Dedication: To Jenny, for ambushing me to demand I finish this fic (I hope you read this because I finally did it!); to Hannah, for being excited to, you know, read this; to les for beta-reading a major part & telling me that I should keep going; also to les for telling me to stop thinking so much & just write; to Sara, for being her amazing self; to Emily, for her passion; &, lastly, to the family – hey, I still know how to write. I think.
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from everything you read here as they originated with Kishimoto; the only profit I receive is writing practice & joy for sketching this out.
Notes: Wow... I haven't updated this in over a year. Totally apologize, especially since my lack of muse for this story made me wonder for a while whether I ever would again. Thus, I cannot make promises on updating. At this point, I have one other ItaSaku & an orig!fic that is my number one priority. However, I hope to update this this summer, so... fingers crossed? Thank you so much for your patience, though, assuming anyone still wants to read this.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three : Idolization

"He, who had done more than any human being to draw her out of the caves of her secret, folded life, now threw her down into deeper recesses of fear and doubt. The fall was greater than she had ever known, because she had ventured so far into emotion and had abandoned herself to it." ― Anaïs Nin

Things weren't supposed to go this way.

Sakura couldn't help but think that, despite the fact that nothing ever goes as planned and who was she to think things would go a certain way just because she had set her side up. After all, the world has always been built out of actions and reactions; she had thought of what she'd do in any situation, but she couldn't predict what other agents would do.

No matter her abilities – crushing things in her gloved hands, severing chakra flow, healing – she was limited to the situation she was in.

And this particular one wasn't pretty.

She contemplated moving, but the feel of strings massaging her wrist every few seconds reminded her of an early mission with Team Seven and shuriken on invisible wires as well as Shisui's name, having reached almost legendary stature before he had even reached thirty. Her shopping bags were right by her heels, hindering her movement enough to make her consider flitting away on chakra-aided feet a bad idea.

"Don't even think of turning around. Maybe you broke out of my jutsu before, but believe me when I say have many more things up my sleeve than you have ever seen before."

The voice had cold joy to it, though there was so much grimness and determination that Sakura was fooled for a moment.

Remaining silent, her mind furiously tried to calculate whether the non-existent wind was in her favor or not and whether ripping the bridge out of its place would be helpful.

"When did you realize who I was?"

A chuckle, and the voice moved to her left.

"There are some things you can't forget, no matter how hard you try. Don't you think so, Sakura-chan? I saw you in the marketplace. I saw the people you saw.

"The people you didn't see."

Sakura's heart was barely under her command. It wished to race, to expose itself and show fear, but she knew that she had to keep a level head. Shisui had probably activated his Sharingan, and she knew that, no matter how much she had trained, there was no way she'd outmatch him.

Besides, if she tried to fight them, how would she complete her mission? They would, theoretically, out her and she'd be shot with a katon before anyone could sneeze.

Which brought forth the question…

"Why haven't you just turned me over to the guards, Ino-pig?"

"Don't call me that, Haruno," she snapped. "We're not friends, anymore, so let's keep it professional. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

"Remember that you need to stay professional, too. This isn't personal."

But Shisui was wrong. It was very personal, and there was no way anyone, no matter how qualified, could separate the past from the present completely. She could not deny having abandoned her best friend to save her own skin, and she wondered if that kind of betrayal could ever be fixed.

How could she even think to ask if they would ever be okay?

"The point is, Sakura-san," Shisui continued, "we know you are here for a reason. What we have been wondering for the past three weeks is why. As a known refugee and supporter of the old system, it would've been really dangerous for you to come back. Seeing as you are under an alias, we figured that you are working as part of a greater group. Presumably the other escapees."

"May I turn around?"

There was a pause.

"I don't want to see her face any more than I have to," Ino said.

"Then why don't you turn around? It's not like I enjoy looking at your face either."

Sakura said it without thought, regretting it the second the words burst into the air. She'd meant the uncomfortable weight of guilt that settled around her shoulders and in her heart that increased tenfold every time she saw Ino. It hadn't been a personal attack, but, considering the sudden pressure of Ino's mind on hers, it had been taken as such.

"Ino, you can go back to headquarters," Shisui said tiredly. "I can handle her from here, and it would help me, to have direct eye contact."

The blonde huffed. Sakura wondered what they were doing. Staring into the river could only be fun for so long, and there was so much information to be gained from words and tone.

She focused her chakra on her wrists, slowly and quietly wearing away at the chakra threads with it until there was just a thin filament holding it together.

"We don't know what she can do, Shisui. The last time I trusted her, I ended up here, so believe me when I say the more people on this the better. Didn't you say she trained with Tsunade, one of the three Sannins? The one with super strength? If she taught Sakura healing, then I doubt she missed out on the super strength.

"And we all know you're mostly a short-distance attacker, so you'd be outmatched, even with your flashy sidest-."

In a split second, Sakura severed the strings completely and twisted around. "Okay, so I know that I was here under false pretense, but we're all on the same side, aren't we? If you thought I was going to hurt you or whatever you're doing, you would have killed me by now, so can we just be candid here and reach a conclusion this before I lose my temper?"

Ino and Shisui were standing on the bank of the river, just by the entrance to the bridge. Shisui's Sharingan was activated. Blank faced, they were both standing in very loose fighting stances, settled on the balls of their feet with their legs spread. Their hands were held in front of them, ready to initiate an attack should she make an offensive gesture, she supposed.

When it was clear they weren't going to say anything, Sakura folded her arms in front of her chest. She wasn't really a fan of telling secrets out in the open, but there were two of them and one of her, and, despite her training, she knew that they'd be evenly matched enough that her life wouldn't be secure if she didn't go with what they wanted.

For now, at least.

"Let me guess, there is some kind of resistance within Konoha which has been planning a rebellion since the coup and you are two of their double-agents."

Ignoring the way they tensed as she braced her hip against the bridge casually, she continued, "Since I'm new, they did their research – well, more than the Hokage's team did, obviously, since I'm still here – and realized that Yamamoto Midori's records were rather… flimsy. Probably questioned a few of the right people in Suna that didn't know that Midori-san had ever been their physician. Then you tracked me down my first day of work."

"Which leads to now," Shisui agreed, "except for one part: Ino recognized you when you came in for your interview with the head of the hospital. All of the background checking was just to check that it was, in fact, you."

"We're supposed to bring you to the meeting, so we can decide what to do with you," Ino said coldly. She took a step forward, more threatening than not with its graceful and hushed slight movement.

Sakura shook her head. "I can't do it today."

"This isn't because of Sasuke, is it?" Ino's eyes were narrowed until they looked like slits of ice. "He isn't who you thought he was when we were kids. You can't trust him. This proves that we can't take your judgment seriously since you are still so affected by your past. Since we have no confidence in you and we are at a larger risk than you, you have to prove yourself to us first."

She stayed firm, though, staring Ino straight in the eyes. Neither looked away as Sakura said, "You are one to talk about the past, since it's obvious you have not moved on. Presumably, you have people watching my move every minute of the day, so give me one day. Just one. I'll meet with your group tomorrow after I contact mine to give them an update. I am not going into a den of potential snakes just to satisfy you."

Shisui, examining her with a glance, shrugged before dropping his hands to his side. "That's reasonable, I suppose."

Not looking too happy, Ino kept her own arms in front of her. "I'll go tell Sensei. Make sure she isn't jerking our leg, Shisui. See you later."

She didn't address her old friend before vanishing.

Sakura blinked.

"Where'd she go?"

The Uchiha waved his hand dismissively. "To tell the team. Don't worry about it, for now. You will meet them later."

His eyes, however, remained focused on her as he brought his hands up to his lips. In a swift series of movements, they twisted and formed in the air until they stopped in the tiger formation. The wind returned around them, and, with it, the quiet gurgling of the river against rocks.

Her obliviousness to that obvious change made her want to give herself a good kick.

"A genjutsu?" she guessed. "For privacy? Presumably, Ino used her family's mind jutsu to enter it after you trapped me in it. I just can't figure out when you did that… Was it just an auditory genjutsu with, perhaps, a visual overlay for anyone who would happen to be in the perimeter…"

He grinned at her. "You're pretty smart."

"Thanks for the memo."

Shisui ceased grinning at her to stare at her seriously. The constant shifting on his mood almost unnerved her. It might've also been the fact that she hadn't expected an Uchiha to be in any effort to revert to the former government system, not to mention this one. The past three weeks had taught her that he was something of a happy-go-lucky person who tended to get along with almost everyone.

So why?

"What are you going to do about Itachi?" His voice was quiet but audible over the river flow and wind as he stepped closer to her.

The question startled her out of her mental analysis, leaving her to blink at him in confusion.

"What about him?"

"Are you going to kill him?" he asked bluntly. "Or are you actually going to help him?"

Sakura chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"I don't know," she told him. "I truly don't know."

She liked to think he knew that the miserable look on her face was real.

He walked her back to her apartment.

It wasn't as awkward as she had expected it to be, just quiet, though that only lasted for a few blocks.

"We've been partners for a few years, now, and I remember the way she looked at me when we were first assigned. Took her a few months to even let me poke her without trying to scalp me." He looked over at her.

"She seems to hate you a lot more than that."

Sakura had wondered how long he would wait before bringing it up; it had been a little longer than she'd expected, considering who she was talking to.

"You cannot hate someone a little, Shisui-san. Either you hate someone or you don't."

"Fine. She seems to hate you. Period."

Her arms hugged her tightly as they walked, her shopping bags hitting the sides of her thighs with every step. "And I gave her every reason to."

They made the rest of the way to her place, lost in their own thoughts, before he left for his own home.

As she burrowed into her bed later that night, her heart beating at a slow, steady pace, Sakura wondered where this was all going. She ignored the more cynical of the thoughts – whether the two groups will have anything to gain working together or whether it would just create a schism later, whether Shisui thought it was a lonely walk to the Uchiha compound, whether Itachi was at home or on a mission, whether Sasuke still thought of Team Seven as she, Kakashi, and Naruto thought of it or whether he was with his clansmen.

Sasuke…

Then sleep held her, and the thought drifted out through the slightly open window and into the occupied shadows.

The only things lighting the words on the scroll was the moon and the melting candle in front of it.

Pushing away the temptation of leaning back to crack his back, the Godaime Hokage leaned over the missive and doggedly attempted to make more ground on the day's work.

It wasn't really working.

Fugaku sighed and stood up. He padded over to the sole window in the room and looked towards the fullness of the moon. Under a shadow of the sun's bright light, the village laid out before him, full of its own shadows and dark peace. It was quiet; he noted the manned posts and allowed himself to put aside his white hat for a moment to look at all that lay before him without the scope of a leader.

He was more than that, he told himself. A husband, a father, a shinobi…

Though that all came second.

Sometimes, he regretted that.

Sometimes, he regretted that, but, as the Council always said, "There's always a bigger issue out there that puts everything else we care about behind it. Sacrifices are essential."

It made sense; after all, you cannot gain anything without using up some of your limited resources. There had to be priorities and the greater need of the whole rather than that of the view must remain intact.

The opulent crest of the gate leading into the Uchiha compound glinted brightly even in the dark as a cloud passed over the moon, the red gem embedded in its center gleaming whenever moonlight hit it at the right angle. White stucco was barely visible beyond the entrance, but stood out when he looked over the wall in rows of flat roofs. Nothing moved among the homes. His eyes softened almost visibly as he looked at the vespertine peace.

It was worth it.

He turned his back on the eastern half of Konoha, deigning to finish reading the missive as he paced around his office.

The Council of Elders had already impressed upon him the importance of this treaty with Suna. They were, after all, one of the suspected hubs of the outer resistance's activity. Very little had been happening within the village, so far as he or the Council were aware of and they were aware of more than any of the rebels thought they were.

What was of concern, however, was the increasingly volatile situation outside of the walls, where there was very limited control. There were formal alliances with the other hidden villages, most of which went back to before the coup. On official channels, they had agreed to maintain their relationships despite the change in leadership, but Fugaku was not so naïve so as to think that, if the resistance was to become a functional force, their support would leave faster than he could say, "civil war."

His brow furrowed, he continued to read.

The One-Tails host had been Kazekage for just under five years now, having come into the position a few months after his father had been killed at the chunnin exams. As far as anyone had been able to tell, it had been a genuine accident, a casualty of the chaos.

With Gaara's years of experience, even if he was younger than Fugaku's eldest son, he was capable of putting together a very tempting settlement. A lower tariff on transporting Konoha's goods into Suna, transportation of any Konoha missing-nin caught by Suna's shinobi and kunoichi in return for a modest return fee, monthly discussions about the relations between their two villages and how to improve them…

All of the changes were innocuous and, if anything, mutually beneficial.

Too innocuous.

Too mutually beneficial.

Fugaku frowned as he sat down at his desk. He had no doubt that the Council had already read this and had approved it with very minor changes, but there was a large part of him that found it to be more than a little suspicious…

Despite said misgivings, though, he pulled out the official stamp, pressing it into the red inkpad, and officially signed the treaty. They didn't believe without a reason, and, with the transportation and imprisonment of rebels, they would finally begin to quell like its support just as easily as they started a fire.

Placing the pad of paper in his designated finished file, he stood up to stretch, reaching for his light coat, and slipped out the window on his way down. While it was pleasantly warm during the day, one in the morning were still a little on the chilly side.

Speaking of chilly...

He began to form the signs for the transportation jutsu as the thought of his wife's reaction to his late return crossed his mind. Every time he didn't return home in time for dinner, she berated him while their sons sat neatly at the dinner table and watched as if it were the most interesting spar.

The last sign made the ramshackle houses of the east-side fade around him before his surroundings reemerged as the white stone of his family's home. There was a faint light on in the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, he saw Mikoto sitting at the table with her back to the door, reading the newspaper by candlelight. Her hand impatiently pushed a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear.

"Am I going to have to repeat the talk?" she asked as she turned the page.

"If you remember it, you're welcome to it." Fugaku took the seat next to her. He yearned to reach over and brush that rebellious forelock out of her way, but he knew she wouldn't take it well. In a clan where feminine dependency was the celebrated norm, Mikoto Uchiha had always been the black sheep. Even in such a small matter as this and their close relationship, she would fiercely rebuke him for "invading her personal space thoughtlessly".

A smile tugged at his lips as he watched her as she finished the article, her dark eyes intently following the words down and across the page. After over twenty-five years of marriage, he knew her well enough that she wasn't done with him, simply gathering her thoughts before confronting him again.

As he waited, Fugaku sent his chakra out in a small web to search the house, feeling the absence of Itachi in his room; presumably, his team was still out completing the mission he had assigned them a few days ago. Iwa was a day or two's journey from Konoha, so he didn't expect his son back until tomorrow at the earliest. Sasuke's chakra signature, on the other hand, was moving a bit in his room. He recalled that it was one of his few days off.

The snap of the closing newspaper drew his attention back to his wife as she neatly folded it back up and set it on the table.

"The treaty could have waited for your attention until tomorrow, and you know that."

Fugaku didn't bother asking her how she knew about it was nowhere near common knowledge; besides a genuine affection for her in their youth that had burgeoned into love, he had married her for her skills as a kunoichi in both information-collecting and battle.

Resting his elbows on the table, he looked at her. "The Council believed that we should clear it up as soon as possible. Lower costs, greater security - the Kazekage's provisions clearly would make the village even stronger, so why wait?"

"For the Council of Uchiha Elders or Konoha?" she asked, staring him straight in the eyes.

"Is there a difference?"

She snorted. "You know I love you, Fugaku, but you need to look closer at this. Who really benefits from the rebels being collected? Who has really gained anything from us taking charge of the village while most people lose and mumble malcontent when they think no one can hear?"

He couldn't help but stare at her. It had been clear to him from the beginning that she had not approved of the coup, but had, characteristically, kept her mouth shut.

"Do you know how close you are to treason?" Fugaku whispered.

Mikoto leveled him with a look. Even though the hair at her temples was starting to whiten and slight wrinkles had formed in the outer corners of her eyes, she could still send the same bullshitting look she had when they were children. "You're the Hokage, dear. Is candid speech now illegal, especially when it is the truth?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he looked away from the accusation.

"It's only getting later, the longer we sit here," he told the plate of uneaten onigiri by the sink. "We should turn in."

There was not even a sigh as she stood up.

Walking down the hallway, the last thing she said before they got in bed was, "Sometimes, I wonder if you're still the same person I fell in love with. I love our family and I think we've raised Itachi and Sasuke well – that you have been a great father and I a good mother. Perhaps they are not who the Council wishes they were. God knows they wanted weak-willed followers who would bring just the clan glory and give them the greatest hold, but the village is bigger than that. You wear the Hokage's hat, not them, you know, and you have the ability to bring the entire village to greatness. I know I can't tell you how to run the village – you are, despite your unwavering faith in the elders, a good leader.

"But if you don't seek to open your eyes, you will never ascend to greatness."

Nine o'clock in the morning brought forth a cheery ray of sunshine to fall through every window in the hospital. Sakura could feel it in her smile as she trotted down the hall to her small office on the fifth floor.

To be fair, it was a nice enough office, even if it wasn't as big as the one Gaara had set up for her in Suna. It had just enough room for a desk, a free-spinning desk chair, a bookcase, and an extra chair for someone else to sit in.

However, the key, Sakura thought, was the view.

At first glance, it was nothing special. Directly east of the Hokage's office, the far side of the hospital faced the poorest district within Konoha. Every day, she looked upon those who had next to nothing. There were people sitting on street corners, wearing all they owned on their backs, quietly soliciting anyone who came by; she saw old women, their legs splayed into the streets, calling for spare change, any change, please change.

Some days, she saw little boys and girls dropping food into the laps of the old. Her heart jerked as she thought about their opportunities, or lack thereof. They wouldn't be able to pay for admittance into the ninja academy, assuming the clans even let them in in the first place. There was, she supposed, the community school in the northern district, but she didn't hold out any hope for that…

She noticed the children, playing with spare plastic bottles, kicking them into buckets. Very frequently, they were covered in more grime than could be found in and on most any dumpster.

Their smiles were bright, brighter than any she had ever seen on Sasuke-kun's face.

Today, she had very little time to watch, though. Mogusa-san ran a tight ship, meaning she needed to catch up on her paperwork before she left at the end of her double shift in… Sakura checked her pocket watch.

Seven hours. There would be a brief break for lunch, she promised herself, if she finished half of her paperwork by noon.

She needed to get her hair cut again, she remembered, blowing her bangs out of her face. The last time she'd gotten it done was before she left Suna, and she hadn't done more than apply the conditioner that came with the dye in a week. She would have to get both that done before Ino came by her apartment at eight to escort her to the meeting place…

After scrawling, "Hair," on a post-it and sticking it to the mini-board by her desk, she pushed the sleeves of the green turtleneck under her scrubs to her elbows before hunkering down and attacking the pile at the front of her desk.

Two hours passed slowly and the work even more so, but there was an obvious dent in the pile that was left to do. Her hair tied back, Sakura inclined in her chair in an attempt to get rid of the small ache in the small of her back after being hunched over for hours. It took almost bending over backwards to get the audible crack of her back accompanying the feeling of relief.

She took a moment to close her eyes and enjoy the fresh air coming in through the window. It brought with it the bargain calls of venders and shrieking of mothers after mischievous offspring.

A slice of life.

There was a knock at the door, and Sakura reluctantly sat up again.

"The front desk told me I'd find you here," said the ghost. Black eyes blinked, unfair eyelashes shielding them from her view, and he tilted his head.

"I hope you appreciate it, because you will not believe how many times I had to say no to offers for lunch, some even reluctantly. I suppose they're a testament to the fact that you can, in fact, have brains and beauty."

In a testament to her skills, Sakura managed to get her jaw off the floor before he finished talking. "What are you doing here?"

Sasuke blinked nonchalantly at her. "Taking you to lunch."

"It's not time for my lunch break."

Her stomach grumbled, and Sakura wanted to hit herself. Out of any possible excuse to get out of having lunch with him, she offered that one? Why not, "I already ate"? Or "I have plans"? Or, most obviously, "I don't know you"? Lie as it was, it was true as far as he knew it. The way he raised a single eyebrow to counter her logic made it obvious that he found it as pathetic as she had.

"Mogusa said it was fine."

"Sorry, but I don't want any favors. And you don't even know me. Do you regularly take people you aren't familiar with out for food? Surely your mother taught you about stranger danger."

He spread his arms, right shoulder braced against the door siding. "You remind me of someone I know, even if I just saw you for a second."

Walking forward, he grasped her hand. "And I'm Sasuke. Uchiha Sasuke."

Scrutinizing him, she unsubtly looked him over, from the familiar hairstyle to the tip of his sandals. Unsurprisingly, he was wearing the green of a jounin, now, over the dark blue of his clan and its symbol on the sleeves of the shirt. Her heart clenched as she remembered short-lived dreams to don the vest.

It's not too late, she told herself firmly.

"What if I don't want to go?"

"Then I'd call you a liar."

Before she could shriek and call him out on his narcissistic attitude, he held up a hand. "I didn't say it because I think I am that great, though there is much evidence for that statement."

A small gesture towards her face, he said, "Your eyes lit up when I mentioned lunch. Then there's the fact that have a little clock there, counting down to noon, and your eyes have been darting to it every so often for the past… five minutes. And do I have to mention your stomach?"

Her face heated up and she bit her lower lip.

This couldn't be a good idea under any circumstance. Who knows if he'd really recognized her and was just trying to pull her out of the hospital under false circumstances so as to put her away for good? Torture her for information with the Sharingan? And, even if he didn't recognize her now, that wasn't to say he wouldn't while they were out for lunch.

But Sakura rationalized; she knew enough to get away should it turn out to be a trap.

Maybe it was just the hunger speaking when she said, "If I get fired, I hope you know you're going to be liable for compensation."

He smirked, and part of her childhood just about died.

Or fainted. She wasn't quite sure at this juncture.

"No need to worry..." he peeked at the name on her desk, "Yamamato Midori."

Further Author's Note: I'm test-driving Sasuke for now, so I apologize for inconsistencies.. He's not all angsty, but also not a tease or a playboy. He talks (evidence above) and is close to his mother more than his father. Most importantly, he is showing interest in agirl, but that doesn't mean he loves her or anything.

Most importantly, he is something of a gentleman. His mother has taught him (& Itachi) well.

I suppose I should take the time to note that, while this is ItaSaku (for sure), it will take a while to get there. Sakura's indecision about holding Itachi's life in her hands is, as the last chapter showed, not necessarily due to personal feelings for him but by her official & perceived duties. She treats him a few days awake, &, obviously, her relationship (however that goes) affects how Itachi interacts with her.

Thanks for reading, & feel free to ask questions. :)