Searing pain emanated from her stomach and shot through her lower back up her spine. Izumi curled into a ball, holding her stomach and fighting back tears to no avail. She didn't know if she was crying more from the pain, or what the pain represented.
Another bolt shot through her nervous system. Her stomach contracted in on itself as if every muscle was trying to squeeze into a tight bead, and biting her lip was all she could do to not scream out. She didn't want to wake Itachi. She didn't want to see his gentle face contorted in sympathy and pity. She didn't want to see her failure reflected in his kind eyes. He would never say it, but she wondered if he regretted marrying her, if he wished he had gone with a choice from the clan elders.
Izumi pulled back the light blanket covering her and made her way to the bathroom as quietly as the pain would allow her to. Her footsteps fell heavy on the tatami mat, creating a thumping sound that any shinobi would be humiliated by.
'One more thing to be ashamed of,' Izumi thought broken-heartedly. She felt like a failure as a wife, as a woman, as an Uchiha, and now as a kunoichi too. She was the future matriarch of the clan; the clan needed her, and she couldn't do this one thing, the only thing they really expected of her.
Izumi used the wall to help her reach the bathroom and settled hard on the toilet. Her stomach roiled from the motion, threatening to heave up everything she had eaten for dinner. She closed her eyes and thought desperately of the cool tile beneath her feet. She wanted to lay on the floor and waste away until the pain subsided, until she felt nothing. Izumi pulled down her underwear, knowing what she would find.
She opened her eyes and looked at her failure stained bright red on the cloth of her underwear. Really it taunted her, the red circle on the white cloth, almost like the Uchiha fan nestled into her panties, mocking her and her infertility. Bitterness was on her tongue and disappointment settled like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach, swirling like a beast lurking in wait. She stared at her menstruation wondering if even once the clotted tissue and blood seen every month had been a baby. Just once. Just once had they managed to conceive? Had her body rejected it? Had her body strangled the life from her before she'd ever known it existed? Or after nearly 10 years, had she failed even at that? Had her body ever once nurtured another soul?
Izumi looked at her hands, pale and shaking. She felt a woman so much more than her 29 years. Every bone ached from the sheer weight of her burden. Each year that passed derided her, mocked her, taunted her with the fear that she'd never conceive. That her cousins and aunts would continue to give words of encouragement to her face and whisper behind their hands when they turned from her. Many shinobi didn't live past 30, and though she had largely cut back on missions in preparation for her and Itachi's ascension, she was still pushing her luck thinking that she'd have any more time. The Uchiha council was clear: she only had 17 months left.
She stood on weak knees and grabbed a cloth from the rack over the toilet. She wet it with cool water from the faucet and wiped her center and the back of her thighs, ignoring the sickeningly sweet metallic tang filling up the room. She ran the cloth back under the stream to cleanse it of her transgression then rubbed herself again. She repeated the actions in the same twisted ritual she'd been doing for years: rinsing the cloth clean, wiping herself, rinsing the cloth clean again until it no longer came back brownish red and the water finally ran clear.
Once she was certain that she was clean, Izumi slipped on her emergency pair of underwear and the cotton pad that would keep her from ruining their bed. Her stomach was still uneasy and cramping, but she could make it back to bed now. She prayed to the gods that she hadn't woken Itachi; he had enough to deal with with the increase of his clan head responsibilities.
Sliding open the shoji doors, Izumi saw that like every other prayer, the gods refused to answer this one too. Itachi stood at the edge of the bed, fitting a new sheet over the futon. A hot cup of tea steamed on the tray beside his side of the bed along with the herbs she took to help ease her menstrual cramps. Noticing as soon as the door slid open, Itachi set the pillows against the wall and walked over to her. His hands were a cool relief skating across her burning skin as he took her elbow to bear her weight.
Her legs shook with each step she took towards the bed, but Itachi, patient as always, guided her with little more than an encouraging hand placed against her lower back. He helped her settle into the bed then placed a heated bag of uncooked rice against her stomach and another against the small of her back. Izumi nearly moaned as the heat seeped through her skin, soothing the ache of her tired muscles. Itachi's hand brushed gently against her forearm causing her to open her eyes. She gave him a weary smile and took the green tea and candied ginger. She placed the ginger on her tongue, content to let its flavor melt into her mouth rather than stress her weary body with the tasl of chewing, then she scowled down at the teacup like a toddler told to eat her vegetables. After so many years of difficult menstruations, she should be used to the awful taste, but she still much preferred jasmine to green.
Itachi smiled at his wife, both amused by her pouting and sympathetic to her pain. He left her for a moment to grab a wet washcloth and a basin of water from the bathroom and dabbed at the sweat on her brow. Izumi closed her eyes again, relishing in the simple relief her doting husband brought her.
"Thank you," her voice shook with tears. Itachi pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and brushed the sweaty whisps of her long chestnut hair from her face. He placed the washcloth in the basin at the side of the bed and settled himself under the covers. He waited, allowing Izumi to hide under the guise of dutifully drinking her tea, but they both knew she was avoiding the same conversation they'd been having for so, so many years now. Once her cup was empty, Itachi gently wrapped his hands around hers and she surrendered the barrier to him. He placed the porcelain cup back on the tray and looked forward, waiting patiently for when she was ready to speak.
Izumi opened her mouth, but her lips trembled. The tears that were once washed away streamed down her cheeks, dotting the bedsheets with their persistence. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I—"
"Izumi. There is nothing wrong with you," Itachi argued firmly. He placed his hand over hers in a comforting gesture then slid his arms around her. "The gods will decide when it is time."
"We say that every month. What if the gods have decided, Itachi? What if they've decided that I am tainting the blood of the main family? What purpose do I have if not to bear the Uchiha heir?" Izumi cursed herself as soon as the words left her mouth. Without seeing him, she felt his arms tense around her thanks to her waspish tongue wanting to lash out at anything she could injure. She couldn't meet his eyes, but she heard the hurt in his voice.
"Is that truly what you feel of us? Of our marriage and our love? Of yourself?" Itachi tried not to feel the sting of her words, knowing that she hadn't meant them the way they sounded. He knew that she was unfairly looked at as the cause of their infertility and bore more than her share of the worry, but he couldn't help the fear nagging at his mind that she was falling out of love with him. He couldn't help but worry that she resented him and their marriage. There had never been another woman for him, and every month Itachi prayed more desperately than he would like to admit that he could give her what she desired. If she finally had the child she craved so much, he wouldn't have to worry that one day she would look at him only with disgust.
"Itachi, of course not." She turned and buried her face into his chest. "But I can't help but wonder if we were selfish, marrying for love instead of doing what was best for the clan. What if this is our punishment?"
"Izumi," He whispered gently, troubled by her line of reasoning. Were the gods really so cruel?
"What if the council is right to make Sasuke marry a better choice? Sasuke wouldn't have been placed in this position if only I could—"
"The council was no doubt already preparing for Sasuke; our situation only gave them an excuse to press the issue sooner."
"But if they are right, Itachi? What if—"
"No." He bit out uncharacteristically sharp. Izumi looked up at him, eyes wide with shock; it was rare that he ever lost his temper, especially with her. But she could feel his grip tighten around her arm as his Sharingan swirled and blazed in the darkness. Itachi took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
"I have been a dutiful son. I have been a dutiful shinobi…You are the only choice I have ever made for myself…" He placed his finger under her chin and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. "I cannot believe that the gods would punish me for this, for this one act of selfishness. I cannot believe they would take you from me, Izumi. We will have a child when it is time, and if it is never time, you will still remain the love of my life; I will not surrender that."
Tears streamed down her cheeks and pooled against his fingers. She sniffed against the liquid threatening to run down her nose and buried herself in her husband's arms. Izumi clutched at the soft, worn fabric of his nightshirt, taking in his familiar scent and sturdy frame around her. She had always leeched comfort from his immovable resolve, and she needed his strength and stability more now than even when the Nine Tails had attacked the village on the night they met.
Their room was silent and still, the only sound coming from her sniffles and her tears dropping to the blanket. Crickets chirped outside in the moonlight and Itachi envied their calm, their peace, the simplicity of their lives to serenade the moon during the hush of late night. He took steady, smooth breaths while rubbing her back. His Sharingan swirled dangerously, and he could almost feel Amaterasu seeking to be unleashed with the torrent storm rippling beneath his skin. He could see no other option but the one he had mentioned a few years into their conception issues. He closed his eyes and practiced his breathing, focusing on only the flow of his breath in, filling his lungs, and out. When he finally opened his eyes, they were returned to their steady deep black.
"Izumi," Itachi looked down to his distraught wife and thought his words over carefully. "Perhaps it is time we see Lady Tsunade."
Izumi shook her head, still clutching on to his shirt with her blunt nails. "No, not Lady Tsunade. I can't let the Hokage know of a struggle so important to our clan." Damn her but her pride wouldn't let her surrender to such a disgrace. If she was going to be infertile, the least she could do was keep the knowledge from their oldest rival clan. Even if the Senju, really only Lady Tsunade now, and the Uchiha had come to a tentative peace after the Nidaime's passing, the generations of pain were still etched in her blood.
Itachi took a deep, shaking breath against the dimmed but not extinguished fire burning in his chest. He understood her reservations, but the tension between the Senju and Uchiha meant nothing to him if Lady Tsunade had any insight that could save his marriage from crumbling like a neglected shrine. He waited for a moment, making sure his voice was free from any trace of irritation or anger.
"Sakura then?" The question hung in the air between them for some time.
Izumi unburied her face from Itachi's shirt and thought for a bit. Sakura was a neutral party in the political dealings of clans; there would be no suspicion if Izumi went to see her. If anything, she could use the excuse of going to look for Sasuke if any of her family was nosy enough to question her. Sakura was a great medic, almost better than Lady Tsunade now, and she could ask Lady Tsunade to confer without being able to legally mention that her patient was Izumi. Maybe Sakura was her last chance.
Slowly, Izumi nodded, and though imperceivable to his wife, Itachi released a deep breath. "Sakura. I don't want to…but it feels too prideful to wait any longer. We're running out of time. If I can't conceive, the council expects that Sasuke's bride conceives immediately…and if she does—I couldn't bear that, Itachi." Izumi's voice broke with the weight of her tears and the residual pain from her menstruation, and all of it threatened to overwhelm her again.
Itachi nodded and shushed her gently, rubbing smooth circles on her back. He held her tightly as fresh tears slipped down her cheek again and she clenched the bedsheets. Eventually, Izumi nodded off, lured to sleep by her exhaustion, the warmth and security of his arms, and the soothing quiet of his breathing. Itachi looked down at his wife, sleeping with some peace, and wished his mind would follow her.
But his thoughts were filled with an insidious worry that, if he was honest with himself, had been building for years. Children had started out as an abstract thought in their marriage. They knew they would have them eventually, but they had both been focused on their careers as shinobi, and they were only 19; they had plenty of time. Then when they had talked about his retirement from ANBU to focus on his training as clan head, children had seemed like a more tangible reality; they had actually started planning for a child. Now, Itachi couldn't remember the last time they had made love, not had sex, made love. He couldn't remember the last time a kiss was just a kiss, the last time a caress could simply be that. He couldn't remember the last time they were intimate solely for the desire of it, to connect to each other, without tracking her menstruation by the moon and on calendars and at council meetings.
He couldn't remember the last time and he feared she would come to despise his touch.
He feared that his touch would symbolize everything he couldn't give her. That one day she would look at him and her eyes would only hold bitterness and disgust. He feared that one day she would never accept his touch again.
Was it selfish that he could live his life without a child? Was it selfish that he no longer wanted them to try? A child that combined the best of them would be nice, but he could not sacrifice his wife for that goal. He would not sacrifice the peace he'd carved out for himself as a pacifist in the world of shinobi.
And yet, he had no plan of action. He had wanted to go to Lady Tsunade and Sakura towards the beginning of their trouble conceiving, but now, fear at the very idea churned sickeningly in his gut. If Sakura had no answers, if Lady Tsunade had none, those insidious thoughts whispered that he would lose his wife's love forever.
Sasuke slipped his shoes off and set them on the mat in the waiting room. He slipped on the pair of socks always ready for him and walked silently on the tatami mats. Itachi stood in the kitchen listening to the babbling of the water heating in the pot; brewing tea was usually a peaceful experience, but he couldn't find any solace in the activity, not when he had just barely closed his eyes to rest before his brother had knocked gently on his door.
Itachi added the tea leaves to the hot water and carried the pot on a tray out to the table. The younger Uchiha folded himself under the table and nodded his head in thanks. Itachi took his own seat and began to fill the teacups with the hot, swirling brew. The two men took their cups and held them up to each other, quietly speaking the traditional blessing, then took a long drink. The tea slipped down their throats and swirled in their stomachs, heating their souls pleasantly with the warmth rising through their bodies. They sat in relative silence, listening to each other's breathing and the autumn wind blowing through the village. Both of their minds were filled with thoughts swirling like a whirlpool.
"Izumi's out?" Sasuke broke the silence with his voice still rough from sleep. Itachi nodded to him, taking another sip of tea before answering.
"She went to see Sakura at the hospital." Itachi had walked her to the door after staying up and holding her for the rest of the night. He'd trudged back to their bed and laid his head down for what seemed like only a minute before Sasuke had knocked on his door. Itachi had felt groggy and slow, two feelings that could spell the end of shinobi. Even though he was essentially retired, Itachi still kept his body in fighting form and his shinobi instincts sharp, so groggy and slow were not welcomed feelings.
"Is she alright?" Sasuke asked with light concern; Itachi didn't seem worried, so Sasuke figured whatever it was couldn't be life threatening or else his brother would have been at the hospital with her.
Itachi gave a slow nod and took a deep breath. He was uncharacteristically hesitant. Sasuke tipped his head in recognition. "She's menstruating again."
Itachi nodded, taking a distracted sip.
"Last night. Sometimes I wonder if we should keep trying, or if we should stop and let fate and the gods have their way." He watched the dark liquid with a pensive furrow of his brows, his eyes tracing the water rippling from his movements.
It was rare to see Itachi downtrodden or unsure, and yet as Sasuke looked at him, Itachi seemed weary and at a loss. He didn't really know what to say to his brother, didn't know how to comfort him. He knew nothing beyond the basics of how children were conceived, and from the way his mother had warned him to be careful, it seemed like getting a girl pregnant was incredibly easy. But then if it was that easy, why had Itachi and Izumi been struggling for years?
Sasuke placed his hand over Itachi's, drawing his brother's eyes up to his fearsome black depths.
"Sakura is the best at what she does; she won't rest until she's done everything she can. She won't fail you and Izumi. And I know my duty; I won't fail you either, Nii-san."
Itachi looked at his little brother's face, set with determination. Often it was so easy to imagine him still as the little kid who toddled around after him, always seeking his attention. But it was times like these when Itachi was reminded just how much his little brother had grown. Serious and convicted, Sasuke was quite relentless when he sent his mind to a task, and despite what the elders sometimes grumbled about, Sasuke had become quite determined to serve his duty to the clan…that worried Itachi more than it should have.
"I know you won't fail, Sasuke. You still have to surpass me someday." Sasuke gave him an arrogant smile, probably about to say that he already had, but Itachi held his hand up. "Just make sure that you do not sacrifice your own happiness in the process."
"You aren't having second thoughts about Izumi?" Sasuke questioned superficially, but they both knew the answer.
"Never. Even knowing all of this, I would choose Izumi again for a thousand lifetimes."
Sasuke nodded, predicting such, and finished his cup. To hear Itachi talk about Izumi, it was like she alone held the key to his happiness. Sasuke could admit that deep down, a part of him wanted that. A part of him wanted a wife that he would be happy to see when he came home, a wife that he would roll over to in the middle of the night and pull her close to him. He wanted a woman whose very presence calmed and centered him. But that part of him had to stay dormant. If he spent his timing looking for that woman, comparing every woman on his marriage list to that ideal, he would never choose anyone. He had let go of those wishes, but after his latest assignment, he'd found something he couldn't let go of.
"What brought you here, little brother?" Itachi asked, sensing that his little brother's visit was not just a social call; he watched Sasuke chew on some question that seemed to be a bigger bother to him. After some time, it seemed that Sasuke had finally figured out how he wanted to word his thoughts.
"Why did you give up ANBU?"
Itachi's eyes widened. He hadn't been expecting this question at all, much less that it would seem such a heavy question for Sasuke to voice. It wasn't unknown that he had always been more pacifistic by nature; he'd never really enjoyed the violence of shinobi life, but understood its necessity to keep those he cared about safe; he told Sasuke this.
"Izumi was also worried about me dying and only being told that my name is on the Memorial stone. The thought terrified her, but she made no demands of me. She knew the life of a shinobi and she knew what it meant to be such an elite shinobi as ANBU. I guess I decided that I would serve the village differently. I will obviously serve as the head of the Uchiha clan, but I figured that I could still protect the village as a proctor for the jōnin and ANBU selection exams."
"Do you regret it?"
"No." Itachi waited for a beat. "But you would."
It was Sasuke's turned to be shocked. He hadn't expected Itachi to strike so quickly at his fear.
"You thrive off of battle in a way that I do not. You are not content to sit back and watch others do what you feel you can do yourself. You, like Naruto, prefer to be in the thick of things, controlling the outcome with you own hands. There is nothing wrong with that, Otouto."
"The last few weeks babysitting the Hokage have been killing me," Sasuke grumbled, looking up to the ceiling in exasperation. Itachi shook his head and smiled at his little brother. Sometimes, Sasuke really had no patience.
"Don't let Lady Tsunade hear you complaining. I am sure she could find much worse duty for you." Sasuke shot a glare at the clear amusement in Itachi's voice.
"She's already threatened me with a genin team; I'll keep my mouth shut. If the elders really wanted me to get married, they would have petitioned to stick me with Hokage duty long ago."
"Are you close to breaking then, Sasuke? I thought you would have lasted a little longer than a few weeks." Itachi smiled and finished off the last of his tea. He picked up the used dishes and walked over to the kitchen to rinse them off.
"I'm going to choose from the scroll, just whoever I chose has to know that I'm not leaving ANBU—the missions not the babysitting."
"Is that something you will not compromise on, Sasuke? You will learn very quickly that a marriage will fail if you are not both working towards the same ends in some sort of agreement on how to reach them."
"It shouldn't be a problem, Nii-san. Whoever I marry is an Uchiha; all of our women are shinobi or a part of the police force, and they know what it means for us to be among the elite shinobi of the village."
Itachi contemplated Sasuke's words for a moment, coming back to sit at the table.
"Is that why you did not ask the council to accept the civilian you've been seeing? Does she not accept the life of a shinobi?"
Sasuke scoffed. Of course Kanami didn't accept the life of a shinobi; she didn't understand it, and Sasuke didn't think she had ever really tried to comprehend what it meant to be a weapon for their village. It had been pretty clear that she wanted a man with the title of an elite shinobi, but not the actual prowess and dedication it took to become one, let alone stay one. He'd thought he'd made it clear in the beginning that he wasn't the type of shinobi she was looking for.
"It was never anything serious with Kanami; she wants to be a trophy wife."
"And that is not what you desire for your wife?"
Sasuke looked towards the window and the grey clouds covering the sky. The warmth of autumn left over from summer was quickly fading to the grey and white of winter. "No."
"Then why involve yourself with her for so long?" Itachi asked with a skeptical raise of his eyebrow. While he had never necessarily agreed with Sasuke's strategy of dating different girls, Itachi wouldn't lie and say that he wasn't interested in why his brother had chosen to stay with Kanami for so many months if she was not what he was looking for.
Sasuke shrugged, still looking out the window. "Guess it was easier. With how many long term ANBU missions I was taking, I was out of the village more than I was in it." Sasuke turned back to see his brother nod with a pensive look. Itachi waited for a long moment before speaking again.
"And with your wife, do you intend to take such extensive missions again?"
Sasuke furrowed his brow. He hadn't really considered that. He'd just figured he would take whatever missions the Hokage assigned him, as he had been doing before protocol for his status as clan heir had been initiated. He figured his wife would accept that because she would already know the inner workings of the shinobi world; if a shinobi, especially ANBU, declined too many missions, well there were more clamoring to take their place. Could he even handle being couped in the village for long periods of time any more without going stir-crazy? It had been a month since his last mission out of the village, and he already felt his legs itching for the burn of racing through the trees and his palms twitching for harder combat than sparring.
"Guess I'll have to find one with something worth keeping me here," Sasuke tossed his brother a devious smirk.
The bark of laughter bubbled out before Itachi could even stop it. He shook his head with mirth at the sly grin on his little brother's face: so much like when they were younger and Sasuke had come up with one scheme or another to get him to play with him. "Good luck, Otouto. May the gods grant your wife the patience of a monk."
Izumi took a deep shaky breath and gripped the paper covering the examination table tightly between her fists. She didn't know she could feel worse than she had when she'd woken up to her menstruation, but here she was, tears streaming down her face with guilt and disappointment roiling in her belly. Sakura must think she was an absolute lunatic, struggling to get pregnant for nearly 10 years.
"I'm so embarrassed," Izumi wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve. From nearly the moment Sakura had walked in and so gently asked why she was here, the tears unleashed themselves. It would have been cathartic for Izumi if she had been in the privacy of her own home: to truly be able to talk about all of her fears and doubts and struggles. But releasing all of that to Sakura felt like a betrayal of her clan…and yet, there was still a lighter feeling to the tension weighing heavy on her shoulder.
"Don't be. Fertility issues are natural; many couples have them. Unfortunately, it just isn't talked about as a natural part of a marriage." Sakura laid her hand on Izumi's shoulder gently and handed her another tissue. Izumi gave her a small but grateful smile and accepted the tissue, drying her cheeks with the soft paper. Sakura smiled back to the other woman and went back to the physician's desk to check over her notes.
"Do you think there's hope? That I might be able to—?" Izumi couldn't say the words. To say the words was to give herself another glimmer of possibility, of maybe, and she didn't think she was strong enough to have that glimmer squashed again, officially, with such finality as by a medic's opinion.
Sakura looked over Izumi's medical chart carefully, making sure that she had recorded her notes to her usual pristine. She would set up every test and appointment now rather than wait and lose time. From the many times she'd spoken to women struggling with infertility, Sakura knew the enormous amount of faith and courage it had taken Izumi to come see her; she wouldn't betray that by being negligent. "I don't see why not; you and Itachi are both young and healthy. But of course, as typical practice, I can't promise anything. Once we run a few diagnostic tests, we'll have much more information to go off of. What I can promise, Izumi, is that I'll run every test to give you the best possible chance." Sakura walked over and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.
"Okay," Izumi gave a shaky, watery and watery laugh. "Thank you, Sakura," Izumi stood, pulling the medic into an unsuspecting hug.
"Of course." Sakura returned the hug, happy that she could at least give some measure of comfort. She truly couldn't imagine desperately wanting something for 10 years, only for it to be denied monthly like clockwork. On some level, it had to be a heavy burden over Izumi and Itachi's marriage, even if they were so in love that neither blamed the other. But to see Izumi and Itachi together, well, they really were the perfect couple. Izumi released the medic and sat back down. Sakura grabbed 2 lists of appointments spread out over the next few days and handed them to Izumi.
"Okay, so to recap. We'll start with the basics, making sure that structurally, everything is correct and working as it should be. I'll perform an examination to confirm that your uterus, cervix, and ovaries all feel normal. The lab will analyze the sample of your menstruation to make sure that your uterine wall is thick enough for an egg to attach—sometimes the problem is as simple as that. Are you following me so far?" Sakura paused to let some of the information sink in. Once Izumi nodded, she continued on. "For Itachi, we'll start by looking at his sperm count and development; we'll make sure that his little swimmers are moving normally. I'll also take a look at his tubes to see if his sperm are being transported as they should be. If we can rule out anything physically abnormal with the both of you, then we'll look at hormone production and balance."
Izumi fiddled with the paper, worrying it over in her hands. "Sakura… if none of those things turn out to be the problem?"
Sakura's smile dimmed in understanding, but she didn't let it completely slip from her face. "If none of those are the problem, then it wouldn't be a bad idea to talk about surrogacy. But we can cross that bridge if it looks like we'll need to go near it. I don't want to overwhelm you."
"I appreciate that. Itachi and I haven't talked about a surrogate. I don't think it's ever really crossed our minds. I guess we just believed getting pregnant wouldn't be that hard," Izumi looked out the office window, almost unable to bring herself to meet Sakura's eyes.
"I understand… Izumi, do you have anyone to talk to about this?" Sakura caged her question carefully. As the Matriarch-in-training, of course she didn't have many people she could share this issue with; it was the matriarch's first duty to provide an heir for the future prosperity of the clan. She doubted Izumi really felt comfortable fully talking to anyone, and many times, family could say the most biting words of all. Sure enough, Izumi shook her head.
"You're the only person I've really talked to. With the Uchiha medics and priests, it's more…clinical."
"I gotcha," Sakura nodded her understanding. "Well, I know it might not be something you want, but if you need a confidant, I'm here," she smiled brightly. Izumi returned her smile with a subdued one of her own.
"Thank you, Sakura. I'm not sure I feel comfortable divulging any more information, but it's nice to know about the option." Izumi stood and walk towards the door. Sakura followed her, wishing her well and reminding her of the dates for she and Itachi's first appointments.
Note at end: To everyone who reads, gives Kudos, leaves favorites, leaves reviews, follows/subscribes, bookmarks, or any other way you show your interest, a huge thank you. I'm glad that you are receiving something from me telling the story I want to tell.