"This is the sappiest thing I've ever seen. I don't know why I let you talk me into this."

I worried at my bottom lip, knowing if I replied it would be one of my usual sarcastic rebuttals. I suppose I couldn't blame Ichigo for complaining; romance films were just not his venue of entertainment. If it didn't involve some kind of blood and guts action or jump-out scares involving axe murderers, a film held little or no interest for him. To tell you the truth I wasn't all that crazy about romance films myself. I found most of them unrealistic and melodramatic with a heavy dose of saccharine laced gooey stuff.

But today I'd been feeling unusually sentimental, perhaps because of tomorrow's mission to a small village just outside of Fire Country. Yeah, we'd finally gotten a break from the dry spell that had been Operation Baby Sit Katana (Ichigo's name for it, not mine, the little bastard). It was kind of high profile for a Genin team: we were to escort somebody of moderate rank to another village several miles away from that one. We would be gone for a week and the trek to get there itself would take about two and half days. Kakashi thought it would be suitable we rest up a day before leaving. Our marching orders were to abstain for overexerting ourselves the night before. Get plenty of sleep, he'd told us, and try not to do anything illegal.

"Hey!" Ichigo protested loudly. "I only shoplifted once in my entire life!" We stared at him and he flushed.

His eye on the crazy blonde, Kakashi then admitted he'd been joking.

That aside, I was pleased, for it sounded both exciting and manageable. Ichigo, who had never been outside of Konoha was absolutely ecstatic. Takashi, who was a bit more traveled than the other boy merely gave a little grin and shrugged. We'd gone our separate ways, knowing we'd soon be seeing a lot of each other over the next several days. Then my boyfriend turned up an hour later and asked me to go to a movie with him: my choice, his treat. I couldn't refuse.

In the darkness of the theatre I nudged him. "Hush. I don't want to get kicked out."

Obviously frustrated, he fell silent.

The story progressed, unexpectedly taking a tragic turn mid way through the second act. The romance between the title heroine and the hero falls apart. At one point the hero is thought to be dead and the heroine suffers through most of the film trying to cope with this. Eventually she is killed in a violent manner… just after finding out the hero was alive all along. He finds out about the circumstances surrounding her death and is wracked with guilt. Swearing vengeance on her behalf, the film ends with him grimly setting off to perform his last act of love.

During the course of all of this, Ichigo had gotten sucked into the movie. He kept discreetly palming at the corners of his eyes, although I barely noticed because I wasn't bothering to hide the fact I was moved. When the movie ended we left the theatre somber and depressed.

"Well," I tried to shed some light onto the gloom. "It was based on a true story. Movies about true stories never have happy endings."

Ichigo's shoulders were hunched and his hands were in his pockets. "Why?" He muttered dolorously.

I glanced at him, mildly perplexed. "Hm?"

He stared ahead, expression somewhat subdued. "Why does it have to be that way?"

I cradled my arms. "I don't know," I replied softly.

We stopped under a street lamp. Dusk had fallen in the time we'd been out. Ichigo took my hand and tugged me close and leaned into me. His heated breath ghosted along my cheek, the tip of his nose just barely skimming. Involuntarily my hand on the opposite side rose up and rested on his upper arm. My eyes drifted closed. I shivered as he traced down the column of my neck to my collar. We were barely touching but it felt so intimate.

"Do you have any idea," he murmured into my hair, "what you do to me?" His hands rested on my waist and drew me in, even as he pulled back to look me in the eye. The intensity of his gaze penetrated mine. I could see the smoldering desire, the rawness of it catching me off guard. A sudden nervousness took hold of me. I wasn't stupid. I knew Ichigo wanted to have me bad. His self-control wasn't the best in the world and whatever he usually wanted he just went for it. And I was having a harder and harder time stopping him, not because I couldn't, but because I didn't want to. Now I wavered on my convictions.

I slipped my arms around his neck. Ichigo pulled the rest of the way, his mouth meeting mine hungrily. I felt my knees weaken with each stroke of his tongue, my breathing speeding up along with his. His arms moved around my body to support me, propelling us out of the light. We stumbled against a building and halfway into an alley. My back slid down the rough brick wall, as my fingers dug into him with a ferocity that frightened me. It was like everything inside me was on fire, wanting for something it had never known, begging for it incessantly, over and over again. For the first time I made no protest when his hands found their way under my clothes and then down. Shocked at how good it felt, I gasped his name into his ear. My rationale was pulling itself out by the hair while my own hands reached up to tangle themselves in his. I kissed him hard and deep. Suddenly Ichigo grasped the sides of my head and forced us to part. My logic sang its gratitude while my body roared in disapproval.

"No," he gently pushed me away, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "If-If we do this, it'll destroy our team dynamic. It'll ruin… it'll ruin everything."

Mute, I nodded, folding my arms over my bosom to keep myself from flying apart. In the murkiness my cheeks burned with shame. God, what did we just do… we nearly… and… and … I don't want to know what we almost just did! "Maybe… we should cool off," I said, struggling to tear the words from my throat. "Take a step back."

Never again in my life would I witness the frozen horror that took hold of Ichigo just then. It was as if I'd ripped his soul out through his eyes. "You mean… break up?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No! No, nothing like that. I mean, well, you're right." My voice shook. "I want us to be able to be together without being afraid of what will happen next."

Ichigo touched my shoulder and pulled me in gently for a hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice wrought with self-reproach. "What I did… I shouldn't have."

I buried my head against his shoulder, holding him tighter. "I wasn't fighting it."

"It was still wrong."

"Ichigo, don't talk about it."

"But…"

"No." I stepped back and made sure our eyes were level. "The last thing either of us needs to do is cheapen this. This means something," I said fiercely, "and it belongs to us."

Eyes widening, Ichigo stared at me, far away, close inside and everywhere in between. He wanted to say it, almost did. I was afraid to hear it, afraid to let him. So I placed two fingers over his lips and leaned in to whisper, "Take me home."

When I took my hand away, an audible sigh escaped from him, long-winded, disappointed. He heard what I really said and it saddened him. Saddened I'm not ready to make it into something more real than either one of us. But he took my hand and led me back into the light, remaining there until wind chimes and red and white fans ended our date.

"Oi," he called out to me before I stepped into the house. I looked back at him. He was grinning again, hands shoved in his pockets. "Pretty good movie, huh?"

A little smile escaped me. "It was." Pause. "Would you do it?"

"Do what? Oh. What he did?"

"Yeah."

He thought about it, both eyes crystal in the faint moonlight falling over the estate. He looked at the ground once, then across the loam before he brought his gaze up to me again. After another moment, Ichigo suddenly smiled again and gave me a two-finger salute before jogging off into the darkness. I waved after his vanishing form. I didn't know what to make of his non-reply. I supposed Ichigo himself couldn't tell me either not because he didn't want to but because he didn't know. Didn't want to know.

I knew what I would do.

Closing my eyes, I rested my side against the front door. What a long day. I wanted to curl up into a warm little ball. Feeling his presence, I opened my eyes again and looked down at the small creature sitting before me. I laughed. He was so funny, his bright eyes accusatory and miffed, like he'd been wondering where the heck I'd been all night. I couldn't help smirking. "Oi bastard."

:I really wish you'd stop calling me that:

"What else would I be… what?" It just registered. I became wide-awake, staring down at Reynard in shock. "Did you just… wait I didn't hear you say anything though."

:Of course I didn't say anything.: The kitsune licked his chops. :I can't talk.:

"Then how are you…"

:Mind speech, kit, it's the new wave of the future. The rest of you ninja are so behind on the times, it's pathetic.: Reynard let out a wheezy fox noise and gave me his typical smart-ass expression. :But I can forgive you.:

Unsteadily I knelt down before him, heart pounding. "I knew you were more than just a normal fox. Why didn't you say anything before?"

:I was biding my time.:

"Biding your time? For what?"

:To see whether or not you were worthy of my attention.:

"Am I?"

One eye closed for a moment devilishly. :I'm talking to you now aren't I:

I frowned. "You don't have to be so sarcastic." My legs were starting to throb and go numb so I settled down on the floorboards before the animal. "Why me?"

:It's not you, specifically. You were brought to my attention by default. We were interested in the other guy.:

"Other guy?"

:Your sire… What you humans call father.:

My mouth dropped open. "My father? What… I don't understand… I…" A sudden feeling of doom enveloped me, robbing me of air and for a second my blood ran cold. "By default. Does that mean, are you saying, is he…" I didn't want to say it, I couldn't say it.

:We're not sure.: Reynard flicked his tail back and forth, lightly thumping against the newly polished porch. :But that's beside the point. We're interested in you as well. I've decided you're worth my attention.: His emphasis on each syllable was not lost on me. There was something significant going on here.

"Attention?" I was so full of intelligent questions. "For what reason?"

:To serve you, of course. What did you think summons did, stood on the sidelines and spectated: My dull expression spoke yards for Reynard who just sighed in his usual fox-whuff and hung his head briefly. :Do you have any idea of what I'm talking about:

"I think so." I squinted thoughtfully. "Summons… that's where you call up some kind of animal to fight with you." I remembered the snakes my father used to summon and gasped. "But I thought summons could serve ninja only through blood contract."

:What is so only about that: Ear flick. :This is true. Kitsune, however, do not require blood contracts. It is probably why very few humans choose to ally themselves with the fox. Our methods are somewhat… unorthodox. To gain our loyalty and service, certain things must happen and these 'certain things' happen rarely.:

"What kinds of things?" I asked.

:You've heard of the Kyuubi no Youko, haven't you:

I nodded.

Reynard's nostrils flared. :His actions ended whatever relationships we had going among humankind. Nobody wanted anything to do with his children so if you haven't heard of contracts with foxes, I wouldn't be surprised.: He lowered his head mournfully. :It's terrible the destruction reputations cause.:

Too true. It struck where it meant to.

He looked up at me again. :So you can see why I was so hesitant. To go back to your initial question, the conditions have all been met. Most of them were met by your father unfortunately he disappeared before he could be approached. We turned to you next.: He grinned. :You're perfect.:

Oh nice, I was the next best thing. My heart pounded again. "What did I do that made me perfect?"

:You can pass on our legacy. Things are clear to you in moments of chaos. You kill without hesitation. Your loyalty to your own is unshakeable. You choose love over hatred, forgiveness over vengeance. You saved a cub that was not your own. We can trust you.:

Very flattering. "Then why was my father your first choice? He… was going to kill his brother."

:Duty to one's own blood: Reynard replied nonchalantly. :Regardless of the circumstances and the reasons behind them, to us, your sire acted acceptably. That he put you ahead of his interests makes this count for rather than against him.: Long pause. :The issue is irrelevant now. The duty is done.:

Hold the phone. My palms smacked audibly on the floorboards as I leaned over. "What do you mean?" I demanded fiercely. "Explain that!"

Reynard did not answer.

Exhaling, I sat back again, frustrated like you would not even believe. Drop it, he's not going to tell you. "So I meet your criteria. Whoo-hoo. What happens now?"

:It's already happening.:

My eyebrow arched. I felt like I was paying a bill for a resource I wasn't even aware of receiving and wondering what part of it I had to pay for. "Is there some kind of training I need?"

:No. You have the training required. Only know this: you need only ask.: Then he grinned. :Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a barn rat.: Swiftly he leapt off the porch and trotted off into the night, a grayish red flash in the lantern light. I opened my mouth to shout after him and closed it again. Standing, I watched after the direction he'd disappeared. I wondered why all the weirdest things on the planet always seemed to pick me to happen to. I sighed and went into the house. This is a lot to happen in one night, weird things not withstanding.

I was only too happy to crash into my bed, burrow under the sheets and hug the pillow to my head. I could ponder the thousands of implications of this association tomorrow. I was bushed.

When Takashi couldn't sleep, he often liked to sneak into his father's "den" a room, which consisted of little more than a dartboard, a pool and a bar. The patriarch of the Hayabusa clan separated work and play into two distinct categories and their estate reflected this. You had the training compound on one end and the game rooms and recreational areas on the other. They weren't insanely wealthy like the more reputable Hyuuga clan but they held their own sizable assets and influence. Only having moved their holdings to Konoha seven years ago, they were still on the upswing as far as reputations went. Their heritage, varying talents and striking features made them stand out from a lot of Konoha's residents - and earned lots of attention alike for the men and women of the clan.

Takashi was the youngest of the males and even for his talent and scholastic achievements, within the family, he remained overlooked. It didn't help he was a quiet boy and tended to prefer to fade into the background during family gatherings. Unfortunately this caused him to be inevitably ignored by the rest of the family, though most of the time it was out of genuine forgetfulness. In his mind he felt he wasn't important enough to be singled out for attention, not the way Shinji (that attention whore) was. Shinji was the oldest of the main family so therefore the mantle of the Hayabusa clan would go to him when their father stepped down. Naturally he'd get the more attention as the main heir and as far as Takashi was concerned, he was just the understudy. He didn't mind. Who wanted that much responsibility anyway?

He hissed when the dart fell short of the center mark by a quarter of an inch. It was a frustrating enigma to his shinobi talent. Excellent at hitting the target when it came to throwing kunai yet lousy when it came to anything else. Why is that? He grumbled inwardly before consoling himself with the thought: Well, at least I don't suck all the way around like Uzumaki. That guy couldn't aim right if his life depended on it. Glad I don't have to stand next to him at urinals. A smirk appeared on his face and he reached for another dart.

I'll allow him one virtue, if it's the only one he has, he amended. He certainly has good taste in women… albeit strange dark women with sadist complexes. Damn that Katana is scarily talented. How'd she get so good? He threw the dart. Sure would like to meet that father of hers she name-drops now and again. Missing nin or not, I'll bet he's really something. He can't be that bad a guy, traitor to the village notwithstanding, although why should I take personal offense, I wasn't even born here. Secretly Takashi hoped for his teammate's sake that she would reunite with him one day. Those mildly sad smiles that would grace her lips whenever she'd mention him were hard to forget. Guess when they're the only real family they have in the world you have to want that for someone else, he thought, frowning again when the dart hit the wall. Damn. Dad wouldn't like holes in his wall. Maybe this was a sign he needed to call it a night.

"Burning the midnight oil?"

Crap.

Takashi seethed somewhat and turned to the speaker. "I told you not to sneak up on me like that."

Shinji leaned on the threshold to the den, a devilish evil-big-brother smile on his face. "Sneak up? I was just announcing myself, twerp. What did you want me to do? Send you a telepathic message?"

Takashi crossed the room to pluck the darts out of the board. "What do you want?" he asked neutrally.

His brother shrugged. "Nothing. I was just coming back from putting Saki to bed."

Saki was their two-year-old sister. A night owl at heart, she often liked to scale her crib to wander the halls at two and three in the morning. Someone on the estate always heard her padding around in her footies and had to scoop her up and deposit her back in her room. Tonight it was Shinji who caught her.

"Then why you bothering me?"

Shinji frowned. "You're going to be gone for a week. I thought we could have a conversation."

Arranging the darts in the order in which he'd removed them, Takashi closed the dart box and put it back on a shelf containing several board games. "What makes you think," he muttered, "I have anything to say to you?"

Since his back was turned, he didn't see how his brother withered. Shinji knew his ototo openly resented him and it seemed nothing he could say or do appeased him. If he could he'd give the kid all that special attention their parents liberally bestowed upon himself on a daily basis. Hell, the pain in the ass deserved some kind of recognition; he was pretty amazing for a Genin. Sure, he needed to exercise a little finesse when it came to social interaction but that was the least of his faults. He supposed, he admitted reluctantly, it didn't help that their parents regarded Takashi as the little brother that had to be protected by the older brother even though the twerp was perfectly able to do it on his own. Anyone would resent such a position.

When he didn't reply, Takashi looked around at Shinji, studying him critically. "If you have something to say to me just spit it out already," he demanded at length. "I'm tired."

But Shinji closed his smoky blue eyes, shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. It was too late to get worked up into a frustrated frenzy though he dearly wanted to. Every time he attempted some kind of bonding, Takashi rebuffed and found new ways to dodge. On some level he supposed he deserved it. Ignoring the kid for eleven out twelve years had earned him such treatment. At this point all he could do was keep trying. It was all he knew how to do.

Meanwhile Takashi intellectually sensed how hard his niisan was trying and on some complicated level, he appreciated it. This was what made him press on rather than normally going along his way. "Shinji." Just say what you need to say.

Tentatively, Shinji felt the shaking line of opportunity and gingerly toed it. "Just wanted to tell you good luck. I, uh, I've been out that way and, well, it can get pretty rough."

"I can handle it." Takashi crossed his arms haughtily.

"I've no doubt but you might want to keep an eye on that Uzumaki kid. I've heard he's a loose cannon."

"Uzumaki can keep an eye on himself," Takashi replied bluntly. "So can Katana… if even more so."

Shinji thought. "Where'd that girl come from anyway? Here I thought all the Uchihas were dead and she comes walking out of the blue." He grinned the grin again. "Bet she's really hot when you're sparring with her. Nothing better in this world than a kunoichi kicking ass."

Oh save me from this. "I wouldn't know."

"Oh c'mon, you don't mean to tell me you don't find a woman like her alluring?"

"I do. She's his, though."

"So? Steal her."

Shocked, Takashi shot his sneering brother an incredulous stare. "Unlike you, shithead, I piss in my own territory and only follow what wanders into it. And I'm not being a pussy," he added quickly, "that's just common courtesy."

Shinji chortled. "But you liiiike her."

"Irrelevant." Pause. "You raging pervert."

His niisan leered proudly. Takashi sulked.

"Seriously." Shinji grew staid again. "I'm just trying to play the older brother card here. I think a lot of you, you dork. One day you're going to be better than me - oi stop glaring, I'm not blowing smoke in your face! Listen to what I'm saying." Takashi didn't lose the arrogant posture but at least he was still listening. He exhaled. "I'm not good at the whole support thing," he murmured. "You know this better than anyone. I just… I'm trying." A few beats passed. When Takashi didn't move or even blink, he gave it up as a bad job. He offered his brother a half-wave and left, trudging through the dark recesses back to their room.

Alone again, Takashi stood there for a long time. Gradually his eyes shut and he lowered his head before following.

Staying up this late was a deviation from the norm for Sakura. Yet there was something about the way the milky light filtered in through the glass of the back sliding door while she sat at the kitchen table drinking decaffeinated herbal tea. Perhaps it was because it was so peaceful. Often assailed by the hubbub of hospital life, the wave of silence coursing over her with its current of bliss and solitude soothed her sore muscles and throbbing skull. Dodging stretchers and gazing into countless hideous wounds all day was trying even on the nerves of the most seasoned mednin. And she already had enough to worry about.

Today she learned that Naruto's team was over by forty-eight hours for contact. Then she learned later in the day via Tsunade who'd gotten a message from the small band sent to spy that Sound forces were successfully infiltrating the Anzen no Chi Mori valley. Her stomach had plunged at the words 'dwindling numbers' and 'taking on major losses.' Before she could rush to the Hokage's office to demand reinforcements be sent in, Shizune had shown up at her door and sweetly informed her she was needed in audience at the Fifth's place. Finding no reason to object, she hurried on out. Now here she was back at home, drinking bitter tea under moonlight and contemplating the ironic circles her frustrating and gut-twisting life was going in. Fearing them. Worrying about them.

Sakura moved her wrist slightly to the side where it lay outstretched across the smooth table surface. Huh. Kid was late getting in. She tried to decide whether panicking was in order and about how constructive could she be doing it. Certainly hunting the little pain in the neck down and killing him was out of the question. Not to mention unconscionable, what kind of mednin goes around killing people for no reason? No kind as far as she knew.

Well, she had a reason… a reason most mothers could get behind anyway.

Somewhere a door in the house opened. A relieved smirk tickled her upper lip and she allowed her stiff shoulders to set against the back of her chair. Wrapping her hands around the mug, she turned her head to the kitchen door expectantly. Her son soon entered and stopped dead just inside the threshold. Sakura almost laughed; he did look funny standing there as if flash frozen to the spot. Both she and Naruto loved keeping the kid on his toes, never allowing him to be sure what they'd approve or disprove of. For the most part though they kept his trust in their support.

"Uh…ur… um…" he began, scratching the back of his neck, face full of doom. "I can totally explain."

Sakura shook her head and nudged the chair to her right. "Never mind. Sit for a minute."

He obeyed, perching on the seat, watching her with a measure of curiosity and wariness. Smart kid, he could sense something was up.

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Sakura ran her finger along the smooth rim of the mug. "I thought I should tell you," she began slowly, quietly, "that I've just received a mission. I probably won't be back when you return from yours. You'll be on your own for a little while."

Ichigo appeared startled. Rarely both parents were gone simultaneously. While he was okay with their going away on long missions, when both were gone at the same time, he grew anxious. He hated being alone. Sure he could stay with someone until they got back but nothing compared to the security one felt with one's parents. To take them both away knifed his gut with fear. For some reason he remembered Katana's weird feeling from a few days ago and gave an inner shiver. Couldn't possibly have anything to do with it.

"Dad hasn't… when will he be back?" he asked, fingers curled over the edge of his chair.

Sakura lowered her eyes. "That's the problem. His team's communication was not received. The shadow team sent after them has reported a major insurgence which prevents them from sending anything in or out of their location."

Ichigo's pulse began to race. "Wh-What does that mean?" He was hopelessly confused.

"They can't come home. I'll be leaving with a larger team tomorrow afternoon. The shadow team sent coordinates so we should not have much trouble getting there." She finally looked up at him, her face shuttered.

Ichigo's own expression was one of shock and helplessness. He understood what she was implying and he had to stop himself from screaming. "But that means…"

Sakura felt torn. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Being a ninja… these things happen… and we've always prepared you to expect for something like this. You knew there might come a day when both of us couldn't be here."

"I know!" he realized he was raising his voice and took hold of himself. "I mean, I just… it doesn't mean I have to like it! What if…" He stopped himself. There were always going to be what-ifs so hashing any of them out wasn't going to help either one of them. Especially with his mother, who tended to over worry about stuff. No need to make it worse than it already was. He clenched his fists, balling his anger right up into a righteous ball of infuriation. "I-I never got to patch things up with Dad. We haven't been getting along lately… he probably thinks I hate him. Damn it!" he hissed, enraged and guilt ridden at the same time.

His mother reached over and touched his arm gently. "He doesn't think that." It ached her to see him so distraught.

Ichigo said nothing, just rested his elbows on the tabletop and shoved his forehead against his raised fists. At length, he murmured, "I know." He turned his head so he was looking at her. "Promise you'll come back."

Sakura reached out and rested her hand on his arm. The last thing she wanted to do was lie to him. Ichigo had inexplicably become her whole life and she knew he saw herself and Naruto as examples to lead by. Especially herself, for she felt how deeply her son admired her, how much he wanted to please her. Sakura guiltily admitted it had a lot to do with how standoffish she tended to be with him at times. It upset him greatly - she could see it in his face how much it hurt him when she yelled at him.

When she didn't reply, his face expressed dawning panic, a hidden screaming denial her soul felt to the bone. She closed her eyes for a moment to contain her sadness.

"Mom…" Next she knew he had come around to her and was hugging her, face buried in the crook of her neck. She opened her eyes again and let his head tuck against hers. He could not see the sheen of tears but she felt his. She held him for a moment before he eased away. Gazing at him, she marveled at how much he'd grown over the past summer. No longer a little boy, he had become a young man with a strong build, a big heart and fierce jade eyes that seethed with the animal's rage. How could all of this have happened without her noticing? It felt like it was only yesterday that she was standing under the autumn trees holding him up so he could touch the colored leaves. Yet he was still that same little boy. It was this little boy who stood before her now, afraid and needing assurance.

She empathized only all too well.

"Ichigo," she told his desperate gaze, smiling gently, genuinely, "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. How could I not come back?" Trying to play it off, and pretending not to notice the amazed happiness in his expression, Sakura shrugged, waving her hand casually. "What am I saying, you're a big grown man, you don't need that kind of mush from your mother." She winked at him.

Ichigo laughed, half-hugged her, which was more of a quick grab of the shoulders and a momentary lean-in before he retired to his room with a token "Good night." Sakura watched after him and sighed, resting her palm on her cheek, leaning on her elbow. In her mind she called out to Naruto. I need you to help me finish raising this kid you helped me make so don't do anything stupid like getting yourself killed you hear me!

The realization she grasped from this passionate mental ultimatum struck. It was so profound both hands dropped from her face and she stared straight ahead, wide-eyed, white-faced. Tears filled her eyes and she cursed them as she rejoiced in them. It was everything she could do to keep from bolting out of the house and running off into the night. Instead she sat down again from half-rising from the chair and buried her head in her arms. She let herself cry for it, cry for her stupidity, cry for the years it labored inside her without her notice, without revealing itself yet standing out in the open, always there and just unseen because she was too blind to see it.

Later that night she dreamed. She was in the middle of a great vast nothingness of mist. She was running and looking around, trying to find her way. Suddenly she stopped dead, seeing a shorter figure standing before her. His hands were in his pockets and a smirk curled his mouth. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. He looked about twelve years old.

He spoke first. "You haven't dreamed about me for years. What gives?"

She sighed and sank to her knees. He followed the movement with his eyes. At length she spoke. "I hate it when I dream about you," her voice was low. "I never remember but I wake up with tears running down my face and I don't know why."

"You do. You just convinced yourself to forget."

She shrugged.

"Why do you think you can't forget about me?" he inquired. "It's more than just a childhood infatuation."

"It was never an infatuation." She glared at him. "I did love you. I loved you so much it hurt to breathe. But… I'm finished. I'm… done." Her head lowered.

"No, you aren't." He always did like making everything into a challenge. The dream-self was no different.

She nodded, lifting her chin again. "You're right. I… I need closure. As long as I don't know what's happened to you, I'll keep visiting this place. It's not fair. I have my son and I have your daughter to keep alive what never was but… but…" The tears ran and she crawled on her knees over to the boy, gripped his shirt and pushed her face against his chest. "Oh Sasuke…" it came out a thin, needy cry. "Even if I give my heart to someone else, there'll never be another you." She looked up then, tears flowing. "I just wanted you to know… Even if I can never really tell you."

He gave her the little smile he'd given her the last day she saw him sixteen years ago. "You really are annoying."

As he always did, as he never had in reality, as he never had when she knew him, he put his arms around her. And as she always did, as she had in reality, as she had when she knew herself, she became that twelve-year-old girl with long hair and embraced him back.

She never had the dream again.