Still my 'Flirting with Death' sub-series for SSmonth 2017. Taking the prompts out of order; this is for Day 16

Flirting With Death
2. That Day

She was only nine or ten when it happened.

She was wandering through the woods after a heavy rain, and had stopped to watch the swollen creek rush under the old stone bridge.

She'd been warned like all of the children were warned (or twice as much, by her reckoning, because she was a visitor and apparently couldn't be expected to keep such warnings in her head) the rainy season brought the rapids, and she dutifully promised to stay away from them. She contented herself with letting her mind wander, coaxed by the calm of the woods and the white noise of the creek.

She didn't know what made her look up – maybe she had heard something – but when she did, she spotted the boy on the other bank.

He was dressed in dark clothing and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, just watching her.

She frowned at him and called out in challenge.

"Well? What are you looking at?"

He blinked once or twice before looking around.

"What's the matter?" she crossed her arms. "Too rude to answer?"

His stand-offish air melted into incredulity.

"You can... see me?"

"Of course I can see you," she scoffed. "You aren't that far away." She crossed the short bridge and over to him.

"You aren't from around here."

"Neither are you," he retorted. "You live in a different village."

"Well, yeah," she blinked. "But I visit enough to know who the other kids in the area are, you aren't one of them." She cocked her head to the side. "Do your parents know you are in the woods alone? It can be dangerous – especially during the rainy season."

"Tch. They are aware."

He was half a head taller than her, although he acted as though it was more than that.

"You're not dirty."

They both looked down to his spotless clothing.

There was no trace of rain or dirt or mud or grass anywhere on him – even on his shoes.

The same could not be said for her.

Her borrowed galoshes came practically up to the knee of her mud-splattered jeans, and the hem of her coat just above that, but there was still mud everywhere.

He stepped closer and peered at her.

"You have mud spots on your face."

"Those are probably just my freckles," she rubbed her nose and checked her hand for mud. "They'll fade now that I won't be outside as much."

She realized he didn't have a coat on.

"Aren't you cold?" she blurted out.

"I don't get cold."

She eyed him warily. "If you say so."

He began to walk toward the bridge, stopping to watch the water. She looked him up and down.

"Why are you out here?"

"I'm training."

"Oh, like to be a scout?"

"No."

"Be careful," she frowned. "You are too close to the edge – you could get hurt."

"No I can't," and he stepped closer as if to prove his point.

But the banks were unstable from all of the rain, and he began to slip.

She lunged forward and grabbed his wrist to pull him to safety, even as the ground shifted below their feet. With surprising strength, she redirected her momentum to toss him back on shore, landing him unceremoniously in the mud.

She had a brief moment of relief tinged with satisfaction at seeing his utter disbelief before she tumbled into the churning creek.

The force of the water was stronger than she could have imagined, and the sudden cold shocked her. She tried to kick out of her boots – to do the things they teach you to do to keep from drowning – but it was all happening too fast. She broke the surface of the water occasionally to gasp air into her lungs, but she couldn't fight the current.

Sucked under again, she struggled out of her rain coat and curled to try and pry off her galoshes. Disoriented by the tumbling water and the lack of oxygen, she could only stare dumbly at the large rock that was getting closer and closer at an alarming rate.

She closed her eyes and braced for the inevitable impact.

But it never came.

Instead of careening into jagged rock, she felt fingers close around her wrist, and everything stopped.

Her world became a disoriented jumble -
- a vague sensation of being lifted or dragged or pulled -
- the sense of light and air and the smell of earth and the crackle of fire -
- a touch as warm as sunshine in the middle of her forehead.

She sat up with a start, her lungs drawing in a great, involuntary gasp of air. She was no longer in the water. She glanced down to her clenched fingers, recognizing the cheery plaid flannel lining of her own coat, warm and dry beneath her skin. (Which made no sense, because she had fallen into the water with her coat on and then lost it there, so why was it here and dry?)

There was a small, lively campfire that was pouring off heat - she scrambled to her knees to hold her hands to the fire and let its warmth soak into her bones.

"So," his voice made her look up quickly. "You're awake."

It was the boy, his clothes no longer pristine. She looked down at herself. She was rumpled and dirty, but she was dry.

"How...?"

"Here," he muttered, handing her a canteen. Too far beyond perplexed to question, she took a sip, welcoming the warmth that slid through her veins. She sat back on her heels, capped the canteen, and handed it back.

"What…what happened?"

"You fell in."

"Why aren't I wet?"

"Why can you see me?" he leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes piercing and black. "Why could you touch me?"

She blinked at his tone as much as his words. He sounded curious and angry and hurt all at once.

She was a clever child, and was turning things over and over in her mind. To her the strange thing was that she had been saved from the river, but to him, the strange thing was...

"Why wouldn't I be able to see and touch you?"

"Because your kind can't see our kind," she felt the full weight of his penetrating stare. "No one else has ever seen through my concealment jutsu, and no mortal has ever been able to touch me, so how did you do it?"

"I don't understand," she shook her head. "I didn't do anything. And what do you mean by mortal? And-"

He stood up abruptly and brushed himself off, his clothes instantly returning to their pristine state, and the small fire extinguishing with no trace of ever having existed.

"You really are annoying," he muttered, turning to leave.

She jumped up and jabbed a small finger into his chest, catching him off guard.

"You're the one who is being annoying! What kind of person thinks other people can't see them?"

He might have answered, but his gaze shifted to something behind her and he stood up straighter. She felt the presence before she registered it – a strong energy crackling on the edges of the air and getting closer.

A second boy appeared next to the one arguing with her.

He looked between them both.

"What is going on, little brother?"

"It isn't my fault," he crossed his arms. "She could see me. And then she fell in the water."

A dark eyebrow quirked upward.

"And you intervened?"

"I had to," he admitted, before looking away and muttering. "She fell in because of me."

"Did she now?" the older brother asked in a way that made the girl think he had known exactly what had happened.

When his focus came to rest on her forehead (which was larger than most of the girls her age, and she was still self-conscious about it, even after Ino had given her that ribbon and become her friend) and she fought down the urge to cover it with her hands.

His eyes softened into something a shade more friendly.

"What is your name?"

She blinked wide, green eyes at him, wondering if she should answer even as she did.

"Sakura." She cleared her throat and stood a little taller. "My name is Haruno Sakura. It's nice to meet you…" she looked at the brothers expectantly.

"Itachi," he supplied before looking pointedly at his brother, who grumbled:

"Sasuke."

He looked so annoyed and embarrassed that Sakura couldn't help but smile. Deciding he needed something nice, she offered:

"Then thank you for saving me, Sasuke."

Sasuke obviously didn't reply quickly enough for his brother's tastes, as he interjected "And thank you for trying to save my little brother. Although it was his fault he almost fell in in the first place."

Sasuke's cheeks burned, and he refused to look at either of them. Irritation emboldened her, so she squared her shoulders and faced Itachi.

"Why is it strange that I can see Sasuke?"

"Strange?"

"Sasuke said I'm not your kind. He called me mortal."

Itachi slid a glance to his trying-to-shrink-into-himself brother.

"He did, did he?"

"And why am I not supposed to be able to touch him?" she looked between them. "Who are you?...What are you?"

"We are visitors to these parts," he ventured, "Not unlike you."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow.

"You have grandparents here?"

His smile was kind and beautiful, but the other boy's small smirk said her sarcasm hadn't gone unappreciated.

"Not exactly." Itachi considered her. "It appears there is something special about you, Haruno Sakura. I look forward to seeing what that might be. Until then," he gave a polite bow which she reflexively reciprocated - but when she looked up, both boys were gone.

Moreover, she was back in front of her Grandparent's house, none the worse for wear.

"Sakura!" her grandmother called. "Come in – it's almost time for lunch!"

"Coming," she called automatically, looking around. She felt the brush of eyes on the back of her neck, but couldn't pinpoint where they might be.

"Thank you," she said, waving to a shaded spot behind the great tree in the yard, and turning to run back to the farmhouse.

It would be years before Haruno Sakura realized she had met her Death - and his brother - face to face.

* Continuation of the 'Flirting with Death' AU in which Sasuke and Sakura meet for the first time. The installments will take some of the prompts out of order, but the story will flow chronologically. - GL