Disclaimer: According to Shaded Silvering Grey, the skies are falling ;P So maybe now I have a chance to own Naruto? *sighs* i didn't think so.
A/N: hey, this isn't one of my humor chapters, so...just felt i should warn you! Also, updates are a tad bit less often than normal simply because this story is at a point i have to think over the plot a bit more, so i require a little more time between updates right now than i did before. Sorry. But i tried to give you a slightly longer chapter to make up for it. Slightly.
Oh, and love to JaggerMania, for joining the itachi/sakura cult. Congratulations, lol.
Dead silence reigned in the car as Itachi drove her home. Sakura occasionally glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. His black ponytail hung loosely over his shoulder, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel, and his eyes focused on the road.
His gaze shifted to her and he gave a small smirk before returning his attention outside.
Sakura snapped her eyes forward. Her brain returned to his little stunt outside the dressing rooms and her stomach immediately dove for her toes and ricocheted back up to her throat.
That, that…was not fair.
At all.
She should have stopped him. Or at least popped his other eye black and blue - anything except stand there and melt into a pile of goo.
She exhaled.
The intention was to make the shopping experience so traumatic to him that he would never pressure her to go again. So how did it backfire on her? How did everything involving the name Itachi Uchiha backfire on her? Was it his personal goal to make her life complicated, uncertain, and beyond confusing? A game of amusement he's playing? Or was he genuine?
She used to believe that people were as simple as they appeared. There's no need to question face-value. It was easy, wasn't it? Itachi is a stereotypical hotshot playboy and her mother the hardworking wife with a comatose husband. Nothing hard about that. Until Itachi shows an amazing depth of generosity and her mother turns out to be an adulterer.
When had her life switched upside down from everything she was comfortable with?
Her chest squeezed and she absently rubbed it.
When had life become so…painful?
Her world used to be so small and unimportant; babysitting her bratty little sister, choosing a dress for the school dance, getting good grades to make her…
Her eyes pricked and she squeezed away the looming tears.
Good grades to make her father proud.
Every day a good school report came in the mail, he would take her for ice-cream at their favorite dairy. He would dip his finger in cold treat and smear it on her nose. He would steal from her bowl and she would snatch ice-cream from his. Then he would take her to the park to tease the ducks with bread crumbs or, as she got older, just dip their feet in the lake.
A grade report came in the mail two days ago. And he wasn't there to chide her for the slipping grades. Or hug her until she finished reeling from his disappointment and felt confident enough to try again. He wasn't there to take her to the park anymore. It was their special tradition; good grades or no.
It was an old, dusty tradition that she wrapped up in a cardboard box and hid away in the darkest corner of her heart's closet. He wasn't conscious to spend time with her. He was in a coma. He was a shell of flesh that couldn't talk to her, couldn't tease her, couldn't comfort her. And all because her mother…if it wasn't for her mother…
…her mother.
With an out lash of energy, Sakura slammed her fist on the dashboard. Then she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. She hated her mother. She hated her.
If her driver was upset about her attempt to put a dent in his car, he didn't say anything. He kept driving.
And Sakura kept weeping.
Many minutes passed before her tears reduced to small sniffles. Eventually she was able to lower her hands and stare at her feet, silently daring Itachi to rebuke her. But he didn't. He didn't so much as glance in her direction.
It took them fifteen more minutes to reach her house. Far longer than it should have. She quietly wondered if he was taking a long route on purpose; to give her time to compose herself.
Whatever the case, his Mercedes finally pulled into her driveway. She stiffened upon seeing the car beside them. But there was no avoiding crossing her mother's path. She no longer worked two jobs. She had agreed not to; no longer needed to. Itachi wanted her to spend more time with her family; to rebuild relationships.
But Sakura refused to spend time with her. She avoided her mother at every turn. She ate her food in her room. She did her homework in her room. She grieved in her room. She no longer knew Naomi Sakura. And she wanted nothing to do with the cheater who had taken over her mother's body.
It took Sakura another few minutes to realize the car was parked but neither she nor Itachi had moved. She glanced at him to find him studying her in return.
She turned away from the gentle worry in his black orbs.
Crossing her arms, she put on her stoniest expression and glared out her window. Beyond that, she didn't move. Couldn't.
She didn't want to face the inside of her own home.
Suddenly, the Itachi shifted the gears and backed the car out of the driveway.
Her head snapped around. "What are you doing?"
He kept his eyes on the road but replied, "You are not ready to return home. So I'm taking you somewhere else."
"Where?"
He ignored her question.