Hi guys. This might be the last chapter for this story, or chapter that I ever write. I will not delete my stories, but I'm most likely to stop writing at all. Thanks for sticking with me so far, but I just don't think I'm up to these things anymore with my skills.

Chapter Six: Intrigue

„I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe."– Tahereh Mafi, Shatter me

It was not any sort of collision left to the works of gravity; it was a faint, insecure graze, a last barrier to be torn so that the unknown would be in grasp.

The skin of one's lips is the most sensitive of all, so they said; and it was no lie that when, in their curiosity, their mouths touched for a second, he scared, retreated an inch and the sensation hadn't been entirely to die for, it was the emotion, the thought, the realisation of a connection that caused tachycardia to those pure, unwitting young souls.

The boy steadied the pressure in his feet, found a new centre of gravity and he waited, as though he was an easily frightened animal that sought affection, a stray cat that wanted a genuine caress, someone to cradle him in his arms.

And Sasuke prayed that she'd retreat as well, give up, leave him to recollect his shredded sanity. But she didn't.

Sakura pushed onto the very tip of her toes for additional height and her lips were more decisive that they were; the two of them sloppily tip-toed around the newly found connection, and it was an unknown sensation, a few more seconds and a few more attempts to make use of their clueless hands, and it finally clicked.

It was a taste, a harmonic motion, and the key opened the lock, smoothly. Hands of a man leapt to her waist, trapped her there – not too strongly, not too inappropriate. Silk dipped fingers traced along his neck, and she settled onto his jaw, reluctantly grasped his hair.

It was an innocent gesture still, and their hearts galloped, minds jumping around the idea of a kiss. For a fraction of a moment, they split, confused, and her eyes, her strong, always determined eyes wavered; it was as though the everlasting spring of her soul glimmered in transition for summer, and warm crept from inside out.

They did not pause for long.

It was sloppy, and maybe repulsive, but it was needed, it was sought, it was a drug that would ensure them happiness, a drug they would only find by fervently pushing one into the other. Distance was overrated; in fact, it was suffocating. Distance was not in the least needed.

His arms snaked around her back, caged her petite form into his and it still wasn't enough; close, closer, yet closer. She found joy, exaltation in pulling onto those hairs of his. Their mouths collided onto each other, a war of pressure, fought with passion. Were they trying to synchronize with the other, perhaps they found that one spot?

It was a mess, their minds were a mess, and they could only feel the presence of the other, and when his feet unconsciously stepped forward, let his head bent downwards, her head did the opposite; and she was cradled there in his arms, and he didn't know what he was doing.

Somewhere, in the deep, deep end of his clouded consciousness he acknowledged a soothing sensation on his lower abdomen, as though his skin was rebuilding itself from scratch, and he felt more and more energy roll up his arms, he was drinking the elixir of life with his lips.

But all that was of the littlest importance, there was only her.

As he kissed her breathless, there was only her, and she was not fragile, he was not despicable and they broke every single barrier, he thought.

She felt it wasn't enough, love, her mind exclaimed in a moment of inhalation, and both her lips nibbled on his lower one, she didn't know what she was looking for, she couldn't keep up, couldn't count every single extra beat her heart deciding to have, and it was no winter.

She melted there in his arms, melted into him and even though she was advancing and him mimicking every move of hers, she felt that remaining there wouldn't hurt at all, and she felt crowned queen of his existence.

They didn't know of anything but for each other, each other's scent, breathing, and they were no longer shyly caressing their lips, it was forceful, and loving, and it didn't matter that she was being drained of energy, nor that he was getting stronger and stronger by the moment.

Until they broke the kiss once more to fill their lungs for one more act of affection, and she was panting, gasping for air. He bent his head, searched for her mouth with his, and in his itinerary stumbled upon her chin, his exhalation stung her lips with tiny needles of excitement, and his breathing was hot. He smelled… what did he smell like?

And when his hand cupped her cheek, kissed her once more, both of them wondered when and where did he learn to do that, to sync with her like that; they hadn't been kissed before, so why was it that they found an equilibrium in their motions so easily? His teeth grazed her lips and pulled, even if for a millimetre, but she felt it, he mimicked her forceless nibble; and she replied with a stronger thrust of her mouth…

And despite the fever, the turmoil, the desperation for proximity, she gasped, exhaustion marking her features and they parted shortly, and she fought to regain her breath.

"Hah," it almost sounded like a moan, and even if Sasuke didn't know better, he would've thought of it to be just that.

Water was splashed onto his face, and he awakened to reality; how much had he just stolen from her, what little energy she must've had left… His feet retreated reluctantly a bit, and he created a bigger, yet still thin distance between their chests; she felt it.

"You're tired." Was it a statement, was it a question, a complaint, the Uchiha didn't know.

"N-no, I'm fine…" she let out, but she felt so faint, that without his secure grip on her waist she would've collapsed.

His heart stung with hatred, he despised his own self for what he'd done, how could he lose control like that? Was it his power of restraint that transparent? He held onto her, but adopted a safer distance, offered her room to breathe, and he averted his eyes.

"You need to rest, you did enough."

She felt rejected, but she did not feel not cared for; his words had just turned harsh, but her mind tended to believe it was only out of concern. However, his hold onto her body became an attempt to steady her on her feet, and when he eventually let go, she felt void.

"I said I'm fine, you're not healed yet…" her words came out slow and almost hard to decipher.

Her posture wasn't clean, and she felt her vision a tiny bit blurry; to be truthful, she had felt as though she had been drained of life while being kissed, but it was subdued by his presence, the connection that she was sure both of them felt, the act in itself.

No wonder lovers kiss all the time, she thought.

And then, after seating her on the bed, Sasuke began unwrapping his bandages and she only watched, too tired to ponder on his actions or to prevent him from leaving his wound out in the open. Once his chest became fully bare, her eyes widened a little; there was only a faint scar of what used to be the ugliest wound Sakura had seen in her entire life.

Despite the fact that a future kiss was now dismissed, and despite the fact that her passionate Uchiha had dissipated into a colder, non-sentimental one that said she should sleep, the Haruno's mouth let an 'I'm so glad' escape out of it, and her lids grew heavier. Pressing down her shoulders, he laid her onto his bed, covered het with a blanket and exited the room as a safety measure.

"I'll, uh, catch up with you guys later!" he waved at them, and the blond girl scoffed, shaking her head in deep disapproval.

"First Sakura, and now you?!"

Naruto didn't really regret leaving his classmates by the shrine, and he didn't regret not having prayed for anything. He tagged along only because his precious pinkette had asked him to, and for some reason, he wasn't in the mood to really socialize. The last dialogue he had with Sasuke before constantly being avoided replayed in his mind, and it wasn't like he regretted his words – he simply wanted that idiot to come back to his senses.

So, when he received a call from a peculiar person on the way home, he was instantly convinced that he had made the right decision in ditching the group.

"Attacked?! What do you mean, Itachi?!" his loud voice echoed in the open, empty street.

His pace quickened.

When the boy descended to the kitchen, in desperate need of some water to moist his dried mouth, and to wash away the taste she'd left there, his mother blinked in surprise, but wasted no time to pull him into a tight hug.

"You had me worried sick, Sasuke." Her voice came out soft and weak, and she lifted herself onto her tiptoes, planting a motherly kiss on his forehead.

And then, she noticed the obvious; there were no bandages covering his wounded chest anymore, nor was there any wound at all – only a faint reminiscent shadow. She let out a confused 'oh' and her fingers traced along his calloused skin, before he retreated in embarrassment.

"How did that happen?" she asked, but her mature mind sketched a rather accurate scenario.

His hand grabbed hold of an empty glass and, seemingly ignorant to her question, filled it with water before it was poured rapidly down his dry throat. His back strengthened manly, hands supporting the weight of his core and he used the window as a pretext; whatever could he see out there, in the dark kohl of a night, Mikoto was unsure. What she was sure of was that he was avoiding her question, and much to the dismay of her motherly giddiness, she retreated, placed one last plate into the cupboard below.

The silence soon grew awkward, and whilst Sasuke prayed that she didn't inquire further, the mother only wandered what he must've been feeling, what must have been on his chaotic mind. She turned to face him, a more serious expression she wore.

"Your father wants to talk to you," her palm briefly caressed his shoulder as though to show him the way to the living room, "Sakura has already more or less explained the situation, but we want to hear it from you too."

He fell into thought; due to obvious reasons, he would have preferred not thinking about the events of the early night, neurons burning in synapses as he unwillingly recalled every ounce of adrenaline that sped through his veins, but he wasn't to be spared apparently. Do what you must, he thought with a deep sigh.

But first, a shirt; his mother becoming aware of what transpired between him and the supposedly asleep pinkette was embarrassing as it was, but his father, on the other hand, was on a whole other level. And just when he turned on his heel, his brother beat him to it, beat his attempt of sneaking upstairs and grabbing a shirt unseen.

The older scanned his seemingly video-paused brother, genuine worry dissipating into a subtle smirk. Itachi only passed by him, opened the fridge and just when Sasuke thought he was let off, heat crept into his cheeks.

"Take it easy on the cherries."

His first step out of the kitchen was loud, but not loud enough to cover his muffled words.

"…Shut up."

Up the stairs he went and he suddenly found himself before a fork in the road of choices; should he open the door, he'd be met with the sight of her and guilt would spread through his blood like the liquid of a syringe, and should he not, he couldn't meet his father, heck, he couldn't even have a conversation with his brother – Annoying, he thought in irritation.

But he opened the door anyway.

The room was dimly, so dimly, lit by the street lights that he could barely make out the outline of his bed, but he knew she was there, fast asleep; her breathing was soft and rhythmical, a calming sound to his ears. He reached for his phone that had been left on his desk (even though he had no recollection of placing it there) and with his finger pressed onto its flashlight so that it wouldn't wake her up, the boy strolled to his wardrobe. There however he stopped into place and made the worst decision of the entire night – he turned to look at her.

The Haruno was sprawled onto the surface of his bed, blanket still half-covering her, and she looked serene, with her pigmented, full lips. In her sleeping motion, he assumed, she caused the fabric of his old T-shirt to roll upwards and he could clearly notice the pale skin of her waist, her toned belly, all topped with a glimpse of her panties; there was no way his clothes would fit her foolproof.

Idiot, he cursed someone, himself or the roseate, it was unimportant. Sasuke proceeded with determination and exited the room, hand clasped on a random shirt.

Downstairs, Uchiha Fugaku was waiting on the couch, eyes focused somewhere that the son couldn't reach, and he was deep in thought. However, he rapidly became aware of the presence of his child, and he nodded. The boy, on the other hand, wasn't as eager and collected, refusing the unspoken invitation to sit down.

"Father," he began, mouth dry.

And Fugaku did not waste a second, eyes darkened with concern.

"How are you feeling?"

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair.

"I'll live."

He concluded that he could no longer maintain his act, no longer could tiptoe around the shit-never-happened area, and he appreciated the silence his father offered, it aided him in collecting his thoughts.

But it didn't last for long as, with a loud thud, the main door of their mansion burst open and it alarmed them for seconds, seconds during which Fugaku stood himself and they both tensed in unison…

"SASUKEEEEE!"

Only to sigh annoyingly.

Why didn't I expect this, Sasuke thought and he chuckled tiredly.

"You're late to the party, dobe."

Uzumaki Naruto was wearing the most desperate-worried-sick-angered-anxious expression the raven haired had ever seen his best friend wear, and with a bored gesture of the hand, he suggested that nothing was wrong anymore. The former, however, sucking in all of the air in his proximity, began to yell loudly.

"WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? YOU'RE ACTING LIKE YOU WEREN'T ATTACKED, AND OH GOD – " he paused to catch his breath once more, "Where the hell is Sakura-chan?!"

Sasuke, irritated beyond thought, strolled seemingly casually towards his friend, causing him confusion; "Sasuke, what are you – " and the blond's head ducked under the pressure of the former's fist.

Hands massaging the hurt area, he sprung upwards furiously and nearly thrown himself at the Uchiha.

"What's wrong with you-ttebayo?!" he spat.

"What's wrong with you, idiot!" he hissed in return. "Don't you know how to knock? And more than that, you come in here and yell like a hormonal cock!" desperately annoyed by his friend, the boy eyed the stairs, "Someone might be sleeping in here, and maybe the entire neighbourhood."

Naruto wasn't calmed the least bit; thus, he turned to the silent father, and targeted his worries for the pinkette to him. Fugaku only sighed, and his expression soothed the blond.

"She's alright. Sleeping," his dark eyes held his son's, "I suppose?"

A nod.

The Uzumaki exhaled in relief, and he visibly calmed himself.

"Sorry for being so loud, Fugaku ojii-chan."

A few seconds later, Naruto was sat on the sofa, arms crossed on his chest; Answers, now! his face spoke. And then, Sasuke wondered on how that annoying ball of yellow fur found out about what had gone down.

"Weren't you supposed to be at the shrine?" he commented.

A flap of the hand, and the unimportant to the Uzumaki matter was cast aside.

"Screw the shrine! Itachi called me."

As expected, Sasuke thought. However, he proceeded – he briefly explained how Sakura had come by their house and asked him to join her, and thus they went along.

"5 minutes or so away from the meeting place, I notice something weird."

Itachi and Mikoto had also joined in during his explanation.

"There was no wind, but it blew right in my face. We were cautious in any case, but when I used the sharingan to see through the dark, there were two silhouettes, a man and a woman."

Fugaku's small, contemplative nods ensured the others that he was trying to make sense out of every single detail, out of every explanatory sentence. So did Itachi.

"Sakura said they were from our school," and he narrowed his eyes, "Transfer students from Suna, I think. Temari and … Kankurou," he recalled unsurely, "I don't know what kind of ability he had, but she could manipulate the air, atmosphere, she even tried to strangle Sakura with it."

At the mention of the word strangle and the name of one of his most precious persons, Naruto's stomach twisted, nausea warning him about the anger and disgust that would pile in his chest. His fist was clenched, and he forced himself to keep listening.

"Sakura didn't get to tell us how you two got injured," Itachi cut in, purely intrigued.

That, however, caused Sasuke to nearly choke for air in his disappointment towards his own actions; it was because he let out of his sight that she got wounded, that that sick bastard slit her wrist.

"It was my fault." Words were truly alike knives, and he couldn't raise his head.

"Teme." Naruto encouraged, even in his most disturbed moments he wouldn't believe his best friend to be the actual cause of her pain, not hers.

"I let her out of my sight, and fought the woman."

Mikoto leaned in closer and massaged his shoulders endearingly. As he explained how Temari had rather clean, chiselled fighting skills, the mother caressed his forehead, pulling his bangs aside while doing so.

"They weren't that strong, but they knew how to fight. She also knew how to make use of her ability." The boy cleared his throat before continuing, "I focused on her, and that …"

His blood boiled in his veins, threatening to burst through his skin, and the turmoil he was feeling anticipated a gruesome reveal.

"That damned piece of shit cut her wrist, she …" Sasuke was forcing his sanity to not leave his mind, "She had no chance against someone with physical power like ours."

Teeth gritted against each other.

"I tried to save her, and then the woman cut me, my chest."

Naruto felt his heart throb painfully, organ trapped in his core and he was burning, he was furious beyond expectation; it was even worse than when Sasori attempted to rape the Haruno, both of his best friends were wounded and he had no idea. While they were struggling for their lives, he might as well have been quarrelling with Kiba about whatever trivial thing.

"At some point then, I snapped," Sasuke let out, surprised at the memory of his outburst, but even more surprised at the impact of it, "I slammed her into the ground. I didn't know that such brutal strength existed."

But for his intermittent recollection, silence enveloped the room.

"I tried to fight the guy, but, in the end, Sakura stabbed him in the back."

And then, it was no longer curiosity that reigned over the other 3, and Sasuke became aware of the gravity, the true meaning of his words, only when he noticed he was being stared at.

"S-Sakura-chan did?!" the words escaped Naruto's mouth in pure astonishment, and he blinked once, twice, until he made sense out of the situation.

"I see." Fugaku spoke at last, and his tone was opaque, unreadable. Anyhow, if not anything else, it seemed saddening.

"So even people from Suna know of her."

Silence once again reigned, and it was internal chaos, panic, fear, until he spoke again.

"This is a dangerous battle."

Was his tone distant, unaffected? Was he letting go of the matter? While it only fuelled the fire in Sasuke's heart, Naruto wouldn't have any of it.

He was stood up before anyone could think of anything.

"We're not letting her die! We're all going to protect Sakura-chan!" it was not determination coating his words as much as it was resentment, a threat.

He slammed the wall parallel to him and his words resonated in the mind of the youngest Uchiha son, their thoughts were synchronized.

"Fugaku ojii-chan, Mikoto oba-chan… Oka-chan and otou-chan… You ALL owe it to us! You forced us to deal with all this crap without any warning, and now you make it sound like we're just going to let them have her?!"

It was no longer a loud discourse, nor a yell; it was a scream, raging beast being set free.

"I DON'T FREAKING CARE ABOUT YOUR FEARS!"

The Uzumaki turned his back to the others.

"I won't forgive anyone that thinks it's okay to not risk for those who're precious to you!"

With a loud thud on his chest, the blond shut his eyes tight.

"I will protect Sakura-chan at all costs!" his words struck a chord in Sasuke's heart, and for no apparent reason, he felt like chuckling, ironically.

He, however, was given determination when his loud, idiotic friend turned once more, and cerulean blending into charcoal, the Uchiha smirked.

"Sasuke!"

One step closer, "Aa," and Itachi took pride in his brother, "She's not going to die on me."

Sakura awoke on a field of bloomed flowers, grass green and luscious at its peak of life, and the distant chirping of birds echoed in her ears strangely, and she didn't ponder on where she was found.

Somehow, it was the most natural thing for her to be lying in the middle of nature, to bathe in the rejuvenating sunlight, to soak in the scent of wild flowers, raw, and she felt happy.

The world was enormous around her, and she felt all sorts of unknown, irrational happiness and she was expectant; she was giddily waiting for some companion, whom she had a vague idea about.

When she stood herself, she felt trapped, but not really – she was free to move, and she was moving, walking towards some place that she knew she was supposed to be at, but she didn't quite feel it was what she wanted to do, or that she had any say in what that suddenly smaller body of hers was doing.

It felt as though she was herself, but not herself. And then she heard someone, someone she knew and loved call out…

A name.

A name she hadn't heard before, but somewhere deep in her heart knew it was hers.

And she headed towards the source of the voice, towards the light with pure love radiating on her face, and …

She woke up, drenched in cold sweat, wearing Uchiha Sasuke's clothes, and seemingly lying in his bed as well. Her body shifted, and as she lay on her side her eyes searched fervently for a pillar of support, some incontestable proof that she was awake, and she suddenly sprung upwards and tripped on the floor.

The pain stung her feet and her elbow, but she stood herself up and hurried for his bathroom – which was conveniently close and conveniently unoccupied; she crashed next to his toilet and vomit rushed out of her throat. As the last bit of adrenaline rush dried out with the last thrust of her back, and the last nearly transparent liquid dripped out of her mouth. Then, and only then, she felt truly awake and she heard the creak of the door behind her.

Scared, but mostly startled, she turned around and took in the sight of Uchiha Sasuke, sight that was entirely calming; she breathed out in an attempt to loosen the tension in her heart, and his irises glimmered with worry. He closed the distance between the two and bent next to her, cautiously keeping himself away.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?"

The Haruno contemplated, and she really could not pinpoint a cause for her sudden nausea, she couldn't blame her adrenaline rush on nothing other than a bad dream – answer that confused the black haired boy, whom offered her a hand to stand her up.

"A nightmare?" his words were reserved, and as bits and bits of chaotic memories burnt in her brain, she knew he thought she had dreamt about the previous night.

But she didn't. And it wasn't even a bad dream, it was … peculiar, and real, and strange. And Sakura only wished that she didn't go through that again.

Sasuke let the way downstairs, briefly informing her that his mother had let her mother know she had spent the night at their place, excuse that wasn't unusual given how close these 3 were. The Uchiha also mentioned that it was almost noon, and his swollen, 'puffy' eyes indicated that he hadn't slept a bit, realisation that guilt-tripped her.

"Naruto's here too," she reacted to the sound of his name, "He burst here in the middle of the night, yelling like drugged idiot."

"Does…" the pinkette felt somewhat reluctant about entering the kitchen, "Does he know?"

"Everything, yes," he slid the door open, allowing her to walk in and join the other Uchiha's and, apparently, Uzumaki's, for breakfast, "We already told him."

But she couldn't take more than a couple steps inside the bright room as Uzumaki Kushina threw herself at her and made sure there was no air left in her chest with her deathly hug. When she released the roseate, the relieved expression on her face was undeniable.

"Sakura-chan, thank God you're alright!"

In the background, Uzumaki Minato smiled gently, implying that he was on par with his wife; and the Haruno was thankful for their concern. She offered a smile back, and accepted Mikoto's unspoken invitation to sit herself at the table. There, however, she felt uncomfortable for some reason – reason that would become easy to comprehend if you watched Uchiha Fugaku's expressions shift.

Itachi, on the other hand, was supportive; he did not berate her existence with his glare, nor did he oppose Naruto and Sasuke's determination to protect their cherry blossom; he stood for what his brother believed in if it was for the good, and it was.

"Here," The Uchiha matriarch slid a plate in front of her, the warm and stress-relieving scent of fresh food tickling her nostrils and causing her distressed stomach to rejoice after his puking session.

"Thank you."

A few minutes later, Naruto walked into the room, seemingly returning from the bathroom; Sakura noticed, his eyes also looked tired – just what had been going on while she was fast asleep, recovering from her very first kiss, that drained her of her last bits of post-trauma energy?

Wait…

Kiss?

And her cheeks reddened, and she hoped she wasn't as noticeable as she thought herself to be. The blond, however, had his eyes set on her the very first moment he entered the room.

"Sakura-chan!" his loud voice cut through the room and he stormed to the end of the table she was seated at, and forcefully, yet caringly, stood her up into a hug.

And she hugged back; that big, immature goofball…

"Naruto… I'm alright." She softly spoke back whilst releasing herself.

Despite allowing her to sit back at the table, he caught her bandaged wrist and looked at it, clearly disturbed by the sight of it; and she could tell, she could tell he knew what sort of wound lay underneath the dirtied bandages. His exhalation sounded more like a sigh, but he retreated, and seated himself.

"Sakura," Minato began, eyes focused on her, "We've talked about what happened last night."

A nod.

"However, we can't talk this through without you. Sasuke here said that you knew who the attackers were."

She swallowed the bits of food that she managed to bite on, and nodded once more.

"They're transfer students from our school, Temari and Kankurou from Suna."

And much to her dismay, the caring Sasuke had dissipated since she entered the room, as his words were blank, his tone cold, "That much we knew."

"Sasuke." Mikoto pushed.

The Haruno fell into thought and she fought to recall as many details about the two as she could; she had never interacted with any of them, but she knew about them, saw them around the school…

And she pieced the puzzle together, saw the bigger picture.

"They've been planning this for a while, I think."

Be it elder, be it young, they were all listening to her.

"At school, during lunch, I would always notice them close to Ino and I in the cafeteria, or if we ate in the classroom… Temari would almost all of the time be there. They're reserved, and barely chat with anyone else, but I've seen them a lot. When I leave the clubroom, when I go to practice, during day duty… I've unconsciously seen them a lot around the school."

After a few moments of silence and contemplation, Fugaku's brows furrowed into a deep thrown, and he spoke.

"How could they know you were going to be there last night?"

It was Sakura's turn to frown, and she thought; she really pondered on the arisen problem, and she traced back to her conversations with Yamanaka Ino, trying to find anything useful, anything worth reporting. There was this tiny thing bothering her in the equation …

"Maybe…" she began, unsure of what she wanted to say, "Maybe they overheard us when Ino invited someone to join us, back after the closing ceremony at school. We asked Hyuuga Hinata to tag along, and she, Temari, could have overheard us."

Restless, Naruto berated himself.

"I should have come to pick you up, Sakura-chan…"

She smiled kindly at him, she'd always known how much he cared, how devoted this blond idiot was to those he held dear, and she appreciated it. But he was in no way guilty.

"Naruto, please. This is none of your fault."

On the other end of the table, Sasuke's muscles tensed, but, much to his relief, no one noticed.

"But it's not okay-ttebayo! Look what's happened!" his voice grew louder, and he was obviously frustrated.

Sakura, on the other hand, couldn't help her tense, hardened chest.

"As much as it makes me happy, I can't impose myself on you all of the time. I can't let you risk yourselves for me this much…" but the pinkette couldn't finish her sentence steadily, as she felt herself being glared at, and she'd figured out it was Uchiha Fugaku that was frustrated over some thing.

"We have come to an agreement," he spoke at last, easily catching the attention of everyone present in that kitchen, and apart from the Haruno, they all knew what his next words would be.

"We are going to offer you our protection, every one of us. Until your birthday, that is."

Saying Kushina seated herself on the sofa was a complete understatement; the woman forcefully slammed her entire body on the comfy piece of furniture and she lay there, watching as her husband watched every sort of organic movements outside the window of their living room.

"Our son is going to hurt a lot," she trailed off tiredly, arm placed onto her forehead, and she stared at the ceiling, "He's going to have to go through a lot."

As a response, she could only hear Minato's deep breaths, and he walked closer to her, seemingly in thought. The redhead stretched out her arm and he held her hand, held onto it lovingly as he also sat himself on the couch. With slow, gentle motions, he caressed her head, and played with that flaming hair of hers that he loved so much.

"Our son will have to endure a lot." He breathed out.

She nodded, absent-mindedly.

"But as his father," and Kushina eyed him again, "I'll do whatever I can, so – "

The wife shifted on her side, cradling her head onto his lap, and leant onto his touch.

"I think we should call her."

Minato's words echoed within her ears, and she smiled, a tired kind of smile.

"As his mother, that's what I thought too."

Now that's it for this chapter folks! Since we've had almost only SasuSaku interactions for the last chapter, I figured we should have, apart from the kiss we've all been waiting for, some other things to focus on.

/Ella