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.

Standard disclaimer applied.


Sakura lovingly smiled at Sasuke as she wiped the tears from his face.

Sasuke refused to look her in the eye; he would not see her eyes and see that she thought he was as weak as she. But he didn't swat her hands away—her soft, kind, and cleansing hands—for fear of more tears rushing to his eyes. He felt as if her hands were the dam between him and the tears ready and waiting to onslaught. If he had to go through years of holding these in, he deserved a moment of crying. But crying was weak. Just because he deserved it doesn't mean he wanted it. Because want it he did not. He would feel so much better if he weren't crying. He bit down on his lip hard as to stop the sobs; he could feel blood dripping over his lip.

Sakura glanced down at the gravestone. It seemed as if the sky was crying just for him, just for Itachi. Water pooled inside to engraved symbols. As she watched, she rubbed Sasuke's back. "It's okay," she said, turning back to Sasuke. He still wouldn't look her in the eye. "He's okay. He's happy, watching down on you."

Sasuke swallowed, letting himself be comforted. He had to stop crying. He had to be strong. For Luisanna, Fugaku, and Sakura, he had to be strong. So the Uchiha whimpered in Sakura's embrace for a second longer, willing himself to be his own barrier again. Then, he held the rosette at arms' length gave her a rare, limping thank-you smirk and pushed her away. Sasuke looked at his nephew, who was curling worriedly into his mother's lap as she cried over the tombstone, and tapped his illegitimate sister-in-law's shoulder. "Crying doesn't help," he stated in his half-dead voice. The other half of his voice, the half that wasn't covered in stone and hardened by pain, sounded almost comforting.

"Mama," Fugaku whispered, as if siding with his uncle. He really didn't want to see his mother this sad anymore. Her pretty brown eyes shouldn't be drowning in tears.

Luisanna bit her lip, letting the sadness grip her missing heart once more, before looking down at her son, responding to the sound of her name from his lips. She sucked up the misery that the sight of Itachi's headstone brought and reminded herself that he had left her with something; he had left her with the most important something that anyone could ever ask for: He had left her with Uchiha Fugaku, a piece of him and her mixed into a perfect little bundle. That perfect little bundle needed her now, and if he needed her now, then the world didn't exist. Fugaku was asking for her happiness; she could fake that. So, she ran her fingers over her tear-streaked face and forced a smile. Her son didn't know the difference. "Alright," she gulped, "I know."

Sasuke nodded and deftly lifted his nephew from his "sister's" lap. With silent thanks from Luisanna's eyes, Sasuke ruffled Fugaku's navy locks in an attempt to cheer him. Children were so easily distracted. What he wouldn't give to be the same… But Fugaku was no regular child—he was far more aware. The little Uchiha wasn't as oblivious as most children. He worried over his mother as she lifted herself from the ground and took a deep breath.

The heavy mood rained down on Sakura's shoulders as heavily as the rain that rolled off her waterproof leather jacket. She swallowed profoundly and watched as the two in mourning shoved off the pain from their shoulders to cheer a depressed child. It was possibly the most heroic thing she'd ever seen; more gallant than fighting off thousands of enemies one-handedly to protect a village. It made her heart soar to see that Sasuke—the cold, unfeeling, pain-causing Uchiha Sasuke—could have this sweet side, even in the midst of incessant pain. She glanced up quickly at the pouring rain and then to the boy Sasuke was shielding. Near the rainproof cotton of Sasuke's sleeveless black shirt, Fugaku wouldn't get sick.

The rosette let the little, impromptu family that she had somehow become a part of have their moment for a second longer before announcing, "We should find warm shelter."

"Yeah," Luisanna said, her voice cracking.

Sasuke silently agreed, placing the jean-clad boy on the floor so he could walk. They weren't far from the motel, even if it was on the bad side of town. They would go there, Sasuke decided, leading the small group to the motel before asking their opinion.


Suigetsu scowled into the air above him, glaring intently at the clear plastic paperweight that he was throwing up and catching. He gritted his teeth, burrowing himself deeper into one of the three extra beds that surrounded the king and adjusting the white towel around his waist. His brain pulsed with confusing thoughts. Jūgo's words throbbed in his brain to the rhythm of his pounding heart. Was Sakura happier in Konoha? Was Sakura miserable in Konoha? Was Sakura happier with Team Taka? Would it be the right thing to bring her home? How would she react? Would she turn on her own village, just so she could be with Sasuke? Would she hate him for bringing her home? Would she thank him for doing so? And, most troubling of all, was it better for Sakura to be with Team Taka?

Was it better for a goody-two-shoes, missing-ninja hunting, law-abiding, death-hating, loyal Konoha kunoichi to roam around the countryside with a team of killing, lying, law-braking, world-hating, rouge shinobi?

The Hōzuki didn't have time to mull over the thought because of the sound of a creaking door over the thud of hammering rain. Suigetsu straightened up immediately. The only people that were expected were Sasuke and Sakura; a greeting was in order for the imawashii boss-man and his lovely companion. Of course, he wasn't allowed near that lovely companion…but what the jigoku! He was probably going to die as soon as he got back from returning that same lovely companion, so what did it matter if he quickened the date? He was out into the kitchen before the creaking had ended.

"You should probably give Fugaku-kun a bath. He could get sick," Sakura was saying as she opened the door. Her voice was surprisingly dismal for a person as peppy as she usually was. "I'll take care of the clothes if you want."

"Welcome home, Sakura-chan, Sasuke-san and, uh," Suigetsu pursed his lips as he said this. "You're quite the lady's man, aren't you, Sasuke?" Sui teased when he noticed the extra woman and kid. Who were they?

But, again, that thought was shoved aside at the look on Team Taka's unknowing prisoner. Sakura looked as if she had chocked on something; her arms were outstretched before her as if pushing away something horrible. A dark red blush, that could be considered purple, pooled onto her cheeks. Her jaw was swinging on its hinges, as if it would fall off any second. Sasuke looked annoyed. "Suigetsu, put on some underwear," he deadpanned.

Purple eyes scanned his own body, only to realize lately that his fluffy towel had slipped off his waist and was resting on the concrete tiles of the kitchen. Those same eyes widened in shock. "D—I—Wh—," he stuttered as he ducked down to grab the towel, a blush covering his face as deeply as Sakura's.

Sakura swallowed and dropped her arms, her jaw still swinging on its hinges. "There are some things which can never be unseen," she gulped. "Please tell me you covered Fugaku's eyes, Sasuke. Please." The name sounded familiar to Suigetsu's ears. Sasuke answered with a roll of his eyes as he let the kid out from behind the protective shield of his body.

The woman, though, with the black haired looked unfazed. "Eh," she shrugged in response to Sakura's gulp. "I've seen better. I may be biased, but I think Itachi ruined men for me."

Sakura gagged over the sink. "Some things can never be unheard," she muttered. "I need acid. Someone bring me acid," she said over the sound of running water and pouring rain. The black-haired woman laughed a half-humorous laugh. After pretending to wash out her eyes and ears, Sakura looked over to Suigetsu. He was dumbstruck in the archway of the kitchen, holding up the towel that had fallen off his body tightly. "All right, now that that's over with," she announced. "Suigetsu, this is Luisanna." From the look on the Hōzuki's face, he remembered the name. "Do you understand that scarring comment now?" Suigetsu made a face as if he was about to vomit and then laughed. "Where is everybody?"

Sui scratched the back of his head and looked to Sasuke, who was busying himself with answering the kid's questions, for permission. When the Team Take leader ignored him, Suigetsu proceeded. "Karin's taking that nap"—Sasuke laughed—"and Jūgo's showering."

Sakura nodded and turned to Luisanna. "Kuku-kun should take a bath or something. I could wash his clothes if you want," she suggested, looking over to where Sasuke was ruffling Fugaku's hair. She'd never seen this fatherly side of him. She loved it. But, when she thought about it, wasn't this just like him? He'd always been protective of every little child they had to protect. He had even saved a little girl once. But even back then, he was putting up a barrier. Was it that this child was of his kin that was wreaking havoc on the brick wall he had to keep his feelings in? Or was it simply that Fugaku looked so much like his father?

Sakura shrugged, saddened that she couldn't find an answer for the way that Sasuke's eye twinkled or how his smirk held some actual joy; slim as it was, the joy was there. He'd make an excellent father, should he ever come out of this desolate rut he was forcing himself into. Would he ever make it out? Was it too late already? It couldn't be too late—the smirk on his handsome face was proof. The fact that he hadn't gone on a killing spree when he found out that he had family left was proof. The fact that he had let her stay with him was proof. The fact that he was trying to find out more about Itachi before his death was proof. It wasn't too late for him. Hopefully, in the near future, he'd repent every life he took and every thing he stole. Well, except maybe taking Naruto's life. His life was of no use. Maybe, in the near future, Sasuke would get off this crazy high he was on and start his own family, like he wanted to. Maybe he would do it now. Maybe he was getting tiered of being overlord to a nation of thieves and liars. Maybe he wanted to settle down. And if he did, with whom would he do it? Would he choose the crazy, idiotic, unknowing Karin? Or would he run away with some other woman that he met during his years away? Either way he would leave her—she wasn't enough for him. She was too much of a goody-goody. All she could ask for was being his friend. The rest she would have to daydream.

Sakura heaved a silent sigh.

"Yeah. I have clothes for him though; no need to wash," Luisanna answered silently. She could see the longing in Sakura's eyes and to whom it was directed. She pretended to not have noticed, but Luisanna knew that Sakura had noticed, being the ninja that she was. Luisanna pulled off a small black backpack from her shoulders. "I always have extra clothes."

"Great!" Sakura said, pushing too much enthusiasm into her voice as she tried to get over whatever thoughts she was just having. "The master bath has a little bath-and-shower stall. Is Jūgo in there?"

"Nah," Suigetsu answered, unknowing of the strange too-happiness in Sakura, "I raced him for it. He lost."

Sakura cringed at the thought of poor, massive Jūgo squeezing into the second bathroom. Shrugging it off, she turned to Sasuke. "Sasuke, Anna-chan is going to give Kuku-kun a bath," she told him, walking over to the uncle-and-nephew duo. Fugaku's half-sad eyes had a glow in them when Sakura gave him a glance. She smiled at him and ran a hand through his navy-colored hair. "Can you be away from Uncle Sasuke for that long, Kuku-kun?"

Fugaku pursed his lips. "Who is Kuku-kun?" he asked, his chocolate eyes burning with curiosity.

Sakura laughed a true laugh—children brought out the best in her—and pulled out a chair. Fugaku was sitting on the tabletop and Sasuke was sitting in the chair in front of the boy. With a glance to Sasuke, Sakura turned to boy to face her. "Kuku-kun is the nickname I gave you. I love your name, Fugaku, it's very, very pretty"—Fugaku smiled with a very dim blush—"but it makes me think of your grandpa. Your papa's and Uncle Sasuke's papa had the same name." When Fugaku smiled, Sakura stood up and lifted the boy from the tabletop. She handed him over to his mother.

Sasuke couldn't help a small smirk from lifting his lips. How natural Sakura looked with a child in hand… The smile that lifted her cheeks when she lifted the boy… How would she look with one of his children? Sasuke frowned before he could answer his own thought.

"Mama's going to give you a bath and put you in your pajamas," Luisanna whispered to her son, "and then we're going to wait here with Uncle Sasuke and Aunty Sakura until the rain stops, okay?" Sakura pointed the way to the master bath and Luisanna left, pulling Suigetsu by the ear and telling him to put on some pants.


"Guilty?" the one lawyer acting as jury asked the two ninja acting with him.

The woman cop rolled her eyes as if the answer was obvious. The man nodded. "Guilty," they said simultaneously.

Nodding to each other, the three walked over to the door that connected the room they were currently in to the court. The decision had been made; there was no turning back. Once the victim came to witness justice, justice would be preformed. Death would be delivered.


Tsunade stared intently at the large blue eyes questioning her. She honestly didn't know the answer to the inquiry asked. Where was Sakura? Even if she had been running late, she should be here by now. They wouldn't be able to go forth with the execution if Sakura wasn't there. They wouldn't even be able to sentence him to death without Sakura there to confirm it. But, more importantly, if she were to be gone for more than a week without permission, she would officially be considered a nukenin. She would be hunted down and killed, not granted the mercy Sasuke has been on Naruto's behalf. Tsunade could only be allowed to grant that leniency once, no matter how bad she wanted to do it again—for Sakura, just for Sakura.

"I…" Tsunade muttered silently, hazel eyes watching the crowd of onlookers. Should they see anything out of the ordinary, all jigoku would brake loose. "I don't know, Ino. She's late, is all. She'll be back around the week. She was with the Orenji twins; they might be showing her around." Her voice sounded more like she was convincing herself rather than the young ninja. Sakura was running late. She had to be running late. She couldn't have…she couldn't have been captured. She might be rounding up nukenin as the Godaime spoke. She'd come back home in a few days, sporting a couple thousand gashes on her body, breathing heavy, needed Jonasan and Mazenta to keep her up, but alive and bringing a set of papers to prove the deaths of the nukenin.

Concerned but composed, the blonde Yamanaka nodded and pushed herself off the platform that Tsunade sat on. On the side, standing still, Hinata and Neji glared keenly at the doors through which the jurymen and –woman had disappeared. Hinata refused to glare at the redhead that was Sakura's so-called father, badly as she wanted. Just breathing the same air as him disgusted her; being in the same room all but revolted her. Hinata wasn't one to hold grudges, but this man had done more than enough to disserve it.

So much suspense was in the air that when the doors opened, it was almost in slow motion.

Tsunade straightened up, looking forward to the verdict. When the voice of the lawyer came up, strong and sure, Tsunade felt a grin lift her cheeks. This was it; this was the moment of truth. "We declare Haruno Robāto guilty of the following charges: laying hand on a ninja, treasonous by default, and child abuse. Justice will be carried out as soon as the victim arrives to see it carried."


Debris cluttered the space around him; dust clouding the air and blurring sight. Shikamaru surveyed the wreckage, looking for body parts—broken limps, severed heads. "Kiba! Kakashi! Naruto!" he shouted out to the mess. He shouted that until his voice was cracking and his throat was sore. How would he break the news to Tsunade—or to Sakura—or to Tsume and Hana? How would the village deal with the loss of the Nine-Tailed Fox, the famous Copy Ninja, and a trained tracker all at once? How would their families deal with it? "Kiba—Kakashi—Naruto!" he shouted one last time, before his voice gave up completely on him.

Just then, a faint sound—the sound of a voice—echoed in the distance. "Shikamaru! Shikamaru! Shikamaru!"

In the relief that surrounded him—no triple funeral, no telling families, no grief—Shika ran to the voice—voices he noticed now—with an expression of pure relief and annoyance. All that wasted terror! But they were okay!

As the remaining trio of his team came into view, the strategist calmed. He could continue their wild goose chase in peace.


Sorry about the late update! Please forgive me! Please! I told you about that Naruto app—I was catching up! Plus, my friend showed me InuYasha and I was watching that on Netflix—episode 93. And I had a small case of writers' block and demotivation. And I was at my Dad's all week; who can hardly read English, and thinks that everything I write has to do with sex, drugs, or alcohol.

But these are all excuses. I beg for forgiveness on my knees before you, my dear readers. Am I forgiven? No? Insert Rage Comix face "Okay…". Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!

Now that I've groveled, please read Love. It's my ItaAn story. Please review as my AWESOME friend KillerMay has. I need to PM you. I'm sorry that I haven't gotten around to it.

Okay, so anyway, review here, and review now.