Itachi left Sakura cold, especially when day stretched into night and he did not return to their room. As she lay in bed alone, her stomach churned and she fought the urge to be sick, wishing the room would stop spinning and her mind would let her rest. She didn't know the man who had threatened her, who had promised to do things she'd told him not to. He was a stranger. Itachi was a stranger.

Was that who he was? She'd thought him to be broken and scarred in his own way, not truly cruel and evil. But was he? He'd seemed too dignified for such vulgarity. But he'd stripped her of all her confidence in him and left her fearfully in the dark. He was all she had now, and he'd vanished from beneath her. And now she was spiraling and couldn't regain any control.

What had he meant? That he could think of something worse? For her? The way he'd said that… She'd really pissed him off, and he'd seriously scared the hell out of her.

Once she'd calmed down and all her anger had drained away, she was appalled and embarrassed and regretful of her own behavior. She closed her eyes, whimpering. Why couldn't he have just let her throw her tantrum? She hadn't meant any of it. She was just…

She'd been so relieved to know that her life involving Sasuke was finally over, that she didn't have to face that side of her anymore. That weak, angry, pitiful side of herself that had by some source of luck managed to fight Sasuke off. And almost kill him. Itachi was right. She shouldn't have taken it personally. He'd only done the most logical thing.

She'd just been so happy. The horror she'd felt upon crushing Sasuke like that…upon knowing that she held that power in her hands now, had scared her. She'd known then that she would never be able to wield her chakra the way she'd used to. She couldn't. Not knowing that she could do that. All she'd wanted was to get it over with before she lost her nerve, before she recovered her senses and put aside her life as a shinobi for good. She'd thought it was all over…

She'd wanted to do it herself.

"Don't touch me!"

Groaning, she turned over and buried her face into her pillow. Why had she said that? She'd just been so furious, and she said it instinctively, not thinking, and oh, what crimes she'd commit if she could only take it back. He couldn't honestly think she'd meant it. She was fine with how territorial he was. In fact, she preferred it. It made her feel safe, made her feel wanted. She wanted Itachi to touch her, so much more than she cared if Sasuke was dead or not. She wanted her baby, damn it!

How on earth was she even supposed to make it up to him? It's not like an apology was going to suffice, and this wasn't exactly a flowers-and-chocolates situation. She sighed and tried to think back, to each of their conversations, searching for something she could use to help her. No… All of their interactions had just been heated, full of fire… There'd been tension between them since day one, whether she hadn't recognized it until later or not. She'd never had this kind of relationship with a man… She couldn't lose him now!

The night dragged on and nothing changed. She grew more lonely, and her heart throbbed more painfully, and her mind grew weary and desperate for sleep. But it wouldn't come. All she was doing was thinking in circles, stressing herself out, proving how helpless she really was.

No. She couldn't be useless with Itachi. She needed to make a place for herself permanently in Itachi's life. That was just how it was going to have to be. She just had to tell him.

She had to find equal ground.

She breathed out, sinking into her pillow. Yes, that was it. If they could find a way to meet on level footing, then she would be able to be what he wanted. There could be no more headstrong, stubborn, and temperamental. Itachi was drawn to her fire, she knew, but it was time to tone things down and stop being so…young. She couldn't react to everything brashly without thinking things through. There had to be a balance. She had to be mature about things. She had to give back. Only then could Itachi trust her to handle situations on her own. No more screaming at him. No more breaking beneath his pressure. She would do everything she could for him. She had to.

She had nothing else to live for.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves like water, setting the green on fire and spreading a mirage of shifting light across the forest floor. The brush rustled softly against the breeze, and as the trees of Konoha whispered to each other softly, Sakura smiled and closed her eyes, letting her heart join theirs in sweet, nostalgic bliss. The air was warm on her bare skin. She tilted her head back to catch the sun on her face.

For so long she'd been cold and empty. Something inside her had been broken, torn apart by self-hate, self-loathing, words that held her down and ripped her open from the inside out. Chilling her bones, casting circles beneath her eyes, squeezing her lungs dry. All she'd known was panic, fear, and hurt.

Not anymore, though. That part of her life was over now. She was safe in the arms of her land of leaves, of trees in their peaceful, never-ending slumber. She adored her trees, made of emerald leaves and rich, dark bark. They gave her shelter, air, shade, refreshment.

They awoke and reached out to her, brushing her arms with their branches. The edges of their leaves tickled her skin and tossed her head back to laugh, long pink tresses dancing as the wind caught them and tossed them carelessly in the air. With a joyful shout, she spun forward, dancing with the playful leaves, darting among the trees and their long, willowy arms. She was in love with this place, her ethereal, eternal springtime.

The root shot out of the ground so unexpectedly, she didn't even see it until it snatched her ankle and twisted. She gasped, stumbling, watching its shrewd, withered form coil away from her, alive and ready to strike. Just above her bare foot gleamed a thin line of raw flesh where the skin had been stripped away. It gave her no time to react. It whipped out again, lashing across both of her legs this time.

The sting and the surprise was enough reason to cry out, and as she scrambled away from it, the pain intensified to a searing burn that reached right down to her bone. More roots and branches were breaching the earth suddenly, like the living dead, and they gathered all around her, taking turns in striking her, over and over, until she was bloody and bruised and numb. Writhing on the ground, she cried, tears hot and salty, and when she tried to hide them in shame, they left blisters on her palms and melted the skin off her cheeks. She buried her face into the dirt, calling out to her chakra and finding it was nowhere to be found.

"Sakura?"

She gasped and jerked up from the ground at her name, covered in blood, covered in dirt. The malicious roots had disappeared, and she was in her eternal paradise again. Only her wounds had not healed. She did not belong here like this. She was too horrid, too terrible, to belong in this radiant place.

"Sakura!"

She looked over her shoulder and found him standing there, his familiar shock of yellow hair and those bright azure eyes. He grinned at her, as if he didn't notice her scars. How could he look at her like that? How could he smile as if nothing had changed, as if she could possibly still find a place by his side? But there he was, waving his hands anxiously in the air, and sprinting toward her eagerly. It should have taken only seconds for him to reach her, but seconds passed to minutes, and he never got any closer. She tried to move to him instead, and discovered she couldn't even lift her feet. The roots were back again, and now they wrapped around her ankles, just tight enough to hold her in place. Every time she jerked or pulled, they only became tighter.

She watched as her friend chased after her, anxious to be with her, and cried desperately, unable to return to him. Unable to speak or move, she remained forever far from him, from his joyous face. Minutes ticked by into hours, and hours to days, and time itself remained as unmoving as the trees. The trees swaying dangerously to and fro, dipping low and creaking as the sky twisted from blue to grey and the wind picked up with an angry howl.

The figure in black appeared as abruptly as the roots had, as if he had come alive from the shadows at their feet. She tried to cry out, tried to warn him, tried to rush forward, but she was still stuck, still helpless. She had abandoned him, betrayed him, and now she could see him so close to death and she couldn't do a thing.

The shadow convulsed and twisted until it became solid, its malleable form turning to mock her with cold, brilliant eyes of red. He stared just long enough for her to see him, and then he turned to the blonde, so stupidly oblivious to the danger right beside him, still running in place to a destination he'd never reach. Calloused, practiced hands reached for the hilt of the katana on his back, its blade ringing like a death-rattle as it left its sheath, and in one swift movement, it sliced cleanly through the boy's neck.

It was so abrupt, she doubted he felt any pain. His head just tumbled to the ground, eyes wide, mouth grinning, and she could hear herself screaming and she couldn't open her eyes.

"Naruto!" the scream flew from her throat before she was even fully awake, and as she jerked her whole body upright, away from her nightmare, the tears poured like lava down her face. She cried out weakly, wiping the tears away frantically where they burned her cheeks, and she half expected her hands to come away bloody and sore.

She brought her forehead to her knees and sobbed, folding her arms over her head and burying herself in the darkness. This was too much. She couldn't handle this. Her body heaved and she made no effort to conceal her loud, hiccupping sobs. Why bother? Why bother with anything anymore? Not when it was so clearly laid about before her. Her betrayal. Naruto's death. She let out a wordless scream, let it out until she was too weak to scream anymore.

"Oh, Naruto…" she whimpered, body shaking uncontrollably. What else could she do? Ignore it? Act like she didn't care? No. No matter what she did, she would never become that person. "Naruto… Naruto…"

She had just started to get used to it. Really get used to her new life, the decisions she'd made, and the consequences they'd hold. But hell if she didn't just want her friend back. All of them. Naruto, Sai, Kakashi, Ino, Shikamaru, Tsunade… She just wanted them back. She just wanted to go back in time, suck it up, forget about Sasuke, and move the fuck on. But there was no doing that now.

Her heart clenched, tightened, and throbbed. Why, of all people, Naruto? Naruto, who was kinder and more generous and more inspiring than any person she'd ever met. Why was he the one with the sealed fate? With the shitty life? Why did he end up with what the rest of them all deserved?

She didn't know much time had passed when strong, steady arms encircled her body. With a choked cry, she fell into his chest, gripping the familiar fabric of his shirt, and clung to him as she wept. He only held her tighter. His embrace was like air itself, and if he left… If he left, she'd have nothing. No Naruto. No Konoha. No anything. He was all she had left to live for. He was the only one remaining.

Time passed slowly, and she mourned slowly and loudly and he rocked her gently, never speaking or shushing her. He held her, and in that long stretch of eternity, her misery took the night too quickly. She wanted to remain there, soaking in her despair and hiding in the shard of light he gave her by holding her like this.

But the daybreak had to come, and soon, it peeked through the windows and wedged its way between them and as her tears finally ceased and she managed to quiet her sobs, neither of them moved and neither of them spoke. And they sat in silence, he wrapped around her and she curled so tightly she'd all but disappeared in his arms.

They sat in silence and let the daybreak push them onward.

She fell asleep shortly after dawn broke, her petite body limp and silent in his arms. Itachi sighed and placed his chin on her head, cradling her gently, so she wouldn't break. He liked the way she fit against him when he held her like this. He liked the calm and peace of mind it gave him. He'd never allowed himself to feel like this with anyone. But he found that he could live like this if he was given the chance. Holding her. Protecting her. Cherishing her.

Yes, he'd be okay with that.

He lay her back to bed after a moment, drawing the sheets up over her and taking the care not to disturb her as he did. Sitting next to her, he traced the edge of her face lightly with his finger, and was both relieved and disappointed when she didn't stir. She was out. Not that it mattered when she was with him. Here, she was safe.

Overcome by an urge, he twisted his body comfortably and lay down beside her, on his back with his head turned in her direction. He lifted his hand to touch her face again and brush through her hair slowly. Her face wasn't quite so blurry when he was this close to her, and the depth of her beauty surprised and enchanted him as deeply now as it had the first time he'd truly seen her. She took his breath away.

He leaned forward to kiss her tenderly, almost wishing that he could take back what he'd just done. He'd come to care for her in the small ways he could, and he found hurting her distasteful and unpleasant. She was such a bright light in his darkness, starlight against the night, white against his black. All his life, he'd surrounded himself with demons and death, and when she was near, he felt as though he'd found an angel in his hell.

"Never again, Sakura," he whispered softly, hoping and not hoping that she could somehow hear him in her sleep. "Never make me do those things to you again. I don't want to hurt you… Don't leave me with no choice…"

He brushed her cheek affectionately once more, then lifted himself off the bed and moved away from her. What he'd done made him hate himself, but it had been necessary. She'd wounded him, and he couldn't allow her to do as she pleased and remained unpunished. There were lines and limitations, and if she had to learn them the hard way… Then so be it.

The Sharingan, after all, was a powerful thing.

Sakura didn't know what time it was when Kisame came barging into her room, making remarks about beauty sleep and patience, but she nearly threw the bed at him. Grumbling, she sat up and rubbed her eyes awake, thinking on the night before bitterly. She wasn't ready to start this day. So when Kisame moved to pull her out of bed himself, she smacked him across the face.

She hadn't meant to use her chakra. It sort of just slipped. She yawned as Kisame flew backward into the door, knocking it from its hinges into the hallway. There was a chorus of gasps from outside, and of course, Kisame's astonished glare as he moved to get up, but she shrugged, staying where she was.

"I'll get up when I want," she said, and then slid off the bed onto the floor. "Now, put the door back and leave me alone before I hit you for real."

"You aren't the one in charge around here, pinky," he muttered, his fingers twitching. Sakura eyed the hilts protruding from behind his shoulders… No, he wouldn't dare.

"When it comes to my sleep, I am," she retorted, waving him away with an overdramatized hand gesture. "Shoo. You fish people have no manners."

"You're just lucky your Itachi's captive and not mine," he snarled, snatching up the door like it was a piece of paper.

"And you're lucky you don't need water to breathe," she snapped back. He didn't find it as funny as she did. He just glared at it, slammed the door down so it was propped up in the doorway, and retreated noisily down the hall. She snorted. "Well excuse me."

That hadn't exactly been the way she'd wanted to start her new non-confrontational lifestyle. She sighed and began to get dressed. Oh well. You couldn't make a dog fly, could you? She paused, halfway inside her pants. Well, she supposed you probably could with the right jutsu…

She had to move the entire door to get out of her room without knocking it over again, and as she hurried down the stairs, she could only hope nobody would say anything to her about it. Akatsuki could pay for it. She was broke. Kisame was waiting for her downstairs, and by the time she joined him, he looked as if he'd more or less recovered from his wounded ego. Kisame was a simple man. She liked that.

"So, did you find Sasuke last night?" she asked as they headed outside. He glanced down at her in surprise—maybe he hadn't known Itachi would tell her—but then he threw his head back and laughed. She'd take that as a yes.

They found Itachi at the town entrance, and without a word, they were on their way. He didn't so much as look at her as they approached, so she couldn't tell if he was just being stoic or if he was still angry with her, even after last night. After her breakdown, there was no telling.

Not long from now, they'd reach the safe house, Sakura realized, and if she left things like this, things would never be the same between them. They'd only had a short while to come to know each other, but she wanted him to know that he deserved more than a means to an end. He needed to know how much she offered him.

And then he could decide what to do with it.

She got her chance that night, when they made camp and Kisame slipped away like he usually did to scout the area and place a perimeter around their location. He didn't sulk or do any of the nonsense her teammates had always done, but he made his fire and then settled against a tree, legs crossed, eyes shut. Not near her.

Sighing, she crawled over to him until she was by his side, and when he didn't react, she leaned over him carefully, so as not to touch him. Still, he said and did nothing. There was no way he couldn't hear her or sense her being so close to him. He was just ignoring her. Or maybe he was waiting. Smiling sadly, she closed her own eyes and focused on Itachi, reaching out to him with her chakra and searching his body. Studying his steady heartbeat, his healthy chakra flow…until she found it.

Much like she'd found in researching Kakashi's Sharingan, there was an enormous tumor of pent-up chakra building around Itachi's eyes. Except, where Kakashi's had been more or less mild, Itachi's condition was by fair severe.

Excessive Sharingan-use could cause chakra to gather at the nerve endings around the eyes, where it would gradually grow until it became physically painful. Unused and stagnant, the buildup of chakra would erode the eyes, making it harder to see as time went on without restoration. Eventually, the eyes would give out due to the consistent exposure to such a powerful substance, and become blind.

Itachi was very close to reaching that time.

She opened her eyes and very slowly raised her hands, making sure he could feel all of her movements as she made them before she reached behind his head. Her fingers deftly tugged loose the knot of his hitai-ate and she removed it carefully to set on the ground. His hair swayed and she slipped her fingers within it, very lightly brushing her tips to the sides of his face, just near his eyes.

They popped open suddenly, the panic in them more prominent than his confusion. He knew what she was doing and he wanted to push her away, and for the first time, she saw a fear in Itachi's eyes that she couldn't comprehend. He stared at her, and she didn't move. Didn't make a sound. Waited for him to process and decide. And when he didn't protest, she softly pushed her chakra into his body. Panic flickered in his eyes again, but only briefly before he moaned quietly and relaxed against the tree, eyelids fluttering closed.

It was like she'd poured water inside his mind. Hell, it felt so good. So refreshing. So perfect. Ah, it had been so long since his head had felt that kind of relief. That ever-present agony behind his eyes ebbed away at her touch, and he moaned in surprise and pleasure, falling limp against the tree. He didn't know what to do with himself it felt so amazing. He just wanted to sit there and enjoy it.

The feeling of her inside him, her chakra so distinctive and familiar, gave him a growing sense of ease. It didn't put him on edge or feed his fears… He trusted her. He hadn't realized it until she was in him, taking away his greatest pain.

Was this her way of apologizing? Of erasing what she'd told him the night before? She wanted it no more than he did, that void that had come between them.

She was truly healing him. From the inside out. Her chakra shifted and resonated with a power so deep and true, he felt his anger, his hatred, his perpetual bitterness vanish. Unafraid, he let Sakura hold his life in her small, destructive, healing hands, and let himself enjoy the normalcy of having a woman—his woman—tend to him.

Long ago, he remembered, Itachi had contemplated his future before he'd been tainted by all his thoughts of murder and black and white. He, too, had once wished for the good, normal life of a loyal Konoha shinobi. Young and naïve, he'd set his sights on earning a respectable title, finding a good wife, and carrying on his clan's name and pride.

And Sakura, against all odds…was letting him have that.

He pulled her to him so abruptly she squeaked, her chakra retreating just like that, and he marveled that his head didn't pound when she removed her hands. Now, he could focus solely on her.

Her warm lips quickly accepted his, opening them to let in his tongue, and he explored her mouth swiftly and without delay. He wanted to know her…in and out. Running his hands down her back, he pulled her over him and she straddled him and moved her hips over his. She whimpered and he groaned, raising his arousal to brush against her through her clothing. Such friction…and the sounds she made when he did that… He gasped and lowered his mouth to her jaw, sucking and biting until he reached her ear.

Oh, he wanted to molest every crevice of her body, but if they continued he'd get careless. And if he lost his focus, then someone could find them and he'd be putting Sakura in danger. Or heaven forbid Kisame return.

Groaning unhappily, he grabbed her by the waist and forcibly moved her away from him to look her in the eyes, where he found a lust so great he nearly lost it again. He sighed and smiled and shook his head almost sadly, running his hand through her hair affectionately, willing her to understand. She pouted, but she didn't move to touch him again.

"Soon," he promised, and she sighed, running her fingers up his chest slowly. He exhaled and muttered, "Very, verysoon."

"Oh, I know," she said firmly, and then gave him a stern poke in the chest. He blinked at her. "I'm not letting you get away from me again, mister. As soon as we get to the safe house—"

Oh, god, he couldn't bear to hear her say it. He pushed his lips against hers once more, a lingering kiss to keep her from saying anything that would push him over the edge. But that kiss, meant as a distraction, became a promise…of something more than what awaited them at the safe house. He leaned away, ill at ease with the abrupt direction his thoughts had turned. She clambered off his lap and settled down beside him again, and then her hands were at his temple again.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, staring at her bemusedly.

"Finishing," she answered, as if he was silly for even asking. "If something ever goes wrong because you get a headache, or, I don't know, go blind, I am so not being held responsible. Now hush and let me do what I'm best at."

At that, he couldn't resist the urge to laugh, and was pleased when it made her smile. That spitfire sense of humor of hers…

Hell, he loved it.

Yes, Itachi gave Sakura the nightmare with his Sharingan. Oh, and just a fun fact for everyone (in case anyone happened to catch it before reading this, let me know, because I'll be thrilled) but the references to "daybreak" at the end of the scene when Sakura wakes was intentional. Anyone know the Japanese word for daybreak...? Eh? Anybody?

Tis Akatsuki. :o

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