.

Quatre|Four

He could hear nothing but his breath, and, vaguely at that. There was a heat on his face; a coolness of a breeze swept across his skin, but, he was not wholly aware of any of this. Warmth surrounded him, swathed him in the way that a mother might wrap her child. The quiet stilled him softly. The comfort under him lacked the hard, penetrating surface he had once been accustomed to.

And yet… something invaded his senses; it pricked at them. No matter how old you got, or, how long remained away from the rush of heat… there were just some things you never really forgot. Thumps broke through the fog around his ears; his breath changed as he felt the offset of air around him; glassy orbs shifted beneath soot-lashed hoods; blood rushed faster through his veins; something twitched.

That heat got closer; the saturated rise of that heat, of another breath barely danced over his bare flesh. He felt himself counting. And then…

His hand snapped out, cuffing over a wrist; in the same fluid motion he slid the kunai from under his pillow, pulled the invader over him, found himself between their thighs and jerked the cold steel of the blade to their throat.

He could hear the pound of his heart in his ears; their gasp was distinct; the air that left through passage of his flaring nostrils was slow and heavy all at once. He could not think; he could only act. Images of long before pervaded his mind's eye; the flashes were distinct and clear, yet, at the same time a phantasm. He could smell blood, burning flesh; he could hear screams; sometimes a few, sometimes one, and, then sometimes a great many of them all at once. He could see licking flames that went one for miles; chaos echoed an endless stream into his consciousness. Bones broke under his grip; minds collapsed under his accelerated action. A sword, a kunai, stabbed repeatedly into a woman, a man; they cried out in agony; their words of mercy pierced his ears and cut what was left of his soul. Poison was the cloak he wrapped his body in; it was a neverending agony he ignored for the sake of the mission—duty.

His eyes were open, but, he could see nothing but the past as it rolled out before him in a flurry of filmed after images made to seem real, locked in the present.

"Itachi."

A hesitant grip squeezed his shoulders; the pressure was soft.

He jerked the weapon in his hand, the action was hard and threatened to peal the enemy's throat open in the fracture of a second.

"Itachi."

There was a chime; the sound dredged on, a litany in his ears. He swallowed, once again recaptured by hate, bloodlust, pain, ache, agony, revenge. He could see the straw-wicker of a hat; white paper strips hung and floated in the wind; the chime sounded again. Red was swallowed by black; the black laced it in a swirl, coiling the taint of blood into a pattern better suited in the sky.

"It's Sakura."

Honeysuckle.

Everything faded slowly; the bile rising in his mind, the one that suffocated his lungs and heart all at once, receded… The images gradually sunk to the abyss. He watched, felt, as they trickled back into the caged box in the back of his subconscious; a metaphorical chain wrapped about the trunk… locking.

When the world around him came back into focus Itachi couldn't quite just then fathom the position he was in, or, who he was in it with. Quiet continued to wash over him as his grip on the kunai loosened; warmed steel wrapped in linen slipped from his fingers and bumped gently along the mattress. He could hear birds chirping in the distance; a wind danced through the screen of his windows. The breeze upset his hair; it tickled his features, kissing them like a lover's caress. There was the sting of the sun on his bare flesh.

The beat in his chest slowed, not stilling back to its usual relaxed pace. There were a mixture of scents that wafted over his senses; the masculine hint of sweat on his sheets, pine and earthy underbrush from the outdoors which was brought in with the wind, and… honeysuckle.

Cotton half stuck to his thighs and his hips—his calves. His feet were in a tangle of material he could only identify as his comforter… and there was the bareness of skin against skin, heat against heat. He was made aware of his hand on her shoulder, his left forearm holding her bicep down, his other hand now half resting in much the same position.

There were mounds, soft in the barrier of her binds; his chest flattened them. His stomach, as bare as the rest of his body from his waist up, covered hers. The faint hairs along her skin tickled his abdominal; they were coarse with their mutual pull and release of air; he realized her shirt had ridden up. The bite of her waistband cut that area just above his groin under the material of his pajama pants.

She was warm all over; the temperature coming off her in waves seeped under his skin and threaded through the rest of his body, his blood. Breath fanned over his face, spreading over his lips, his cheeks, and his nose to dance a fragmented erratic path across the space of his soft and angular features; he could smell mint. There was a disturbance in the loosely bound strands that fell over his shoulders and around him; precariously, with what little movement was caused by his short exhales, they felt further; and though he could only feel it… he imagined the curtain of ebony trailed around their faces…. mere inches apart. His nose inadvertently brushed hers.

Again, rather suddenly and unexpectedly, he was struck with that desire to see her. The thought was raw, brief, and not fully recognized for what it was; the idea was so very different from what it had been yesterday. Was she staring at him stoically… with fear in her eyes… a smile…

The hands on his shoulders squeezed again. "Are you alright?" he heard her say, quietly.

He blinked slowly; his lips parted and he couldn't quite formulate what expression he wanted to settle for. Instead, he closed his eyes and pulled away; a coldness passed over him as the stick of his body tugged away from hers and he situated himself back onto his bottom. One leg was drawn up; he placed the bend of his elbow on the top of it; his hand hung loosely. His other leg became bent at the knee and laid on its side, foot under the bent arch of his other knee. His free hand came up as he dropped his head slightly; fingers dragged through his wantonly long strands, pulling them away from his eyes and face for only a moment.

He felt the bed move; her body shifted… she was closer to him. He tensed, unsure why his body had that reaction.

"I wouldn't have woken you… but, it's nearly ten and I have lunch prepared for you." He could hear the pause, feel the tug … she wanted to say more. "…Is there a better way to wake you in case of I have to do so again?" She wasn't even asking why; the tenseness left his body almost immediately… he hadn't been expecting that.

"You could attempt calling my name," he offered without waver or rise in his voice.

"I tried that."

He could feel her eyes on him.

"Then perhaps waking me from the foot of the bed would be best."

"Ah… well, yes, perhaps. Until you decide it's a good idea to throw the kunai at me."

That bright, clockwork mind wrapped around her words, reflecting on the weight of them. It was then he tried to calculate a better way for her to wake him if she had to. A good minute passed before he heard something… laughter. Her laughter.

He sighed. "You are teasing me."

"Only a little. I'm quite sure if you decide to throw the kunai at me I can dodge it, Itachi-san."

He should have come to that conclusion himself; she was adept enough, after all.

"Vixen," he muttered uncharacteristically as the bed dipped and he heard footpads, indicating she'd gotten up.

If she heard him she ignored him. "I've brought books for you today. When you're ready come downstairs; food is on the table."

He nodded as he rubbed his temple. Ten… he'd really slept in till ten?

He ran a hand through his unbound strands again. He rubbed his eyes next, pushing the sleep out of them and gave a brief sigh. Then he got up. His hand touched the doorframe as he passed, fingers gliding down until he was far enough away he could no longer. Those same fingers ran along the wall, fumbled until he found the railing and then released as he made the final step onto the main floor. He went around the table much the same way he had every other day. He heard the scraping of chair legs from Sakura's preferred seat; she was adjusting and getting comfortable. Paper ran across skin; she was reading again.

He sat down.

"I made you a sandwich today." He could tell by the direction of her voice she hadn't looked up from her book. "And there's a glass of orange juice again to your left. But, if you want me to get you something besides that next time, let me know. I'll put on my list when I go to the market later in the week." He heard a page turn; after that the comfortable silence fell.

He moved his elbows to the table and allowed his forearms to rest side by side in front of him. Rather automatically, his head turned towards the open screened windows he knew to be to his left; they led out to the back yard. Vaguely, he could hear a bird singing… another bird.

"Itachi-san," Sakura began; her voice was even, normal, but, he could hear something else there. She wanted to say something. He turned his head back towards her, eyes set in the direction he assumed her face was.

There was a quiet pause; she was collecting her thoughts. A snap echoed in the stillness of the room; her book shut.

"I think it's safe to say, based on a few observations on my part, that you are uncomfortable with the idea of eating in front of anyone." She allowed her statement to settle, perhaps even to give him time to weigh her words.

He didn't reply.

"In fact, I'm positive the reason you walk around without a shirt on is to ensure you're not left with a mess… should one occur.

"The blind can't see what they can't feel."

He resisted the urge to show surprise at her conclusion; perceptive.

"You're probably wondering what I'm going to do about this, if anything. Honestly," she said with some inflection in her voice, "I could care less if you go your whole life not eating in front of anyone. I know you know how to; the hospital was required to teach you that before you were allowed to discharge.

"Also, I doubt you really have any problems. But," she did emphasize the word, "you Uchiha men are absolute perfectionists. I'm quite certain one crumb on your chest would constitute as a failure of some sort," she muttered, sounding a little aggravated. "So, if you would rather I get up and leave so you can scarf down that sandwich, then I will.

"Alright?"

He could do nothing but stare at her, even if he couldn't see her at all. It wouldn't look unusual to her; he could imagine her going back to her book, waiting for him. Yet, she didn't go back to her book; he could feel those green eyes (as he imagined them) staring at him questionably.

Haruno… Sakura… was something unusual. Unlike many of her generation, his, she didn't really flaunt herself or her abilities. She wasn't throwing it in his face that she'd come to any of these conclusions on her own; he hadn't really been hiding them, but, at the same time there were very few people that would have realized why he didn't wear a shirt aside from the obvious heat outside. It certainly wasn't done to impress anyone, as some of the female aids might have joked quietly to their friends; he couldn't even really recall what his own chest looked like. If he were a vain individual he was sure that would have bothered him, but, it didn't.

"Itachi-san?" she prompted.

"I would prefer to eat alone."

"Alright, well, before I do that I have a favor to ask you." There was a small thump on the table; the book. "I need to get a few things in town today, but, some of the shops are only open between twelve and four in the afternoon… the time I'm with you."

It didn't take much of a genius to figure out what she saw asking.

"I think it would be good for you; you need to get time out of the house. And, you need to get use to walking around Konoha again. At some point or another I'm not going to be here anymore; I'll have other duties to attend to and you'll have to take care of yourself—effectively. With that being said…" she murmured the last, sounding hesitant. Again, he was faced with the desire to see her face, her expressions. "You need to consider learning how to use a white cane. Or—."

"No."

She sighed. "Or… getting a seeing-eye dog."

He opened his mouth to reply, or started to anyway when he assumed she was going to argue the good points of learning how to use a white cane as his previous nurses had. But, then her next response stilled him.

"The Inuzuka clan specialize in breeding nin dog, as I'm sure you well know. What they also do is breed and train nin dogs specially for the blind, or, even retired blind shinobi. You're not the only one who's not fond of walking around poking everything in front of them with a stick," the last part was said with a little bit of humor in her voice.

"I would like to take a trip to the clan compound today; that is, if you're ok with going with me today." When he didn't say anything she stood up. "Think about it. In the meantime, I'll go on to the back porch and read so you can eat." He could hear her chair scraping back its place; her footsteps echoed; the sound of the back door opened… and then shut. He kept his head turned in that direction.

He'd come to the conclusion… that it was awfully hard to be so adverse to someone who was so perceptive. It was—therein—that much harder to want to be rid of someone who was so easy to get along with in the same space for an extended period time. For lack of a better word, he would at least admit he was… comfortable in her presence. She didn't chat on about things he didn't have much care for simply because he chose not to participate in the conversation. Nor, did she walk on eggshells around him, whether because of fear or because she felt sorry for him. No, she definitely didn't feel sorry for him; it wasn't that hard to tell. She certainly didn't revere him either; that had been one of the ongoing numerous problems he'd had with the others who'd come to care for him.

He wasn't a hero.

He supposed… while he wasn't willing to admit he was ok with anyone sticking around to babysit him… he could tolerate Haruno Sakura. She wasn't an idiot; something he was beginning to think was rare these days. Or maybe he really was too much of a hard ass on people. Probably the latter, he mused to himself.

Lucky her.

He gave a rueful sigh before eating his lunch and flushing it all down with the juice to his left. Then he got up and headed for the back door.

The rush of a summer breeze hit him, pushing his hair out of his face. The click of the door sounded behind him as he took a slight step backwards. A moment of hesitation hit him as he tried to feel her out, smell her… hear her. He turned his head, straining his ears slightly and flaring his nostrils only a little.

"I'm here," the voice called out to his right and below him. "I borrowed one of your chairs; they're pretty comfy for reading purposes."

He turned so his body faced her and tilted his head slightly downward from the direction of her voice.

"Done eating?"

He nodded.

"That's good. I hope my cooking isn't too below your preferences."

"It's satisfactory," he felt the need to tell her.

"Good to know. So," she started, a snap of paper against paper was decisive; her book again. "Are we going out or staying in?"

It was funny how this whole decision weighed on him. He fully believed if she wanted to force him out of the house to suit her needs she could find a way to do so. Threatening to immobilize him in a bed with an IV had worked fairly well the day before. It was a wholly odd sensation to be in control of something again, even if that something was as mundane as accompanying someone as they went shopping.

"Out," he murmured.

"That's good to hear. Do you need help picking out something descent to wear?"

He felt himself responding; his body barely tipped at doing so automatically, that, yes, he could and he didn't need her help… or for that matter anyone else's. Hesitation hit him and he thought. After a moment of consideration he said, "No… but…"

"Hm?" he heard.

"You'll be certain, I'm sure, not to allow me out the door looking like a lawn ornament."

He could almost see her smiling at him. "I wouldn't allow myself to go out with anyone looking like a lawn ornament, no."

He nodded, suppressing a smile as his back faced her assumed position.

Yes, perhaps Haruno Sakura was tolerable after all.

…

Her left arm was comfortably tucked into his, her free hand holding a bag at her side as they walked down the market strip. Vendors, both in open air tents and indoor shops, ran along either side of the street. People passed to either side of them; children lagged behind their parents and played along corners. A trove of half heard conversations buzzed in her ears; she heard snippets here and there simply because her training dictated that she should.

He was quiet next to her, but, she could see out of the corner of her eye that he was observing everything in his own way. A subtle inhale sounded every so often; a faint turn of the head was noted.

It was unspoken, but, humorous how he'd insisted—in his own silent way—that she take his arm rather than the way she'd originally intended. She didn't mind though; he was an inch or two taller than her… barely, if that; it made the position of her arm in his feel natural in relation to her shoulder. Whenever she needed to move in another direction she merely gave him a slight tug and he moved with her. Still, she wondered if he'd been worried about the sting to his masculinity at the possibility placing his arm in hers. She'd found it too endearing to begrudge him. Being on a team with two other boys did that to a girl, now woman.

Men.

It was also odd; she didn't want to compare him to his brother, but, he was a lot like Sasuke in many, many ways. Albeit a more mature, calm and by far an incredibly grounded Sasuke… but, the thought was noted all the same. She wondered, was it inherent, or, did Sasuke try to emulate his brother? Perhaps he had at one point; brothers did that.

He hadn't done a bad job of picking out his own clothes either. A richly dark blue shirt hung just past his waist and tied close to his form with a white, thin strip of a belt; it was sleeveless and showed off his strong shoulders. The neck had a soft v-cut. Beneath that was the thin chain-mesh armor all shinobi wrapped their bodies in. It wasn't too surprising to her he'd chosen black shinobi pants; the hem cut off halfway down his calf. He forwent the wrapping about the bare part of his legs, but, kept the black sandals. She'd had nothing bad to say about his selection, and, had questioned whether he knew the colors of what he was wearing; he had. Still, after a brief look in his closet and drawers she realized she was going to have to formulate a better way for him to know what he was putting on; not everything in his wardrobe was black and blue, nor was it all nin-wear.

The most oddly nostalgic thing about it all was seeing him with his hair tied back; it was longer, his bangs were, but, she somehow felt like he'd completed himself by doing so. When he'd asked her to fix it if it looked wrong she'd found herself hesitating. She wasn't really surprised or shocked so much as she was… a little confused for the pass of five seconds; surely the person who'd asked her for help wasn't the same one who'd attacked her in the kitchen two days ago.

She hadn't commented.

"Here, this way," Sakura spoke before she moved towards the overhang flap of a tented shop. Several birds chirped from both wooden and steel cages; lizards scattered in large glass jars with holes in the lids; several other critters snapped, barked and screeched at their entrance. She was happy to see the booth empty as she approached the small counter at the end of the short and narrow dirt pathway in; there was never much more room but to walk in a straight line into the tent and then out.

"Sanin-sama!" a bright, smiling and busty woman said from behind the counter. She had age lines on her face; laugh lines broke across her features as she grinned. Her plump figure, tucked tightly into a worn-with-love yukata, shook with laughter. "So good to see you again. Oh, and you've brought a friend!

"He certainly looks imposing."

Sakura returned the smile as she stopped at the counter and released Itachi's arm. "Nice to see you again, Keiko-san. You're as kind as always."

The older woman leaned onto the wooden flat top with an elbow, cheek in her palm. "You're trying to butter me up for another discount, aren't you, girl?"

"Is it working?" Sakura asked with mock curiosity.

Keiko barked laughter. "What do you need today, dearheart? Hm?"

"Same as always, but, add gecko skin to the order as well."

"Oh, you know, that stuff is better mixed into medicines fresh."

Sakura sighed. "Yes, well, you know how I am about that…"

The older woman snorted. "You're silly is what you are. Dried, frozen, fresh, it's all the same; I still have to kill the critters."

"Oh, I know…" she replied, shifting from one foot to the next; her hand went to her hip. "But, I always feel like an executioner if you make my order to go. There's just something unsettling about you taking a furry little… animal behind the tent and… well, yeah."

"You're a shinobi," the woman chuckled out.

Sakura frowned. "I didn't say it was rational."

"Good point, well, if you like you can come by the day before and place and order for fresh supplies; that way you're not present when the 'execution' occurs." She held her fingers up, doing air quotes as she said execution. There was a decisive smirk on her face as she did so.

Sakura rolled her eyes, smiling softly all the same. "I may do that." She waited patiently as Keiko gathered her purchases into a brown bag and rang them up. Itachi said nothing as the exchange went on; he hadn't through many of them.

"Goodbye, Keiko-san!"

"Have a good day, Sanin-sama!"

The sun was bright as they came out of the shadowed and cool tent. She had to lift the hand holding the bag; the strap slid to her elbow as she shaded her eyes. "Well, I think we have one more shop…"

"She called you Sanin-sama."

Green hues turned to look at glassy-grey orbs. A carefully hidden question in a statement; nice. "Since the war ended six months ago people have been calling us that." She shrugged. "I don't know who started it, but, the title seems to have developed into something generational. I imagine if Naruto, myself, or, Sasuke ever take serious apprentices they'll eventually inherit it as well.

"Tsunade thinks it's funny," she offered the information. "I wouldn't be surprised if she started the whole mess."

"You're discontented with it."

"I'm not unhappy, if that's what you mean," she replied, keeping her eyes on the road as they walked at a comfortable pace. "But, I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a hero either. I think that's really what people think of me; that I'm some sort of legend. I'm barely into my twenties."

"Compared to the farmer's child who picks potatoes you likely are."

"That's true," she conceded. "And in part because of that I realize while I may not be ready to accept it for myself, I can at least accept what other people choose to think about me."

"What's the other part?"

She smiled and looked over at him. She squeezed his arm and his head turned to her, unseeing eyes almost locked on her own. "I once read somewhere, 'Don't try to be a great man. Just be a man, and let history make its own judgments.'"

His brows rose only slightly at her statement and she laughed softly. "Granted, I may not be a man, but, I think the message still holds true."

A familiar shade of red caught her eye and she tilted her head in that direction just beyond him and to the left. "Oh, here we are," she said out loud as she pulled him gently towards a produce stand. This one was also covered by a tent, but it wasn't nearly as cramped or closed in as the other had been.

"Mia!"

"Haruno-san!"

Sakura smiled again as she greeted the violet-eyed and haired woman. She was only a year or two younger then the pinkette and just as easy to get along with. "How's business?"

"Good, good. It's hard to earn much when you're only in operation between noon and four in the afternoon, but," she shrugged, arms crossed over her chest behind a slanted counter of tomatoes, "you do what you do." She looked up at Itachi. "Who's your friend?"

"Itachi-san," Sakura replied as she glanced over at him and then back at Mia. "A colleague of mine. He's been kind enough to accompany me on daily run around town today." Sakura watched as she eyed the Uchiha curiously.

"Well, it's good to see you with someone," she replied. "The last one you brought by was a bit of a stick in the mud. He didn't seem fond of shopping."

Sakura chuckled. "Ah, yes… well… I guess some people aren't."

"Men," Mia emphasized, "generally never are. What about you Itachi-san? Do you enjoy shopping?"

His eyes were about as good in Mia's direction as he could manage, Sakura supposed. She watched him with slightly raised brows, wondering how he would reply.

"I am not entirely adverse to the act if certain conditions are met."

"And those are?" The corner of Mia's lips quirked and her brows rose considerably.

"I must be inclined to acquire something whether out of need or want."

"Is that all?"

He shook his head. "It also helps if the company is measured to be acceptable."

At this Mia laughed rather loudly. Her hand came up to cover her mouth and her eyes shut with mirth. Her body shook and her shoulders hunched slightly in the process. Eventually, she wiped her eyes, the spoils of humor creating an ache in her side. "I haven't laughed like that in a while, Itachi-san. You pass."

Sakura chuckled and Itachi raised a single brow.

"I'll explain later," she whispered with a smile. "Mia, I'll take two tomatoes, three cucumbers, a bag of your mixed fruit bundle… and…" Sakura trailed on as she eyed the many fruits and veggies. She tapped her chin. "Two red onions and a diakon."

"No problem. Let me gather and weigh it all so I can give you your total."

"Sure thing." Sakura watched as the violet-eyed woman moved back and forth on her side of the booth, gathering and measuring at a station on the other side; she jotted things down on a pad.

"Why is she only open between noon and four?"

Sakura pulled her gaze away from Mia and looked at Itachi who was still to her left. "Well… her mother works mornings and evenings, so, there's no one to take care of her retired grandparents. They don't make enough money with the stand to have Mia here to keep it open all day and her mother not working."

"Then why do you go out of your way to buy from them at such odd hours?"

Sakura smiled. "That's fairly easy to answer. Mia's family has the best vegetables and fruit. I have a sneaky suspicion it has to do with little agreement she has with Tenzou-sempai. I can't blame them though; they need an extra edge to compete with everyone else in the strip."

"Here's you are, Haruno-san." She handed her the bag and listed off the total. "Thank you," she replied as Sakura handed her the ryo.

Sakura stuff the plastic bag into the cloth one on her arm. "See you next week, Mia-san."

"Same to you, Haruno-san. Hope to see you again, Itachi-san."

Sakura gave a final wave as she moved to step out of the tent, her arm hooked through Itachi's right arm. "Alright, well, now we can head to—."

"Sakura-chan!"

Naruto.

Jade green hues turned to her and Itachi's left and she moved with him to face the blond. A smile almost began to form at his arrival that was, until she saw Sasuke. She would give herself credit though; she didn't frown, and, somehow she found a way to create a soft, fictional smile.

This was going to be interesting.

"Sasuke's with him," she whispered when the blonde was halfway to them. She felt the older male stiffen. "Do... do you want me to try and make an excuse to go?"

"No… it's fine." It didn't sound fine, but, she wasn't going to argue.

Naruto had his fingers locked behind his head; on his face was a grin so broad his teeth showed and his eyes shut. When he stopped in front of her he dropped his hands to his side and slackened his smile. He eyed the bag in her hand and looked back up at her face. "Shopping again?"

Sakura glanced in the direction of his gaze and then back up at him. "I needed a few more things. So, yes."

He scratched the back of his head, looking a little foxy as he contemplated. "Man… that's all you do now, Sakura-chan."

She merely smiled in response.

And then he blinked at her, glancing between her and Itachi. His blue orbs settled on her arm where it was joined in Itachi's. "Um… Sakura-chan…"

"Yes?"

He frowned, looking more perplexed than sad. "Are… are you on a date with Itachi-san?"

It wasn't too often the blonde caught her off guard; if it weren't for the fact that his question completely lacked couth and he'd obviously forgotten about the conversation at the restaurant yesterday, well, she'd be impressed. "No, I'm not."

"Then… why…?" he spoke while indicating with his finger at their linked arms.

A long silence passed on and Sakura found her gaze traveling towards Sasuke. She wasn't really sure how to explain it; somehow doing so felt rude and disrespectful to the man next to her. Why did Naruto have to be so dimwitted sometimes?

Sasuke's eyes were not on Naruto, or her for that matter. Instead, she found him quietly looking at his brother. It was difficult to read what was laden there; a mix of many unnamed emotions swam together.

"I really don't understand," Naruto went on, scratching the back of his head again as he looked at their linked arms.

Sasuke, finally though, did look at her; his abyssal hues locked on her own briefly before slowly turning to Naruto. "Idiot," he muttered darkly in a tone he only used on Naruto; it was meant to be both good natured and aggravated in sound at the same time.

"What?"

Sasuke sighed and reached over; rather suddenly, he took hold of the back of the blonde's head and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"Ow! Sasuke! What the hell, bastard?"

Without explaining his actions he jerked Naruto's head in direction of his brother's eyes. "He's blind, you idiot," his voice was almost seething, much to Sakura's surprise.

She found her depths widening and her body jumping just barely; it wouldn't have been enough for anyone to notice but perhaps the man next to her simply because she was attached to him.

"Oh…" Naruto replied soundlessly as the wheels in his head began to turn.

Sasuke released him, looking a little disgruntled. His gaze shifted back to Sakura as his eyes opened. The look said it all without really saying anything: I'm sorry.

Naruto rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly and muttering a few incoherent sounds. His blue orbs drew back to Sakura after giving Sasuke a look. "Heh…" he muttered, sarcastic grin on his face. "And here I thought you'd found someone better after you'd been shacked up with this bastard for a month and a half." He jutted a thumb in Sasuke's direction.

Sakura, despite herself, smiled again; it was faint. "That was a while ago, Naruto."

"Feh," he bit off jokingly, "you were still head over heels. It almost feels like a waste, bringing him back for you."

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"We came back together, Naruto," Sakura confirmed, but not really arguing with him. "But, anyway, what are you up to today?" She needed a subject change, if not for herself than at least for the younger Uchiha.

"Training," he replied as if there was nothing else to do besides eat ramen and train during the daylight hours.

"How did you date with Hinata go last night?"

His eyes brightened at that and it didn't take long for her comrade to go off on a long tangent-ridden story about his time with Hinata. All the while, the pinkette kept the corner of her vision on the two Uchiha men. Internally, she frowned; while Itachi couldn't see anything it appeared as though he were almost trying to look beyond his brother. Sasuke wasn't doing much different; he wasn't even really staring at him; more so, at his chest. A good ten minute period dragged on with Naruto giving her every detail he recalled of his time with the Hyuuga heiress before Sakura finally interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, but, I have a few more things to do today with Itachi-san. Maybe you can tell me the rest later over ramen?"

"Sounds good, Sakura-chan."

"Come on, dropout," Sasuke muttered as he went around him and took hold of his shirt, all but dragging him away.

Sakura chuckled as Naruto cursed at him even after their teammate let him go; she watched over her shoulder until they disappeared in the crowd. She turned around and looked at her charge.

"Well?"

"There is another place you've planned to visit today?"

"There is."

"Then it would seem as though we are wasting time standing here."

She smiled and then continued on in much the same direction they'd been going in before. It could have been worse, she supposed.

As they walked along the seemingly neverending market strip Sakura noted the sun in the distance; faded oranges, pinks and red dance across the sky and what light was left peaking over the larger buildings. She imagined by now it was nearing late afternoon… perhaps four or five? Had that much time really passed on? She hadn't had that much shopping to do, had she? Perhaps Naruto was right; she needed to quit her apparently unsuspecting habit.

Thankfully, Hana kept late evening hours and would likely still be about when she and Itachi made their appearance.

Green hues glanced around at the crowd, noting the change in numbers. Distinctly, she could pick out more and more headbands. Children, done at the Academy, were finally trailing home; the main market strip lead in all varying directs from the Hokage tower and from the Academy, so it wasn't entirely surprising. Many shinobi purchased things they needed from the market on their way home from missions or other duties.

However… what was beginning to become apparent to her… were the stares. Sakura was use to it; people knew her—shinobi did. Civilians who had shinobi family members, ones who were directly involved with shinobi in general for one matter or another, knew her, or, of her. Although… they weren't just staring at her… they were staring at him.

Keen, well trained ears picked up words… sentences, around her. Much of it, a lot of it, was what someone would consider good. Very little of it was bad; a lot of that was just snippets of rumors, and, even then people were quick to douse it out. If Sakura had to label it anything… she might call it… hero worship.

Sakura felt stiffening muscle under her arm; it had been gradual and she'd only just then recognized it. A faint chakra flared next to her and she looked over, bright hues half hooded in scrutiny and she took in Itachi's face. He made no expression; nothing about his lips or his eyes… nothing indicated he was bothered. The flaring chakra was so faint she positive she was the only one who noticed it.

But why…

Something snapped in her mind; a conversation from earlier, from her own mouth, rushed back at her and she understood. A soft sigh was released through the passage of her nostrils and she closed her eyes; her head turned to the road ahead.

"Just be man," she murmured only loud enough for him to hear, eyes opening once again. She felt herself repressing a smile when, after a short moment, the muscles in his arms relaxed… his eyes shut… and faintly, the corner of his lips…

…curled.

AN :: Drum roll please! And the answer was…! Lady Hawke! Whoohoo! To those select few who got it right, awesome job. Let me just tell all of you who have never basked in the glory that is Lady Hawke, go buy it now; rent it, watch it, steal it from a friend. But, seriously, do it. It's a great movie.

This chapter was neither awful, nor was it a trial to write. I was lucky enough to have the beginning really flow. I give huge kudos to this to Zeptha, my pseudo-beta. I told him you guys love seeing everything from Itachi's perspective as much as possible, and, I asked him whose it should be for in the opening for the scene I had in mind. So, you can thank him; that why we got into Weasel-kun's head a wee bit.

And with that… yeah, I think that's it. Oh, no! One more question! What breed of nin dog do you think I'll gift Itachi? I already know, but, I have such fun reading your reviews guessing.

—Blade