he could not deny that the thought depressed him, and set him in a generally bad mood. Deciding he had spent long enough brooding on the coastal edge, Itachi moved to leave. The sunrays crept along his back like enticing, teasing fingers, wanton for him to stay. Itachi would be lying to say the thought had not crossed his mind, just as it did every morning.

The heat waves were severed when he entered the foliage, and the cracking of twigs beneath his feet betrayed his location and their pathway.

It was here, in this quiet, dense forest, that something sparked within Itachi's heightened intuition.

He realised he was not alone.

Itachi bristled like a cat ready to pounce; his hands were high and prepared like unsheathed claws. He had always felt there was something powerfully animalistic in the way shinobi fought; their movements were lucid like a feline's, and their bite as crushing as a wolf's mighty jaws.

A twinge of chakra enforced his suspicions.

Itachi's eyes stayed put, and he did not unveil his sharingan. Instead, he let his chakra leak, an unfriendly warning to whoever dared survey him without his knowledge.

It was a beckoning, but the intruder did not stir. They did not even raise their own chakra in response. It was an odd, impassive gesture, and Itachi did not like it one single bit.

Moments passed, and birds began to shriek up high above the shadowy canopies. Itachi still did not move. Instead, he listened and waited, calculating the best options available.

But then, as swiftly as he'd come, the intruder was moving away. Whoever it was slunk back into the undergrowth and their chakra whittled down to nothing, until all Itachi could sense was his own swollen life force, angry and sinister.

I should follow them, He decided, yet he did not. He was unable to answer why. He could not justify himself, except that he had a sneaking suspicion that something new and dangerous was dawning. It would be something unavoidable.


Sakura smothered her charred toast with an appalling amount of strawberry jam, and took an unsightly bite. It was like sweetened ash. Cooking, even simple toast was not Sakura's strong point.

Ah well, at least the coffee's good. At the moment, that was all that seemed to matter to Sakura. She had not slept a wink, yet was surprisingly chipper and alert. She would have to be careful not to drink too much coffee, as nothing seemed more unprofessional than trembling from a caffeine overdose. She had sent her letters to be posted as soon as she left the flat, and was already feeling anxious to hear from everyone.

As she poured another steamy, aromatic cup, a knock rapped on her door.

"Who is it?" She calls, voice still a little groggy.

"Uchiha Itachi,"

Sakura blinks slightly dumbfounded before verbally allowing her commander entrance.

Itachi steps through the threshold, and Sakura notices that he is paler than usual. He seems tired and heavy-stepped. He was still incredibly gorgeous, but that was beside the point. With all her thoughts of Sasuke, panting, sweating and naked, on top and below her, Sakura had to shake her head as her senior officer swept into the room.

Instead, Sakura inwardly noted his behaviour and attached all his symptoms to his evident prescription-dependence.

"Good morning," He says, tonelessly and fixes her with a particularly sharpened gaze with contrastingly inanimate eyes.

"Good morning, sir," She replies and grasps another coffee mug from behind her. She turns back and Itachi gives her a simple nod as he seats himself opposite her in the comfy leather chair.

Sakura pours him a cup, and all the while she feels his stare spear through her and dismantle her safeguards. He didn't appear to be in a very good mood. His power seems to clog the room, suffocating her. Despite his evident fatigue, Sakura marvels at how his whole demeanour seemed so regal, and yet so natural. This power intimidated Sakura. His devilish good looks did nothing to help Sakura's inner struggle.

He was simply amazing to look at, and so difficult to impress. It made her feel tense, defensive.

"How was the night report?" He asks, casually taking the cup of coffee from the desk and remains standing.

"Not that eventful," Sakura says, unfurling some notes. "Though, there was one disturbance; a cardiac arrest at 02:35. The problem was resolved. The particulars are here," Sakura handed Itachi the notes, and he skimmed over them with mild interest.

"Good," He announced after a few minutes of reading. "No deaths is a vast improvement,"

"The medical staff at present very impressive, nice people as well,"

"Yes," Itachi glances at her approvingly. "They are,"

Itachi flicks through the broader sheets, eyes scanning the lists of words and symbols and numbers. He took the information in, word from word, instantly, like a machine.

"It may turn noisier later this afternoon- more reparations need to be made to the damaged Wing," He announced.

Sakura's gaze fixed on his form looming above her. The morning sunlight from the window behind her paled his complexion, causing his face to emit a gorgeously porcelain glow that seemed far too ethereal to be of this crude, mortal world.

"That's fine. I'll send out a bulletin now,"

Itachi nods, though his eyes appear distracted.

Sakura watched him curiously. "Is there anything else you wished to discuss, sir?"

"Yes," He says and rolls his gaze to hers. " There are a couple of matters… But at the moment I'm more interested in what the message last night refers to,"

His brashness startles Sakura. He notices her reaction, and something slightly more vibrant lights his plainly impassive eyes. The sight stops Sakura like a hard bite at the throat.

"Yes," She smiles, though her voice remains serious. " I want to talk to you about your pills,"

"What about them?" He seems slightly amused.

Sakura leans forward slightly, her hands clasping together as she forms her argument.

"Please, sir... Don't think I'm intruding on your personal business, but I know of better ways to deal with these matters than the pills you take. They are not the best way to cope with exhaustion, sir. Those tablets are created from the basest forms of the majority of hard amphetamines. They're worse than soldier pills. The toll they take on your body could be highly detrimental to your over-all well-being," She sips her coffee, trying to strike a balance between casual and formal address. "They're essentially like taking Speed, see, or taking vast amounts of caffeine. If you want something that enhances focus then take Ritalin. As you're most probably aware, they take your body, from the lows of exhaustion to the heights of awareness. They don't allow your body to recover, or to keep a consistent energy level," She said, leaning back in her chair and clasping her hands together just under her breasts in a doctoral-fashion. "Your body clock must be shattered- I don't understand how you can even function…"

"I function because it's my duty to function," Itachi interrupts matter-of-factly. Sakura found so little in his face as she laid her analysis bare. "This job is tiresome, I will admit that, but this place is my responsibility, and yes, you did intrude on my personal business,"

"Yeah, sorry about that, but-"

"You know better?" Itachi's eyes narrowed, and Sakura knew this well enough to allude to his bad mood.

Sakura gulped, and reddened slightly, but still carried on.

"Sir... What I mean is, why not split some of that responsibility? It's clear that the work load is ridiculous. It's like you've become a second Hokage- and in all fairness, I think you worked longer hours than the Hokage… or anyone else in Konoha, for that matter,"

"I cannot split the responsibility because monitoring hordes of other people would only serve to generate more work. If I do it myself, then there is only one person accountable if something were to go wrong. If there was more than one, then that could lead the way for a massively damaging blame-culture," He said severely. "I should rather not be a part of that,"

"But Uchiha-Taichou, please understand… this amount of pressure will kill you, or force you into early retirement!" Sakura couldn't help but become a little frustrated. Even if he was amazing and all, surely he didn't know more about these matters than her? "You need to seek other methods, sir,"

"What I need to do is my duty. This method allows me to do just that, and more," Itachi's arms crossed resolutely. "I trust Dr. Hirose's professional opinion,"

"Well, perhaps you should trust my professional opinion as well," She answered finally, in a tone that quite obviously amused her superior. "The way you're treating yourself is borderline-masochistic,"

"Haruno-San," Itachi said, strangely amused. "To speak to me like this… You haven't even known me week,"

"It's my duty to inform you, sir,"

A cold silence fell flat in the space between them like a wall of ice. Itachi's eyes narrowed like a cat's and watched the young kunoichi with a sharply inexorable glare, as if challenging her to a staring competition.

Sakura felt a slither of intimidation slide up her spine, but chose to stand her ground.

This reaction only served to make Itachi's eyes narrow further.

Oh. Oh God… Were Sakura's thoughts. Perhaps she had over-stepped a boundary. He was watching her with fire in his bottomless eyes. Oh… fuck…shit… That said, she couldn't help be fascinated; this was the most amount of expression she'd ever seen in the captain. The anger (or perhaps, Sakura would later note, this surprise) caused by her audacity was startling. But what was more startling at that moment for the young woman, was how much more he resembled his brother. That tiny twinge of annoyance and the cat-like slits of narrowed eyes were identical to Sasuke's own little habits, and this endeared Sakura to her superior more than ever.

Having humanised the striking man, Sakura found him easier to approach; she began imagine she talking to Sasuke. She began to see the familiarities opposed to the differences. It was surprising how much that thought soothed her disposition.

Sakura relaxed in her chair, all the tension melting away. Slyly, she smirked.

"I can prescribe something better than medicine, sir," She stated, and was pleased by her unwavering confidence.

Only the slightest movement unhinged Itachi's face from its narrow glare. His eyebrows rose somewhat sceptically and a small frown appeared.

"Okay…" Sakura began, finding momentum. "A trial-run, then? If you stay away from those tablets for… two weeks, and I replace them with my own treatment, you can decide for yourself,"

Itachi's face didn't move; it was as if he were carved from stone.

"You can decide which method you prefer, sir,"

Then some curiosity graced his features, some meagre interest in her proposal, apparently.

"Well," Itachi cut through the silence, and seated himself on the opposite side of Sakura's desk. The chair legs screeched upon the hard floor. "That seems a reasonable proposal. What is your suggestion?"

"I suggest Reiki, sir," She said, sipping her freshly brewed coffee. "As a therapy. It will relax you, and my chakra would help replenish your own,"

"My chakra doesn't need replenishing,"

"Those pills, sir, have effected you in every way. Your chakra levels suffer because both your spiritual and physical energies have been… corrupted,"

Itachi considered her, and paused for a moment. "You truly believe this will help me?"

"I am confident that it will,"

"Then we shall see," He stated, still obviously sceptical of Sakura's abilities.

"I can assure you that I won't disappoint, sir,"

Itachi smiled to himself, and took a long silent gulp of coffee, and left it half-finished on the table.

"When will treatment start?"

"Tonight?"

"I will look into my schedule," Itachi replies, standing up. "I will inform you later,"

"Okay," Sakura says, a little muted, and bows her head as he reciprocates the gesture. "Good day, Uchiha-Taichou,"

"Good-bye," Itachi turns and leaves.

As the door clicks shut, Sakura breathes out a sigh of relief. Tension floats from the room like wafts of smoke escaping through a newly opened window, purifying the air. She reflects on her decision, and knows all too-well that becoming involved with such a man as Uchiha Itachi was a risky decision. But nothing can stop this now.

Inside, her wish to become closer to a man of whom resembled her dear Sasuke seemed but natural. He was the only source of familiarity she could cling onto. Slowly, loneliness had begun to creep over her like a deathly shadow, like the night clouds that obscured half a full moon. She missed her friends, her family.

She had met so many, but still felt she knew none.

Itachi was someone she could relate to in both the strangest and most logical ways. Sasuke was their common interest, and there were none too many who could claim such a connection. She could not help but dwell on these feelings, and allow them to influence her. For the moment, growing closer to Itachi appeared a logical step.


Uchiha Shizuka strode through the HQ, head held high like a Goddess. She smiled with those perfect lips at the cheeky glances thrown from every direction, and glided with the grace of a swan. Her beauty constituted her authority just as much as her lineage. Just as her skill and power was able to solidify her status. It was true that Shizuka had many great weapons hidden up her sleeve. If she had had more time to waste, she would have spent a couple of minutes broadening her already panoramic male horizons.

There were much more pressing matters to attend at present, and mores the pity.

Her steps brought her finally to the Commander's private office. Knocking at the door, she heard a muffled greeting. She wandered in, and tilted her head in confusion at the sight before her.

Yuugao, that young, pretty thing working as Itachi's secretary seemed to be down in the dumps, all blurry-eyed and miserable. Shizuka's face dropped. She was no fool, she guessed what had occurred.

"Afternoon, Uchiha-San," Yuugao smiled a pathetic little smile. She appeared to be packing a large black shoulder bag with a couple of personal items dotted around the room.

"Yuugao-San, what's wrong?" Shizuka said, in her best "worried" voice. She wandered towards the poor creature and gently clasped Yuugao's shoulders. She didn't care for her fellow kunoichi- not one bit, really- but she was never adverse to a bit of juicy gossip, even if it meant deviating from her natural persona more than usual. "Here- shall I brew some tea?"

Yuugao sniffed, and fought back her salty tears. She wavered her hand in a sorry way. "I'm fine, thank you,"

Shizuka continued with her worried countenance, "Are you sure? You don't seem fine to me, hun, what's the matter?"

Yuugao sniffed, and her eyes swivelled to Itachi's door. "He's dismissed me," She said in a hushed voice, though Shizuka highly doubted that would do any good. "Said I've been out of circulation too long- completely out of the blue, too!"

Shizuka's eyes perked, "Really? For fuck's sake… without any warning?"

The emotionally unbalanced woman nodded feebly. "Yeah,"

"But why? Why would he do that without mentioning it? I guess he made no indication?"

"Of course he didn't- he's always so effing closed,"

"I understand that, Yuugao-San, I understand that very well," Shizuka said darkly, pulling their heads slightly closer so she could speak quieter, "You know, as family, the Uchiha are very proud of him and how far Uchiha-Taichou has risen is more than anyone could ever have hoped for… But his actions… his conduct…"

Shizuka laid the bait, and Yuugao snapped it up. "Yeah, his conduct!" The younger woman snarled.

The female Uchiha frowned at the other woman's bitterness, and shook her head with feigned shock, "Oh… Yuugao-San… I'm so sorry-"

"No, no- It's okay, I just wish he weren't so cold," Yuugao choked. "I thought… I don't know what I thought- he's reassigning me to North, or something, and that's such a pain- I have so many friends here and-"

Shizuka embraced the snivelling woman. "It's fine, it's fine- come here,"

"You're so nice, so lovely- so unlike your cousin," Yuugao half-snarled the final word, and this made Shizuka smirk wickedly.

"Yes, that's true,"

Then, Yuugao brought the embrace to a close, still holding back her tears of resentment. She stepped away from Shizuka and collected herself.

"Don't let me stop you," She said and went back to placing her belongings in the shoulder bag. "Go ahead,"

"You take care now," Shizuka said and turned towards the door.

"You too,"


Itachi felt bad for Yuugao, but it could not be avoided. She needed to go- he knew she was more upset about leaving her fully established life here than the fact he'd essentially used her for sex and then sacked her.

However, as he told her, the tears on her face angered him. It had been pitiful to watch. What purpose were they to serve? He would not change his mind; those words were final.

In truth, it had annoyed him mainly because today seemed like a bad day- right from the start. The grim promise of rain, the mysterious intruder, and now the stupidly emotional suspension of his secretary all appeared to surmount to an uncompromising dark cloud of strife that stalked him wherever he went. Along with every other problem under the sun, Itachi couldn't help but feel his feet breaking through the thinning ice of life.

A headache began in his temples, and his sole wish was for them all to go away and leave him to get on with his job.

After a couple of hours, his focus returned, and he was able to plunge into work. Lunchtime ticked by, but he did not stir from his office, and neither did Yuugao come to check if he wanted anything.

Just as he was completing some stats, he heard the outer door from the room beyond open, and a voice he had hoped not hear for a while filled the room like foul-smelling sulphur. Inwardly, Itachi's mind curdled with resentment.

What does she want? He fumed and cursed the ground that woman walked on. The urge to throw her out of his camp was beyond tempting.

He heard the hushed sniffles from the other woman, and Shizuka's sugar-coated poison. She was in the outer room for a fair few minutes before the witch waltzed in through his door, without knocking or any courtesy, like a damned apparition that were better off long-forgotten.

Uchiha Shizuka stepped in, without any acknowledgement. Her eyes were smiling as she placed all attention on the clear space above Itachi's head. She said not a word.

The room grew colder as a waft of chilly wind entered along with the woman. Itachi thought the discomfort satirised her perfectly.

The Uchiha commandant stared at her, masked and expectant, though inside he seethed with total hatred. He despised every little detail, especially what she represented in the Clan's context.

After minutes of deafening silence, Itachi spoke.

"What do you want, Shizuka?" He said, impassive as possible.

The woman's only reaction was a large, pearly grin and a small shake of her head. Her dark eyes finally landed on her younger cousin, and Itachi had never felt the urge to smack her more than then.

"Get on with it or leave," He snapped, a trickle of emotion seeping through. He hated losing his temper, but she was far too irritating.

The tone of his voice snapped Shizuka to attention, and her expression altered to something slightly more defensive.

"Can't I simply visit my cousin if I wish to?" She pouted, "You really are far too cruel sometimes,"

Itachi said nothing; he waited for her to continue.

Shizuka ignored his silence and wandered round the room. She pinpointed his window and gazed out beyond the glass, watching the greying ocean.

"You do have a beautiful view," She remarked, leaning on her arms, and stretching her back like a cat. The light illuminated her porcelain face; the pallor creating a doll-like countenance that Itachi knew was nothing but fallacy. "I'm jealous,"

"If you are attempting to seduce me again, then leave," He snapped, arms folding in menace. "The idea is sickening, and you may tell the Elders and Fugaku just what I think of their disgusting schemes, seeing as you're so eager to follow their direction all of a sudden,"

"Tell him- no, tell them, yourself Itachi," Shizuka grinned mischievously and sauntered towards his desk keen as any jezebel plucked from any seedy street corner. "Fugaku's only trying to keep you out of trouble- and that's nothing knew, is it? Why don't you just show your bloody gratitude, or, if you really want to set the room ablaze then why don't you just get some other silly cow, like that one out there, pregnant; now that would really piss everyone-"

"Get out." Itachi seethed, enough so for his eyes to bleed crimson. He glowered at Shizuka, sharingan alight and burning straight through her skull. His voice screamed finality and the aggressive action appeared to startle her.

She took a step backwards. Her face darkened, and the same impassiveness all Uchiha were able to muster at the best of times came over her features. She reached into her pocket, solemnly, and took out a note addressed to Itachi. She placed it on the table, and waited for him to take it. Itachi made no move.

"That's all I was here for, you ungrateful brat,"

"Get out."

Shizuka glanced up, frowning and apparently upset. She gave Itachi a long, beseeching look; it was almost an apology.

"Get out." Itachi repeated for the third time, and Shizuka finally conceded. Just as she slipped through the door, she paused in her step and took one last sorry look over her shoulder; just the curve of her cheek could be seen behind her lustrous mass of black hair.

"Don't ever walk in here without my permission," he announced, only loud enough for her to hear. "And don't ever come to see me again unless I order you to. Now get out of my office before you are thrown out."

Shizuka slunk away.

Relief flooded over the Uchiha in the most comforting of waves. The tension dropped from his shoulders, and the chakra left his eyes their hypnotic midnight shade.

His headache crept back like a recurring nightmare and he played with the idea of taking a rest up in his quarters.

The letter on his desk did nothing to quell his ominous mood. He recognised the handwriting, but the initial give-away was the fact that Shizuka had delivered it personally. He took it in his hand, and seemed to deliberate about whether to open it now, or to procrastinate and open it later. He played around with the latter idea, before yielding to his dreaded curiosity.

Tearing the letter open, he saw it was not long, and he was thankful for that small mercy. Wishing he now hadn't opened it before murdering a pair of sake bottles, Itachi begrudgingly read on.

Itachi,

I trust Shizuka has laid down the Clan's wishes. I have heard that you are not cooperating. Remember, it is a practice that has been utilised for centuries to keep our blood at its purest; you, as well as Shizuka, have talents that cannot be wasted, and never before have we been so desperate for new talent. Sasuke will be asked in time. You should know better than most that war will be upon us. Everything has been set in motion, and you must act accordingly. I know you understand your duties, but I wonder whether you will ever concede and do what is best for your family. I hope you will recognise your true Fate.

A month from now, I want you take leave. The Clan are uniting from all parts of the Fire Country, and all must be present.

On another note, as your father, it's my duty to question your behaviour. Your antics must stop, Itachi. We have heard enough outrage.

I await your response.

After his eyes travelled to the end of the last sentence, Itachi sat in a cold, depressive stillness, as if his brain needed a moment to catch up with time. The first letter he had received from his father in years, and it did nothing but anger him.

How much more callous could Fugaku be? How much more ludicrously blatant could the bastard become? It sickened Itachi, made him feel putridly aware of his Clan's disgraceful behaviour. The letter reminded him of his previous argument with Shizuka, of what was mentioned. Her fear of Konohagakure's suspicion screamed at him like a warning siren. For someone like her to change so suddenly…

The mentioning of inevitable war… the desperation.

This seemed all too familiar for Itachi to bear. Why could they never let go of such hatred? Why did they always believe they needed to prove themselves as a Clan- Itachi had done extremely well for himself, and so could others in his family if only they were let go of that pathetic, useless notion of prejudice. Of course, the Clan's history could do nothing to reassure their paranoia, but they forget: he saved them once, and if this was how they were going to conduct themselves then why should he carry on?

Itachi read through it again, and again, until all the characters turned in a circling mush of gibberish. Things were not as they should be, and the clouds manifesting in the vast sky above handed him a conclusive answer.

Why do they persist on destroying themselves?

Itachi felt nothing but shame for his family, and the sooner he could tell them just so, the better. Perhaps to smack them back to reality is the only way?

He had distanced himself from them; because he knew that was the only way he could hold back his hatred, that he could still harbour even the faintest glimpses of love for those twisted relatives.

Some, he would love unconditionally, but others he would rather see hang for what they have done to generations of his ancestors. The pride, the power, the ambition… so pointless. He wished he could quell every disillusioned child's disappointment. He wished that he could stop some much.

Angrily, Itachi punched a pile of documents to the floor. He felt them hovering in the space next to his head, hating the way they took so long to adhere to gravity. Resisting the urge to tear every single one of the to shreds, Itachi grabbed a pen and paper, and begun to write furiously.

It was shorter than his father's, and although a response was required, Itachi did not write to Fugaku; he wrote to Sasuke. When he finished, he folded it and slipped it into an envelope.

He stepped towards the door, and entered into the secretary's room.

"Yuugao-San,"

Yuugao spun around, obviously not sensing his movements at all. She really had been out of circulation for an unhealthy duration.

"Ye-Yes?" She stammered and looked him once over.

Itachi held the note out toward her. She took it.

"Could you post that on your way down?"

She nodded.

"Thank you," Itachi said quietly, but then turned back to her as if interrupted by an after thought. "Could you also inform Haruno Sakura that I wish to see her at eight o'clock, tonight, in her quarters?"

"Yes, sir," She nodded again.

"Thank you, Yuugao."

He turned back into his office, and began to tidy up the spilled documents.


Evening consumed the morbid day, and Sakura was finally able to remove her clinical attire. She let out an honest sigh of relief as the last of her rounds were covered. Locking her office, she bid her staff goodnight and smiled as she handed over the notes to the medic in control of the night rounds.

It was twenty-to-eight, and despite the minute walk to her quarters, Sakura couldn't help but feel rushed. She had been alerted to Itachi's visiting by Yuugao- not entirely what she'd been expecting. The girl seemed upset, and she talked to other members of staff who she obviously knew much better than Sakura.

But the older woman had made it perfectly clear that she did not want to talk with Sakura about anything.

Yuugao seemed particularly off towards Sakura, and the medic couldn't help but feel a self-conscious chill whenever the ANBU officer glanced her way.

What's her problem? Sakura had wondered, and was thankful that Yuugao chose not to stay long.

Afterwards, she had approached one of the other the younger medics the officer had talked to. She told Sakura that Yuugao was being transferred.

"Seems like Uchiha-Taichou got bored," She'd remarked a little too cattily for Sakura's taste. Thinking about it in retrospect, that girl had reminded her of a younger Ino (street-wise, blonde and sexy). She'd made some other bitchy and cruel remarks, but Sakura had decided to stop listening by that point.

Unlocking the door to her flat, Sakura's mind remained fixed upon the sudden dismissal of Yuugao. Her mind speculated, and if what she had gathered in small snippets of bitchy conversation, Itachi had grown bored of her for one reason and one reason alone. If anything, the miniature Ino had confirmed this assumption.

That appears to be the way he is… It seemed a pity; he didn't want to be tied to anything, perhaps not even his family. He hadn't been back in Konoha for years, and even Sakura noticed a silent tension between him and Shizuka. Sasuke barely mentioned him; she certainly hadn't known of his position here until their last discussion over breakfast.

These thoughts still fresh, Sakura fell onto her comfy sofa with a small "oomph" and flung her right arm over her eyes. She sat in silent stillness for a couple of seconds, before checking the clock on the wall. It read 7:37.

There wasn't really enough time for her to gather anything edible. She wasn't that hungry, although her last meal had been around half-one. Besides, she had gone longer without food. She was just tired. Sleep was what Sakura needed now, but that would have to be postponed.

Had she foreseen her tiredness, then perhaps she would have suggested tomorrow night as a better time.

Sakura smiled. Damn his persistence. It was in Itachi's character to act just so. He was eager to be proven correct; his scepticism revealed that much.

Once again, Sakura wallowed in the sweet periphery of sleep; it was like a cliff her body knew not to plummet from. She dosed blissfully for what could easily have been mistaken for hours. But Sakura was well aware that this was simply an illusion, for a knock on her door burst through her cloud of harmonious dosing.

She needn't ask who it was. Still groggy from fatigue, Sakura meandered towards the flat door, and opened it. As she expected, there was Uchiha Itachi, neither a second late, nor a second too early.

"Good evening, come in," Sakura greeted him, and allowed him to step through the threshold.

Itachi stepped through, all the whilst observing her. She was too tired, that was plain to see, and she had probably not eaten for a while. His deftness at managing to deduce these scraps of information was something of a sixth sense.

"You're very tired," He stated, but Sakura waved these words away.

"I'm fine," She said, "This will help relax me,"

Itachi scrutinised the kunoichi from under those criminally long eyelashes. "Very well," He said and glanced around the room, as if wondering whether anything had changed since Sakura had acquired it.

Having him here, in her own apartments, was so surreal to Sakura. In the dimly lit room the commandant was softened in the best of ways; not harsh in the blinding light of day. His face was one best suited to moonlight and the tint of lamplight. He was more beautiful than handsome, and that was seldom seen within the opposite sex.

In reality, Itachi's feminine features should have been held against him. In this world however, combined with his inherent powers and unique persona, these gifts of his mother appeared even more extraordinary. He was a strange, muted paradox.

"Can I get you anything…?"

"No, I'm fine thank you," He said watching her, surveying her. "I would like to start,"

"Of course," Sakura replied hastily, cursing herself for not being quicker and more assertive. "Would you prefer to stay in here or lie down in the bedroom?"

The connotations of what she had just mentioned made Sakura a little uneasy, but not a twitch passed across Itachi's face.

"I would rather the bed," He said and seemed to take himself there without waiting for her willful acknowledgement.

The action made Sakura gulp. She wanted to brew some tea- or perhaps coffee- but he might become impatient.

Itachi knew where to go, and Sakura followed at his heels. As they entered, she flicked the light on, and dimmed it so the illumination wasn't blaring and blinding.

"How long should it take?" Itachi turned and watched the tall trees sway in the breezy night.

"About an hour," She replied, and immediately snapped herself back into her clinical guise. She brushed past the Uchiha and rearranged the pillows so his neck wouldn't develop an ache.

Itachi's eyes followed her form, admiring the smooth contours of her back and the curve of her hips. Like every other kunoichi, her body was sleek and toned, yet still feminine in its silhouette and texture.

Sakura craned her neck back before moving out the way to let Itachi lie down. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes.

"Um, Uchiha-Taichou?"

He glanced up. "Hmm?"

"Could you also remove your shirt?" She asked, so humbly it almost made Itachi chuckle.

"Why?"

Sakura gulped but fought her embarrassment back. "It makes this treatment easier to conduct, sir,"

Itachi nodded, and shrugged out of his shirt.

Sakura inwardly smirked, and resisted to bite her lip. She was used to seeing good-looking young men remove their clothes (Naruto was no stranger to running around half-naked). Still, she could admit that what Itachi had was nothing less than stunning.

She successfully managed to watch him and avoid being caught simultaneously. Itachi made no recognition of her gawping at his chiselled torso, and Sakura was glad it was left merely at that.

She observed how his eyes watched nothing but the softly lit ceiling metres above, and how perfectly rays of muted light from the lamps on the walls illumed the soft lines of his countenance.

Sakura rubbed her hands together, warming them. It was never polite to place cold hands on uncovered skin.

"Are you warm enough?" She asked, before beginning.

Itachi nodded in response and awaited her touch. Though he would never admit it, this whole scenario intrigued him. The change in Sakura's mood too was intriguing. She inspected his torso, as if she were to take it apart with a scalpel. Her mindset was fascinating, and Itachi continued to spy her from lazy eyes.

Sakura drew a careful amount of chakra to her palms. Readying herself, she gave one last look at Itachi's face (he looked terribly bored) and rushed back into what she had promised.

She sat down on the side of the bed and twisted her body to face his, ignoring the uncomfortable warmth of Itachi's leg brushing against her hip.

Letting her hands rest barely millimetres from his chest Sakura's hard concentration followed her hands intensely as they warmed Itachi's skin. They danced paths of chakra-induced heat that she began to repeat, as if they were following a loop of stepping-stones.

Though Itachi was unaware at the start, tiny infusions of chakra slowly began to replenish and, in some cases, purify his own chakra, and his outer body. At first his aches and pains would not cease, and he felt himself growing increasingly impatient with the young woman. It seemed slow and tiresome. With these thoughts, his expectations lowered.

That said, it was immensely pleasurable, and he would tolerate it simply because of this.

He watched dosile and relaxed as the room's soft glow wrapped Sakura in its perfect warmth. It was as if here and only here could she be herself. There were no guards, no playful bravado and no silent blushes of embarrassment. No challenge. Here was Sakura, concentrating and mind fixed on only one single goal; it was as if no one could disturb her from that trance. Having Sakura's warm hands warm his skin was a curious sensation, and he pondered on why it felt considerably different from any other touch. It was not the same as the confident, searching touches of sex, and neither was it the same as chakra healing a gaping wound.

His eyes remained open, despite the temptation of giving in to this relaxation.

Numerous times, Sakura glanced up to watch the Uchiha fight the invitation of sleep her ministration promised, and she was tempted to ask him to close his eyes, for they were staring far too hard at her hands.

"Uchiha-Taichou, I think you will benefit more if you close your eyes; it would help you relax more," She suggested it tentatively, but met with glowering look of defiance.

Itachi would not allow that; he would get to the bottom of how she could induce these feelings. It was difficult, he realised, because he was already so relaxed.

Minutes ticked by, and they sat in silence for the entire time, both concentrating more than the other suspected. Neither made any signs of instigating a conversation; that was not the purpose of this visit. Itachi was suspicious of her methods, and Sakura was eager to impress her superior.

After about forty-five minutes, to his surprise, Itachi began to feel some of the aches and pains ebb away. They weren't healed as such, it was like they became suppressed and forgotten- a distant memory. The revelation excited him, and he could not understand what he had missed.

Taking a sly peek at the medic above him, Itachi bled his eyes to red for a second time that day. He did not really care whether the girl noticed or not, this had now become something fascinating, and only the sharingan could delve into its secrets.

He was not taken aback by the utilisation of chakra, as that had been expected. He was more captivated by what Sakura's chakra was doing, and why there was such a small amount being used.

Sakura pretended not to notice what Itachi was doing, and she hoped her satisfied smugness wouldn't rear its naughty head.

"What is your chakra doing precisely?" Itachi asked, somewhat coldly.

Sakura paced herself, so as she collected her words, there would be no interrupting her technique. "It's soothing, not quite healing, your muscles directly, though quite slowly. Then, from you muscles, my chakra is delving even slower into your chakra streams. I'm depositing some pure healing chakra, and letting it filter the rest," She paused, as if deliberating. "I have basically finished, sir. Although you won't feel much, if you keep coming back for regular treatment over the next couple of weeks, you will see a noticeable difference," From here she finished and took her hands away from Itachi's chest."I promise,"

The Uchiha sat up. There was no crick in his neck, nor any other aches for that matter. In this sense, he did feel better, but his insides felt raw and invaded. His fatigue was increased, but he had been fighting the clutches of rest since he laid his head on those wonderful pillows.

Sakura stood away from her bed and left Itachi to put his clothes back on. Here, she filled her neat little kettle and located her tin of herbal tea. She thought camomile would be the best option before bed.

Itachi soon followed her, his eyes unable to defy his weariness. She had not been able to do more, for that would overload his system and exhaust him further.

"Would like anything now before you leave, Uchiha-Taichou?" She doubted he would stay any longer, and was proven correct when Itachi politely declined.

"Thank you," He said, and Sakura knew this referring to everything she had done. "But I must leave,"

"Okay…" The kettle rumbled behind her. "You will feel better in the morning,"

This made Itachi smirk slightly.

"In which case, expect a full report tomorrow morning," He said slyly, and made his way to the door.

"Not giving me a time once again?" Sakura said playfully. "I'm a busy person as well, remember,"

Itachi stopped in his tracks and turned his body fully towards Sakura. Her back was to him, pouring a boiling cup of tea. Once again, his eyes inspected her from head to toe.

"Expect me anytime," He smiled to himself, deciding deviously what would be the plan of action.

"That's even worse!" Sakura spun around, but met with a closing door.

What the fuck? Sakura scowled, but decided she was too tired to actually care. Instead, she thought it best dimply to horde as much sleep as possible. The long, sleepless night before had taken its toll.

So wandering relaxed and sleep-ready, Sakura took her camomile tea into her bedroom and set it on the bedside table next to her double bed. She tugged on her nightclothes and quickly, but ever so gently; she was ensnared by the deepest of peaceful slumber.


It was early when Sakura had laid her head to rest, and it was still quite early (about ten-thirty) when Itachi finally conceded to peace. He slipped into bed, enjoying the softness of the sheets against his supple skin and the darkness soothing his eyes. Before he slept, he listened to the songs of the night.

Outside, the owls sang their nightly song, waiting for the unsuspecting prey to naively scurry out into the unprotected open. In the distance, foxes howled and yelped, as if trying to locate each other; or warn each other of danger, just as shinobi did.

He could not shake the feeling, just as he toppled over the border of unconsciousness, that he could not help but admire the cunning of these animals, for they exhibited something he valued above many things; the correct and calculated exploitation of patience, a virtue seldom refined by even the greatest of minds.


Shit, that was too long X.X

Thanks for reading and reviewing. xxx