The only Japanese will be names and cuss words (unless I can't find them). And they still will have the asterisks (*) and translations in at the bottom. If they're not here, they're in a previous chapter. Unimportant names—like store names that are irrelevant to the story and there for visual's sake—will be in English.

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The sun was warm on Karin's skin. The mud covering her breasts and down, however, had an herbal and cool feel to it. The worker smiled at Karin from above the mud bath. The woman had dark, black eyes and long, soft-looking, sky-blue hair. Karin liked her. She was nice. "Karin-sama, miss, the masseuse is waiting for you. Should I go tell her to take the next one so you can relax?"

Karin sighed, blowing on her freshly manicured nails. They were the color of Sasuke-kun's birthstone; they were a shining, bright, bloody red like that of both the ruby and the Sharingan. They were perfect and long, useful for scratching, which she liked to do. Nothing like Sakura's chipped, short, ugly green nails.

"No thank you," Karin told the woman. Try as she might, she could not remembered the woman's name. She avoided saying it as much as she could, because of that. It started with an E… "Tell her that I'm ready." Karin had already told the woman yes three times. Any longer and she wouldn't have time to go back to the motel before Sasuke-kun did.

"Yes, Karin-sama." The dark-eyed woman scurried away.

Karin loved this. She really, really loved this. Here in the Kongō Tanoshii, there were no little kids scampering around; no mice crawling over her toes; and no Sakura. Here, everyone waited on her, hand and foot. If she wanted a heart to eat, one of the workers would slice her own out and give it to her. Here, the only thing missing was Sasuke-kun, whose charka was clearing up from its murky, evil black to the lucid, bright navy blue it was when she first met him.

Karin stood from the sludge and waited as the workers toweled it off her. Another worker gave her a towel to wrap around herself. The same worker led her to the masseuse, readying her on the bed, back up.

Hands worked on her lower back. Karin felt her muscles loosen and the sudden need to coddle something. The woman had hit the root charka, the first charka. The hands moved up on her body, avoiding the towel covering her shiri. "Karin-sama, your first charka is immensely small. It is my guess that you don't like children, no?" The woman's voice was strong and trustable, her accent clipped. All the DenkiMachi had the same accent, even on the other side of town. They all spoke perfect Japanese, with the syllables tight and their vowels clipped.

Karin's eyes blinked open. The bamboo floor greeted her, light dancing across it as the flame on the surrounding candles flickered. "Kami no. Snot-nosed little brats." Karin trailed off into a moan when the woman's hands squirmed around her second charka. The woman's small thumb pressed down and Karin screamed.

"Ah," the woman sighed. "The second charka is large. You are a sexual woman, yes? It appears this part has been denied more than once, Karin-sama."

Karin tried not to arch her back. It was a close battle, but a battle won. This is what she got for getting a charka massage—she couldn't have just gotten a muscular one, no: she had to have the charka massage, because her seven charkas were all plugged. She wished he had left them plugged instead of getting them unplugged by a woman; it was embarrassing. The redhead gritted her teeth, waiting for the masseuse to move on. Slim fingers tenderized the muscle around the Sacral Plexus charka. After what seemed like hours, the woman's hands moved up.

"You have a strong will," the woman stated in her sharp voice. The process continued, each time the woman commenting on something about her charka—"Your heart is capable of loving, you must however love the right person" "Your spirit is weak" "You need more schooling" "Your common sense is blurred"—each time Karin trying harder not to voice her thoughts.

As the massage neared its end, Karin's thoughts traveled to Sasuke. Sasuke usually came home early, having nothing else to do, unless he did have something else to do. That didn't help at all, considering the fact that she didn't know what they were doing in DenkiMachi. Vacation? Mission? Killings? Who knew, with Sasuke? There was honestly a lot they could be doing in the Lightning Country—not a lot they could be doing in DenkiMachi, but…

Karin needed about five more minutes for make-up, another ten minutes for shopping… She saw a very nice little lingerie shop in the nice side of town. It would be red, like Sasuke's favorite color. His favorite color was red, right? He had never told her. It was hard to tell.

The redhead sighed as she lifted the towel covering her to her chest and sat up. The fluffy white towel covered her small, white breasts as she wrapped it around herself. Slipping her new and soft wicker sandals from the spa's gift shop, Karin stood up and went to the locker rooms in which her clothes was kept. Men of all shapes and sizes—some more eye-worthy than others—stripped themselves of their boxers, and Karin being Karin could not just let such a show go to waste, now could she?

She watched as a strong-looking thin man with a subtle six-pack ridded himself of his shirt. His thin self made her think of Suigetsu, with his strong arms and tasty abs that he never shows. Karin shook her head clear of thoughts of the blue-haired boy. Tonight was about her and Sasuke. Tonight she would make the Uchiha realize how much he needed—how much he wanted—her.

Karin turned from the slender guy and pulled on her own clothes. Time to shop. Time to make sure Suigetsu and Jūgo were out for the night. Where else but downtown DenkiMachi to get a whore that would take them two out of her hands for the night? And then the pink-haired minx… There had to be a job she could volunteer her for around this kudaranai* town; she could rent the minx out as a whore.

Karin would think about that later. Right now, she had lingerie to buy.

Suigetsu dipped a finger into the red wine staring up at him. Curling the white foam that the bartender put into it around the cup, Suigetsu looked up to Jūgo with boozed eyes. "Dude, we should…should hire some hookers. They need the work, ne?" Sui asked.

"Later," Jūgo mumbled. "I want…I want another drink. Best bars in DenkiMachi…"

Luisanna lifted a little boy from the playpen in the back room. The little guy had longish navy hair and a shrill, innocent, piercing voice that was growing horse with the energy he was putting into his shout. The baby looked three, maybe four years old. He had the little dents around his nose that gave him to be Itachi's child. In the brief moments that his eyes weren't shut in the effort of his bawl, his eyes were the same dark, chocolaty brown of his mother's. He was long and childishly thin in the strong way that only Uchiha children could pull off, so it seamed. The boy looked strong for his age. He also looked like he was deep in the pool of grief.

Sasuke had to fight the urge to cradle the little boy. He looked much like Itachi. He heard Luisanna coo to the boy, "Shh, baby, shush, Papa's watching over you, shh baby," as she rocked him up and down on arm. Sasuke watched the boy's sobbing died down and his brown eyes edged with red. Sasuke didn't know if it was the red of the boy's tears or if it was the red of a developing Sharingan—if, in fact, this was Itachi's child. That fact was very hard to deny when they boy had the shape of Itachi's eyes, his telltale dents.

"Fugaku, Papa's in the sky, baby," Luisanna cooed, whipping tears from her child's brown eyes. "He loves you. Papa loves you. He even sent his brother to you so you could meet him. Say hi to Uncle Sasuke, Fugaku," she said, whipping the wet tears on her green kimono. The boy swallowed and gripped his mama's short locks. His eyes still wet, the boy…his nephew…ducked down into Luisanna's shoulder. Luisanna's back was turned to them.

Fugaku peeked over his mother's shoulders. "Hi…Uncle Sasuke," he murmured. His voice was timid and boyish.

Sakura smiled as the dark-haired boy said Sasuke's name. Sasuke, however, stared wide-eyed at the child. This was another living, breathing Uchiha he was looking at. This meant he wasn't the only one left. This meant that…Itachi had gotten around to being a father. This boy was…Uchiha Fugaku. The second Uchiha Fugaku in the family tree.

The rosette poked the Uchiha privately and Sasuke blinked himself back to life. "Hello," Sasuke said. Sakura smiled at Sasuke's shocked expression. She hadn't seen Sasuke—the Uchiha Sasuke—be shy in years. If she was being honest with herself, she hadn't seen Sasuke shy in ever.

"Hey, little guy," Sakura greeted. It seamed as if her days now consisted of meeting new family members every day. "I'm…" She didn't know what to call herself. "I'm Sakura." The little brown-eyed baby waved shyly at her.

Luisanna adjusted the boy on her hip and turned to face the two who had confronted her at her workplace. Her eyes were dancing dismally with pride and misery. Sakura could see that she loved Itachi very much; that she saw snippets of her late love in her son and that it hurt.

Sakura knew that pain. She had felt it. When in Konoha, she passed the Team Seven training grounds every day. She could feel the pain of a remembered love when she saw the three posts. She could see the ghosts of herself and her team—could see Naruto tied up and Sasuke chewing his rice and her offering the tied up Naruto her food so Sasuke wouldn't have to give his up. She could see their friendship starting, and she knew how it ended. That was before Naruto turned into an imbecile that went back on his word; that was when she cared about him. The ghosts of Team Seven, haunting her in the present day.

It had to be much worse for Luisanna. At least there was small hope of Naruto coming to his senses and letting Sasuke into the village, of Sasuke turning to his old somewhat caring self, of being able to forget the black hole that had consumed her life for a few years. There was no hope for Luisanna. Nothing to grab onto in the bleakest moments. Itachi was dead. Gone. Deceased. Call it what you will, there was no hope. Only the memory of a great love lost. Only a child from that great lost love; a big reminder of the happy times; a big lovable remembrance.

"That is Aunty Sakura, baby. She's Uncle Sasuke's best friend," Luisanna said and then thought over her words. Best friend… When Itachi had described his little brother's second family, he said that he had one best friend—the nine-tailed fox, Uzumaki Naruto—and that he had one friend who he would risk even his own life for. He had called that one friend Sakura, and that's how she knew them. If he would risk his life for Sakura, "best friend" couldn't be that far of a stretch. Luisanna shrugged it off. "I'm going to leave you with Tio Lewis while me, Uncle Sasuke, and Aunty Sakura talk. Is that okay? Are you going to cry for Papa?"

"Mama, I miss Papa…" were the only words from the boy's pink, innocent lips.

"I miss him too, baby. He's watching over us though. Pray for him and he'll come to you. In your sleep."

With those words, the Puerto Rican put the wet-eyed boy into his playpen and called for the thin, messy-haired man who had called her. Uncle Lewis, Sakura guessed. Tio meant uncle. The woman laid a loving kiss on the boy's forehead and stood, exchanging a few words with Lewis and told Sakura and Sasuke to follow her.

Naruto grunted as he removed a piece of wood. Sasuke just didn't like to make things easy for his ex-best-friend. What was so bad about leaving a hint, or perhaps even a trail! But that was the thing—he was evil, therefore leaving a hint or anything like that was too good for him. Or it was good and he would hence not do it. Speaking of which, what was so bad about fumigating? Not that Lerō minded doing it for them, but still! This place wasn't abandoned that long ago and it had cobwebs, rats—because those mother fuckers were bigger than the size of fūma shuriken for Kami's sake—and was that spider? Oh, Kami, don't let it be a spider. Ninja he could kill, but never doubt the power of a spider. Naruto had made that mistake once. He was lucky to live to this day.

From under the bar of wood that Naruto had moved, green-backed beetles and fire ants hurried away. At least there weren't any spiders. Creepy little things… Why in jigoku was he moving rocks anyway? It wasn't as if Sasuke would come out and shout, "Boo!" as if they were playing hide-and-seek. Jigoku, Naruto doubted if the Uchiha could fit—he doubted if Sakura, short and slender as she was, would fit. Hinata, of course, wouldn't fit. And Naruto was very proud to be able to hold what wouldn't let her fit in the short nights he was home, and to watch her turn the darkest shade of red as he did so.

He missed Hinata. He missed her shy, stuttering laugh; he missed the way she would laugh at all his jokes, even when they weren't funny; he missed the way they could go on and on about Kami-knows-what when they talked… One moment they could be talking about ninja missions and the next, they could be talking about ramen noodles and peanut butter. He missed how she would stutter so cutely when she wanted to say something she wasn't sure of; how she would faint whenever he said something too vulgar; how she would lift her mouth to give a full, two-sided smile along with a blush; how she would always reach up behind herself to grip his head when he gave her a hug from behind.

Kami, why couldn't Sasuke-teme just randomly show up, show them his wrists, and say, "Take me away, coppers!" Was that so hard to do? He couldn't possibly be having a good time playacting as the villain. Being a villain didn't include tomatoes for heaven's sake!

Naruto felt like a sitting duck. They hadn't even gotten a lead. Tsunade had sent them off on a wild goose chase. All they knew was that Sasuke had sent someone into Konoha, but not from where. He was turning into Kakashi, all unoptimistic…

They would find Sasuke one way or another, Naruto redirected his thoughts. When Sakura got home—in about a day or so—she would help. She and Naruto together would read Sasuke's mind like an open book. They would find him. Speaking of which—

"Kakashi-sensei!" Naruto shouted. The blonde heard his old teacher's grunt of acknowledgement. "Send a messenger hawk for Sakura, will you! She can help us when she gets home! Mazenta and Jonasan can get along with their brother and Hinata, right!"

"Yes. Fine. She can," Kakashi's voice droned. "Come along. We're going to try the back of the hideout."

There were still miles of uncovered territory to cover in the cave. They might never find their way out.

Robāto blinked at the opening bars of his cell. They were letting him out? Him, the awful and horrible beater of female ninja? What apocalyptic sign was this? Questioning it internally, the redhead turned his blue eyes to his freer. It was the same man that had told him to "watch it" around him. Except the man wasn't glaring death at him through rusty-colored eyes; instead, the man had an icy, professional air about him. He watched not Robāto, but the wall behind the redhead.

"The headmaster said to let you out for a walk. The police are going to let you socialize because they fear that Sakura-sama anger with them for letting you mind go to insanity. They say, however, that they will be watching your every move," the man said in his scruffy and strong voice. What power had he over him?

The Haruno lifted himself off the concrete thing the law called a bed. It, unsurprisingly, didn't bend under his weight. Robāto's blue eyes turned icy with suspicion. Still, the redhead followed the brunette with less than a trusting glance. It was noon. It was the time he would be getting his bread and water as "Lady" Hokage had ordered in the morn. The sun melted his bronze skin on his muscles as he walked through the unkempt garden ways.

Robāto found himself asking the question that ate at his mind before he could bite his tongue. "Why is it that you lead me?"

The man's messy hair stared at Robāto. He hadn't turned around when he answered, "Because. There are reasons why you should watch yourself. When Sakura-sama comes back, I will personally make sure she wreaks her revenge. And then when I get out of prison—that is, if Lady Hokage doesn't talk her into killing you—I'll wreak my own. But for now…I'm a trusted prisoner."

Robāto rolled his azure eyes. Prison life—what a joke.

Luisanna had shouted to her boss—someone named "Yū"—that she wanted a personal day off for the rest of the day and to tell another worker to take over her shift. Because of that, the brown-eyed Latina now sat in a soft-looking red chair at the Workers' Lounge with a mug of steaming chocolate. If she had been wearing her green kimono, the sleeves would have pooled around her elbows; but as she wasn't, because she had changed into a red t-shirt and some odd-looking "jeans", they didn't.

Sakura couldn't help but stare at the older woman's pants with puzzled jade eyes. They looked terribly uncomfortable… She remembered when she had first seen Efrain. He had been wearing similar pants, and Kimani too after he'd gotten her used to it. Sakura swore she'd never wear the things. But now she was curious.

Sasuke sat on another chair, leaning forward on the white table with interested keenness. His dark pools of molten onyx stared into his newfound sister-in-law's chocolate eyes. "What is it you know about my brother? When did you meet him? What did he tell you about…us—me and him, Team Seven, ANBU, the Uchiha?" Sasuke intoned ominously.

Luisanna seemed unfazed. "Honey," she chuckled humorlessly, "I slept with your brother—if you want to scare me, you're going to have to try harder." Sakura kept in a laugh. It was funny how true Luisanna's statement was. Itachi was a menacing figure. "He told me it all." The woman seemed off as she said the words. Her voice trailed off into a story as her eyes closed and she drank her thick drink. Her brown eyes were filling to the brim with saltwater. "Itachi told me every dark secret he kept and every evil thing he did.

"He told me that he killed the Uchiha Clan under the orders of the Konoha Council…the Elders…and that he threatened them and Hiruzen to not lay a finger on you, Sasuke. He told me that he told them that if they laid a finger on you, he'd personally go forth with all he knew," Luisanna droned. Crystal clear drops of water came from her eyes in twos and threes. Her voice had cracked on the words finger and personally. Steam rolled up from the cream-colored mug. The Puerto Rican forced herself to take another long, pained sip from the cup. "Itachi-kun told me that your life was worth more to him than his own. He told me he'd killed a lot of people; he told me that a small part of his soul died with them. He told me that he wanted to die.

"I had tried so hard…" the black-haired woman sobbed the sob of a broken lady. Of one who had lost too much. "I tried to tell him not to talk like that. I tried so hard to convince him otherwise. I tried to tell him of the people that would ultimately miss him—of his little brother, of me, of Kisame, of Yū, of Lewis… He wouldn't listen. He kept telling me of the people he killed—of the blood his dearest brother had shed over him—of the torture he caused—of…of the family he'd missed…" Luisanna whispered the paragraph to herself, her tan digits turning pale with the strength she held the cup. Sakura was sure that if the mug had been a neck, Luisanna would have strangled it.

The Latina looked up from the chocolate swirling in her mug as if suddenly remembering she had company. She took a deep breath and whipped the tears from her cute chipmunk cheeks. "He told me," the brown-eyed girl—she seemed so fragile, it was impossible to not call her a girl—returned to the subject, "he loved you like you were his son. He told me that your team—yours and Sakura's, here—had promise. He told me that Naruto—that is his name right? I think it is—and you were close friends. Itachi-kun told me that Sakura was stronger than she let on and that she just needed a push. Interestingly enough, he told me that he thought she—you, Sakura—was the last of the Senshi Clan.

"Itachi was my best friend. I knew his every feeling, his favorite color, his favorite food—everything, other than his thoughts. His thoughts were always hidden from me unless I asked. Which, most of the time, I did." A soft, aching smirk managed its way onto Luisanna's face. It was the throbbing simper of a dead beating heart. Sakura knew it well. "Cabbage and purple," she whispered to herself. "We shared a lot of things… He hated stake though…I will never understand how one hates stake…

"Itachi told me he was in the ANBU at thirteen. Graduated the chūnin academy at ten…so on and so forth," Luisanna said, finally looking at the pair in front of her. Her brown eyes danced from Sasuke's eyes to Sakura's. "I'd tell you more, but the rest is between me and his gravestone. Because of you, Sasuke. Thank you for leaving me a widow at nineteen, love. Thank you for taking my son's father from him."

Her sarcastic words stung through even Sasuke's cold resolve. It was evident that she had practice with arctic composures. Sasuke didn't show it. Sakura felt her eyes go wide. She hadn't ever met someone who could scare a ninja to death. There was bereavement and threat in the woman's brown orbs. Sasuke ignored the jive. He'd deal with the minute fear running down his back later—Sakura had been the only person to manage that. Of course, Sakura's version was much more brawny.

"How'd you meet my brother?" Sasuke's monotone voice asked. His depthless black eyes glared holes into his sister-in-law's mysterious russet eyes.

"He came in once," Luisanna answered. She drank another bit of the now-cold milk and licked it off her top lip. "We started talking. He asked me out. Simple as that."

Sakura had her own question. Out of her mouth came, "And what about el bebe?" She was trying out her Spanish. El bebe meant "the baby."

Luisanna smiled. "Sweet, innocent Fugaku… Itachi and I loved him so much together. Now I love him for the both of us." Her tone radiated with pride at the name of her child. "His name came from a late night we once had, when I was three months pregnant. We were talking about his family. His dad. I liked the name. Fugaku is so innocent it's hardly believable. He's so understanding, too."

"Luisanna—"

"Anna, or Ann—please," the black-haired nineteen-year-old corrected.

"Ann," Sakura continued, "I'd love it if I could get to know Fugaku-kun better. He might be depressed. I'd prescribe something for him, if you want…?" Sakura's offer ended in a question, unsure of the unbelieving stare Luisanna was giving her.

"Please! I'm worried about him."

"No prob. Sasuke, I'll…meet up with you later," Sakura told the buff man sitting next to her. Black eyes glared at her. "Or you could stay here with your nephew…?" Sasuke's eyes shinned with dim approval. "If its okay with Ann-chan, of course."

"I'd love for him to get to know his family members."

Sasuke was born on July 23rd, just in case. (A day before my sister! If she were a Naruto fan, she'd be eating this up. But she isn't so she won't and I'll do it for her. This is the first time I've been happy to have a sister!)

Kudaranai—shitty

Fuckers isn't in Japanese because I couldn't find it. :/

Let's pray for Japan, shall we? Triple whammy, the poor country. :'( Let's cry. Oh, Masashi Kishimoto, hero of all anime nerds, Lord Amazing, my sweet and lovable overlord, cartooning genius, Japanese protégé, father of Naruto, inventor of Sasuke, creator of Sakura, maker of Kakashi, Itachi virtuoso: I have but one prayer for you, overlord. I pray that you survived the earthquake, for if not, I shall cry. Kishimoto-san, please, be okay.

JAPAN! BE OKAY!