A/N: Hey, another update! Sorry it took so long. A lot of people (including moi) have birthdays in April, so updating is tough when you're stressing on what to get the person for their sweet sixteenth birthday. I know it's short, but I'm keeping them that way purposely. A short story normally installs short chapters. They're not overly short, right? To the point? You guys decide. Please review if you like this story.
"When the world has gone blind, who will tell you to watch your step?"
Sakura opens the door to the autopsy room the following day, still shaken up about the encounter with Itachi's rather abrasive, and impatient, ghost, but is not taking his idle little threat passively. She believes that if she declines to present him with his eyes, he'll most definitely kill her.
Naturally, it should have sprouted some red flags, a signal that she should inform her friends that she's being plagued by his spirit. But, her obstinacy is greater than her cowardice, and so she finds herself gripping the handle but temporarily unable to open it.
Come on, Sakura, you can do it. Just open the door, walk in, and take the eyes with the baggie you have. No big deal. A good girl like you—they'd never suspect it.
Sakura would like to believe that that is how it would play out, but that nagging feeling of repulsion and fear of what she's going to do would not dissipate and go pester someone else. She takes a deep breath through her nose, surveys the halls for any passerby's, and slides the key lock into the slot and waits for the green light to confirm her status and let her pass.
As soon as the doors open she vaults to the storage room, where the sign HUMAN PARTS/STORAGE OF BODILY PIECES STAFF ONLY is plastered on the wall, and she inwardly cringes before plunging herself into the depths of various human body parts.
Severed arms, legs, torsos, fingers, toes, and other assortments of appendages are scattered around the white walls in cartons, trolleys, freezers, and Tupperware. The walls are washed white, and plain, the ceiling littered with vents and lights for medical purposes. The floor was tough linoleum so that the nurses wouldn't have to wear quite uncomfortable shoes around the hospital without suffering from a fatal fall. Sakura, personally, hated the smell that permeated the room and wished she could get out, but she had to get his eyes. She didn't want to think about what might happen if she didn't.
So, skulking around the room and trying to find the right cabinet to where the eyes were being kept, she puts on a false mask of importance, like she belonged there, and continues to creep along the walls while glancing at the numbers.
His eyes, like his body, were being held in a container labeled 23345, so pinpointing them wasn't as difficult as she had thought it would be. The container was blue and very solid, made for holding and keeping the items within it safe from any outside harm. There was a lock on it, also, for which Sakura held a key in her hands to remove it.
Taking a deep breath, she ghosts her fingers over the cover and then places it within her palm. Fishing through her pocket, she retrieves a key, and looks at it wanly for a moment.
A voice sounds beside her, almost startling her to the point where she has to fumble with the container.
"Good girl, you found them." Says Itachi.
Sakura sighs and turns around, and sees that his eyes are no longer there; black holes stare at her, going on for oblivion. He raises a hand, and points to his eyes.
"I need my eyes," he says, and she notices that he's not so intimidating than before. Figuring he can't see her, she smirks. So, you're not so uptight when you can't see what's in front of you. Is that it?
Boldly, she proclaims, "What if I don't give them to you?"
A shivering look crawls onto his eyeless face. "You do not wish to know that." Was all he said, and blindly his hand reaches for the container.
Sakura found herself steeling to retreat from the room, to run away from his apparition. But the knowledge that the entire thing might be solved by simply handing him his eyes was too tempting. She closes her eyes, and tucks the container under her armpit.
Itachi emits an irritated growl.
"Hand me my eyes." He steps closer. "I can't see without them. Give me my eyes and I'll allow you to live."
"But if I don't," Sakura takes a step back, "then I can run away from you, and you won't be able to find me."
A smile tugs on his pale lips. "Foolish girl," he reprimands, and again takes another intimidating step towards her. "Do you honestly think that since my eyesight has anything to do with my ghost being inside of your consciousness? Just because I can't see does not mean I can't find you either."
She grits her teeth again, angry that he'd sidestepped her accusation so easily, and clutches the container tighter.
"I'm not giving you them."
He says nothing, and she figures he's waiting for her to bolt. Well, that was exactly what she was going to do, and she calculates the best possibility of escaping without him snatching her from behind. After all, without his sight, he's practically impaired, right?
Chancing it, she channels chakra to her feet and jettisons forward, in between the small space that his body wasn't covering. His reaction time was paused, but he catches her by the ankle as she makes a move to vault over a table.
Sakura tumbles forward, container almost crushed by her weight. Catching herself, she sits upright and kicks away his hand, hating the feeling of his stretched and snake-like skin along her bare ankle. His grip is strong, powerful, despite his scraggly appearance, and she's afraid she's underestimated his abilities. Apparition or not, she could feel him regardless, and she questions whether or not this is some type of advanced genjutsu spell he cast upon her.
Abandoning the thought she flies forward and collapses on the ground, her ankle bent in a precarious way from his grip. She clambers to her feet, forgetting about the throbbing in her ankle, and races toward the door.
His body is hovering there, and she almost crashes into it. Her hands flew up automatically, dropping the plastic container at her feet with a resounding thud! and she pants for breath and awaits his next move.
He does nothing, stands there, blocking her only exit. She feels chagrinned, and chances for scooping up the container and maybe bashing him out of the way with a chakra-laden fist. The first plan works; she swoops down and cradles the container in her arms. Her fist then becomes ignited with blue chakra, making her nerves tingle in the sensation, and she pulls her fist back and strikes.
Itachi's dead hand captures hers, at an almost incomprehensible speed. Her breathing stopped, she's frightened at how easily he deflected the attack with an offensive one of his own.
"I cannot be harmed by your chakra, kunoichi." He hisses, and she notices from up close that his teeth are rotten and gray with decay. "It's useless. You'll never get rid of me."
She swings back, makes him release her wrist, and she's trapped inside of the room.
"Just hand them over," he says, his voice more controlled, sounding like the old impassive Itachi. "I won't harm you if you hand my eyes over to me. Just give me my eyes." The grin that had been on his face disappeared and set into a grim line, and his expression relaxes into one of composure.
Bit by bit, he resembles the enigmatic Itachi of the living, sending her into an emphatic faze. If she thought demanding, always angry, always cranky Itachi had been bad, the mind-playing, chilling, controlled one frightened her tenfold.
"Sakura." Her head almost receives whip-lash by how fast her head snapped around at the sound of her name on his tongue for the first time. Emerald met palpable blackness. "Just hand them over. My business with you will be done then."
"No." She says defiantly, and becomes more perceptive. "That's what you said about your body, too. Now look at you, demanding something else from me. What kind of a bargain was that?"
"I would have presumed my eyes had been accompanying my body with me," he says, voice cool and silky. "But I see that is not the case. I wish to have my eyes."
"What will you do with them?"
His bottomless eyes slit almost imperceptibly. "That, my young kunoichi, is none of your concern."
Her mouth quirks at the edges. "Obviously," she states, "it is my concern. It wouldn't be if you'd harass some other person for your eyes back, now would it?"
He accepts her point with silent agreement, and then his voice is back to being the persuasive, alluring tone. "But you're the one who killed me. I need you to bring me my belongings."
"To use them in the afterlife?" she guesses haughtily, and can't stifle the roar of laughter. "Not even Satan would welcome you in Hell. It would be more than a suitable sentence for you."
"Perhaps," he concedes. "But have you thought of my words at all since you've killed me? Did you become the greater kunoichi you've sought out to be?"
Sakura doesn't answer; her breath quickens and her pulse races.
"I assume that your answer shall be a no." He sounds almost…disappointed? Sakura shakes her head. No, Itachi wouldn't feel disappointed for her.
"Tell me, what did they do when they found out you're the one who defeated me?" he asks, voice lathered in genuine interest. Sakura finds it hard not to answer him truthfully.
"Tsunade-sensei thought I had lied." She whispers, and a chill strikes through her heart. Involuntarily, she can hear her voice rise octaves as she continues on. "And she thought I had had some kind of help, or that you weren't really dead. She didn't belief it was all me that killed you. I don't know why, but she just didn't believe me."
Itachi remains silent, digesting her words with thought. Sakura takes a breath, tries to steady herself. There was no since acting like a child now. She'd have to grow up some time.
"Technically," Itachi says finally, "you haven't killed me yet. My soul is still here."
"And that's exactly what I'm trying to get rid of."
He gives her a wry smile. "Hand over my eyes," he states, and his hand comes up in a conciliatory gesture meant to snatch the container, "and I'll be gone for good."
She wants to, every nerve, every cell, is screaming for her to hand them over and be done with his foolishness. But her hands, rebelling against everything else, tightens around the plastic container and she hugs it to her chest.
Let go! Let go! Give them to him! Sakura shouts internally, ordering her hands to move. But they don't budge, remain the way they are. She suppresses a groan.
"Sakura," Itachi calls, and she peaks through her pink bangs to see that he's closer. "Hand me my eyes now."
"I can't." She states. "My hands won't move."
He stops midstride, and evaluates her, searching for deceit. He doesn't respond to her abnormal behavior, rather steps back.
"I'll give you two hours to make up your mind on giving me my eyes back. Once the two hours are up, and you decide to refuse my demand, I'll take them by force."
She watches as his apparition evaporates into the air and leaves her alone. Steadying herself, she ambles out of the small room with wobbly knees and walks down the hospital's hallway and toward her shishou's room. Her fingers dig into the container, almost applying enough pressure to collapse the thin material.
Sakura grits her teeth, and walks into her Tsunade's courters. Immediately, Tsunade senses the distress emanating from Sakura's form, and the feel of her chakra flaring and nipping at her flesh.
"Sakura, what's wrong?" Tsunade asks worriedly, and her honey-brown eyes descends to the container. "What do you have in the container?"
Sakura forces herself to loosen up her grip on the container, and plasters a fake, genuine look of curiosity to replace the one of perplexity.
"I was just wondering, shishou, if it'd be alright if I'd burrow the eye samples from Itachi to further investigate them. You see…I want to conduct a solo autopsy, if that's okay." As Tsunade is about to reply, Sakura cuts her off. "I'll continue working on his body, too. I just want to research for myself."
Tsunade, brows knitted tightly together, interweaves her fingers and sets her chin a top them. "I'm not so sure, Sakura," she says, and Sakura's hopes are vastly diminishing. "I mean, it's not like I don't trust you, it's that it's secured there for the other medics to analyze. Having you…borrow them might cause some sort of a hazard."
"Just one day?" Sakura requests, fingers unconsciously tightening around the container again. "I'll be careful with them. Just for the rest of the day, I want them. Can you give me that? I know the staff's already—"
"Sakura, I wish I could. But I can't."
Frustrations swells in Sakura's gut, and she tries to force it down with little success.
"But shishou, please." Her look of confusion melts into one of anger. "I'm the one who killed him. I should get the privilege to do my own private research. I realize that others are involved in this, too, but please, I just want them for a day."
Tsunade heaves a morose sigh, and closes her eyes, contemplating. Sakura takes this as a good sign—whenever the mighty Hokage chooses to close her eyes and think about something she is trying to transgress all of the cons to pros and allow her student the opportunity she wants.
After several moments of tense silence, Tsunade waves her hand dismissively. "Fine. One day. Bring them back to the storage facility first thing tomorrow morning. No later than nine o'clock."
Sakura bows and says thank-you a multitude of times before slipping out of the office and clutching the box to her chest.
Itachi's apparition appears beside her, a look of gratitude on his pale, withered face.
"Thank you, Sakura." He says, and she doesn't want to listen to him. Her head turns the opposite way. "Now, come. Back to your apartment so you can lend me my eyes."
Wordlessly, Sakura treks down the hallway and out of the door, where she starts home, a ghost looming ominously behind her.