As always, thank you so very much to everybody who was kind enough to review. :)
Ugh, so, I guess the Unofficial Handbook was wrong and Shisui really is a guy after all? D: I felt so incredibly stupid. See, I've never read the manga or anything – all the firsthand experience I have with Naruto was when I watched a few Shippuden episodes on youtube back in like 2006, and various stuff I gather off the internet. That's it. Sorry about the confusion, guys. Still, I rather like my girl!Shisui. 3
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Chapter Eleven: Old Wounds
-
The bar is too loud – it is just almost eight in the morning, and it is already filled with approximately one hundred obnoxiously loud, ill-mannered people. Because of this, it feels even warmer than mid-April should rightfully feel, and on top of that, it is too smoky inside and smells far too strongly of burning sausages, and—
His eggs are runny.
Damn it all to hell.
Sasuke Uchiha runs a hand through his hair irritably, fingers tangling in his shoulder-length ponytail as he tosses his fork down on the rickety wooden table. His companions do not seem to be experiencing the same difficulties, unpleasantly enough – Juugo is sitting across from him, quite contentedly working through a formidable pile of soggy, syrup-covered wrinkles, and Suigetsu and Karin, in one of their very rare peaceful moments, are sharing a suspicious-looking omelet of epic proportions, while simultaneously poring over an unmarked dark brown book.
"…Huh," Suigetsu comments, after a while, to their general table. "Damn Bingo Book's out of date – it says that your brother is still at large, Sasuke."
Sasuke says nothing at this, but his eyes narrow slightly as he looks into the distance.
Suigetsu almost sets the book down and goes to look for a more recent edition, but then Karin stills his hand. "Wait, stupid – take a look at the date on the spine," she says impatiently, while gathering her flame-red hair into a messy ponytail. "That's this month's edition. It's not out of date at all."
The two of them, and Juugo, look toward Sasuke instinctively, but the Uchiha merely turns away, curling his fingers around his glass of chilled water. "It's probably just an error," he replies tersely.
Karin shrugs one shoulder noncommitally, and Juugo looks like he wants to say something more, but then visibly changes his mind, before joining Suigetsu and Karin in their perusal of the bingo book. Suigetsu looks similarly unconvinced, but rolls his eyes slightly and continues flipping through the pages, offering such sage commentary as, "Ugly bastard, that one,"echoed by a shocked, "Ugh, Suigetsu, I actually agree with you…" and a subsequent "…Be nice, Karin…"
After a while, Sasuke mostly tunes their voices out, his thoughts, as always, drifting far away, even though he keeps listening for anything that they could find beneficial, just in case—
After a few more minutes of this, Suigetsu, Juugo, and Karin's usual commentary is disturbed in favor of a low whistle by Suigetsu. "Damn," he says slowly, and very appreciately. "I wouldn't mind having some of th—"
Karin cuts him off abruptly with a sharp elbow to the ribs and a poisonous glare. "Hey, Suigetsu, can you try not to be such a chauvinistic pig?" she asks, scowling. "She's not a piece of meat, you know."
For his part, Suigetsu just smirks rather mischievously. "Why, dear Karin, I think you're just jealous."
Karin snorts inelegantly, throwing her feet up onto Juugo's deserted chair. "Don't call me dear. And I am so not jealous of…that," she pronounces, waving a hand at the book. "Although I have to admit that those boots are to die for – she's got good taste."
In unison, Suigetsu and Karin look up at Juugo, waiting for his evaluation, while Sasuke just lifts his glass of water to his lips—
Juugo leans over the back of Suigetsu and Karin's chairs, looking more closely at the offered picture. "I like her hair," he says softly. "It's so…pink. And pretty."
And, upon hearing this, Sasuke slams his glass down on the wooden table so hard that the fragile glass breaks, while choking on his water. Violently.
Havoc reigns over the members of Team Hawk for a few moments, and nothing calms down until Sasuke finally manages to convince his worried teammates that he is, indeed, just fine. The physical evidence says otherwise, though – he is deathly pale, and his bloodline limit seems to have activated itself of its own accord; piercing crimson against his ashen skin. He nods at the bingo book wordlessly, the command evident in his eyes, and after exchanging somewhat nonplussed looks, Karin and Suigetsu hand it over to him.
Silence falls among Team Hawk as their leader studies the full-length picture of Sakura Haruno (dressed to kill, in more ways than one), and her subsequent pages of extensive information. One of his hands clenches into a white-knuckled fist, and in the next moment, Sasuke flings the book back down on the table, the abrupt release of tension making Juugo, Karin, and Suigetsu all jump.
Disregarding his untouched eggs, Sasuke stands up, extricating a handful of notes and coins from one pocket and slamming them down on the table. His eyes are no longer swirling with the Sharingan, but shadowed with some sort of dark purpose, and he looks at his team expectantly. "Let's go."
Team Hawk follows without question, all of them quietly and internally combating various degrees of curiosity, but Suigetsu is the only one to voice their unanimous thoughts, a few minutes later, as they disappear into the shelter granted by a nearby forest. "Uh, Sasuke…" he ventures, almost timidly. "What are we doing?"
Sasuke turns to look at him, and Suigetsu almost cringes at the expression on his face; next to him, he feels Karin do the same. "We need," Sasuke says, very softly, "to find her."
-
At that exact moment, one hundred and ten miles away, Sakura Haruno's eyes snap wide open.
It takes her a moment to realize that she is shaking. Trembling slightly, even though it isn't cold at all, and the blankets are pulled up to her chin, her fingers curled rigidly around the top of them. It takes a conscious effort for her to release her death grip on the covers, but still, the occasional tremor or two runs the length of her body. Sakura can't remember any unsettling dreams, but the back of her orange shirt is chilly with cold sweat, and she takes a few deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm herself as best as she can.
This proves to be an entirely futile pursuit, and eventually, Sakura sits up quietly, pushing the covers off herself and sliding out of the bed. Strangely, Itachi is still asleep, and she can't help but notice that he had turned onto his side sometime during the night, facing her side of the bed, and curled into himself somewhat, one hand gripping the sheets in a white-knuckled fist. The combination of the unusual pose, along with the way his hair is falling over his face so haphazardly, makes him look like such a disarming mix of troubled and actually vulnerable that it gives her pause for a moment.
Forcing herself to look away, Sakura grabs her bag on the way to the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. Her hands are shaking slightly, still, and she can't figure out why. It takes her a few moments to put a name to this unsettling feeling, as she sets her clean, customary outfit on the bathroom sink, and strips Naruto's pajamas off, before climbing into the blessedly spacious shower stall and tugging on the knob until the jets of soothing, warm water begin to wash over her.
Her mother used to say that it was the feeling that somebody would get if somebody walked over their grave. Sakura remembers rolling her eyes at this old adage and telling her that it made literally no sense whatsoever, but now, she thinks that she finally might understand what it means – and hopefully, it's not some kind of bad omen. Because at this point, that's pretty much the last thing she needs. Although, to be honest, she's having a hard time thinking about how things could get any worse at this point, on top of already missing Konoha and Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji so much that it hurts all over again, like a wound that had scabbed over, and then, without warning, the scab had been ripped off, leaving the cut to bleed afresh. Which is pretty terrible enough on its own, and then there's also the added issue of things getting all weird with Itachi—
Sakura actually moans aloud out of utter dismay, wrapping her arms around her dripping body. Itachi. Where to start?
She squeezes a handful of shampoo into her outstretched hand and then begins working it into her hair almost viciously. For the kami's sake, it's not like this is some stupid crush, not like the thought-it-was love – Inner Sakura spits the word in the privacy of her mind – that she had given Sasuke, or even anything close to her confused feelings for Naruto, which began after their expedition to save Gaara, and only escalated from there, culminating in what they had done on the last night he had spent in Konoha…
Sakura forces the thought away, even as she sighs almost involuntarily. No. Her attraction to Itachi is purely physical, and she can't even put a place to where it had first started. At first, she had been too scared of him to notice things like that (despite such instances as their encounter in the broom closet of that one museum, the memory of which sends almost pleasurable thrills down her spine, now), but after they had first started traveling together…but it isn't like she had chosen to feel that way, either. As a matter of fact, Sakura had tried her best to stop thinking such traitorous thoughts entirely – and she is a kunoichi first, yes, but she couldn't and can't deny the part of her that is just a sixteen-year-old girl and all too susceptible to such matters. And not only is Itachi the only male she is in regular contact with, but he is undeniably attractive, as well.
The water is too cold, now, and Sakura winces as shampoo gets into her eyes. She would have been perfectly happy to continue their partnership as was, simply ignoring such inconsequential impulses on her part; after all, she is perfectly capable of maintaining a professional relationship, regardless of any distractions – and they were doing just fine, too! She had begun to get used to him, and vice versa, and hell, she feels confident enough to say that Itachi had started to…well, care for her, a little. Like her, actually.
Sakura scowls wrathfully as she rubs the stinging shampoo out of her thoroughly irritated eyes. But no. Inexplicably enough and out of utterly nowhere, Itachi just had to go and decide that he liked her a little too much, at the most completely inconvenient time, and what did he do about it? Instead of bringing up the issue in a sensible, rational conversation, he had just…made out with her. Felt her up, even. And damn near gave her a heart attack in the process, in more ways than one.
And, to make things even worse – Sakura sighs despairingly – she had run away, when he had tried to talk to her about it. Just…fled. But she had been totally overwhelmed by what had just happened, and justifiably so. During her last night in Konoha, she had spared one moment to think about Itachi, as she had been drifting off to sleep…if she had remembered correctly, she was looking forward to getting back for one reason only: to get some answers regarding what had happened between them.
Which hadn't really worked out all too well.
Sakura tilts her head back under the flow of water, letting it nurse her slowly-growing headache. She can't decide whether to bring it up with him or not, and she grimaces as she realizes what a horribly awkward conversation that would prove to be.
But…why?
That's what she can't figure out – why would Itachi, of all people, kiss her out of nowhere (she really didn't think that he had those kinds of feelings toward her; in all honesty, she hadn't even thought that he was capable of such feelings toward anybody), and then, the next time they saw each other, promise to never do it again?
It's enough to make a girl go insane, Sakura thinks sourly, and even the feeling of her luxurious strawberry soap against her cooled skin does nothing to calm her frazzled nerves. After turning the knob straight to the cold side, she allows herself to fume in silence for a long while. This entire business is downright irrational, and such is her personality that she just doesn't like such things in the least.
It is only ten minutes later, once she has managed to calm down somewhat, that Sakura runs her hands through her wet hair, closing her eyes. Why, she had asked herself earlier.
For the same reasons that she finds herself attracted to him, perhaps.
Sakura realizes, then, that she has known Itachi – really known him, not just known of the atrocities he has committed, and later, of the immense sacrifices that he has undertaken – since January. Since the cold winter night that he had pulled her into his arms in that shadowed forest, and saved her from certain death at the hands of the Root hunters. And in these four months, despite his general cynically quiet nature, she has come to learn just what makes him tick. That Itachi is definitely not a morning person, and, therefore, he just cannot function without at least two cups of tea as soon as he wakes up. That he has a seemingly irrational phobia of touch, that he once saved a kitten, that his favorite food is dango, and that, on the rare occasion that he actually carries on a conversation, said conversation is so filled with sarcastic appositives that one literally feels exhausted after the conclusion of the verbal exchange.
And these feel a lot like trivial, random little facts, but Sakura sighs at the belated knowledge that these are what make him human. Not just the ruthlessly efficient killing machine, one of the two most dangerous shinobi in Fire Country history, or the Akatsuki member and the self-sacrificing double agent – but underneath all of that, just somebody else who is as painfully human as she is. They are so very different (worlds apart) in every single way, but just as susceptible to the same kinds of loneliness and fear, and the same wants and hopes and needs, that every single individual experiences.
Be that as it may, Sakura struggles with the idea of Itachi actually being attracted to her, for whatever reasons. Even if that is the case, though, she thinks, frowning – it's not like it can go anywhere, right? After all, their current situation really isn't conducive to…dating, or whatever. It would be completely impossible to carry out a normal relationship in these circumstances; besides, she doubts that either of them, as they are right now, could even try.
She bites back yet another sigh, shutting off the shower rather glumly and beginning to dry herself off. Maybe it – she – was just something that Itachi needed to get out of his system. The thought isn't a pleasant one, yes (actually, it's almost enough to make her want to throw all pretenses of social pleasantries aside and punch him through a few solid concrete walls), but right now, it does seem like the likeliest possibility. And if that's the case, it means she can go right back to pretending that nothing happened between them.
Sakura glowers at her reflection in the mirror as she zips up her usual crimson vest, before heading out the door. As her luck would have it, in the next second, she almost collides with the object of her most recent thoughts, which happens to be pacing back and forth, holding a cup of steaming peppermint tea and looking just as unsettled as she feels.
There is a highly awkward moment, where Itachi somehow manages to keep the tea from spilling all over her, while Sakura apologizes in as many different ways as she can think of, and at the same time, he attempts to assure her that it is, indeed, all right.
After this, there is an even more awkward moment, when both of them fall silent at exactly the same second and stare at each other. And like the brave kunoichi that she is, Sakura promptly looks at the floor, mumbles something about getting breakfast and hoping waffles would be all right for both of them, and then gets the hell out of there, trying her best to maintain her composure as she does so.
Once she has made it a safe distance down the hallway, Sakura collapses against the nearest wall, running her fingers through her hair despairingly.
Pretending like it never happened?
Yeah. Much easier than it sounds.
-
A few miles after crossing the border that the Fire Country shares with the Land of Lightning forces Sakura to conclude – well, the land is dark forest-green, like Konoha, yes, but so far, it seems to be disturbingly similar to marshland; wet, and depressingly misty and foggy. It's also utterly deserted thus far, save for a few aged wooden signs denoting the (extremely long) distance to the next town. Sakura doesn't know whether it's the strange weather and new surroundings that has triggered it, but the remnants of that spine-tingling, eerie feeling that she had woken up with are beginning to re-surface, setting all of her nerves on edge.
Beside her, Itachi steps on a twig, and the sharp noise actually makes Sakura jump, her muscles tensing from head to toe. He gives her a nonplussed look, and before, he wouldn't have thought twice about asking about the reason for her discomfort, but—
Sakura saves him from any further internal debate by shuddering slightly, wrapping her arms around herself. "This place is creepy," she decides, stepping over a tangle of vines that trail over the path. "And I don't like it."
Itachi can't help but smirk slightly, inclining his head toward the vast outline of mountain ranges in the center of the country, cutting strangely into the purple-gray sky. "Can you not appreciate its beauty?" he inquires rhetorically, allowing his fingers to trail against the damp moss that covers the bark of a nearby tree.
"No," Sakura retorts, although she tilts her head to the side thoughtfully, before narrowing her eyes at her partner, and then the country around them. "…But does seem like the kind of place you would be attracted to – um, I mean…like…or, tolerate, or…" she scowls; now fully abandoning the idea of the stupid extended metaphor. "Hey, maybe you just need to get your irrational fascination with it out of your system, right?"
Now somewhat at a loss and rather failing at picking up on the deeper meaning of this conversation, Itachi directs a cautious glance down at his partner. "…Perhaps?" he acquiesces, looking rather disconcerted.
For reasons that he doubts he will ever understand, Sakura glares at him and stalks ahead on the narrow path, her hips taking on an unquestionably irritated sway as she does so.
…Not that he's looking, or anything.
At this point, Itachi fleetingly wonders if he should just quit while he's ahead and strangle himself with one of these conveniently located hanging vines.
-
One Hour Later
-
"Mercenaries."
Sakura freezes in place, turning around to face him, her irritation forgotten. "…What?"
They have been walking for an hour and a half straight, and their silence and isolation has seemed unbroken – but then, she supposes that Itachi would have more experience in sensing such things than she does. He catches up to her in a few steps, his posture tense and alert. The tomoe of the Sharingan are swirling slowly as he scans the surrounding marshland, and Sakura looks away involuntarily; that will never cease to disturb her. "Are you sure it's not one of the Root teams?" she asks quietly, even as she flips a shuriken out of the tiny pack tied around her upper thigh.
"Yes," Itachi responds, almost absentmindedly. "There are five of them."
Sakura cringes involuntarily. "I – five? Why so many?"
"You may be aware that the leaders of the shinobi villages in Fire and Wind Country contract privately with teams of active shinobi in other countries, so that they can aid in tracking down particularly troublesome missing-nin that cross country lines in order to evade their teams of trackers," Itachi's tone is soft and detached, and with a light tug of her wrist, he leads her off the path. "These particular individuals are an active Cloud squad who are likely performing this mission for some sort of extra financial gain." Even in the gravity of their current situation, he spares a moment to give her the slightest of smirks. "You seem to be quite popular, Sakura."
"You don't know that they're after me!" Sakura retorts heatedly, almost tripping over a moldy fallen log. "Besides, I don't know why Danzou wants me back so badly!"
"You're the most wanted Konoha missing-nin at the moment – logically, there is hardly anybody else who this team could be in pursuit of. The Godaime's other apprentice is likely also being hunted down, but considering her greater age, experience, and network, Danzou would consider you to be easier prey," Itachi replies calmly. "Even he cannot sustain a successful shinobi village without a single medic-nin."
This time, Sakura does hear the faintest echo of activity in the rest of the bog, and her eyes narrow slightly. "We should split up and incapitate them," she says decisively.
This statement is rewarded by an expression of outright incredulity flickering across Itachi's normally impassive face, but all of a sudden, he pales drastically, looking sharply to their east, instead. His grip on her wrist tightens, and forgetting the need to be quiet, Sakura gasps and pulls away, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a puddle of mud. "What the hell?" she hisses.
"…Nothing," Itachi replies tersely, glancing around their surroundings again, and she notices that he suddenly looks very shaken – almost as if he had seen a ghost. "It was nothing."
"Well?" Sakura asks impatiently, directing a wary look over her shoulder. "What are we—"
Her voice trails off abruptly as Itachi pulls her back to him hard, so that she collides with his chest, and then, before she can say a word, he presses what she thinks is a quick, close-mouthed kiss to the place where her forehead meets her hairline, although it could have just been an accidental collision of his lips and her forehead—
"Be careful," Itachi instructs softly, and the second he releases her upper arm is the very same moment that he simply vanishes into the shadows, and she catches sight of a few scattered, barely visible, particles of ash that are slowly drifting east, borne by the wind.
Sakura just stands stock-still for a few moments, feeling probably the most astonished that she has ever felt in her entire life and wondering what the hell just happened there, but then she hears the distant echo of voices. Forcing herself to get back into gear, she weaves through the nearby trees, following the sounds that she hears, and stopping only when she can just barely see the Cloud team through the canopy of vines and overhanging leaves and branches. Making sure that she is as quiet as possible, she pulls out one of her shuriken, again – her aim is nowhere near as good as Tenten's, but she isn't completely hopeless at medium-range accuracy. There is one shinobi who has strayed to the back of the pack, lagging enough behind everybody else that if she picks him off, nobody would notice, and she tries to ignore the fact that he looks younger than his teammates; he's built kind of like Kiba Inuzuka, so he's probably not any older than she is, and—
Sakura's grip on the shuriken loosens, her resolve weakening. He is so young, likely just a chunin, and he's only doing his duty to his country, just like she always had. And she cannot find it within herself to kill him for that.
This is unquestionably dangerous and stupid to boot, but Sakura makes sure her chakra is completely and totally masked, before casting a concealment genjutsu over her physical appearance – which makes her look almost invisible, in essence – and silently following the team of Cloud-nin. Like Itachi had said, there are five of them – all male, but aside from that, they remind her somewhat of how different working in teams in Konoha had been, and she bites her lip, silently directing her mind to focus. Now is definitely not the time to be having stupid fits of nostalgia. Staying absolutely quiet and making sure she doesn't step on a twig or trip over a vine or slip in a puddle of mud, is hard enough, and for this, she needs to have every little particle of chakra that she has trained onto them with absolute intentness.
It takes her a few moments for her to realize that Itachi had used one of his mysterious and absolutely, incomprehensibly large arrays of techniques to create a false trail for the Cloud team, and Sakura crosses her fingers behind her back. She needs them to stop and gather into a relatively close cluster, and her heart is beating so fast that she has to actively concentrate on slowing it. Brute force, intellectual strategizing, and the ability to sufficiently predict her opponent's moves and retaliate while targeting their weaknesses are the techniques that power the way she fights. She is almost completely hopeless at non-medical ninjutsu, and even though she can automatically dispel almost any genjutsu that is used against her and cast mid-level ones on herself, projecting complex illusionary techniques onto a large group of people is something that she has absolutely no experience in.
Sakura can't help but wince. What an absolutely lovely scenario in which to be learning a new skill. Great.
She tries to remain patient, though, and after another mile or so, the leader of the Cloud team stops them, holding out an arm. They gather around him, conversing in hushed tones, and Sakura wipes her suddenly damp palms on her skirt, ignoring the nervous fluttering of her heart. This had better work, because if not…
Within the next second, she learns that casting a genjutsu is a lot harder than it looks, and simultaneously, she gains even more respect for people like Kurenai and Itachi, who are extraordinarily proficient at it. She doesn't want to envision anything gruesome or painful for the Cloud team, so she just thinks of blank, neverending white spaces and empty walls and hallways that go nowhere, and focuses on weaving the image into her chakra and spreading it in a thick blanket out into the surrounding area.
Since this is her first time, the physical and mental strain on her entire body is immense, and Sakura watches with detached eyes from her position behind a large tree, as the team's eyes all begin to slowly glaze over while they stare into nothing. They will be immersed in the illusion for about ten minutes, at most, at which point she has programmed the genjutsu to knock them into unconsciousness.
Well…hopefully.
Sakura is so distracted by her own thoughts as she slowly withdraws the rest of her chakra and begins to edge away that, at first, she doesn't notice the young man from earlier – still hovering at the corner of the group, nearest to her – begin to move. His motions are slow and have an almost sluggish quality, as if he is fighting through water, and too late, she realizes that he must have the same kind of ability as her, although on a slightly lesser scale. But he is fast with the kunai that had been near at hand, in the pocket of his gray flak vest, and by the time Sakura fully realizes the magnitude of her mistake, it is already too late.
He throws the knife, with accuracy and speed that could match Tenten's, before finally succumbing to her genjutsu, and Sakura doesn't even realize how exactly she dodges the weapon. It had been aimed at her heart, but she had twisted out of the way, on instinct – and now, she collapses against the bark of a nearby tree, gasping for breath and biting her lip to keep silent. There is a searing pain against her left arm, from shoulder to elbow, and her first medical instinct is to look down sharply and evaluate the wound. It is long enough to make her head spin at the very sight, but thankfully not too deep or messy; a clean cut. But the pain makes her grit her teeth, closing her eyes as she feels herself weave in and out of consciousness, even as she tries to lift a chakra-covered right hand and glide it down the length of the wound. Some part of her is able to clinically evaluate that a large cut like this should hurt, yes, but this is causing her more pain than it rightfully should. Burning is the only way to fully describe it; like every inch of skin, and the tissue and flesh beneath, which the kunai had come in contact with, has been bathed in a vat of battery acid.
The last time she had experienced something as agonizing as this was—
Sakura blinks. Her chakra wavers.
Sasori?
Her memory blanks out again, as she tries to heal herself, but the pain is making it too difficult to concentrate, though, and all she can do is clean up the ragged edges of the cut a little as she screws her eyes shut.
She fights unconsciousness valiantly, even as she lapses in and out of it for the next few minutes, and in the next second, Sakura is vaguely conscious of something else in front of her. Cool fingers, twisting against hers and gently lifting her to her feet. She thinks she makes a tiny sound of protest, trying to pull away, but Itachi doesn't let go, and then, her eyes finally open, revealing slightly blurred vision – the dark green of the swampland around them, and the black and red of Itachi's Akatsuki cloak. Sakura can't help but cringe when her body registers the feeling of something slowly, steadily dripping from her arm, her fingers stiffening in automatic response to the re-registering of the white-hot pain lancing up and down her upper left arm.
"I was under the impression that I told you to be careful."
Even in her slightly disoriented state, Sakura doesn't fail to notice that his voice is a little more strained than usual, and she even manages to glare up at him hard. "I was a little bit distracted at the moment, considering what had happened immediately before," she returns sharply.
For once, he does not have a reply.
-
It doesn't take long for them to find a stream. It isn't overly large, but it is clean, and that is what matters most.
Itachi can tell that Sakura resents every moment of this, by the rather poisonous glares that she is sending his way every moment or so, but kami, this isn't easy for him, either.
"I will bleed on you," Sakura hisses, narrowing her eyes and trying to back up a step, "if you even think about coming any closer."
…And not only because of his partner's overly stubborn, prideful, and defensive attitude, either.
Completely unimpressed by this admittedly somewhat disturbing threat, Itachi steps closer to her, decidedly ignoring the way Sakura flinches away from him, before pressing one hand to the small of her back, aiming to ease her to the floor. But the sudden touch, in combination with a fresh stab of pain from her still-bleeding wound, makes her knees buckle out of sheer dizziness alone, and much to her displeasure, when she recovers from the momentary blackout, she is on her knees, leaning limply against a tree. Itachi is between her and the nearby stream, staring at her with a kind of intentness that makes her blush, even though his gaze is directed solely at the long cut on her upper arm.
She tries to say something, but Itachi beats her to the metaphorical punch, raising an eyebrow thoughtfully. "The blade was poisoned."
The word takes a moment to register, and Sakura takes a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on re-harnessing her chakra and bringing it back up to her hand. It's poison – she can deal with poison. Sasori used it, and she had created a flawless poison extraction jutsu, the same one she had successfully tested on Kankuro, so—
Then her reminiscing and chakra-harnessing attempts abruptly trail off, as a drastically larger problem presents itself, and Sakura fixes the cause of the problem with an absolutely aghast look. "What the hell are you doing?" she screeches, completely and utterly horrified, as she flinches away from Itachi's hand, as if burned.
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, the very familiar jutsu hovering at the tips of his fingers – the one that exactly mirrors the one on Sakura's right hand – flickers somewhat. "It should be self-explanatory," he replies, and surprisingly, his usual calm tone sounds somewhat forced.
Sakura shakes her head incredulously. "You copied my technique without my permission?"
"…Yes."
By rights, she knows that she shouldn't be feeling quite so indignant; after all, it is kind of what he does, after all, but still, there's something about his copying the technique that she had created on her own, that is just unnerving. "Well, I can do it myself," she replies defensively, reaching toward the sluggishly bleeding wound on her arm.
Only to have her hand intercepted and pressed down firmly to her side by Itachi, and Sakura's breath catches involuntarily at how close this sudden action brings them, almost nose-to-nose, so that she can even count every one of his long, sooty eyelashes – if she leans forward just a few inches, they could even—
For one moment, their eyes meet, and it is all too painfully and awkwardly obvious that both of them are thinking about, and remembering, the same thing. But then Itachi pulls away too fast, looking off fixedly into the distance and clearing his throat once, and even she can clearly read the expression on his face. Trying her best to ignore the fact that she is now probably blushing very heatedly, Sakura swallows over her suddenly dry throat and goes for the long gash on her left arm, nevertheless.
"Don't." Itachi's tone is steady, again, and even though he doesn't try to hold her hand back this time, his voice is firm enough that it actually gives her pause for a moment.
"But—"
He frowns at the stubborn kunoichi's last attempt at defense. "You aren't very bright, are you?"
Sakura's jaw actually drops this time, and, shocked into speechlessness, she offers no rebuttal as Itachi takes his chakra-covered hand and slowly begins to ease it from her shoulder down to her elbow; his hand hovers a fraction of an inch above her skin, and she still has to bite her lip to keep from shivering, damn it. She doesn't want to look directly at him, too afraid of something like before, but then, she can't help but give a slight, quivering sigh as her head falls back against the tree. The awful burning sensation is finally dissipating as he painstakingly extracts the poison, leaving the skin and tissue of her upper left arm once again feeling somewhat whole.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura catches a glimpse of Itachi's expression – he seems to be effortlessly working the poison extraction technique that she had created, without even a single flaw in his execution. Strangely enough, it looks like his talent in performing the technique goes deeper than just the mimicking abilities granted by his bloodline limit; it feels like he has some kind of natural capacity for this as well. Of course, she thinks, a little sourly, he just would have to be perfect at medical jutsu, too.
But still, she allows herself to relax fractionally, finally convinced that she is very much in capable hands. The entire process of siphoning the poison from her arm only takes about two or so minutes, but that is enough to make a noticeable difference in the way her arm feels.
"Better?" Itachi asks as he draws his hand back, allowing the jutsu to slowly fade from his fingertips.
It kind of kills her a little to admit it, but Sakura nods a little, brushing a few locks of hair back from her eyes with her other hand. "Thank you," she mumbles. "I'm just going to clean it off and disinfect it now, so I can finish healing it and stuff…"
Itachi gives her a nonplussed look, although he just barely manages to restrain himself from stilling her hand. In the end, he says nothing, and Sakura can only watch blankly as he reaches into an inner pocket of his cloak, before withdrawing a dark square of soft-looking cloth. It is only when he leans over a fraction of an inch, immersing the cloth in the stream, that she realizes what he intends to do, and she scowls on principle. "I can take care of it myself!" she protests hotly.
Itachi lets his gaze sweep her impassively. "Your genjutsu, while not a completely worthless first attempt, was rather energy-inefficient. Your chakra will burn out if you attempt any serious healing techniques right now."
As he watches Sakura struggle to come up with ways to effectively argue this point, he allows himself to wonder whether she really finds it quite so horrible to let him take care of her, on this one instance – after all, he cannot count the amount of times she has healed him after various skirmishes of some sort. But Itachi remains silent, and he pulls the damp cloth out of the stream, folds it in half once, and slowly, carefully draws it down the length of the cut. This time, Sakura can't keep herself from sighing as relaxes against the tree, forgetting her initial protests; the fresh, slightly cold water makes her arm sting, yes, but it feels good at the same time. One of his hands is supporting her lower arm, lightly curled around her elbow, as the other cleans the wound, and she lets her eyelids flutter shut.
Sakura doesn't know why he is doing this for her, but being taken care of like this is an undeniably pleasant sensation. For the past two years, she has been the medic-nin, the one who has healed and cared for everybody else first and admittedly put her own needs last. She likes the feeling of independence that comes with that, so rightfully; she should be extremely busy hating this entire experience with a passion. Which she most certainly isn't doing. It's not like she's stupid enough to believe that the gesture is borne out of any actual tender feelings or whatever; she would do the same for him, regardless of the situation…or what had happened between them on any prior occasion. Looking out for each other is just what partners are supposed to do, after all.
Still, Itachi's touch is gentler than it needs to be, and it takes a conscious effort on her part not to enjoy it. In an attempt to get her mind off the potentially problematic situation, she shifts a little, feeling the rasp of the bark through the back of her vest. "…Did you find it?" Sakura asks, at last.
For the first time, his steady, repetitive actions falter momentarily, even though his reply, when it comes, is in as impassive a tone as always. "I require some disinfectant cream…and, what I was I supposed to be finding?"
At this, Sakura actually cracks an eye open and gives him an impatient look. "There should be a container in my bag – the small, clear one with the blue lid. And you were supposed to be finding whatever the hell it was that set you on edge so badly in the forest earlier, remember?"
Itachi hesitates visibly, although to be honest, she cannot tell whether it is in discomfort from her question, or at the prospect of reaching into the unknown territory of her bag, which he has always avoided at all costs. He places an excessively large deal of stock in the idea of personal space, and perversely enough, it gives Sakura no small amount of amusement to see his displeasure at the idea of invading hers. While it is true that she has a lot of personal stuff in there – namely, some extra outfits and various underclothes, the latter of which she would gladly stab herself with a blunt butter knife in order to prevent Itachi from ever seeing, her medical containers of disinfectant cream and bruise balm are relatively near the top of all the stuff, which should make things okay…
This confidence gives Sakura the motivation to smile sweetly. "If you can't do it, just pass the bag over in the direction of my other hand, and I'm sure I could find it on my own—"
Predictably enough, Itachi's eyes narrow at the subtle challenge, and Sakura actually bites her lip to keep from laughing as he half-turns away, discreetly closes his eyes, and then plunges one hand into the depths of her bag. After a few moments of awkwardly groping around (in which he desperately tries not to think about the fact that his fingers brush something short and silky, several things that are most definitely scant and lacy, as well as something that feels suspiciously like strawberry pocky), he finally extricates the container of disinfectant cream, looking rather pained as he holds it out to her. "Here."
For a moment, he can swear that Sakura smirks very slightly as she offers her arm to him once again. Shizune had helped her brew this, almost immediately before she had left Konoha, and it still smells strongly of the fresh herbs and natural astringents that they had used, which means that it has kept its potency for the past eight months or so. It's enough to make her wince when Itachi places a small amount on his fingers and starts rubbing it into her arm, with slow, thorough strokes. After just a few moments of this, she begins grimacing for another reason entirely – naturally, the feeling of his firm, calloused palms touching her like this brings back memories of what had happened a few days ago, and—
Not going to think about it, Sakura reminds herself determinedly. In a rather sorry attempt to distract herself from the memories that are currently repeating and rewinding in agonizingly slow motion, she tilts her head back toward the sky, feeling the moisture in the air. "You never answered my question," she reminds him mercilessly – it takes a hell of a lot to startle Itachi, of all people, and from what she had seen of his expression earlier, something had definitely set his nerves on edge.
Again, he takes a little while to reply, as he withdraws a length of bandages from the roll that had – thankfully – fallen out of Sakura's bag on its own accord; he doesn't think he can really withstand another ordeal like that again. "It was nothing," Itachi says at last, after he severs a piece and then begins to wrap it around the cleaned and disinfected cut with his customary precision.
Sakura watches him through veiled eyelashes, taking note of the unusually evasive answer. His head is inclined a little over her arm, so that his long, dark bangs obscure his eyes and most of what she can see of his face. As if sensing her scrutiny, he carefully finishes wrapping the bandages, and again, to her eternal amusement – he ties the loose ends in a small, neat bow, retaining his completely blank expression as he does so, looking back up at her. "You can merely say that it was a case of mistaken identity, Sakura," he clarifies softly, the expression in his eyes utterly inscrutable.
At first, Sakura has nothing to say to this, and she just tilts her head, puzzled – who else is out here, anyway? Who else that he would know? And, aside from that weird feeling she's had all day; she hasn't sensed anything too significantly out of sorts, either—
The whirring of her mind is abruptly interrupted, of all things, by a sudden, intense wave of exhaustion that seems to sweep over her all at once. The medic in Sakura realizes it as a response to the trauma and extensive blood loss she had experienced, even with Itachi's exceptional care, but before she can even finish this thought to completion, she gives a mortifyingly tiny squeak of a yawn that actually makes her partner's mouth quirk up a little bit at the edges. "You should rest," he decrees, looking her over again. "We have no iron-rich food to help you regain your strength – sleep is the only way you will be in proper working condition by early evening."
Proper working condition? Sakura fights to stifle a snort and the impulse to inform him that she isn't some kind of toy. "We can't afford to stop now," she counters, as practically as always. "The Cloud team will be regaining consciousness soon, and then—"
Itachi shakes his head dismissively. "I modified your genjutsu somewhat."
Upon registering this statement, Sakura's jaw actually drops out of sheer horror. "You didn't—" she begins to protest, immediately imagining the worst, and trying to pull herself into a standing position.
Itachi only gives her a quelling look. "Do you really think so little of me, Sakura?" he inquires, almost coldly.
"I - …oh." And with that, Sakura feels herself blush, and her knees buckle again, depositing her flatly against the old, mossy tree she had been leaning against. "…Sorry," she mumbles, although she can't quite bring herself to look at him.
Itachi says nothing, although a few moments later, she feels rather than sees him settle down, about a foot away from her. He is silent, as usual, a spot of black and red against the blurred, muted dark greens and browns of the surrounding swampland, and the clear crystal of the river. His eyes shine crimson, but instead of unnerving her as usual, Sakura actually feels herself relax, at his side. She will never forget that, despite and above everything else, Itachi is just plain scary – but maybe she's imagining it, but there is something ever-so-slightly reassuring about his presence, today. She is not in the business of lying to herself, and she hates to acknowledge it, but…she feels safe, around him. Protected, almost.
Sakura actually has to bite back a gag at the voicing of this sentiment. Oh, it's definitely the blood loss speaking. She can most definitely protect herself – she won't ever need anybody to do that for her again.
After a few more moments of silent internal ranting on this subject, Sakura yawns again, feeling her eyelids slowly grow more and more leaden. She thinks she drifts off to sleep, but then wakes up a few minutes later (even unconsciously, she had realized that something was desperately wrong), her eyes snapping open out of pure, unadulterated shock.
"Sorry," she apologizes hastily, dragging herself away from Itachi's shoulder. "I so didn't mean to; I know how you hate the whole, uh, touchy thing and all," – except here, Sakura fleetingly wonders if, after all that's happened between them, Itachi still despises touching – "and, um, I sincerely apologize and stuff, and—"
Itachi watches the thoroughly drowsy and frightened girl babble on incoherently for another few moments and then, when he has tired of it, simply lets his fingers close around her wrist as he pulls her back to him. His movements and touch are carefully clinical and matter-of-fact, never lingering for even a fraction of a second too long, but still, Sakura's eyes are wide as she feels her cheek collide with his shoulder all over again. "What—" she manages weakly, now feeling even more disoriented than before.
"Just go to sleep," Itachi instructs, a little stiffly. "You need it."
Oh, kami, of all the times for him to develop a sense of consideration, Sakura glowers unhappily, even as she subconsciously angles herself a little closer to him – he's much more comfortable than the tree. Itachi responds by shifting his arm a little, letting the side of her body rest against his chest, her head nestling underneath the line of his jaw. Even though she should be tired enough for this to have no effect on her, the simple action, dismayingly enough, effectively sets her hormones on fire.
Sakura is rather busy marveling at the sheer novelty of the situation – his scent, the feeling of his lean muscles underneath hers, his long, silky ponytail half-caught underneath her cheek, the steady rhythm of the pulse at the side of his throat against her forehead and temples…
Please, merciful higher powers, kill me now, Sakura pleads desperately, upon realizing what she's doing, immediately after this latest observation. For the kami's sake, she sounds like…like…some kind of lovesick teenage girl.
Oh, the horror.
-
A few minutes later, Itachi finally glances down at her – she is curled against his chest, now sleeping very soundly, her bangs having fluttered down over the front of her face in a way that is too dangerously close to endearing for his tastes. Except, then he realizes that, for some completely incomphrensible reason, Sakura is actually scowling in her sleep, looking so irritated that he half expects her to sit bolt upright and snap at him for some trivial reason or another, at any given moment.
He shouldn't have done this; he shouldn't have offered this. He should have known the effect it would have on him.
Sakura presses herself a little closer in her sleep, even as she frowns more intensely. Lightly, tentatively, Itachi brushes the few strands of hair stirred by the wind out of her face, gently tucking them behind her ear, as a slow, cool breeze blows through the swamp, rippling the river ever so slightly.
-
As soon as Sakura wakes up, she realizes three things.
First, it's a little past early evening, which means that she has just overslept, which is not good. Secondly, she feels better than she has in a long while – which may have something to do with the fact that she is still curled securely against Itachi, her face turned against his neck. And third…well, third…
Sakura pulls away a fraction of an inch, looking up at Itachi inquistively. He is asleep – or, appears to be, at least. How very, ridiculously, utterly…novel.
Somewhat unsure of how to feel about this latest development in a string of already-confusing-enough developments, the pink-haired kunoichi untangles herself from her partner somewhat reluctantly, before standing up and stretching. Her leg muscles feel cramped and constrained after the strain of the day, and she takes one last look back at Itachi – damn it, he is just so pretty when he sleeps that that it's really quite demoralizing – before aimlessly beginning to follow the river south.
The terrain is so confusing and completely foreign that her progress is slow, but her curiosity pushes her on anyway; curiosity about what Itachi had sensed earlier, as well as the new country itself. She has never been to Lighting or anywhere remotely like it, and now that she is in a somewhat better mood, Sakura has to admit that it is beautiful, in a strange, eerie kind of way. She doesn't know how long she just wanders along the river, careful not to trip over any of the trailing vines or get her boots stuck in any of the damp patches of mud, just lost in her thoughts. Between assignments and interactions with Itachi, she doesn't really get time to just think anymore – just in the shower, for about twenty minutes a day, really. Which isn't ever enough.
"Are you sure she's here?"
The voice is so soft and faint that she can barely hear it, and honestly, at first Sakura just nods absentmindedly. She is sure about that, yes—
And then she stops, mid-step, when she realizes that the voice hadn't been some kind of weird internal monologue. It had been an actual voice, and involuntarily, Sakura draws her arms back to herself defensively, remembering exactly how her last encounter with the Root captain had begun. But wait, it can't be – he's dead…
"Of course."
What the hell, Itachi?
She can barely hear it, yes – the voices are coming from quite a distance upriver, from the shelter of some sort of glade – but it sounds so much like her partner that Sakura just blinks, nonplussed, as she realizes her mistake. It sounds so much like Itachi, yeah, but he's all the way back there, and Itachi's tone is also just a shade deeper than whoever this new person is.
…Oh, kami.
She feels the blood start to drain out of her face, leaving her skin ashen. Sakura doesn't recall making the conscious decision to keep walking forward, slowing her step, taking care to be as quiet as possible, and barely even breathing, for more ways than one. Her senses aren't as honed and acute as Kiba and Shino's, but her hearing is somewhat better than average, and…and…she can't even think straight right now, she really can't.
Her chakra is still a little low, but she masks it flawlessly, and activates a concealment genjutsu that wavers somewhat. She is at the edges of the glade, now, just far enough away from them to make sure that they don't see her…
Sakura is vaguely conscious of her fingers digging into the moss-covered bark of the nearest tree, enough for the sensitive skin at her fingertips to almost bleed. All she can see are three rather distinctive-looking individuals, all of them with their backs to her – there is a girl with flame-red hair, haphazardly chopped off at one side and left to grow sleek and long on the other, and a taller male on one side of her, dressed in pale purple, with ivory hair that falls to the middle of his back. The figure that draws her attention most thus far is this absolutely huge guy in the center, swathed in black pants, a tan shirt, and a blue cloak – along with spiky orange-blonde hair.
"You should rest, or something," the really tall one says, in a voice that is surprisingly soft, coming from somebody of his size. "We've covered over a hundred miles in the past few hours, and you've led the way for the entire time."
Much to her intense displeasure, Sakura can't see anything past the three in front of her, but… "We've come this far," the Itachi-sounding voice (she can't bring herself to think his name just yet), says tersely. "We have to—"
This time, the red-haired girl is the one who speaks. "We'll find her," she replies reassuringly, tossing her hair back and sounding very sure of herself. "Don't worry."
Sakura closes her eyes, then, even though this definitely isn't wise. Her head is pounding at the same rate as her heart, spinning so fast that she isn't sure that she is even standing up straight anymore.
It takes a few minutes for her to somewhat regain her composure, and when she does, the small glade is empty. Her flushed, trembling forehead is resting against the tree in an attempt to steady herself, her breaths coming faster than normal. It takes even longer for her to even attempt walking, but when Sakura does, she belatedly realizes that she really has no idea where she's going, but her feet seem to have a different idea, leading her slowly, unquestionably, in his direction.
She finds him five minutes into the glade, and lets the concealment genjutsu flicker off as she just stares at him. Takes him in, after so long.
Sakura's first, ridiculous, thought is that this feels anti-climactic. Really, obnoxiously anti-climactic. The first time she sees him after so long, after everything – she had dreamed about punching him through a few concrete walls, or right through a couple of trees and straight into a wall of solid bedrock. About looking down at his bruised, utterly shocked face with an expression of nothing less than complete dispassion, and saying, "You're welcome."
Instead, Sasuke is lying with his back braced against a tree and his legs half-drawn up to his chest, sound asleep. Nearer to unconsciousness, really, looking so bone-weary that it almost makes her hurt just to look at him, for a number of reasons. Sakura is faintly aware of lifting her hand to her throat, feeling her breath catch, as she inhales and exhales in a way that feels painful.
He looks so different. He's changed his outfit, and wears dark pants, a matching, close-fitting shirt with elbow-length sleeves, and a black flak vest over it. Even in sleep, Sasuke looks harder, sharper, so much more jaded than he had been even the last time she had seen him, and Sakura blinks as she observes the last change in his appearance. His hair falls bluntly to his shoulders, now, tied back in a ponytail at the nape of the neck, and he looks so much like Itachi that it makes her head spin even more.
Once, about a year ago, when she had been sparring with Shikamaru, he had accidentally broken three of her ribs in three individual places on each bone. She had healed them, and they had felt alright, but a week later, during some mission or another, she had taken one hit to the ribs, and the same three bones that had broken earlier broke all over again in all the same places, and very nearly punctured one of her lungs that time around. It had been the most physical pain that she had ever been in.
This is easily a million times worse.
Sakura doesn't cry (just barely), and she knows it's stupid, but she smoothes a few locks of hair behind one of her ears with a hand that shakes slightly, before slowly sinking to her knees in front of the still-sleeping Sasuke.
He's…looking for her. Wants her, for whatever reason.
This has implications that she doesn't even want to think about – but regardless, all Sakura can wrap her mind around is that this hurts so much more than she had ever anticipated it would.
-
It has been nine or ten months since they have seen each other, and already, Sasuke's skill has grown in leaps and bounds so great that it is almost frightening.
Maybe, subconsciously, he had known that the chakra signature he had caught the faintest, most barely-there trace of had been Sasuke's. But his younger brother had been so elusive that even Itachi had difficulty tracking him down, during the period of time when Sakura had been engaged in combat with the Cloud team…and just when he had detected the flare of chakra that marked a slight slip of Sasuke's concealment genjutsu, he had simultaneously felt a sharp decrease in Sakura's, for reasons unknown.
It had been – unimaginably difficult. Everything that Itachi had gone through in his last life had been for Sasuke. Everything. He loves his younger brother, yes; would do anything to protect him. He has always known this, but…try as he might, he cannot deny that, over time, he has developed somewhat similar protective instincts toward Sakura as well. This is an utterly novel concept that complicates things far too much, and for a split second, Itachi had been torn. But he had gone back to Sakura, and for good reason…even though, for the entire time he had been healing her arm, he had simply been unable to think of anything else besides Sasuke. What was one supposed to do, in a situation like this?
Itachi is one of, if not the most, intelligent individuals of his time – and it did not take a prodigy to deduce that Sasuke's sudden appearance in this location was most certainly not coincidence. The loud, irritating red-haired female on his team appeared to be a tracker, and the arrogant little Mist-nin seemed to have similar skills. Judging from the pace and the thoroughness of their progress through the Lightning's swampland, Sasuke was most definitely dead-set on finding something.
And, judging from their history, that something just happened to be Sakura.
Speaking of which, Itachi had no idea how to answer her queries regarding his sudden flight – could he really have told Sakura that he had just found out that his younger brother was in the area, desperately pursuing her, with presumable intent to absorb her into his little…team? The thought leaves a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth, but it is overwhelmingly likely that Sakura would want to go with Sasuke, if they were to encounter one another – and…kami, telling Sakura would have been the right thing to do, but Itachi simply could not bring himself to do it, for reasons that even he cannot understand.
His thoughts had literally been so tormented that considering the issue had given him an awful headache – and he hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep, until his eyes had snapped open, and he had found himself alone underneath the tree.
Itachi's last words had been to Sasuke. His younger brother's shocked expression had been the last sight he had seen on this world.
And now…inexplicably enough, against all odds, here they are again. Sasuke looks even more drawn and almost gaunt than he had during their battle, and much older than his fifteen-almost-sixteen years. His eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling steadily, and Itachi can't help but realize that they both sleep and sit in the exact same pose, with their knees drawn halfway to their chest, arms wrapped around them loosely.
And for a moment, Itachi despises Pein and Konan with every fiber of his being, because he just does not know what to do. According to his most recent communication with Madara, Sasuke knows the truth about…everything, but – can either of them handle seeing each other now, like this? Would it be better for the two of them if they could reconcile, or if…Sasuke just continued to believe that he is dead?
These are probably the only questions that Itachi simply does not know how to answer.
Part of him wants to turn away, to melt and disappear back into the shadows, because the expression on Sakura's face, in her eyes, as she gazes at Sasuke, encompasses such a wide range of emotions that he feels as if he is invading her privacy by even looking at her. She looks more even more raw and vulnerable than she had been on the night of her sixteenth birthday, even though she isn't crying now.
Itachi admits to idly wondering about the specifics of Sasuke and Sakura's relationship with one another on earlier occasions, but – well, considering what he sees now, there is no longer anything to wonder about.
He turns around and walks away, and most definitely does not feel something small and unrecognizable constrict within him.
-
To Itachi's surprise, Sakura returns to their area of the swamp about fifteen minutes later. She still looks pale and a little lost – like she has just seen a ghost.
He tries not to notice this as he rises from his place on the ground, crossing the distance between them in a few strides, and then settles the strap of her forgotten bag over one of her delicate shoulders, and Sakura just blinks at him. "What…" she begins, a little uncertainly.
For a fraction of a second, Itachi considers it. It wouldn't be too difficult at all – she is looking up at him already, her head tilted inquitively, at an angle; he could just put his hands on her hips and pull her just a little bit closer, lean a few inches lower until he can press her lips to hers—
But then he remembers Sasuke.
"Take care, Sakura," Itachi tells her quietly, folding his arms deeper into his Akatsuki cloak, to forestall any temptations of doing something else untoward.
Perhaps it's just the shock of her recent encounter with Sasuke, but Sakura just blinks again. "I – what? Are you…"
The depth of her confusion gives Itachi momentary pause, and he raises an eyebrow. "…I was under the impression that you and my brother were—"
Sakura turns away sharply, her hair shielding her face, and just like that, she starts to walk away – but in the opposite direction of Sasuke's makeshift camp. "No," she replies sharply, avoiding his eyes. "God, no."
Decidedly nonplussed, Itachi follows her, throwing a last, long look back at the glade where his younger brother lies. If he and Sasuke are meant to meet again – well, now does not seem to be the appropriate time for such things.
The two of them walk in tense silence for another hour, until they eventually stumble out of the swamp and into a small border town. It can hardly be called that, anyway – it's more like a glorified rest stop, with just a tiny inn and a few places to eat. Itachi purchases them a room that looks more like a refurbished broom closet, and the second they walk into it and close the door behind them, Sakura turns on him, suddenly looking furious enough to attempt clawing his eyes out. "Why didn't you tell me, damn it? You knew he was there from the very beginning!"
The barely-repressed anger in her voice throws Itachi for a loop for the barest of moments, before he recovers somewhat and arches one eyebrow, again. "If you and Sasuke are not – well, then, I do not see why it matters so much," he returns, keeping his voice impassive – he'll be damned if he tells her the real reason.
This statement actually makes Sakura stop in her tracks for a moment, and then she takes one step closer, glaring up at him with a vehemence unlike anything he's seen before. "Were you afraid that I would – choose to go with him, or something? Is that it?"
"Well," Itachi returns sardonically, for once losing just a tiny bit of his icy self-control. "I do wonder what gave me that impression."
Sakura just stares at him for a few moments, looking like she has a million things she wants to say, but then, surprisingly enough, she backs down, turning away again. "You have no idea," she replies tersely, "what you're talking about."
"I believe I do, actually."
In the next second, Itachi barely manages to catch the chakra-enhanced fist that had been aimed squarely at his face. "I hate him!" Sakura fairly screeches, pulling herself back and backing away, to the opposite wall. "You just don't get it, do you? This is all his fault!"
"I—" – then Sakura's statement fully registers, and Itachi stares back at her, his bloodline limit activating of its own accord – "…What?"
Sakura starts pacing the length of the room angrily, looking like a tiger constrained in a too-small cage. "You heard me," she hisses. "If he hadn't been such a damned, selfish idiot who freaking turned traitor and left, then none of this would have happened! None of us would have gone on a mission to hunt the both of you down, so Danzou wouldn't have had an opportunity to revolt, and even if he did, we would have quelled it and killed his sorry ass, and…it's all his fault!"
She turns toward the wall, looking like she wants nothing more than to punch right through it, and Itachi just blinks. "…Your logic is faulty," he says, at last, and the words lie heavily in the space between them. "You are blaming the wrong person."
Sakura gives him a steely glare, placing her hands on her hips. "Oh, really?" she asks, her voice dripping sarcasm.
Itachi closes the gap between them again, fairly backing her against the wall, and even Sakura's own anger isn't enough to keep a slight shiver of apprehension from going down her spine. "I murdered my family, remember?" he hisses. "I told Sasuke that what he was doing wasn't enough. I told him to do whatever it took to become stronger – to become strong enough to kill me and avenge the clan that I killed so very ruthlessly. Sasuke did nothing but listen to me, and because of that – because he left and sought training with Orochimaru, after two and a half years, he was strong enough to kill me. If you seek to blame anybody for this, Sakura, it should be me."
Itachi has always prided himself on his acting ability, but to his surprise, Sakura just shakes her head, looking up at him calmly. "No. And, you know what? Don't make excuses for him; he should have seen through it. There were too many flaws in your story. Too many inconsistencies. And don't even try to tell me that it was his training with that snake bastard that made him strong enough to kill you – it was your…sickness, Itachi. The terminal one you've had since birth and were diagnosed with at six. And you just let Sasuke believe that he killed you."
For the first time, for the briefest of seconds, Sakura sees nothing but raw emotion flicker through Itachi's normally impassive features. And before she even has enough time to feel amazed, she is pressed up against the wall, his hand curled around her throat. He has leaned down enough so that their noses are barely an inch apart, and his thumb rests squarely on a pressure point that could kill her if he even pushes down a centimeter's worth – but his hand is exerting no force whatsoever, merely holding her in place. A squeak of surprise dies in her throat, and Sakura just stops breathing out of sheer anxiety, her eyes locking with the swirling crimson-and-black pinwheels of the Sharingan. "Who told you that?" Itachi fairly whispers, his voice more hoarse than she has ever heard it.
So it is true.
Sakura meets his gaze fearlessly, now, although her voice is a little smaller than she would have liked. "…Danzou," she replies, at last. "He – after we all returned from our mission, and he forced Kakashi-sensei to report to him. He told all of us about…everything."
She is vaguely conscious of Itachi pulling himself up to his full height, before releasing her and turning away, and Sakura can't help but think about how it must feel, to have the secret that he's suffered with for the past almost-six years be exposed to the world like that.
"I suppose he would have found the irony amusing."
Itachi's voice is surprisingly strained, and Sakura nods once, even though his back is still to her.
As if by mutual agreement, the two of them move to the small bed and sit side-by-side on it, even though they are miles away in thought.
"You know," Sakura says at last, quietly, as she looks at a fixed spot on the wall. "Even before I knew, I guess I always subconsciously thought that something about it…wasn't quite right."
Itachi stares at a separate fixed spot at the same wall. "…Perhaps that is just because you are a clever girl, Sakura."
Despite the gravity of their situation, Sakura can't help but smile at the wall a little – this is probably the first compliment he has ever given her. "Thanks."
They are silent for a long while, before Itachi speaks up again. "Even if you believe that he should have seen through the façade – do not blame Sasuke."
Sakura twirls a few strands of hair around one finger absentmindedly. "Yeah, but – I mean, even if he was dead set on…" she looks over at Itachi hesitantly, somewhat tripping over her words. "…Killing you, or whatever – he didn't have to let it consume him like that. Even if revenge was what he wanted, we could have helped him. Kakashi-sensei could have trained him, Naruto would have been his best friend, and I could have—"
Sakura's gaze drops to the floor, trailing off mid-sentence, and abruptly, she gets off the bed and makes her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
-
When Sakura comes out again, she is dry-eyed and completely composed, and neither of them makes any further reference to their earlier conversation.
It is not until late that night, after they have performed an assignment in the next town west and then returned to their inn, that it comes up again. Sakura had been unusually quiet for the remainder of the day, and Itachi had been even more tense than usual – but now, they are both curled under the thin covers of the hard, unfamiliar bed, staring at opposite walls of the room, while lost in their own thoughts.
"…If it is any consolation, I do not think that Sasuke would have found it easy to leave you behind." Itachi's voice is so quiet that it is almost lost in the steady hum of the small wooden ceiling fan, and after a few minutes, when she does not reply, he half-sits up and looks over at Sakura – who is hugging an extra pillow close to her chest, sound asleep.
He lowers himself back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling contemplatively.
Maybe it is better that way, after all.
to be continued
Sorry that it took a little bit longer for me to get this chapter out. I also wanted to say that, for those of you who remember the problems I talked about in my author's note at the end of the first chapter - last night, my mom had to go to the hospital, and...it's pretty serious. I don't know when she's going to come back home.
It might take me slightly longer than usual to finish the next chapter (in which the Akatsuki and their new plan for world domination come into play), because things are pretty rough around here.
But still, thank you so much to everybody who's left comments thus far. It means a lot to me. :)
