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Chapter Seven: Apples
Sound, One Week Prior
"Where is the Land of Stone, anyway?"
"It's like…three hundred or three hundred and fifty miles to the – well…uh…Karin, do you remember?"
"North? I think. Or maybe it was west…I'm not entirely sure…or maybe we're supposed to go north for two hundred miles and then turn west?"
In unison, Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin all turned to Sasuke, giving him blank looks, and he stifled the urge to groan exasperatedly. They had just crossed Sound's external border, and still, he couldn't control the anxious drumbeat of his heart. This was the first time he had stepped outside Sound since he and Sakura had first gone there, three years ago – and it was the moment he had dreamed of for years.
He stretched his chakra to the limits, glancing back and forth through the snow-covered forest, glaring at every blankly empty space. It had been too long since he had been in contact with Itachi's chakra signature, but there were some things that he could never really forget.
"Hello? Sasuke?"
Sasuke turned around sharply, to find Suigetsu waving a hand in front of his face, and he cringed back, narrowing his eyes at the former Mist-nin. "What?"
"You looked a little preoccupied," Jugo commented in his usual calm, pleasant way.
Only Karin remained silent, placing one hand on her hip and giving him an unusually perceptive look, sharp red eyes scanning over his features. At last, she sighed, shaking her head disgustedly. "I don't get it – Sakura is just so wrong about you. You're unbelievable."
Sasuke felt himself bristle at the provocation, pushing Suigetsu out of his path and making his way toward the red-haired kunoichi. "You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he countered coldly, staring down at her.
Karin didn't back down from the confrontation. "You have the rest of your life to find your brother," she retorted acidly. "We left the base to find Sakura, remember? That's what you were ranting to Kabuto about, and the second we actually leave Sound, you forget all about her and go back to your insane obsession with Itachi – don't even try to lie about it; we can all see that you were trying to track him instead; we all know that he's your first priority—"
"Don't you dare—"
"Stop it!" Suigetsu snapped, pushing between them – for once, trying to diffuse the tension rather than provoking it. He glared at Karin over his shoulder. "You – don't judge him, okay? You have no idea. And you," – he drew himself up to his full height, surveying Sasuke coolly – "don't yell at her. And, in a way, Karin's right. We don't know Sakura's situation right now, which means that she's the priority."
After a few moments in which all three of them silently glared at one another and Jugo somewhat awkwardly stood by, Sasuke sighed tersely, turning away from Suigetsu and Karin, and refusing to reply.
"Look," Jugo interjected, re-shouldering his pack a little nervously. The tension was still thick in the air between them, and it set his nerves on edge. Until the issue was fully resolved, Karin and Sasuke would just keep sniping at each other, and Suigetsu would be caught in the middle, and it would just be a huge distraction for the group; they would never get anything done. "We should – I mean, as long as we're out of Sound, there's no harm in looking for both of them, right?" The words came out in a rush, and all three of his teammates looked at him incredulously, making him fidget a little self-consciously. "If we find Itachi along the way, we can let Sasuke get rid of him before we go on looking for Sakura. If we find Sakura first, then, that's good – and then we can make sure she's okay and then go and look for Itachi."
Sasuke turned away a little, feeling his face heat up a little. Sakura's face flickered through his mind for a fraction of an instant, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred deep within his chest – shame. Jugo's explanation sounded so…rational, and he wished that he had been the one to come up with it. "Fine," he said, too quickly.
Regardless of the snow, Jugo sunk down on one of the broken tree stumps, pulling his pack onto his lap and beginning to rummage through it. "Alright, then…"
"What are you doing?" Karin asked curiously, regarding him as if he had grown a second head.
He extricated two scrolls of paper and a dark pen. "When we get to Stone, we need to show composite sketches of both Sakura and Itachi to people in every town we pass through," he replied slowly, biting on the edge of the pen as he stared at the paper intently. "Physical descriptions will only get us so far. Sakura especially stands out because of her hair, but pictures should help trigger memories better. Hopefully someone will remember seeing her around…"
Jugo's voice was distant and lost in thought, and Sasuke blinked, startled, as with several painstaking strokes of the pen, Sakura slowly began to take shape on the paper. He hadn't known that Jugo could draw. From Suigetsu's confused blinking at the skilled rendition, he hadn't either. It was definitely, recognizably Sakura, but there was no way that Jugo could do her real justice.
When he was finished, he carefully set that one aside, and stared at Sasuke intensely, tilting his head a little to the side. "…What does your brother look like?" Jugo asked, at length, looking more than a little uncomfortable at having to ask this.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and Sasuke turned away from his team's quizzical, concerned gazes sharply, hoping that would make it easier. "He's taller than me," he said, and even though he was trying hard, he couldn't help how strained and tense his voice sounded. "…Older-looking, too; he's twenty. Long hair, tied back at the base of the neck. He has a narrower face and sharper features. Usually has the Sharingan activated. The Akatsuki cloak he usually wears is black with red clouds on it, which should be the major recognizable feature."
This took a bit longer for Jugo to complete. Sasuke didn't turn back and look at it once, but he heard Jugo making small, thoughtful sounds in the back of his throat, and Karin offering quiet, whispered suggestions.
"Okay," Jugo finally said, a little hesitantly. "It's done."
Sasuke waited until he heard the sound of both scrolls being rolled up before turning around again. As they usually did after any mention of Itachi, the other three looked distinctly ill at ease, but for some reason, it didn't aggravate the younger Uchiha as much as it usually did. They couldn't help it, and deep down inside, he knew that he would feel the same way if one of them was in a similar situation. In their own strange, emotionally stunted way, they all did care about each other to some extent.
"The closest border to the Land of Stone is three hundred miles north," Sasuke elaborated, watching their heads immediately swivel in that direction.
"So, let's say that Kabuto dropped Sakura off around there," Suigetsu extrapolated, looking thoughtful. "She doesn't know her way around, so she probably could have wandered anywhere."
"I'll be able to sense her more clearly once we get into Stone," Karin replied firmly. "As soon as we cross the border, as long as she doesn't have her chakra completely concealed, I can trace her exact path."
They were all so carefully optimistic that it made a bitter smirk twist onto Sasuke's lips. They didn't need to be optimistic for Sakura. She was alive; she had to be alive. He had never acknowledged it to her aloud, but she was a strong kunoichi who could more than adequately survive on her own. Hopefully, she hadn't strayed too far from the border of Stone. The sooner that they could find her, the sooner that he could return to normal…and they could move on to the issue that was nagging at the back of his head constantly, every moment of every day and even waking him up in the middle of the night.
Itachi.
Sasuke's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sheathed katana as they silently walked on.
Stone, Present
They hadn't exchanged more than a few sentences for about four and a half hours.
Since the failed attempt at capturing the target in the forest, she and Itachi had returned to the contractor's place and then gone on some kind of short but ridiculously complicated, major tension-inducing espionage mission, which she hadn't understood at all, because he had refused to tell her any details. All she knew was that she had been made to cast a complex confusion genjutsu on a phalanx of guards to some top-secret intelligence office in order to give Itachi license to simply waltz on in and gather all the information that he needed. Technically, he could have done it all by himself, but Sakura had the feeling that he didn't trust her alone for more than a minute.
She leaned against the wall outside of the contractor's building, sighing bitterly and regretting every single time that, in a fit of frustration while back in Sound, she had wished that dear Orochimaru-sama trusted them enough to leave the base and actually go on real shinobi missions. She had felt like she was really missing out on something. Actually, not so much. From her experience so far, missions were grossly overrated.
…However, perhaps that had more to do with her partner and less to do with the institution itself.
Sakura scowled, frustrated, lifting her hands to massage her forehead. She had a massive tension headache – the worst she'd ever had – and confusion was a gross, hideous understatement of how she still felt after her earlier confrontation with Itachi. He hadn't killed her yet, which was more than she had expected…but he could always be biding his time. And besides, it wasn't that issue so much as the doubts that had plagued her immediately after he had coaxed her out of not taking his life when she had the chance.
She had been stretching her chakra to the very limits since then, desperately searching for any sign of Sasuke or the others, and that in itself was enough of a strain. After a week of travel, they should have been getting close, and she couldn't waste even a little bit of chakra on herself until later tonight, when she had no other choice. Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, reaching back toward her left shoulder, before thinking better of it and curling her hand into a fist, pressing it behind her back as her lips twisted into a pained grimace. Itachi hadn't dislocated it – at least, not fully, but whatever he had done had messed that and her upper arm up a lot. She could barely move it, and she could bet that when she took her shirt off, the entire area would be bruised beyond belief.
Itachi Uchiha. The perfect gentleman. I can just tell where Sasuke got it from.
…Sasuke had no problem with beating the crap out of her whenever Orochimaru-sama had requested that his most prized protégé display the skills that he so coveted – the skills that made Sasuke a shinobi already on parallel with more than a few of Konoha's ANBU, as Kabuto-sensei said. Most of the time, Orochimaru made the boys fight each other, but every few months, without fail, he always paired her and Sasuke up together. Sakura had never been able to bring herself to use any really crippling medical genjutsu on him – none of them were allowed to damage Orochimaru's precious vessel, anyway, and the pink-haired kunoichi's lips tightened at the memories. Even if she had been physically allowed to, she would never have been able to bring herself to hurt Sasuke.
He shared no similar reservations.
Unlike Karin, Sasuke never helped her ease off her vest when her arms were too stiff to move, in the aftermath of healing the bones that he had broken. Unlike Jugo, he never (unnecessarily, as she was a medic-nin, but still) sprinted down to the kitchens to bring her fresh packs of ice to deal with the black eyes. Unlike Suigetsu, who had accidentally left her with a long, shallow cut along her right leg during the one spar they had shared, Sasuke had never bandaged the wounds he had inflicted on her.
…Not only that. Sasuke had never apologized. Not even once.
Sakura frowned absentmindedly, looking down at the floor and nudging the snow with the toe of her boot. She had never held that, or any of the injuries he had inflicted on her, against him, despite Karin's perpetual disapproval. It was just how Sasuke was, and she had come to accept the strange nuances of his personality a long time ago. It was just that, sometimes she wished—
She cut the thought off abruptly, driving her boot further into the drift of snow. Sasuke was what he was because of Itachi. There was no point wishing otherwise.
After what felt like forever, she heard the door open and shut again, and when Sakura opened her eyes again, Itachi was looking at her guardedly, holding something in one tightly clenched palm. Before she could question him about it, he glanced toward her right hand.
It was obvious what he wanted, and a little nervously, Sakura held it out, still a little bit rattled by the unwelcome flashback to the less-than-pleasant aspects of her stay in Sound and relationship – if it could even be called that – with Sasuke. The sudden movement as she leaned away from the wall jarred her shoulder even more, and she bit her lip hard to keep herself from wincing.
Itachi's fingers were surprisingly gentle as he placed what felt like a stack of folded paper into the palm of her hand, before lightly curling her fingers around it. She doubted he realized it, but he held on just a fraction of a second too long, his thumb brushing across her knuckles, before drawing back a little self-consciously, and the action sent the slightest of tremors running through the length of Sakura's arm. She gave her hand a perfunctory glance, but then the pink-haired kunoichi's eyes widened upon looking at what he had given her – it was a good amount of precisely folded ryou.
What the hell? Was this his way of getting her, a potential threat to his interests, out of his way without killing her? And he had given her money – enough to keep her alive for a month, it looked like. Was Itachi actually taking mercy on her or something?
It was only then that Sakura became aware that she was staring at her hand like an idiot, her mouth gaping open like some kind of…stupid goldfish or something. Hastily, she snapped it shut, looking up at him quickly. She couldn't be quite sure, but to her sudden mortification, from the expression that just barely lingered at the corners of his features, Itachi actually looked somewhat amused.
Horror of horrors, Inner Sakura commented sarcastically. He actually displays the human emotions of amusement and compassion, unlike Sasuke-kun. Perhaps you should just hook up with this one instead—
Shoving the rather unwelcome commentary from her unconscious mind aside, Sakura blinked up at Itachi, more than a little nonplussed. "Um," she said awkwardly, hating her propensity to lose some coherency whenever uncomfortable situations like this came around. "What is this for?"
You've charmed me with your excessive, exotically rare beauty and skill as a powerful kunoichi, triggering my sole remaining compassionate instinct, Inner Sakura immediately sing-songed in her best Itachi impersonation…which wasn't saying much. Therefore, I won't kill you – feel free to frolic merrily away along to Sasuke. Meanwhile, I will cheerfully jump off the edge of the nearest cliff in order to spare everybody the trouble of dealing with me.
Sakura's left eye twitched very slightly.
She could only hope that the ravings of Inner Sakura weren't reflected in any way in her eyes, because as Itachi looked at her, this time, she could swear that she saw the tiniest of miniscule smiles touch the edge of his lips.
Sakura refused to let herself even think it, although the blush that defied her strongest protestations and began to slowly color her cheeks said enough.
"We can meet at the sushi bar three stores down from the hotel in an hour," Itachi decreed coolly, before turning his back on her and beginning to walk away. "You may go buy yourself something nice."
The words took a moment to register, and when they did, Sakura's jaw dropped in the way that she only thought happened in Karin's lame shoujo manga. Had he really just…?
Yes. Yes, he had.
That…that…asshole.
Infuriated, Sakura turned around and fairly stomped away in the opposite direction from Itachi, indignantly shoving the money into her pocket.
Damn Uchiha.
Once Itachi was sure that Sakura was a safe distance away from him, for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt his mouth quirk up into a small, genuine smile.
It only took a few seconds for it to wither thoroughly, though, and the involuntary physical reaction was soon replaced by a frown.
Yes, it had been nice to indulge in a brief display of selfishness. It was hardly a criminal act; Itachi was the first to admit that he did experience the occasional impulses toward rare displays of levity. Most of the time such impulses manifested in serving as Kisame's accomplice as the two of them crafted innovative ways in which to cheat obscenely rich, overconfident civilians during games of high-stakes blackjack. Kisame enjoyed the financial payoff; Itachi rather preferred watching the physical reactions of their opponents when they realized that they had suddenly found themselves short of several thousand ryou.
It was just harmless fun, really.
…Unlike indulging the rather more dangerous impulse to give his temporary partner a good deal more attention than was strictly necessary or appropriate. Especially considering that said partner was supposedly in love with his younger brother – the thought was enough to etch a few more less-than-pleased creases into Itachi's forehead. Unlike any other shinobi or kunoichi he had ever encountered, Sakura claimed allegiance not to any set organization or village. Her loyalties were directed solely toward Sasuke.
A small, internal voice lectured him about how that was exactly why, despite the physical proximity; he should keep a strict distance from Sakura. She was a clever and very observant girl, who likely already knew more about him than he was at all comfortable with, and that, in turn, proved a danger to the façade that he had spent the past several years crafting.
…That voice was all cold, impersonal calculation; pure intellect and rationale speaking. Normally that did not conflict with the majority of his thoughts and actions, but as Itachi pushed the door to the small, warm and cozily decorated bookstore open and quietly slipped inside, he noted that his frown had become even more pronounced.
The strong scent of the sweet orange tea that he favored lingered in the air, relaxing him somewhat, and mentally, the dark-haired shinobi resolved to pick some up from the nearby store after he was done here. Even though he had never been to this particular bookstore before, Itachi found the poetry aisle as if it was second-nature to him, and, seeking some form of respite, he reached for the first haiku compilation he laid eyes on, restlessly flipping to a random page in the middle.
Fire in your eyes
Alternating with deep peace
That's why I love you
--Tanja Cilia
Itachi closed the book very gingerly, as if it ran the risk of leaping up of its own accord and beating him on the head with its pointless, saccharine sentimentality, before setting it back on the shelf.
He stared at the countless poetry anthologies in front of him through unseeing eyes, before at last, a long, frustrated sigh worked its way free of his chest. It was utterly irrational. Ridiculous, even.
But something about the pink-haired kunoichi fascinated him beyond belief. Perhaps it was the unusual circumstances upon which they had met, but disturbingly enough, Itachi could not shake the insidious feeling that it was Sakura's deep, unwavering loyalty to his younger brother that drew him to her so strongly. Where the overwhelming majority of shinobi had their emotions well and truly trained out of them by this point, Sakura was a total contradiction to that. She was undoubtedly intelligent, like himself – perhaps she would even give him a run for his money, were she older and more experienced – but everything she did was dominated and motivated by passion and love and loyalty, not the cold, mechanical sense of duty and self-interest that was instilled into all shinobi at a very young age.
There was a selflessness and a purity of emotion that Itachi saw in her that he had never witnessed in anybody else – the fact that she had willingly put her own life at risk in order to attempt challenging him, only for Sasuke's sake. He had encountered hunter-nin who had literally betrayed and thrown their own teammates into his path in order to attempt avoiding direct confrontation…where, in contrast, Sakura was willing to step forward and face him out of her own free will, and to potentially sacrifice her life for somebody that she loved so deeply.
To be completely honest…it reminded Itachi a little of himself.
He lifted one hand to rub the back of his sore neck, more than a little uncomfortable at the direction his thoughts were going. Shinobi were trained to believe that emotion was weakness; that it was a useless hindrance that should only be stifled or repressed entirely. For the longest time, he had sincerely believed that he was the one existing exception to that general rule. Perhaps it was unrealistic on his part, but it certainly felt that way.
Even though Sakura didn't, couldn't, know it – Itachi had orchestrated the past seven years of his life for his brother. He was as willing to die for Sasuke as she was, and the irony was nearly unbearable. Beneath the surface, they both shared that amount of; that capacity for such great loyalty, love, and passion. And, no matter what she thought, he was human. He had been painfully lonely for years, locked in a kind of self-imposed isolation, and the instinct to reach out to somebody who he shared that much common ground with was nearly overwhelming.
Sakura drew him to her like a flame to a particularly masochistic moth. Aside from the other reasons, she was so stubborn; so grounded in her ideals that it was frustrating, and he couldn't help having her on his mind so often. Itachi could tell that she would believe absolutely anything that Sasuke had told her, simply by virtue of the fact that it was Sasuke who was saying it. For a fraction of a second after he had coaxed Sakura to let him go – his word choice was perhaps a little too careless then, admittedly – she had looked up at him with just the barest flicker of doubt in her eyes. And, strangely enough, it hadn't filled him with panic, but…anticipation, almost. But then it was gone; the suspicion sliding back into her gaze, as she distanced herself from him.
For somebody so intelligent, she was surprisingly slow to question; to look between the lines…underneath the underneath, as Kakashi Hatake would say. Ironic, as the man had been her squad leader. Even though Sakura had not lived in Konoha for three or so years, as well, Itachi could just tellthat her idealism about her former home was so strong that the truth would be far beyond her wildest imaginings.
She was so…innocent. Idealistic. As pathetic as it sounded, Sakura reminded Itachi of what he used to be – at four years old, before the clan had begun shaping him into the man they thought he should be.
The thought filled him with an uncharacteristic sort of bitterness, and Itachi's fingers tightened around the spine of the book he was holding. On one hand, he wanted to take Sakura by the shoulders and force her to see the truth, whether she wanted to or not. It wasn't that difficult. He had slipped up around her so many times that it made him wince. In the first two days that he had known Kisame – two days, and that was back when the sickness hadn't been such a dead giveaway; back when his resolve and resilience had been sharper, and his acting abilities had been downright flawless – his partner had guessed. Not guessed, even. "That's fucked up," Kisame's exact words had been, in that same flat tone, one day over dinner, after he had spent the entire day scrutinizing him. "Somebody made you do it, didn't they, kid?"
There had been no denying it.
For some inexplicable reason, the thought of Sakura believing all that Sasuke had told her – all about how he was a ruthless, callous, cruel, cold-blooded murderer; ready to snap at any given moment and annihilate anybody and everybody in his path – upset him. The realization, as it dawned on Itachi, was an unpleasant one: maybe it was just the fact that he was nearing the end, and subconsciously, he wanted at least one person to know the real him before it was too late.
…The temptation, on that front, was incredible. The temptation to slip up one too many times. Or, as he had very nearly done earlier, back in the forest, to just throw Sakura's own poisonous verbal attacks back at her, and come straight out and tell her the truth. To watch the world as she knew it shatter around her.
The idea sent a shiver down his spine, but Itachi made himself shake his head determinedly, ridding it of the foolish ideas. It was simply wishful thinking. One such careless action would ruin all the work of the past several years.
After a few moments of silence, in which he intently contemplated the nearest row of books – here, there was no Sakura, so he had the freedom to move his nose an inch away from the shelf, so that he could actually make out the words; faking perfect vision was an exhausting endeavor – Itachi's lips twisted into a slightly self-deprecating smirk. In addition…if he was to be completely, painfully honest with himself – other such deep, noble reasons aside for his fascination with her aside…he had not really been significantly physically attracted to any female since he had been thirteen or so. Since leaving Konoha, he had traveled to every corner of the world and back again, but while Kisame had a tendency to sigh after any and every person whom he saw that possessed the requisite amounts of estrogen, he considered himself infinitely more discerning. Sakura's strange, exotic coloring had been the only thing to catch his eye in years.
Itachi sighed quietly, eyes lighting on a book of poems that looked decidedly too romantic for his tastes, and then flickering on to the next one, even though his attention had been thoroughly diverted. He knew too much and too little about how to be a brother. He had not seen Sasuke since he had been eight, and he had tortured him emotionally, in a way so pervasive that it had left scars on his psyche that were probably still present…arguably for his own sake, though. And yet, he was willing to die to redeem him.
The greatest regret in his life was that he had not been allowed to be a real brother to Sasuke, on a day-to-day basis.
However little he knew about what it was like, though…he still understood that there were certain unspoken truths; certain boundaries that were not to be crossed. However much the thought left a somewhat bitter taste in Itachi's mouth – however wrong it was – Sakura and Sasuke belonged with one another, and that had been decided long before he came into the picture. Regardless of the considerable temptation, he had no right to infringe on that.
Slowly and rather deliberately, Itachi walked to the opposite side of the lengthy row of poetry volumes. The covers shifted from red and pink and full of flowery cursive to dark and plain and rather forbidding. The tragedies, of course.
His shoulders relaxed just a little as he reached toward one that looked particularly promising. It was nice to be back where he belonged.
Go buy yourself something nice.
There was no shortage of nice things in the more affluent areas of this town. There were streets upon streets of high-end clothing boutiques full of things Sakura had never even dreamed of, with towering window displays of ridiculously realistic mannequins wearing the most extravagantly gorgeous clothes and jewelry ever, and those made her miss Karin with a fierceness she couldn't ever have imagined. She couldn't even count all the times the two of them had lamented the serious lack of good shopping opportunities in Sound's border towns.
So Sakura turned away from those kinds of stores, instead heading purposefully toward the center of town. Even civilian towns had at least one store geared toward shinobi, usually owned by a retired shinobi or kunoichi, and she had come across this one when she had first staggered into this particular town; starving and freezing. She hadn't bothered going in, having no money at the time, but even from the outside, she had taken note of the impressive inventory.
It was still snowing, but surprisingly, Sakura didn't feel unpleasantly, bone-chillingly cold to any extent. She was wearing standard civilian clothes – probably purchased from one of the high-end boutiques she had just been longingly staring into a few minutes ago – so it didn't really make sense…unless Itachi had gone and infused the material with his chakra or something. It was a common thing for shinobi to do to protect their bodies from the ravages of excess rain, cold, or heat; albeit one she had never quite gotten the hang of, since medic-nin training hadn't taken her out in the elements all that often.
The thought of Itachi doing that for her made Sakura scowl, even as she ducked into the welcome warmth of the store, absentmindedly responding to the polite greeting of the cashier as she scanned the interior quickly.
It took her only a little while to find what she needed, and Sakura surveyed her things with satisfaction as she finally deposited them on the counter. No frivolous pretty things for this girl, she told herself wryly, watching the cashier total the costs of the small and discreet, yet large capacity, summoning scroll, along with the sleek roll of five razor-sharp kunai and the several sets of long-range shinobi radio wires. The latter were frequently used in espionage or tracking missions; the secondary pieces could be deposited anywhere over a set area, and as long as she kept the alpha piece near her and activated, she would get a constant sound feed of whatever was going on in the places she had planted the secondary pieces. The alpha piece also came equipped with a high-tech tracker display that would – if she heard something of interest – cause the location of the secondary piece nearest to it to flare up on the display…so that she could make it over there as fast as possible.
Even after all that, she still had a surprisingly large amount of ryou left over, and Sakura pocketed it discreetly as she left the store. If, for whatever reasons, it became necessary for her to leave immediately and find Sasuke and the others, she would definitely not be facing any sort of financial difficulty. Thank you, Itachi.
Kabuto had taught her only a few key genjutsu, but those would be acceptable in this situation. After cautiously making her way into one of the side alleys nearest to the store, Sakura hastily deposited her kunai and radio wires into the summoning scroll, before casting an appearance-altering genjutsu onto the scroll. Within moments, it had configured into a tiny, innocent-looking coin purse – dark purple and quilted with a little bow on it. Ino had one just like that when they had been twelve, and she had thought it was the cutest thing ever.
It fit easily into her pocket, and Sakura took a deep breath as she returned to the main street, running her chilled fingers through her hair. The Sharingan could detect the presence of genjutsu, but from what she had seen; Itachi didn't have it activated as often as Sasuke did. Considering what Sasuke had told her about him, that was strange…
Itachi wasn't at the sushi bar yet, so Sakura sank into one of the outdoor chairs at the small table, leaning back a little uncomfortably and trying not to put any weight on her shoulder.
Trust your instincts. It was advice that became second-nature knowledge to any shinobi, but what happened when you didn't understand what your instincts were trying to tell you? Or, worse, what happened when you had the kind of dark, sinking feeling that what your instincts were trying to tell you was completely irrational? Impossible? Insane, even?
Sakura eyed her pensive-looking reflection in the table's glass surface. Despite the utter conviction of the more rational part of her mind, there was just this tiny, nagging particle of doubt that refused to leave her alone. There was something about Itachi that just didn't fit; there was a strange disconnect between what Sasuke had described him as and who he really seemed to be. Earlier today, she had seen a little bit more of Itachi's emotional side, when she had accused him of not caring for Sasuke, and while it wasn't unheard of for psychopaths or sociopaths to fake emotions or reactions, Itachi had just seemed so…genuine and raw and unguarded in those moments that it was startling. It couldn't have been a pretense. It wasn't possible for someone to fake that kind of intensity.
Not to mention the added issue of the reason for the chakra barrier Itachi seemed to have covered himself with.
The pink-haired kunoichi scratched the tips of her fingernails against the glass glumly. She knew that Itachi was hiding something; that much was inarguable.
Now, she just had to figure out what it was. And, undoubtedly, that sounded a lot easier than it was actually going to be.
Much to his displeasure, the small, focused concentration of chakra that was centered around Sakura's left hip drew the majority of Itachi's attention for the entirety of their dinner.
He most certainly did not want to be thinking about Sakura's hips while the girl that they were attached to sat across from him, taking half-hearted nibbles of her sushi and looking utterly preoccupied. As somebody whose mind was typically whirring at rapid speeds throughout most hours of the day, Itachi could easily recognize when somebody else was doing the same thing. It was only that, when Sakura was the one doing it, it made him slightly wary.
The chakra covered by the genjutsu wasn't quite large enough for it to be the set of surveillance radio wires Itachi had hoped she would purchase, which was disappointing. He had planned to sleep an hour and a half later than customary the next morning, therefore giving Sakura the opportunity to escape into the massive forest near the border between Sound and Stone and then rig the area with the secondary radio pieces, which should have allowed her to keep track of Sasuke's movements as he (hopefully) approached the area.
How very…vexing. He had even walked in the opposite direction from the supply store in order to ensure that, in her fit of temper and subsequent desire to be as far from him as possible, Sakura would walk straight toward it. Itachi had thought, by giving her the requisite amount of money and the privacy to purchase such things, that it would have been a guarantee. Save for holding her by the hand and actually taking a leisurely walk around the town that happened to culminate there, there was nothing more that he could do.
The latter option wasn't quite so unsavory, a small and rather nefarious internal voice pointed out to him.
For her part, Sakura wasn't quite sure why Itachi spent the rest of their dinner glaring at his small platter of sushi like he was trying to make it spontaneously burst into flames.
The potential solution came to her forty-five minutes later, when she was safely in the warmth of their room. Almost as soon as they had entered, Itachi had muttered something about needing to pay for it and gone downstairs again, leaving her blissfully alone.
Not thinking twice about it, Sakura kicked off her boots, before proceeding to the bathroom and nudging the door half-shut with her hip. She liked not having to deal with the strain that Itachi's very presence caused her, but at the same time, being alone in such a large, relatively unfamiliar space was a little creepy. She and Ino had watched way too many horror movies in their younger days that centered around gruesome, frightening things that happened to innocent girls who found themselves alone in seemingly innocuous places like this.
Now that she had her chakra back, it was a simple matter to drain the sink and incinerate her poor, forlorn and hopelessly beyond repair old clothes with a small, well-controlled Katon. Afterward, Sakura wasted no time sliding out of her clothes – wincing as she struggled with pulling her sweater over her head – and she stared at her reflection then, a little shocked that she had gone so long like this. Her shoulder was a spectacular shade of twisted purple, and the bruising had extended to her upper arm and halfway down that shoulder blade as well. So it had been dislocated…or even separated. She wouldn't be able to tell without a more in-depth physical examination. Great. She popped out the side mirror on the cabinet, carefully angling it to give her a better view of her body so that she wouldn't have to twist around and contort herself too much; she could already tell that the injury was at a difficult location to deal with.
Gingerly, Sakura slid the strap of her bra all the way down, before freeing her arm of it entirely and then unhooking it, letting it fall to the floor; it was just irritating the skin there even more, and the pressure was unwelcome on her already impossibly sore back. She wrapped her injured arm around her chest and pulled a thin sheet of chakra to her other hand, twisting her body a little to the side so she could gently press it to her injured shoulder. The relief was slight yet instantaneous, and she felt herself sigh softly, pressing down a little bit harder. It would take a while, but it was going to be all right.
As she healed, slowly and carefully probing and beginning to correct the injured area, Sakura reconsidered her potential plan of action. Itachi had to release the chakra barrier at least once or twice a day; he might have great chakra control, but even she couldn't wrap an internal barrier of that strength around herself and never let it go. It would be a continuous, staggering drain on energy.
Why would Itachi even feel the need to cover himself up with a chakra barrier, anyway? Sakura mused absentmindedly, running her chakra-covered hand over her shoulder and applying a bit more pressure to it. There were only a few plausible reasons she could think of: the barrier might serve to protect anything beneath the skin if Itachi faced an attack targeting the internal body systems…like an organ-rupturing offensive medical ninjutsu, for example.
That was quite likely, actually, and Sakura found herself frowning speculatively at her reflection.
True, the barrier could be to keep from anything getting in…or it could be to keep anything from getting out.
She considered it for a little while, her hand stilling on its restless path. Once, Kabuto-sensei had offhandedly mentioned that Orochimaru did something like that – all chakra barriers were also crafted out of some kind of subtle genjutsu as well – to conceal his 'true appearance' from the rest of the world. Sakura hadn't pressed the issue; a little bit revolted and disgusted by the very mention of that freak, but now, she wished that she had.
…But what could Itachi want to conceal? She couldn't imagine that he had some kind of 'true appearance' that he was masking, and she had no doubt that the Itachi she saw was very, very real.
Common misconception, Sakura-chan, Inner Sakura offered sagely. Undoubtedly Kabuto-sensei was on to something and Itachi's using the chakra barrier to hide the fact that he's really a girl.
It was the stress speaking, obviously, but Sakura couldn't help it; the mental image that immediately popped up was simply too hilarious to quell. After all, her mind could only handle so much tension-inducing, serious thinking at one stretch, and momentarily forgetting the gravity of the situation, the pink-haired kunoichi wrapped both arms around her chest and giggled softly to herself.
It hurt.
For the kami's sake, it had been around six hours since Sakura had kneed him in the groin, and it still hurt.
Itachi pressed the number of the top floor into the elevator's control pad somewhat more vehemently than necessary, leaning against the side as the doors slid shut. He had been trying to get his mind off it for the past several hours – he had more experience than most people in compartmentalizing even the worst, most debilitating kinds of physical agonies – but this particular experience was…rather new. He had hoped that the pain would dissipate after a few hours (surely this kind of prolonged torture was not common?) but that did not seem to be the case. And now that he did not have the added strain of the mission or the pleasant diversion of the bookstore to direct his thoughts toward other things, it seemed much worse than before.
Once the elevator opened again, Itachi quite subtly limped over toward the room that he shared with Sakura. It was humiliating to admit it, but by this time, he was beginning to fear some kind of…irregularity. Some sort of permanently crippling internal damage. As if he really needed more of that.
He doubted that she realized it at the time, but Sakura must have unconsciously directed chakra to her knee before the attack; undoubtedly that was why the injury turned out to be so severe. The possibility was enough to give the lone Akatsuki member a moment of pause, as his hand stilled on the doorknob. He had only heard of one other person known to use that kind of technique on a regular basis – the legendary Tsunade, Konoha's Godaime Hokage. Rumor had it that, by directing the slightest amount of chakra to her fist, she could shatter solid concrete walls into nothing more than dust with a single punch.
Itachi paled fractionally as he quietly slipped into the room, silently shutting the door behind him. If Sakura ever caught on to the other kinds of things she could do with her exceptional degree of chakra control (and unfortunately enough, she was so bright that he only gave it a matter of time), she would be an even more formidable kunoichi. Any shinobi would be lucky to have her as an ally, while any opponent would likely rather run screaming for the hills than attempt to engage her in combat.
A slightly wry smirk touched the corner of his lips. Lucky him.
Itachi was too lost in thought to note the apparent absence of the girl in question as he sunk down into the bed, reaching for the new book of poetry that he had just purchased earlier.
He didn't know what about it caught his attention. Sakura had switched on the light to the main room, so the bathroom light didn't particularly stand out. Maybe it was just the incongruity of the door being slightly ajar, and the way the light glanced off the mirror.
The door was open just a little; closed enough for Sakura's actual body to be hidden from view. But the way the mirror was angled…
He didn't want to look, really. Part of his mind had realized what he was going to see in the instant before it happened, but it was too late; he couldn't exactly stop himself.
Itachi swallowed almost imperceptibly, taking everything in with one brief glance. The way Sakura had pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail, getting it out of the way, and the way that she had modestly wrapped one arm around her bare chest…covering all the essential parts, he supposed, but creating an amount of cleavage that drew his unwilling attention for more than a moment. And, of course, the pained expression on her face as she turned to the side, blind to his accidental intrusion of her privacy, awkwardly nudging her elbow up in order to attempt giving her chakra-coated hand better access to the darkly bruised skin of her opposite shoulder, upper arm, and back.
Itachi could tell that it was healed halfway, but the sight still made something inside him clench up tightly, stunned beyond belief. He had meant just to stop her from bringing her hands together to form hand seals. That was not supposed to have happened. The heat of the moment, he supposed, mildly horrified – combined with how he had underestimated his own strength – but still…
If how awful it looked was any indicator of how severe the injury was…he had really hurt her, and Itachi didn't expect the sharp twinge of physical pain – lingering around his right shoulder; the same place that her bruises were – that came with the instant stab of remorse he felt at the mere thought.
She turned again, still looking worried by her inability to properly reach the slight spatter of bruises on her shoulder blade, and Itachi didn't know why, even though it only required a few minute twitches of his neck muscles, it was so damn hard to turn away. If he had been trained as she had, instead of being forced into the path that the clan had chosen for him, he could run his hands over her skin carefully, gently, and heal her bruised skin and torn muscles in a moment.
The thought; the image; lingered in Itachi's mind for longer than necessary, and a slight tremor raced through his hands as he practically felt how Sakura's skin would shiver if he touched her like that. How she would arch her spine away from his hands, but then slowly, subconsciously, begin to melt back into them; into the warmth they provided.
…That was unnecessary, though. A completely irrelevant, inappropriate train of thought. He would never have the opportunity to do such a thing, in any case—
Sakura's fingers moved over her shoulder again, gently massaging the injured area, and before he could stop himself, before he could control himself, Itachi was suddenly envisioning his hands caressing her bare back – and every other inch of skin that was exposed to him – instead…or how Sakura would react if she blinked for a moment and then opened her eyes to find him in the bathroom with her, quietly shutting and locking the two of them inside.
In a rare, unguarded moment, he had to close his eyes tightly against the onslaught of rather evocative images that were triggered by the mere thought, shifting uncomfortably against the bed. These desires were strange and new and intoxicating and inexplicable…and getting very out of control, very fast. A small voice in Itachi's head was urging him to look away, now – it was the decent thing to do, and he knew that Sakura's contorting and angling would do her very little good, and she would have to change the positions of her arms sometime, and she in no way deserved to be stared at like a platter of food faced by an impossibly starved man.
Because she belonged with Sasuke, and she was fifteen, and—
In that instant, Itachi wanted Sakura – to touch her; to press her up against a wall and kiss her; to do anything to make her see him as more than some kind of deranged, psychopathic monster; to do all of the above and force her to understand him, the real him – so much that it made him feel sick. In more ways than one.
Slowly, painfully, he wrenched his gaze away from her, turning his entire body to the opposite side of the room with difficulty and lying down stiffly. Belatedly, Itachi realized that he was breathing too hard to be healthy, and his chest ached mercilessly…like an impossibly heavy, iron weight had settled on top of him.
He turned his flushed face against the coolness of the pillows, forcing himself to regulate his breathing, even though every breath was a struggle, and he crumpled a fistful of blanket in one white-knuckled fist, trying to calm down as the seconds slowly ticked by.
He could hear Sakura in the bathroom, and he tried not to envision what she was doing – tried not to think about the slender curves of her body; the uncertain, nervous way her fingers touched her own skin, unconsciously inviting more assertive exploration. Her soft, frustrated sounds had given way to small, quiet sighs of relief, and Itachi could assume that she had finally finished healing herself. After a few moments, he heard her stumble on something, bump against the counter, and swear quietly – but in doing so, her hip collided with the door, finally causing it to close properly.
Good. Itachi swallowed again, over his sandpaper-dry throat, forcing himself to close his aching eyes.
It was normal, he supposed, after a few minutes of torturous silence and stillness. The fierce, overwhelming nature of this kind of attraction…he had never experienced that volume of visual stimulation before, and added to the fact that he had been unable to get Sakura off his mind for a couple of hours beforehand, as well… He was only human, after all. Susceptible to all of those mortal weaknesses.
Almost unconsciously, Itachi put one hand to his heart, pressing down so hard that it hurt. Like he needed another reminder.
In the bathroom, Sakura sighed with relief as she pulled the shirt Itachi had given her last night over her body. It was funny – she had cringed so much at it before, but today, she could only seem to marvel at how loose, non-restricting, and comfortable that the simple black cotton felt against her skin. Through some sort of miracle, she had managed to get her shoulder healed. It was a rough, rudimentary job, though – the worst of it had been taken care of, but the muscles themselves were still mercilessly stiff. Unfortunately, massaging her own shoulder blades was quite inconvenient.
Feeling a slight iota of guilt for taking over the bathroom for so long, she pulled the door open and shuffled out, looking around cautiously. Itachi was sitting stiffly on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard, while reading something out of yet another – however, newer looking – unmarked black book, which he had positioned over his lap somewhat awkwardly.
Sakura lingered there for a moment, slightly unsure of what to do. She didn't know if it was just her imagination or not, but Itachi seemed to be radiating even more unapproachable vibes than customary. Not to mention that he didn't seem to be reading his book so much at staring at one point on a page with a kind of fixed intensity that would have probably made her melt if it had been directed at her.
Melt in the bad way; Sakura hastily clarified to herself as she approached the opposite side of the bed. As in, slowly and painfully transfigure into slowly congealing lava before dripping off the edge of a cliff.
She flopped down on the silky purple covers without further thought, but literally the very second that her body made full contact with the bed, Itachi hastily got up, and, still completely refusing to look at her, made his way to the bathroom as quickly as possible. In another instant, the door slammed behind him. Loudly.
Sakura blinked, a little startled. Due to her own preoccupations, she hadn't noticed before, but Itachi was limping. Subtly, yes, but still. It took her only an instant to figure out why, and in the same second, the blush started to creep up to her face. She had never attacked any of the boys in Sound like that during a spar – she just had Suigetsu's sworn promise that it was the only guaranteed way to rebuff even the worst attack by a male shinobi, and, well…it had seemed like an appropriate course of action at the time.
The minutes slowly moved by, with Itachi failing to re-emerge, and Sakura studied her hands, anxious despite herself. You really didn't have to do that, you know, Inner Sakura prompted, stepping into her occasional role as conscience. It wasn't like he was about to knife you or anything.
Sakura opened her mouth defensively. Upon realizing that she was going to argue with the voice inside her mind out loud, she shut it abruptly, drawing her knees to her chest and pushing her hands between them with an aura of mulish stubbornness.
Was it normal for it to hurt this long? Had she been a little overenthusiastic?
Suddenly, her horrified gaze snapped to her right knee, and then to the shut bathroom door, and back again.
Shit. Those certain parts of the male anatomy certainly weren't her specialty, and she hadn't really acknowledged it at the time because of how the adrenaline had just taken over, but…well, she had figured that if a knee to the groin could totally get Suigetsu out of commission, it must be effective, but Suigetsu and Itachi were two totally different cases. By her original estimation, that same attack could cause Suigetsu to fall to the ground and Itachi to only experience mild discomfort. So, for Itachi, Sakura had tried to increase the intensity of the attack a little…directing chakra to the surface of her knee. It had been a wild, spur of the moment idea that she hadn't even thought would work, but…
The expression in her eyes slowly changed to fascination as Sakura lifted her right hand, curling it into a fist and staring at it. If she tried to do the same thing; to bring chakra to her fist in the instant before she punched something…what would it do?
Focus, Sakura! Her mind demanded, and she dropped her hand guiltily. She had just severely injured Itachi, and Sakura didn't expect the prick of actual guilt and remorse that she felt. Unlike the majority of other things, she had no idea what her attack would have done to him. From what Suigetsu had made it sound like, there were a lot of nerve endings down there.
She swallowed nervously. If Itachi had been hurting since then, and that had been six hours ago…well, in all honesty, she was surprised that he hadn't taken it out on her in any way.
Yet another anomaly to add to the rapidly-growing list.
Sakura interlaced her own fingers and stared down at them, totally unsure of what to do. Should she, well…knock on the door and offer to help or something?
The thought made her eyes widen, and the pink-haired kunoichi cringed reflexively.
She stayed stock-still, staring at the opposite wall with a blank expression until Itachi finally emerged again – dressed for the night, and, if it was even possible, looking even worse than he had before. His face was as pale as chalk, his normally impeccable hair was rather sexily mussed – the adjective escaped her traitorous mind before Sakura could even attempt to rescind it – and he looked, well…frustrated.
They positioned themselves as far apart on the bed as was possible without either of them falling off, and Sakura directed a discreet look at him out of the corner of her gaze, before quickly snapping it back to the white wall in front of her. Itachi was staring fixatedly at it as well, and distantly, she was aware that to an outside observer, this would probably look somewhat amusing – but the thick, uncomfortable tension that stretched between them was almost suffocating her.
"Fix it."
The abruptly spoken words were as terse and uncomfortable as she felt, and even though a tiny part of her had been dreading them beyond belief, Sakura was so startled by the sudden break in silence that she almost fell off the bed. Quickly managing to regain some semblance of composure, she turned towards Itachi so fast that she almost cricked her neck. "…Pardon?" she asked, her voice cracking on the last syllable.
Itachi's expression wasn't hostile in the least, but his meaning was made all too clear by the way his eyes flicked between her hands and his lap.
Oh, no. A million thoughts flickered through Sakura's head at once.
Firstly, Itachi had not phrased his words in a way that suggested that she had a choice in the matter. Furthermore, she had initially promised him her services as a medic-nin. And last, but not least…she definitely did not want to deal with an injured, irate Uchiha. She didn't even want to think about how Itachi would react if she refused him.
It was just the nature of the injury that was giving her pause, that was all. If she had done to his shoulder what he had done to hers, she wouldn't have hesitated to fix it up immediately. It was her word and therefore, her honor as a kunoichi at stake, after all.
That didn't change the fact that Sakura could feel the blood draining out of her face at a steady pace.
Be mature about this, she told herself severely, taking a deep, bracing breath. She had always resented Kabuto-sensei for barely letting her learn anything about actually healing and helping other people. This was her opportunity to do exactly what she had always wanted to do.
…But it wasn't like touching Itachi's junk was what she had always wanted to do. Of course not.
Professional veneer sliding into place, even though her nerves were set on edge so much that it was nearly unbearable, Sakura took a deep breath and held it, carefully inching closer to Itachi. Even though she could practically feel the impatience radiating off him at her tentative approach, he didn't move a muscle; probably accurately guessing that she would jump out of her skin at any sort of unexpected touch. She appreciated the consideration.
"So," Sakura finally stated, swallowing in an attempt to mask her nerves. She was practically tucked against his side – one of Itachi's arms was slightly behind her; she could feel the warmth radiating off it, and she was eye level with his chest. Luckily, she couldn't see his face from this particular angle. This was going to be uncomfortable. There was no way around it. No matter how professional she tried to be; no matter how many other delicate medical procedures on the human body she had performed in Sound; none of them had such a…sexual connotation to it. Sure, maybe experienced medics like Tsunade-sama (whom Kabuto-sensei had always spoke about in a half-mocking, half-respectful tone) could touch guys like this and not think anything of it, but she was fifteen. She didn't even know what to do, exactly. She didn't just want to reach out and grab it or anything…or maybe that was what she was supposed to do.
From somewhere above her, Itachi cleared his throat subtly, and Sakura blinked down at it, trying to regain her focus. "Right, well," she declared, her voice a little too loud for the enclosed room. "I'm…going to start now."
Yes, Sakura. Go right ahead. Grab the bull by the horns.
When she did, Itachi hissed sharply, grabbing her shoulder hard, his fingers digging painfully into her stiff muscles, and Sakura yelped, falling halfway over his lap. "Ouch!"
It was a struggle, but Itachi forced himself to relax his grip somewhat. She was touching him, and he could barely concentrate long enough to articulate a proper sentence. "I…apologize," he responded stiffly, trying to look anywhere but at her.
"No, no, I'm sorry," Sakura countered, so fast that she tripped over her words. Itachi hadn't let go of her yet, but at least he was being gentler. Still, she stared down at the…appendage…in her hands, stricken. This was obviously going to be worse than she thought – she didn't even know how to handle it.
Easy, Sakura, she cautioned herself. Be careful. Just pretend it's something harmless and delicate…like a kitten…or something.
By this point, Itachi was actually holding his breath, halfway bracing himself for another stab of pain at the hands of the merciless young kunoichi.
It was bruised, Sakura realized, halfway through her slow, gentle and chakra-enhanced stroke, really badly. No wonder Itachi had been limping around like that. Healing this was much easier than her shoulder had been, though; all it needed was a few doses of chakra. Besides, the act of, well…touching it was a lot less frightening now. It was strange how well a simple technique to get her mind off things worked.
Strangely enough, though, as soon as she had started up again, Itachi had suddenly gone completely rigid and motionless, which she was thankful for. But when she got ready to repeat the process, Sakura felt all the breath leave his body in a long, contented-sounding, sigh, his free hand drifting from her shoulder to curl around her the back of her neck. His thumb gently caressed the skin there, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
…Oh, dear, Sakura thought faintly, trying to force as much chakra to her hand as possible and speed up the entire endeavor. What the hell?
Was he—
He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Then again, she didn't think that Itachi was even fully conscious of what he was doing.
Well, part of her mind voiced dryly, you did promise sexual favors, after all.
Sakura nearly flinched back from the thought itself. I'm a good girl, she thought, somewhat irrationally under the circumstances. Good girls don't give handjobs.
She dared another quick look upward. Itachi's eyes were actually closed, his long, sooty eyelashes just brushing his cheeks, and his head tilted backwards. Every so often, the muscles in his shoulders would stiffen and he would roll them backward experimentally without opening his eyes, like he wanted to concentrate on whatever was going through his mind. From where Sakura was sitting, she could actually hear the soft, slight snatches of sound that occasionally escaped from his throat – almost like a purr; deep and satisfied. Itachi looked so…unguarded. Pleased. It was the most human that she had ever seen him, and it was fascinating. Eventually, his hand started to rub achingly slow circles against the back of her neck, making her want to tilt her head backward in order to further the touch.
The emotion that swelled up inside her was totally unexpected and unidentifiable, and now feeling even more uncomfortable with the entire situation, she finished as fast as she could. Her formerly satisfactory kitten imagery was now doing no good, and after a few minutes, Sakura tentatively looked up at Itachi, drawing back and letting go slowly. Belatedly, she realized that despite her attempts to keep some sort of distance, one side of her body had been snugly pressed against his chest for most of the time. It was weird how comfortable that felt. More significant than that, he hadn't even made any move to shrug her off him.
Physically comfortable, Sakura hastily amended. Just physically comfortable. A slight lapse in self-awareness caused by her diverted attention, no doubt.
Still, part of her; small and traitorous and totally inexplicable, almost didn't want to break the strange spell that had fallen over them.
Itachi's eyes flickered open, after a couple of moments, and Sakura felt oddly self-conscious as he slowly, languidly looked her over. She couldn't read his expression, but for the first time, stupidly enough, she didn't feel afraid. Just…expectant, somehow.
"I'm done," she blurted, regardless of the fact that it was ridiculously obvious, and much more loudly than their proximity required – damn, she hated how her mind had seemed to have turned into a puddle of mush. She just couldn't stop thinking about the fact that her hands were actually tingling.
Itachi blinked a few times, still looking as if he had just come out of some sort of trance. "…Very well," he replied, at length, and Sakura wondered whether the faint tone of regret in his voice was just a fragment of her imagination. The knot in her chest loosened a little – she really hadn't known whether he was going to ask her to continue or not, but she was so emotionally exhausted that she couldn't muster more than a passing sense of relief.
Without another word, Itachi reached over and turned off the small lamp at the bedside table, plunging the expansive room into darkness, and Sakura fidgeted awkwardly, all too aware of his movements as the two of them slid under the covers. They were close…really close, enough so that she could just slightly feel the warmth from his chest against her back, and that would have set her nerves thoroughly on edge if she was less drop-dead exhausted. Try as she might, she couldn't summon up the same real conviction that she had felt earlier that Itachi was planning to off her at the nearest possibility. He'd had more than sufficient opportunities to do so, and he hadn't even done so much as look at her amiss.
Stay awake, Sakura reminded herself sternly, even as she turned her head into the pillow, pressing her cheek into the silky, lavender-scented coolness. She had to stay awake for as long as possible, at least until Itachi released his chakra barrier. She had to know what he was hiding.
Her eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolling back ever so slightly. But it had been a tough day – the exhaustion and constant worrying about Sasuke, the rough conflict with Itachi, the mission…
Her resolve was stronger than that, though, and she forced her eyes open, determinedly staring at the silk of the pillowcase.
But then Itachi reached out, calmly and quite matter-of-factly wrapping one arm around her waist, before gently tugging her back against him.
Sakura froze.
Her eyes snapped wide open, staring at the blankets crumpled an inch from her nose in near panic, her fingers fisting in the sheets defensively. Her lips parted, a strangled protest catching in her throat out of sheer, undiluted fear. But it wasn't some kind of assault. He was holding her. Itachi was holding her, gently and non-threateningly. She couldn't actually see him, but—
The touch was sudden and unexpected; enough to make her give a choked gasp and arch her entire back away from his palm. Before Sakura could even blink, Itachi's arm tightened around her, making much movement impossible, and before she could fight it, he responded quietly, moving even closer. "Relax," he breathed, into her ear. His breath was warm, stirring the loose strands of hair near the side of her face, and the gesture sent an irrepressible shiver throughout her entire body.
Her body went poker-stiff as an instinctive defense mechanism, and, taking advantage of her newly-discovered skill, Sakura quietly loaded her right elbow with as much chakra as she could summon. If Itachi made even one bad move, she would shatter every single one of his ribs without compunction. End of story.
For a few moments, there was just tense silence, save for the soft hum of the heating unit and her own somewhat ragged breaths. But then, almost experimentally, Itachi rubbed his thumb across the stiff muscles of her right shoulder blade, applying just the right amount of pressure.
An unwilling sigh escaped her mouth, and it was mortifying, yes, but it just felt so good. Apparently taking the involuntary reaction as permission to continue, Itachi cautiously slid his palm over her shoulder.
He was massaging it, Sakura realized hazily, after a few more moments. She didn't need him to. She didn't even want him to be touching her like this – so gently, so intimately. The stiffness wasn't that horrible, anyway, and a good night's sleep would probably relax the area enough.
Why was Itachi doing this? It served no benefit to him whatsoever. It wasn't remotely sexual I-want-something-from-you touching. It was comforting and it made her want to close her eyes and relax and sigh and snuggle against him gratefully. It was making her feel better and worse at the same time. It was crazy, considering the fact that he had been the one to do this to her. It just didn't make any sense.
…Unless, somehow, this was his way of apologizing for hurting her in the first place.
His fingers kneaded into a particularly tight knot at the center of her shoulder blade, and despite her best efforts to hold it back, Sakura moaned quietly, letting her eyes slip shut as she leaned closer against him. Itachi's hand stilled momentarily, but he continued. For once, his hands were warm; she could feel the calluses on his palm through the worn material of the thin shirt she was wearing, and he was surprisingly good with his hands. Briefly, uncharacteristically, she wondered what it would feel like if he slipped his hand underneath the hemline of her shirt and trailed it back up to her shoulder blade. Skin on skin contact; the roughness of his palm against the smooth, untouched skin of her back. It would probably be divine.
Stop it, Sakura, a small voice in her mind ordered, sharply and mercilessly. Don't think like some kind of…some kind of slut. This is Itachi. Itachi, remember? What about Sasuke?
Regardless of how physically relaxed that Itachi was making her feel, a wave of sudden, inexplicable sadness washed over her – deep sorrow, mixed with a trace of something unexpected. Anger. The renewed knowledge or realization of it was even more painful than it had been the first time: that Sasuke would never, ever do this for her…that he would never offer her any of his attention or regard in a way that wasn't intended to benefit him first.
"Why?" Sakura mumbled, out of the blue, the words muffled and indistinct.
Again, Itachi paused, drawing back a little – she had been so still that he was under the impression that she had fallen asleep. "Why, what?" he asked guardedly.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Her voice was so soft and plaintive, so hurt and hopelessly confused, that it made something inside Itachi ache distantly. He had been stupid enough for one day. What he was doing…it was just causing unnecessary pain and conflict and confusion for both of them. This was enough.
Before Itachi could think better of it, he pressed the slightest of kisses to the back of Sakura's head, his lips just barely skimming her hair. She wouldn't have felt it at all; he barely did. "I am not doing anything to you, Sakura," he responded heavily. More accurately, I promise that I will not do anything further. "Sleep."
to be continued
Thank you, again, to the incredibly talented and amazing SwiftKick for reading this and the previous chapters over. To anybody who hasn't already, you should definitely go check out her work if you want to read some amazing ItaSaku stuff.
As always, you know that I love hearing what you guys have to say. Anddd if you're going to be kind enough to leave some sort of review, any birthday wishes would be loved dearly. I'm going to be seventeen on Thursday!
Last but not least: to everybody who celebrates it, I sincerely hope you all have a very, very happy Thanksgiving. :)
