Title: cabbage patch

Author: paws-bells

Beta-ed by: MelissaRose85

Characters/Pairing: Haruno Sakura and Uchiha Itachi

Type: Continuous (InComplete)

Genre: Romance/General/Humor

Word Count: 11000

Theme: LJ Community, 50-shinobi theme #23, cabbage patch

Rating: T (Contains content not suitable for children)

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto-san.

Summary: Non-massacre AU. Their story began long before anyone could realize it. The story of a little pink-haired girl child, and a stoic young boy.

Created on: 25/11/11

Completed on: 08/12/11

Chapter Last Revised on: 14/03/13

Chapter Ten

It was peaceful for awhile; the horizons were quiet and tranquil, the days passed lazily and the nights were cool and soothing.

Life went on as usual, people continued to live their lives blithely, Konoha still thrived and prospered, unflinchingly and unapologetically protecting and sheltering her villagers. Nothing had changed except for the perception of an increasingly jaded Itachi, and even then, within a matter of days, those events that had triggered the upheavals in his life quickly fell into perspective for the bluntly rational prodigy. What had happened had happened, and could not be altered since it was in the past, so there was no point fixating on it, and the time was better spent preparing for what was to come in the future.

Within a couple of weeks the young Uchiha was almost functioning as per normal, his increased responsibilities in ANBU as Captain and now apprentice to the shousui serving to take up his attention completely. His clan had been pleased to accept the formal request of apprenticeship on his behalf, knowing full well that behind the unexpectedly generous offer lay the possibility of their heir's eventual succession to ANBU fukushousui, and once again, the clan elders had ordered him to do his duty by his bloodline, to push himself even harder than before, to do everything possible to achieve that coveted title.

Attending that last clan meeting had been particularly difficult for him—he had never enjoyed being summoned before the presence of the clan elders in the first place, and now burdened with the knowledge that Uchiha Madara had seen fit to impart to him, the experience was nearly unbearable. He was growing distinctly disconnected and uncomfortable around the members of his clan; he didn't want to think about it when he was around them, but he could not control his sharp discerning mind and acutely observant senses that seemed to work on their own without his directive, instinctively analyzing his own blood kin with the same methodical, systematic techniques he used to hunt down nukenin and complete his missions, wondering about their motives and silently scrutinizing their actions, where every unusual behavior was immediately noted down and brought into question, trying to figure out—are you the innocent, or are you the traitor?

He didn't want to do this to his own relatives, but he had been too well trained as a warrior and a ninja, his already inborn analytic abilities further honed so finely that he just could not help himself. Look underneath the underneath, the instructors had always taught their students in the Academy; as if the blinkers covering his eyes all these while had just been suddenly removed, he was looking now and, to his dismay, he could not stop. It was partly for that reason that he started to avoid his own parents like the plague, afraid to see the truth, not daring to look at them for too long because he silently feared that he would discern something that he did not want to see, never wanted to know.

The transition to accept and live with the knowledge of his clan's dishonor was difficult—Uchiha Madara was right; the price of knowing had been steep, and he was paying for it even now, was reminded of it at every turn. He was struggling internally to deal with it as best as he could, and even though he still appeared outwardly the same—reserved and emotionally withdrawn, perhaps a bit more distant than usual—he felt nowhere as calm and as sedate as he looked. Surely, that would change with time. His knowledge was still new, he reasoned logically; he just needed a bit more time for it to settle, and then—

Then, disaster struck.

Not one month into Itachi's new understanding of his clan, where he was beginning to take it all in stride, Shisui, his cousin, his stupidly careless, idiotically selfless cousin—

He found the older male in one of the Uchiha private training grounds that afternoon, battered, bleeding, mortally injured.

They were supposed to meet at the usual spot nearby along the Naka river; his older relative had arranged the meeting a few days ago, claiming that there was something very important that Itachi needed to know, but when the usually punctual nin failed to show up for two hours, alarm bells went off in Itachi's head. The young ANBU Captain had gone off in search for the other Uchiha then, and when he finally found his kin, partially hidden behind a low, crumbling wall at the far end of the most deserted training area of their clan, his chakra completely suppressed and his presence near undetectable safe for the faint, barely disturbed surroundings that had revealed his trail to the exceptionally astute heir, dread pooled in Itachi's stomach at the sight of his cousin.

Shisui's right eye was swollen shut and he was bleeding profusely; there was blood everywhere, the heavy smell of it saturating the air, so sickeningly sweet that, even from a short distance away, Itachi could almost taste the nauseating metallic taint on his tongue. A brief, preliminary observation of his cousin's physical condition told him that Shisui was in very bad shape, his dark-colored clothes soaked through with blood, his chest and stomach perforated with numerous, deep, stab wounds from at least three different types of bladed weapons—tanto, ninjato, wakizashi—implying that the older male had likely faced off with numerous attackers skilled enough to take him down. The serious wounds that he sustained were horrifically graphic in nature, he had been carved into like a butchered animal and his vital points deliberately targeted and attacked by the lethal blades with methodical, precise artistry—those deadly strikes were not meant to just temporarily incapacitate, but to kill.

Itachi could see the hemorrhaging, perforated internal organs of his cousin through some of the larger tears in his mangled flesh, could see the off white of ribs under the crimson smears of blood and shredded muscle tissue, could hear the painful, desperate rattle of plasma-filled lungs as Shisui struggled to regulate his breathing, and even though this was not first time he had witnessed such extensive injuries on a person, had seen worse, had inflicted worse, on his opponents on the battlefield, the younger Uchiha recognized the signs for what they were—his cousin would not likely survive his injuries.

Still, Itachi went quickly to Shisui's side, crouching by the older nin and automatically performing basic field first aid, keeping his hands busy as he tried his best to staunch the massive blood flow even as his mind struggled to accept the inevitable conclusion he had just reached. He had seen comrades die before, teammates falling to the blades of the enemies that they had failed to kill, some of the deaths mercifully quick and relatively painless, whereas others messy and excruciating. He had born the vacant gazes of deceased Leaf-nin, had endured the delirious, tortured cries of soon-to-be-departed colleagues, their injuries too far gone to be saved, but yet still lucid enough to scream feverishly for their loved ones till the very end, begging to see them if only for one last time. Nobody wanted to die on a mission, but Death was a lover that every reluctant ninja had no choice but to eventually embrace, and this time was no exception.

But this was Shisui, his cousin, the one whom he had always looked to as an older brother, whom he had respected and trusted, who understood him the most in their twisted, complicated family, and Itachi was nowhere near ready or prepared to see his goofy, idiotic relative brutally laid out like this, dying. That realization made him feel as if he had just been forced to swallow a lead ball whole and it was lodged in his gut, cold and heavy.

Shisui eyed the blank, stoic features of his clan's heir and smirked wearily. It just figured that Itachi would still look as impassive as always even now, unflappable and immovable as a mountain and always dependable in a crisis.

"Heh…I knew that you'd be the only one to find me," he rasped, flinching at the incredible effort it took just to speak. God, he hurt like a motherfucker.

His young cousin glanced at him briefly, something like regret and sadness flickering past his dark eyes, gone as quickly as it had appeared, before he looked down and returned his attention resolutely back to stabilizing his relative's swiftly deteriorating condition.

"Save your strength, Shisui," Itachi spoke quietly, steadily. "I will transport you to the hospital after I lessen the blood flow." His expression was deliberately schooled, showing no signs of panic or distress. This was not the first time he had performed triage and emergency first aid on a dying ally and it would not be the last; it was obscenely easy to fall back on his experience, stubbornly clutching onto his fraying composure as he forced himself to go through the motions with deathly calm, near mechanical exactness. His bloodstained hands shook faintly from the effort, but most importantly, Shisui did not notice the fine tremors.

Distantly, Itachi recalled the first time he witnessed a teammate fall from battle, the man's torso nearly severed at the waist from a deadly Fuuton jutsu; the Uchiha heir had been a rookie recruit following Hatake-taichou on a mission and he had watched as the silver-haired Captain remained calmly by the dying ANBU's side in the aftermath of the fierce skirmish, an unwavering source of quiet composure even as the rest of the team soundlessly waited for their comrade's demise, praying that the end would come quickly for the suffering nin. In the guise of keeping watch, the other masked warriors had avoided looking at the stark reminder of their own vulnerable humanity—so strong and invincible one moment, but easily snuffed out like a guttering flame the next—but Itachi had watched unflinchingly as his Captain soothed his dying subordinate in a strangely peaceful, assuring manner that was so completely foreign from their harsh, violent way of life. That ANBU had died soon enough, but Itachi had never forgot that experience.

"This is the only comfort we can offer," the legendary Inu of the ANBU forces had explained simply to Itachi at the end of the assignment. "If possible, no one should die alone and in fear, especially not one of our own."

Itachi understood that sentiment, and had tried to follow it to the best of his abilities. He had just never expected that he would have to practice it on his own cousin so soon.

Shisui shook his head slightly, his mouth smeared with the blood that he had coughed up. "Don't bother, kid," he muttered raggedly. "We both know that I'm not going to make it, and even if you do get me to the hospital in time, he probably already has people waiting there ready to take me out, so I'm a dead man either way."

There was only wry acceptance of his fate in the older Uchiha's tone; he had already come to terms with his own impending death in the time that he had been waiting here for Itachi and was inwardly finalizing his arrangements in preparation for it.

Itachi stilled completely, his eyes piercing his cousin's. "Who?" the raven-haired ANBU demanded in a harsh whisper, his hard voice belying the composure that he portrayed. "Who dares to… Elder Shimura. Is it him?"

Shisui grimaced. "I underestimated that old bastard," the badly wounded male gasped out, his already pale, perspiring face turning bone white as Itachi forcibly shoved a chunk of chakra into his body. It was a last resort attempt that usually did more harm than good, damaging the chakra coils of the recipient in return for temporarily boosting his lagging vitals, but Shisui was grateful for the briefly returning strength in his body once the agony started to ebb slightly. "Thanks," he coughed even as blood leaked out from the corner of his lips. "Danzo tried to take my eyes. I took exception to that. Tried to dope me with chakra suppressors, but still failed to get what he wanted. You should have seen the look on his face when I blasted my way out of his little hidey hole."

His eyes, or rather, the one that was still visible, glowed a raw crimson with their family bloodline, but the usual three tomoe that were suspended in the iris around the pupil were warped into a four pointed pinwheel instead, making it very obvious that this was no normal Sharingan. Mangekyo. Itachi had noticed the advanced form from the very beginning, but had chosen to ignore the unexpected discovery in favor of focusing on his relative's physical condition instead. The Uchiha stared at his older cousin.

"Those cursed eyes are more trouble than they are worth," the teen stately flatly at last, and Shisui had to crack a smile at that. Trust the kid to go straight to the heart of the matter, swiftly pointing out the crux of the issue. And it was that comment that sealed the older Uchiha's decision, assured him that he was making the right choice. Itachi would never abuse the power given to him, well too aware of the terrible costs that it would incur.

"Perhaps," the older male agreed gradually. "But I want you to develop the Mangekyo, Itachi, using me as your sacrifice."

The Uchiha heir stiffened.

"No." His reply was immediate and unflinching. "I do not want any part of that madness."

Shisui did not relent. "You may not want it, but you will need it," he insisted fiercely. "You have no choice in this matter; our enemies will come for us soon enough and you will need all the power you can get your hands on in order to face them."

"I can gain the strength that I need on my own," Itachi refuted stubbornly, and his older relative just shook his head. Time was quickly running out for him and he had to convince the younger Uchiha to agree to his intention before it was too late.

"I know that you can, Itachi, but do you have all the time in the world to do so? You don't!" Shisui rasped sharply, hissing as his harsh reply further aggravated his injuries. "You are a ninja; even if you hate it, even if you don't want it, you must put your own feelings aside and use every tool in your disposal to protect Konoha!"

Itachi flinched at the rebuke, his stoic persona wearing off slightly as he looked visibly pained. "Don't force me to do this, Shisui," the teen whispered at last, almost pleading.

"You don't have to do anything but watch," Shisui pointed out in return, deadly calm. "I'm already dying."

Itachi did not reply; the boy was quite obviously tense and slowly growing agitated.

"Activate your Sharingan," his cousin ordered then. Itachi closed his eyes and bowed his head, looking as though he would not heed Shisui's command. Then, the older nin sighed tiredly and tried again, using a softer approach this time. "Please, I have never asked anything of you before. You are the only one I trust with this responsibility."

That quiet tone proved to be Itachi's undoing, and against his better judgment, against his very being that was screaming at him not to do it, he wordlessly turned on his kekkei genkai at Shisui's request. The raven-haired ANBU Captain opened his eyes once more, and this time, his formerly onyx gaze blazed a stark crimson. His features blanked, and he forced himself to straighten slightly, silently accepting the inevitable.

"Don't beg, Shisui," Itachi spoke at last with a composure he did not entirely feel. "It does not become you."

In response, a small smirk formed on Shisui's bloodstained lips. "Arrogant brat," he rejoined with quiet, grateful fondness, and even that small effort took a lot out of him. His breathing was harsh and rapid, every draw of air an act of agony that burned like liquid fire through his air passage and lungs, the wet, rattling sounds that accompanied his every inhalation and exhalation downright painful and unpleasant to hear. The two cousins fell into a brief silence; Itachi had done everything he could for Shisui, there was nothing else left to do but to wait, and that was the hardest part of all.

"You must be careful of Danzo. Be very wary around him," Shisui eventually spoke again with much difficulty, after he re-gathered his thoughts and willed the ever constant fog out of his mind. It was getting harder and harder to think; the pain of his body was a constant distraction and the severe blood loss was making everything feel fuzzy and surreal. His senses were beginning to dull and it was a constant struggle not to give in to the ever encroaching darkness that encircled his vision. "Don't underestimate him like I did, Itachi, or it will be the last thing you ever do."

Itachi responded to the warning with a short nod.

"My death," Shisui urged. "Use it…and every advantage…to curtail his plans. But don't…reveal your knowledge until the time is right. Guard yourself carefully, Itachi," he was panting and slurring slightly from the strain of speaking so rapidly, his blood-filled lungs barely able to absorb enough oxygen to support his failing speech and rapidly deteriorating organs. Numbness was setting in with a vengeance, his extremities had already lost all sense of feeling, and he was quickly moving onto the rambling stage. Shisui forced the words out of his mouth as quickly as he dared. "My eyes…I entrust to you, you will need them in time…use them to…protect…Konoha…"

His lone eye, the one not swollen shut, pinned Itachi's own crimson ones with a raw, fierce, desperation borne from the knowledge that he was dying and that he had to pass on his will so that it would live on. His shaking, blood smeared hand reached out to grab at the shirt front of the Uchiha heir with the last semblance of his fading strength. "Promise…Itachi. You will do it no matter what! Promise me!"

Itachi did not waver. He did not look away from the burning gaze of his older relative, he simply nodded once more. "I promise, Shisui," he vowed firmly but quietly. "I will dedicate my life to the protection and safety of our village and clan."

The steadfast affirmation seemed to assure the mortally injured nin. Itachi would never go back on his word. He relaxed his hold on Itachi to slump back against the wall, hacking roughly, turning his head to the side as he unceremoniously spat out a small glob of blood that had rushed up his throat. Through it all, Itachi watched silently, a steady, unflinching presence by his side that was strangely reassuring to Shisui as they both waited for Death to claim him. Most boys at Itachi's age would have been in a highly unstable, volatile state by now, horrified, visibly upset and thoroughly shaken, but the Uchiha heir did not react thusly. His young, stress-lined face looked like it was set in stone and he was completely stoic even though his crimson eyes showed his inner turmoil and mute sorrow.

It was Itachi's quiet compassion that easily set him apart from the rest of the Uchiha, and it was that same kindness, that thoughtful selflessness that made the teen remain staunchly at the side of his dying cousin, agreeing to fulfill each and every of his kin's last wishes and concealing his own grief and pain so that Shisui would not have to be burdened by him in his final moments.

It was the only comfort he could offer.

"I'm sorry, little cousin," the older Uchiha whispered at last, his voice nearly inaudible, his strength nearly depleted. Guilt and regret laced his words and expression even as he fought a losing battle against a body that was rapidly shutting down. "I wasn't strong enough. I wanted…to help…you more; we would rebuild the clan…together, but now…you are going to have to do it…alone."

The back of Itachi's eyes started to burn, prickling fiercely at the sight of Shisui's fading condition. It was beginning. He refused to even blink, to take his attention off the other Uchiha for even a single moment. His unwavering Sharingan recorded every minute of this exchange. Shisui continued to speak, forcing words out of his mouth by sheer willpower alone if nothing else, determined to say his piece before he could never do so again.

"But you know…what? I know you'd do…just fine even without me, kid. Never…give up, Itachi. Show me the…Konoha that we have always…dreamed about," Shisui's eye started to slip close, his eyesight long since gone, the agonized grimace that constantly occupied his expression slowly starting to ease off.

"I will be watching, I promise…"

There and then, Shisui's slow, ragged breathing faltered, stalled, and then just completely ceased. His cousin died with a small smile on his face, and despite his violent demise, had looked as if he had managed to shed all the pain and burdens of the mortal world, and was at peace.

For one short moment in time, Itachi felt as though he had stopped breathing as well, had died alongside Shisui. The teen stared at his recently deceased relative, now lying in a coagulating pool of his own life fluids, his body mangled and lifeless, nothing left there but an empty shell, a cooling corpse that was no different from the many others he had seen before. The older shinobi had been more than blood kin; he had also been a close friend, a good teacher, a trusted comrade—and now he was simply gone. Itachi was frozen, his face blank, and the pressure building in his eyes was overwhelming by now, throbbing and pulsating almost in synchrony with the grief he felt growing in his chest, and still kneeling at Shisui's side, he closed them and bowed his head, exhaling harshly, welcoming the pain that seemed to bloom behind his lids, as if a thousand needles were being jabbed into his eyeballs. The urge to claw madly at his hated, cursed, eyes was strong, to throw his head back and scream in impotent fury and pain, he didn't want this, why must things happen this way, it was unfair, but he bore through the turmoil stoically, silently biting his lips till they bled. The excruciating discomfort of the transition to Mangekyo served as fleeting distraction for his acute emotional distress, but could hardly compete with the intensity of his inner torment.

He did not know how long he had remained there in that small corner of the abandoned training ground, but eventually, even the physical pain started to ebb, and then became no more. His common sense firmly reasserted itself, forcibly reminding him of the pressing matters that required his immediate attention, cold, precise logic dictating that he had no time to waste lingering around mourning the selflessness of a nin whose true actions and cause of death only he would know. Nobody else would realize the magnitude of Shisui's silent sacrifice—it was the highest honor for most nin to die in battle for one's country, but his cousin would be denied even that small distinction.

For the sake of keeping his knowledge of Danzo's treachery a secret to be revealed only at the most opportune time, the true cause of Shisui's death could not be known, and would have to be doctored to indicate otherwise. The older nin had not been on a mission prior to the attack, so his extensive injuries would raise alarm amongst the Konoha-nin and prompt a deeper investigation which could not be allowed to come to pass. There was only one option left to Itachi, and as much as it hurt to dishonor the memory of the cousin he so greatly respected, it had to be done.

Itachi did not want to open his eyes, knowing full well that the moment he did, the world that he had once known would never be the same again. But he had no choice in the matter; even though his first instinct was to hide like a coward and try to pretend that everything was alright, he had obligations to fulfill, duties to perform and he could not shirk them. They weighed down on him irrepressibly, forcing him to deal with the situation, and after expelling a shuddering breath of air, he grabbed hold of them resolutely, centering himself with the determined focus of what he had to do.

Dark lashes slowly parted, revealing for the first time the unique design of his new irises. A three-pointed, sleekly stylized pinwheel, coldly elegant in its simplicity, had replaced the tomoe in his Sharingan, his pupils no longer black, but an angry, intense red, and due to the newly granted sense of advanced perception from the upgrade of his kekkei genkai, the world was unexpectedly beautiful through his new eyes, the colors sharper and so much more vivid than he had ever thought possible, vibrant and alive.

Raw, untested potential burned, raged, in bloody, bladed crimson.

He felt sick to his stomach.

It wasn't supposed to be this way; he was not supposed to be rewarded with some new special abilities just by standing and watching the death of someone close to him, it was vile and degrading, and it felt as though his pain had just been made a mockery of. Dark, helpless anger festered in his being. His entire bloodline was wrong, perverted, and in the heat of the moment, a part of him felt like gouging out those eyes in his head in unthinking resentment, but his coldly practical instincts promptly checked his rash urges.

He would need the abilities of the Mangekyo eventually, and besides, it was the gift borne from Shisui's sacrifice, one of the two legacies that his cousin had passed to him, and he could never bring himself to destroy it no matter how much he was coming to abhor his bloodline limit, the sordid, despicable nature of its conception that had caused so much hatred, strife and needless bloodshed.

For Konoha. For Uchiha. And now, for Shisui as well. He would carry their ideals, their hopes, and carry on, because it was the only thing left that he could do, and he would persevere.

And right now, there was work to do.

Slipping soundlessly into his impartial, ANBU mindset, Itachi got to his feet almost mechanically and moved back a respectful distance from his cousin's body. There, he knelt back down onto the ground and swiftly adopted a formal, seiza position, his pale face blank, his hands splayed on his thighs, the line of his spine unforgivingly straight, his posture perfect, every bit the Uchiha clan heir. Then, he performed the dogeza, moving his hands to the ground before him, fingers and palm pressed flat onto the dirt floor, his thumbs and index touching, forming the shape of the triangle in between. Stiffly, he bowed deeply at the waist, head lowered in deference until his nose touched the ground.

It was the ultimate form of respect that Itachi could offer, and the least that Shisui deserved.

The teenage Captain remained in the position for an entire minute, and then he straightened, his eyes fixed on the peaceful features of his relative. "Thank you for giving me yet another means to protect our village with," he uttered softly. "Rest, Shisui. I won't fail you in your expectations."

He proceeded to fulfill the first part of his promise with near clinical, methodical efficiency. His cousin's eyes were extracted and sealed away, and a powerful Genjutsu was cast over the body to conceal all signs of physical damage that the former had sustained in the fight with Danzo's men. The injuries on the eye sockets were made to look self-inflicted, as if Shisui had destroyed his Sharingan to prevent them from being stolen by outsiders, and Itachi forged a suicide note in exact replica of his deceased kin's handwriting, tucking the letter into Shisui's clothes to be found by whoever would discover the corpse. The blood and traces of other organic matter around them were promptly destroyed with a large, concentrated blast of Goukakyuu, and at last, the Uchiha heir silently transported his cousin to the bank of the Naka River, the sole member of this sad funeral cortege, and quietly, respectfully, slipped the limp unmoving body into the gently flowing waters.

The river currents started to carry away Shisui's corpse lazily, and through it all, the ANBU Captain watched until the body drifted out of his sight.

It was done.

He silently wept. For his cousin, for himself, for everything that had gone wrong.

Blood leaked from those accursed eyes.

Tears of the sinned. Tears of the damned.

Haruno Miharu leaned against the wall of her living room and absently sipped from the mug of tea on her hand as she watched her young daughter slave over the little square sheets of colored paper strewn all over their coffee table.

The pink-haired girl was entirely focused on her task, her small hands gently folding the origami paper, making absolutely sure that the edges were perfectly aligned, that every crease and every fold were as neat and as tidy as her eight year old self could manage it. She had suffered many a paper cut on those little fingers as a result of her painstaking meticulousness, but the end product made it all worth the pain in her opinion. The child had memorized the patterns of her art by now, and she patiently followed each step with unerring dedication, and slowly but surely, a delicate, beautiful paper crane came to life under her fingers. The little girl next checked it for any signs of imperfection, and when she saw none, she smiled softly at her handiwork, briefly admiring the harmoniously symmetrical shape of the tiny origami crane before carefully setting it aside with the rest of its brethren, all seven hundred and eighty nine of them.

There were only two hundred and eleven more to go, and then her little project would finally be completed.

Senbazuru. One thousand origami cranes.

Sakura had been hard at work folding those cranes for over a month now, dedicating every bit of spare time she had on those little pieces of paper, and it looked as if her labors would soon come to an end. Miharu still remembered the day she came home and saw her daughter sitting on the floor of their living room, surrounded by colorful origami paper and clumsily teaching herself how to fold paper cranes with the tiny instruction sheet that came with the paper set that she had bought with her humble weekly allowance. Surprised by her child's sudden interest in the origami art, the older Haruno had asked to know why Sakura had wanted to fold cranes.

The little girl told her mother that Ino-chan had recently shared with her the legend of the Senbazuru, of how anyone who folded a thousand paper cranes could have a wish granted by the mystical crane, and thus, she had wanted to do it as well. Miharu had also heard of the folklore before; there weren't many who hadn't, and pleasantly amused by her daughter's earnestness, she had proceeded to teach the little girl how to fold a perfect crane, showing the child the various little tricks to do so.

"Sakura, are you really sure you don't want my help?" Miharu offered not for the first time since that day over a month ago. Her daughter had been adamantly insistent on folding the thousand cranes by herself, and after she had gotten the hang of the pattern with a few test tries, she had gone on to do just that, completely undaunted by the challenging task that she had set out for herself to accomplish. Miharu had just smiled and allowed her daughter to do as she pleased, half expecting that the child would lose interest in her project midway like most children tended to do once the novelty of it wore off, but now it seemed that the pink-haired girl was going to get her Senbazuru done, after all.

Sakura reached for another piece of origami paper and started to fold, at the same time shaking her head in negative reply in response to her mother's offer. "No, mama," the little girl answered even as her fingers carefully and steadily pressed the colored paper into perfect geometrical shapes and designs, dutifully following the steps that would eventually lead to her seven hundred and ninetieth crane. "I must do them all by myself, or they won't count."

Her little girl was as serious and as conscientious as ever, and Miharu hid her smile behind yet another sip of her tea. Mother watched child for another short moment, and then she asked. "What wish are you going to make, Sakura?"

The pink-haired eight year old paused slightly at the question, and then she shook her head, raising her head to glance briefly at her mother. "I'm not going to make the wish, Kaa-san," the little girl divulged honestly.

A blonde eyebrow swept up at the unexpected reply. "You don't want the wish?" Miharu asked.

The child nodded quickly, then thought about her reply and shook her head once more. She scrunched her nose slightly, momentarily confused by the ambiguity of her own answers. Miharu's small smile widened a tad at her daughter's actions. Sakura promptly caught her mother in the act. "Mama, you are teasing me!" the little girl accused with a small huff, pausing briefly from her origami folding to scowl cutely at her softly laughing parent. Miharu shook her head in surrender and pushed away from the wall to approach her daughter, setting the mug aside and lowering herself to sit on the floor beside the young girl. The older Haruno drew an arm around her daughter and pulled the child to her in a loose hug, planting a smiling kiss on the child's cheek.

"Hush, my little one, I didn't mean to make fun of you," Miharu soothed lovingly. Sakura clearly accepted the apology, for the pink-haired girl snuggled briefly into her mother's warm embrace with no complaints. "Well, if you are not going to use the wish, I take it you are going to let someone else have it instead?"

Unsurprisingly, her daughter nodded enthusiastically against her. "Yup!"

The beautiful blonde woman smiled. She had a good guess just who would be the lucky recipient to Sakura's dedication.

"Hmm, someone precious?" Miharu teased gently. Once again, her daughter, much too young to experience shyness over such matters, nodded again.

"Yup!" The child reiterated firmly, and before Miharu could continue her guessing game, Sakura gave her an answer. "I'm going to give the Senbazuru to Itachi-kun!"

"Oh?" Miharu feigned surprise. "Him? Why?"

At her question, Sakura stared at her mother in a manner as if surprised that she even had to ask. "Because I really, really want Itachi-kun to be happy, that's why! Itachi-kun always looks so sad, so I want to share some of my happiness with him!" It sounded completely logical to the young girl, and she nodded decisively to herself and continued to declare earnestly. "I am happy to be Haruno Sakura; I have my Kaa-san, I have Ino-chan, Naruto, Sasuke, and I have Itachi-kun as well. I'm really happy with what I have. I don't need that wish, but Itachi-kun needs it more, so I will give it to him instead. He can wish for anything he wants and be happy again. That will be nice, right, Kaa-san?"

It was such an innocent, idealistic notion that only a pure hearted child could make, and Sakura was smiling hopefully at her mother as she said it. Miharu felt very proud of her little girl, and she quickly showed it by hugging the child tightly to herself once more, exaggeratedly placing another loud kiss on her forehead. Sakura erupted in giggles, and her mother rested her chin on the top of her daughter's head. "Shiawase, huh? Sweetie, I think Itachi-kun will be very happy to receive your gift."

Inwardly, Miharu wondered if this was a sign of what was to come in the future. After all, the creation of a thousand paper cranes was also a powerful symbol of love and dedication, and although her little Sakura was still years too young to be professing such sentiments to a member of the opposite gender, the fact that she had chosen to present the Senbazuru to Itachi-kun already spoke for itself, really.

Of all the boys she knew, Sakura had still instinctively gravitated to the Uchiha heir, and it seemed that the bond between the two of was going to grow even stronger as they grew older. Miharu still did not know if that was a good thing or not. If her child really did end up together with the powerful and talented ANBU in the future, then the road ahead for her daughter was going to be tough and fraught with difficulties at every turn. But…

Something told Miharu that Sakura would find all the sacrifices worth it in the end, in the pursuit of her own happiness.

"Mama?" Sakura asked then, tilting her head up slightly to look at her pensive parent. Her mother's violet eyes were distant and faraway, and the insightful pink-haired child recognized that look. It was the same expression the older Haruno wore whenever Sakura asked about her Otou-san. "Are you happy too? Shall I make you the Senbazuru as well?"

Miharu glanced down at her pride and joy. Sakura looked so concerned then, and the beautiful blonde shook her head slightly and lovingly sifted her fingers through her baby's fine, silk spun pink hair. "Don't be silly, my dear," Miharu spoke tenderly to her only child, whose bright emerald eyes was the exact same color as that of her father's. Like their daughter, he had always been extremely astute and perceptive as well. "I have been lucky; I have you in my life, Sakura. I'm very, very happy." Miharu dropped another kiss, this time on the top of Sakura's head. "Thank you for being my daughter, little one. Always remember that your Kaa-san loves you very much no matter what happens, alright?"

Sakura stared at her mother with those large doe eyes of hers, and then she hugged the older female tightly with her skinny arms and cuddled right into her embrace. "I love you too, mama. Thank you for being my Mother."

Miharu was content at that moment. It was rare that mother and daughter had time to spend together like this. She continued to stroke her child's hair and briefly allowed the girl to curl up next to her, separating only when she noticed the shallow, untreated paper cuts that Sakura had sustained most recently. She nudged at the eight year old, gently fingering Sakura's hands. "Well, let's get these wounds cleaned up first. We will put plasters on them after you are done folding your cranes. It'd be harder for you to do so if I apply the Band-Aids now, hm?" Sakura nodded in agreement, and Miharu got to her feet and coaxed her daughter to do so as well.

"Mama, can you help me string the cranes together later?" Sakura asked as she followed her mother into the kitchenette.

"Of course, my dear."

One week later, the pink-haired eight year old shyly presented the fruits of her labor to her friend.

Six weeks' worth of painstaking effort and dedication had gone into the creation of the forty strings of multi-colored paper cranes that had been arranged in progressive shades of the rainbow, their individual length nearly as tall as her height, the exquisite, delicate origami birds flowing like a beautiful waterfall of colors from the small, clenched hand of the young girl who had poured so much of her time and heart into making them, and she gently extended her arm out towards the raven-haired Uchiha, wordlessly asking that he accept her small offering.

"It's for you," she told him with a bright, hopeful smile, her large green eyes running carefully over his pale, distant features, the happy excitement she got from the joy of giving dimming slightly with anxiety at his blank, remote expression. Sakura had tried her best to pretend otherwise, but it seemed to her that the boy whom she had known since the age of four was slowly changing before her eyes—becoming colder, emptier—in a way that she did not quite understand, but still it was enough to worry her and make her afraid—not of him, never of him, but afraid that if he continued to be this way, then something bad would really happen to him, and she didn't want that for her most precious friend.

She wanted to help, she had always wanted so badly to help, but she didn't know what to do, how to tell him that she was willing to do anything for him if only he'd teach her. She knew that she was only a silly little girl, still too young and not very strong, even the sensei in the Academy had said so, but she would try her best to improve herself and get better—not become so weak—if that was what she had to do. She had wanted to be a ninja because she had wanted to be like Itachi-kun in the first place, to be able to help and protect people in need, but this road that she had chosen for herself had not been an easy one to follow. Despite her excellent bookwork and memorization skills, she was terrible when it came to improving her physical abilities; the basic Academy taijutsu that the instructors had recently began to teach in school was very difficult for her to learn even as her classmates seemed to pick it up easily enough, and running laps around the school field took so much out of her since her stamina was practically nonexistent. It was hard; learning to become a ninja was very hard, but…

But if it was for the sake of those she cared about, then the young girl decided that perhaps she could do it. No matter how difficult it would get, as long as she was needed, then she would grit her teeth and tough it out; she would never give up.

The Senbazuru was just a small start—it was not much and it was all she could do for him now—but maybe, just maybe, if Itachi-kun felt that she was useful enough, then perhaps he would let her in on his secrets, then she would know why he was always so unhappy, and she could finally know what she had to do in order to be able to help him. She had watched her friend over the years, paying close attention to him the most out of the rest because unlike Naruto who liked to yell a lot and Sasuke who was always quite grumpily obvious about his dislikes, the older boy was always so quiet and gentle, and therefore she had to make the extra effort to understand him better. Even though Itachi-kun didn't speak much and he also wasn't very expressive, Sakura had learned to read him through his eyes. Those obsidian depths often revealed his feelings, sometimes showing so much sadness that Sakura didn't understand why no one else would see it and help him.

Lately though, even that was changing, and that worried her greatly. It was becoming harder for her to 'see' him, if that was the correct way to describe what was happening. Sakura didn't know how to properly explain her growing unease, but it felt as if Itachi-kun was slowly being encased in ice, becoming so emotionless and frozen, pulling away, and the astute young girl was inexplicably afraid that one day, he would be so far gone that she would never be able to find him again and he would never come back. That possibility scared Sakura like nothing else could, and as such, she was determined to do whatever she had to in order to stop that before it could happen.

Meanwhile, Itachi stared blankly at the paper cranes that hung off the eight year old's fingers. The tiny origami birds cascaded to the floor in a river of bright, optimistic colors, each one perfectly formed and hinted at the amount of care and effort that had been poured into their creation. The meticulous attention to detail was obvious; even with a brief glance, it was plain to see that the edges were precise and every fold flawlessly in place. There had to be hundreds of the paper cranes in the young girl's hand, and he could only guess how long it must have taken to make so many of them.

He didn't understand why she was giving these to him.

Dark onyx eyes flickered to meet slightly anxious verdant ones. It seemed that he had taken too long to respond to the offer of her gift, and his ensuing silence had made her uneasy. He made an effort to rectify his oversight.

"…Did you make them yourself?" he asked at last.

Sakura nodded. "I did! Kaa-san helped me string them together though. I made them for you," she replied almost shyly towards the end. She looked at him carefully, and then firmly pushed the results of her hard work towards him once more. "Take them, please? Ino-chan said that they are very powerful lucky charms, and I want you to have them, and the wish as well."

His hand, which had lifted slowly, curiously, to receive her unusual present, paused at her strange remark. "Wish?"

She nodded once more, responding to his obvious incomprehension. "Whoever folds one thousand paper cranes will get a wish granted to them; that's the legend of the Senbazuru!" the pink-haired child explained to her friend with complete faith in her young voice. "I folded the cranes so that I can give you the wish, Itachi-kun, so please accept them!" This time, Sakura grabbed Itachi's hand with her own smaller one and made him take the origami birds, and the Uchiha heir automatically closed his fingers around the threads. He did not appear to register what he had done because he was quietly stunned by the girl's unexpected admission.

Sakura was not fazed, however. Her eyes brightened with hope when she saw the brief surprise that flitted past his previously closed off, remote expression. "Why?" he demanded abruptly, almost harshly, his gaze falling to land upon the plasters that were wrapped around the tips of her fingers. Sakura quickly noticed what he was looking at and hurriedly hid her hands behind her back self-consciously. When his eyes met hers again, they were utterly focused and intent, no longer detached and impassive like before. The eight year old girl was understandably nervous and a bit startled by the sudden attention, and she bit her lower lip with slight distress. Itachi-kun had never taken that type of tone with her before. Had she done something wrong?

A part of her was slightly hurt, but in the end, the child still chose to forge on bravely. "I- I just wanted to help you, Itachi-kun," she stammered. "But I don't know what else to do! I- I don't want to watch you be sad anymore!"

The pink-haired girl's impassioned outburst caused the Uchiha heir to freeze in his tracks, but Sakura was not done yet. She lowered her head slightly then, her eyes shadowed and upset. "It makes me sad too," Sakura whispered softly. "You… Don't…hide." His eyes widened imperceptibly in shock. "Don't keep quiet and just…hurt alone. I want- I really want to help. I- I'd do anything!"

She continued to look at the floor, unwilling to lift her head to look at the older boy's reaction to her starkly honest admission. Sakura felt her eyes start to water slightly, but the child stubbornly clenched her hands into fists behind her back and refused to cry. It bothered her greatly that she could not do anything else, but she was still trying her best to support her most cherished friend in the only way that she knew how.

Itachi stared at the bowed head of the young girl before him. The teen was struck speechless by the sincerity and earnestness of Sakura's declaration. Her determination to reach out to him made something deep inside him twist with sharp discomfort, forced him to feel emotions even when he had deliberately sealed them after Shisui's death, that he had attempted to ignore and drown under an endless sea of ice in a desperate, last ditch effort to protect himself, to remain sane. But with Sakura's heartfelt and unpretentious entreaty, they broke through the barriers that he had deliberately erected to keep them at bay, stirring within him with roiling restlessness, leaving him no choice but to acknowledge their existence once more. The ANBU Captain dropped his gaze to the one thousand paper cranes that he now held in his hand; each and every one had been folded for his sake, and even though it was such a naïve sentiment, one borne from the innocence and blind faith of childhood, he was both unwilling and unable to callously dismiss the efforts of the pink-haired girl who had bled and tried to give all she could for him.

Tentatively, he examined his volatile, highly unstable feelings, and he was promptly stunned by his discovery. The overwhelming grief and guilt that had accompanied him unerring for the past few weeks, while still present, did not feel as suffocating or persistent as he had thought they would be, now overtaken by something else that was so much more powerful, and because he rarely had the opportunity to feel this way, was all the more precious and wonderful to him.

Itachi drew a sharp breath, looking faintly astounded.

Warmth. His chest burned with it.

Like always, the icy numbness growing within him easily gave way to the positive emotions that Sakura had wrought in him. There was just something about the pink-haired girl that urged him to respond to her, and this time was no different. Itachi still could not tell if the strange connection they shared was a good thing or not, but by now, it was obviously too late to reverse it. Whether intentional or not, he had fostered this bond between them for years already, instinctively gravitating to her, and just as she seemed to care for him, he was also similarly emotionally invested in her. She had never failed to bring him peace and comfort even as he had always watched over her, centering and calming him with her presence even when his life happened to be a complete mess. Just as he could not ignore her even when she was only a four year old child, he could not do so now, when she was the only respite he allowed himself to have.

It was obvious; even with his new responsibilities as apprentice, even with the added pressure of training with the Mangekyo, his heart and will faltering under the strain of his emotional turmoil—knowing full well that he was undeserving—he was still unable to let go. But it seemed that he wouldn't have to, after all. The little girl who had chosen him just as surely as he had her would never allow it.

Right now, she was still not looking at him, but that was alright. Slowly, Itachi crouched down before the shorter child and carefully reached out to her with his hand. His fingers ghosted lightly down the line of her jaw and then he gently gripped her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting her face up so that he could look at her. Those large, doe-like eyes of her met his reluctantly, swimming with unshed tears, her small mouth trembling with upset, but for some reason, as he looked at her innocent, girlish features, the rest of his agitation faded away, the hard, unbearable tension coiling within him relaxed inexplicably, allowing him to breathe properly once more.

It was going to be alright; something within him—instincts and growing understanding, perhaps—assured with quiet conviction. As long as he was here, in Konoha, as long as he remained grounded, never lost sight of his goals and promises, it would be alright.

A peaceful calmness slowly filtered across his senses, followed by a feeling of wry affection towards the young girl standing before him, who was once again crying on his behalf. It was quickly becoming an alarming occurrence between them. "Don't cry," he told her softly then, and not for the first time. "I like your present. You must have worked very hard. Thank you."

At his astute, understanding comment, the waterworks really started flowing with a vengeance then, and without hesitation, she reached for him, curled her arms around his neck, and quietly bawled into his shoulder. He let the strings of origami birds fall soundlessly onto the floor as he automatically wrapped his own arms around her smaller frame. Her hands clenched tightly onto the fabric of his shirt and he patiently allowed her to cry for awhile, carefully petting her soft pink hair as she did so. She eventually cried herself dry, the tears stopping and the sniffles abating, and at last the embarrassed child pulled away from him slightly, looking ashamed of herself.

"Sorry," she apologized dejectedly. "Kaa-san always says that I'm such a crybaby."

He looked at her; her nose red from crying, her startlingly long eyelashes wet with tears. An unusually whimsical thought occurred to him then, that the child looked strangely attention catching like that. "Everyone cries," he merely told her, and in response, she tilted her head slightly to stare at him, mild curiosity creeping into her lush verdant eyes.

"Even you, Itachi-kun?" she asked.

He thought about the last time he cried, that day where he had paid the steep price in exchange for the Mangekyo, the memory still fresh in his mind, and once again, he felt the lump in his throat start to grow, his insides coalescing to ice. "Yes," he replied quietly. "Even me."

Something in his gaze must have alerted her to his growing melancholy, for she instinctively raised her fingers to touch his pallid, strained face, carefully tracing the heavy lines of stress under his eyes. Then, much to his surprise, she leaned in unexpectedly and carefully kissed the back of his eyelids, one after the other, before pulling back once more, looking at him shyly. He stiffened slightly, stunned. He was not used to such physical contact, and as such, the imprint of her warm lips pressed against his skin lingered acutely on his senses.

"I hope you feel better," she told him with innocent candor. "Kaa-san always gives me kisses when I'm sad. That always makes me happy, because when somebody kisses you, it means that they love and care for you, and that you will never be alone."

His eyes widened imperceptibly at her forthright admission. How was it possible that this young girl was always able to say and do things that never failed to raise his spirits? It was almost eerie, her level of empathy and understanding when it came to his own chaotic, tormented feelings, and by all rights, he should be very wary of her, but he was reluctant to do so since she never failed to soothe him, and he craved that rare sensation of peace that came with her with a near desperate fervor. The Uchiha closed his eyes, warring briefly with indecision before he swiftly made up his mind and tightened his arms around Sakura, tugging her near once more and wordlessly burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar, beloved scent and relishing in her wondrous company. If Sakura was surprised by his action, she did not show it. Instead, the little girl hugged him back with reciprocating affection, and he was struck by a fierce sense of realization and resolve, that this precious child was his to protect, and he would never want to let her go.

Her very being was comforting to him, reminding him of hope and warmth, and with her, he did not have to be the noble Uchiha heir, the powerful ANBU Captain, or even the child prodigy. He could just be Itachi, an ordinary thirteen year old boy, and the troubles that constantly plagued him, the never ending duties that he had to shoulder, did not seem as pressing or as suffocating when he was around her. As such, he was reluctant to let her go, as inappropriate as his action was, but he forced himself to release her a short moment later, this saving grace of his. Sitting back on his haunches, his expression was still composed as ever; there was no awkwardness or embarrassment whatsoever in his demeanor, just a complete understanding that he would do whatever it took to keep this girl. He looked at her straight in the eye. "Will you stay?" he asked shortly, and when she did not look like she understood, he proceeded to amend his question. "Are you willing to do whatever it takes to remain by my side?"

This time, Sakura did not hesitate. She nodded firmly, determination glowing in her young eyes.

"Then, you must become strong," he told her with little preamble, and she looked at him quizzically. "I cannot afford to be bonded to weakness," he told her bluntly. "If you want to stay with me, you must keep training and grow strong."

Sakura knew that her friend was a member of the ANBU forces, where only the strongest and most powerful ninjas in the village were recruited to protect Konoha. Itachi-kun was also from the well-known Uchiha clan who was in charge of the Konoha Military Police; he was the oldest son of the clan head and would one day have to be the leader of his family as well. Itachi-kun was a very important person. In that manner of thinking, it made sense that his friends must be useful to him, be powerful themselves as well.

"You must be at least good enough to protect yourself," he informed her firmly. "Because I have enemies and I may not always be able to protect you from them."

Her eyes lit up with understanding. He wanted her to be strong for herself, and that she could do. She nodded willingly once more. "I will do it! I will train and work hard so that I will become strong and you won't have to worry about me anymore, Itachi-kun!" she swore earnestly before pausing briefly to ask hesitantly, "Will you…help me train sometimes? A bit?"

It was apparent that she was not uneager to learn, but due to her civilian background, just lacked the appropriate materials and direction to do so. He inclined his head in agreement, and immediately, a smile blossomed on her face. "I'm glad! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Itachi-kun! I promise I won't let you down!" the young girl rushed out in her excitement, impulsively hugging her friend once more. She pulled back and looked at him earnestly. "Wait for me, Itachi-kun! One day, I will be strong enough to fight beside you, so you won't have to do it alone anymore, okay?"

Once again, she surprised him with her sincerity, and this time around, his heart skipped a beat. If he was a lesser person, her bold, selfless avowal would have caused his face to suffuse with color, never mind that she was only an eight year old at the moment—such was the undeniable effect that she had on him, even though he didn't understand why, didn't understand how. As it was, his previously distant, impassive obsidian eyes had sharpened, were now utterly focused on her, mesmerized by her conviction and the strength and purity of her heart.

An indescribable expression flitted across his face then, as he studied the innocently determined features of the young girl who had as much as declared that she would link her future to his own from now onwards. He was compelled to respond to her offer, and at last, he did so by gently fingering her cheek and then leaning in slightly towards her to place an awkwardly chaste kiss on her forehead. The exchange was purely instinctive, one borne of budding affection, and his onyx eyes were quietly watchful and pensive when he slowly drew back, whereas hers were wide and filled with wonder, and a smallest tint of rose sat high on her cheeks.

"Itachi-kun…" Sakura breathed in surprise, and in response, his gaze softened briefly.

"Your promise, I shall look forward to it," the raven-haired Uchiha replied solemnly at last, and the pink-haired girl beamed at her friend. The child remembered her present then, and she hurriedly blurted out.

"Itachi-kun! The Senbazuru; you mustn't waste it. Make the wish, okay?" She sounded so earnest and happy on his behalf, but quickly turned quizzical when he shook his head once. A part of him was tempted to bluntly tell her that wishes do not come true just because one willed it to be, but the joy in her eyes and the innocent naiveté in her aura actively prevented him from doing so. It was pure selfishness on his part, but he did not want to be the one to destroy this sweetly guileless part of her, to intentionally dim the brightness of her soul that was so rare and precious in his world. Still, he was unable to lie to her completely, trusting that she would understand.

"That wish is not mine to make, Sakura," he told her, answering her unasked question. Instead of telling her the harsh truth, he amended his reply subtly. "Wishes may only come true if you work hard to make them happen," he explained even as he inwardly thought, and sometimes they won't happen at all no matter how hard you try.

He looked at her steadily and continued. "You folded these cranes. Therefore, the wish is yours."

Sakura looked frankly bewildered by the turn of events. She had not expected the wish to be returned to her, but as always, Itachi-kun was completely logical about everything.

"But I wanted to give the wish to you…" she drifted off towards the end, before her brow furrowed slightly and she carefully considered the situation. The young girl was smart, and it didn't take long for her to figure out a loophole on her own as well. "Uhmm…Itachi-kun, in that case, if I use the wish, will you help me make it come true?" the pink-haired child asked carefully at last.

The Uchiha prodigy stared at the expectant gaze of the young girl. There was such trust and belief in him shining in those emerald depths, and she really didn't need to ask; for everything that she had done for him, the comfort and peace that she brought him, he would only be too willing to reciprocate. The young ANBU Captain nodded subtly.

"I will try my best," he promised quietly.

The sweet, joyous smile that wreathed her dainty, heart-shaped features was impossible to miss. A soft, affectionate expression crept into her large doe-like eyes then, for the shortest of moments, displaying such shy tenderness as she looked to him, and his breath caught briefly in his throat when, just for a split second, he glimpsed of the kind, beautiful woman that this girl would one day grow to become.

He stilled momentarily, his eyes locked firmly onto her. Sakura did not seem to find her friend's intent perusal of her particularly intimidating, though.

"Itachi-kun, I made the Senbazuru for you, even if you cannot make the wish." She paused then, looking a bit hesitant. "Uhmm… So is it okay if…" She shook her head and tried again, biting her lips in a mildly indecisive manner before she quickly made up her mind and bravely blurted out. "Can I wish for your…happiness…instead?"

She was looking so hopefully at him, as if he was the one who would be doing her a favor instead of the other way around. The tightness in his chest returned with a vengeance, and faintly, Itachi wondered if he was falling sick. His mouth was strangely dry and he had to make an effort to speak.

"You don't have to do that, Sakura," he started carefully, but the little girl merely smiled honestly at him and replied.

"I know, Itachi-kun, but I want to!" she chirped with cheerful, guileless appeal. "It makes me happy to see you happy, and I promise I will work hard to make this wish come true as well!"

This time, the unguarded expression on his face grew undeniably gentle. The look in his eyes warmed further the longer he remained in the presence of this sweet-natured, pink-haired girl, and there and then, Itachi silently conceded defeat to this precocious child. A liberating, newfound sense of lightness gradually encompassed his very being, and for the very first time since Shisui's passing, Itachi started to feel more hopeful about the future, more buoyant, slowly but surely starting to let go of his grief and regrets.

His cousin was wrong; he would never be alone. Sakura would not let him, and he had no intention whatsoever to push her away as well.

After all…if this precious, sunshine girl continued to remain by his side, then perhaps one day, happiness might be within his reach too.

::tsuzuku::

Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:

Uhm…yeah.

I'm not sure how many of you are still actively following this story, but I'm pretty sure that after reading this chapter, most of you will either be loving me or hating me right now. You know, in the 'severely torn between throttling me hard or throttling me even harder' kind of way – especially if you guys have been paying attention to the completion date of this chapter.

I have no excuses beyond the usual 'Kishimoto is not being very inspiring lately' and the 'my muse abruptly jumped ship to another fandom and hauled me along for the ride,' but I really apologize for leaving you guys in the dark for the past year or so. The good news is I have sort of completed the long ass fic that I have been writing for the other aforementioned fandom, and therefore will more or less be back in business on the Naruto front. As I have mentioned before, I have no intention to discontinue any of my uncompleted fics. I will finish them all…eventually.

Not sure when, though, that's the problem. But yes. Eventually.

Sorry, guys, please don't cry. I know I'm really very bad at updating, but I will at least try to make an effort not to take years just to pop out one chapter.

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This is probably not the place to mention this, but to all the concerned readers who were wondering what happened to my GaaSaku novella 'Sweetheart,' it happened to be the only casualty out of my sixty plus fics on FF Net to be taken down during the Great M-Rated Story Purge sometime last year, due to the fact that there happened to have the term 'bitch' written on the summary of Sweetheart, and was therefore incompliant with FF Net's rules and regulations. It was pretty funny (and severely aggravating at the same time), because I was legitimately referring to a female dog in the summary (as opposed to the female human version), but FF Net was not amused all the same and my fic was unceremoniously deleted. Not going to lie; I was extremely unhappy with the unfair course of action (there had no warning given whatsoever, just termination and an abrupt, curt notice), and that just completely took all the wind out of my sails, along with all of my interest in putting anything else up on this account.

Long story short, you guys can credit my complete lack of updates last year to the wonderful admins of FF Net.

Sorry that you folks had to suffer; I take my writing very seriously and can get irrationally irritated when people messes with it for no good reason whatsoever.

On the positive side, I backup all of my works consistently, so the master copy of Sweetheart is still sitting nice and safe in my hard drive, and now that I intend to be more active on this account once again, I will be cleaning up that fic before reposting it in the near future, so please do look out for it.

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Next, onto the chapter notes proper.

Shisui had to die.

I was reluctant to do it because I don't really like writing death fics (this was my first succeeded attempt, by the way), but his passing is pivotal in the grand scheme of things. Beyond the obvious Mangekyo Sharingan that Itachi gained from his cousin, Shisui's death also completely drives home the point that the enemies are not only coming from the outside, but also exist within Konoha as well. This is something that Itachi needed to be fully aware of, and this hard lesson gleaned at the expense of his cousin's demise he will never forget.

I have to sheepishly admit that I haven't read the Naruto manga for a very long time now, and usually only pop over to the Narutopedia for some quick catching up if I require information on the various characters and the current events in Naruto-verse. I still hold a deep affection for the characters of Naruto even though its plot has long since lost its allure to me, so I can no longer be sure that what I write is exactly compliant to the manga-verse.

Still, I'm pretty certain that Shisui's death wasn't very much elaborated upon in the manga, and so I took the liberty of adding some details on my own. In canon-verse, how exactly Itachi got his own Mangekyo from Shisui's death was very much left to the reader's imagination, but I thought it would make sense that since Shisui was already badly wounded and dying from Danzo's assault, all Itachi had left to do was to watch his cousin die. That was pretty much how Sasuke gained his own Mangekyo, after all; it was true that he had fought his older brother to a standstill, but in the end, Itachi had succumbed to his illness before Sasuke could land the killing stroke, and Sasuke had still received the Kaleidoscope Copy Wheel Eye.

The aftermath of Shisui's death was also purely conjecture on my part. For those who are curious, the seiza is a traditional formal way of sitting in Japan. It involves kneeling on the floor, folding one's legs underneath their thighs and then resting the buttocks on the heels. From there, the dogeza can be performed. The dogeza is a very deep bow (literally prostrating oneself with the forehead pressed to the ground) used to show deference to a highly revered person, to express deep apology and/or to express a desire for a favor from a person. I'm not very sure if this sort of bowing is common in Japanese traditional funerary rituals, but in this instance, it just seemed fitting for Itachi to pay his final respects to his cousin in such a manner, in acknowledgement of Shisui's unsung sacrifice.

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I'm not very certain of Itachi's personal opinion when it comes to the matter of his clan's bloody tradition and custom of obtaining the Mangekyo (and subsequently the Eternal Mangekyo) but I can't imagine that he must have been particularly supportive of the practice. At least, that is so for CP-verse Itachi. He didn't want anything to do with the Mangekyo until Shisui stonewalled him into it, and now those eyes are yet another reminder of the heavy burdens that he has to bear.

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For those who missed the memo in the chapter proper, just be reminded that Danzo failed to get his hands on either of Shisui's eyes. This is a slight deviation from the manga, but rest assured that I have my own plans for those eyes.

Great…now I sound like a necrophiliac, body part snatching evil mastermind.

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Question, does this chapter count as an angsty one? If so, it wasn't intentional, but I suppose the subject of death can be pretty sobering. For some reason or another, the tone of CP keeps getting darker and darker without my express consent. I like happy, funny things, dammit. I don't even know where all these angst is coming from.

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Do keep in mind that there exists a gradual time progression in this chapter itself. There is a time difference of weeks, at least a month, actually, between the first part (Shisui's death) and the second (Itachi's encounter with Sakura), so no, Itachi did not immediately pop Shisui into the river, and then go off and receive huggles from Sakura and instantaneously, miraculously recover from his grief. Just to be clear, Sakura's meeting with Itachi in this chapter takes place after a significant amount of time had passed since Shisui's demise.

I was actually tempted to split this chapter in two to avoid this confusion, but I didn't want to end it on such a dark, angsty note, so you guys will just have to suck it up and deal with this ridiculously long chapter.

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The Senbazuru literally means 'a thousand origami cranes.' According to Wikipedia, there is an ancient Japanese legend that promises that anyone who folds a thousand paper cranes will be granted a wish by a crane. The Senbazuru is also seen as powerful and benevolent good luck charm, as the crane in Japan is regarded as a mystical creature that can live for a thousand years. It is also a symbol for world peace, and besides that, is sometimes given as a wedding gift to couples with a wish for a thousand years of prosperity and happiness. Sometimes, couples themselves will also fold the thousand cranes together as a symbol of their enduring love and dedication to each other – so the Senbazuru can be regarded as a powerful token of affection as well.

In light of all the positive connotations to the Senbazuru, I thought that it would be quite fitting for Sakura to present such a precious gift to Itachi. Obviously not for the romantic aspect (that part will not be coming into play until quite a bit later), but I think poor Itachi deserves some happiness, and as a pacifist, the promise of peace as well, yes?

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So. This is the chapter where they have officially/finally gotten around to kissing each other (technically). If that scene have been somewhat uncomfortable for some of you to read, do keep in mind that their actions are not borne from romantic love (not yet, at the very least), but more from an affectionate, platonic one that had been built on trust resulted from years of empathetic friendship.

I'm sure that by now, most of you would have already noticed that Itachi is a lot less stoic and more demonstrative in Sakura's presence – this is hugely deliberate. He has been letting his guard down around her since the age of nine, way before he was molded into a hardened ANBU elite, subsequently discovered the dark secrets of his clan and also the burdens he had to carry, and whereas he is very good at concealing his thoughts and emotions now, he will still tend to be more expressive and open before his childhood friend.

Of course, this is also partly because Sakura is able to read him easily even with his impassive mask on, or rather, she has already long since found a way to burrow deep into his psyche even before he had learned to properly build a defense to keep her out, and will be there to stay for a long, long time.

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And yes, Itachi is beginning to notice Sakura, in a very vague manner of speaking. It is a really minute, dawning awareness, and even though she is only eight, keep in mind that he is already thirteen, considered an adult in ninja terms, and in the midst of puberty. I think it is quite realistic and reasonable for Itachi to slowly start to pay attention to what his heart is telling him. After all, if canon-verse Naruto can develop a monumental crush on his teammate Sakura at age thirteen, I don't see why the same thing would be impossible for Itachi.

Of course, that is not to say that Itachi will be crushing on the little girl five years his junior right away (because that is just impossible and more than a bit disturbing), merely a hint that the events that had transpired in this chapter will slowly begin to ease open the possibility of what will come in the eventual future (say, seven, eight years down the road).

I really hope my explanation clears things up; long story short, Itachi is not a pedophile and I have no intention to turn him into one in the entirety of CP-verse.

Hmm, how do I further explain this; let's just say that there exists a boy whose soul mate happens to be significantly younger than he is, but he is patient, and if need be, he will wait until Kingdom Come for her to be ready, alright?

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Next, for those who are curious, 'shiawase' basically means 'happiness' in Japanese.

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Last but not least, I have a tumblr account, guys! It has the same handle as my FF Net account, paws_bells, so come find me if you want to interact with me or ask questions. I'm more active there compared to on Facebook, not to mention I do not have a backlog of a gazillion unanswered messages to wade through over there so I will more likely be able to get back to you in swift and prompt manner.

As always, thanks for reading and liking this fic. Just so you all know, all your encouraging reviews and feedback were what eventually convinced me to return to this fandom once more. Thanks again, guys! I'm happy to be back!

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Your reviews fuel my passion for writing. So please leave a comment if you like this fic!

-paws