Enjoy!
The main Uchiha household was hosting the elaborate dinner Mikoto and Mebuki had worked all day to prepare to celebrate their respective children starting their shinobi training.
Eight-year-old Naruto, as expected, had been all but bouncing off the walls. Throughout their meal, the blonde had dominated the conversation as he excitedly recounted the many dangerous and 'cool' missions he imagined he, Sasuke, and Sakura would soon be going on.
Sasuke, too, had been in high spirits, as was evidenced by milder than usual back and forth with Naruto. The typical rivalry had settled for the evening as Sasuke too looked forward to the future Naruto was painting for everyone at the table.
For Naruto, this moment was a much-awaited one. The blonde recognized the start of his Academy days as the first stepping stone to being just like the late Yondaime and Kushina and the first step on his journey to becoming Hokage. "I'll make my two Tou-san's and two Kaa-san's proud. Just you watch!"
Mebuki, seated beside Mikoto, shared a look with the Uchiha Matriarch at the bittersweet moment.
Sasuke, too, had eagerly and often impatiently awaited the start of his formal ninja training. The youngest Uchiha was looking forward to finally having an opportunity to catch up to his beloved Nii-san.
For years now, Sasuke had struggled with the feeling of being behind in skill, talent, and every other which way in comparison to Itachi. All of this was exacerbated because Sasuke had not yet had the chance to start his formal training. How was one supposed to catch up in a race that had not yet started? Tomorrow morning, Sasuke thought, could not come fast enough.
Sakura had surprisingly been the only one not swept up in the excitement of the evening. The rosette unknowingly shared the sentiment of being behind without yet having started.
What exactly was Sakura lacking? Strength, stamina, chakra, talent, aim, civilian parents, and so the list went on.
No, Sakura was not ashamed of her parents or their background.
Mebuki and Kizashi had both been as supportive as they could be. While they were both hesitant to allow their only biological child to jump into a world they were unfamiliar with, a world in which Kizashi and Mebuki could do little to protect her, they both understood she needed to jump into the fray.
The Haruno's may not have had any ninjutsu or special kekkei genkai to pass on to Sakura. Still, she had inherited the essential part of themselves: a selfless love for others for which one would endure anything and everything.
For Naruto, for Sasuke, for Itachi.
She believed in Naruto, who would one day lead, love, and care for the village like a parent does their child.
Sakura believed in Sasuke, who would eventually step out from under his brother's shadows and step out onto his own equally brilliant path.
Lastly, Sakura believed in Itachi, who would one day pursue peace without the need for kunai, blood draw, or jutsu.
Sakura wholeheartedly believed in her boys.
When it came to herself, however, Sakura was unsure what to believe in. All she had ever been known by was her obnoxiously colored hair and much too wide forehead. For Sakura, there was little to no purpose found in either of those things.
How Sakura fit into her boys' visions of the future, she was not sure.
And that frightened her to the core.
After helping out his Kaa-san and Mebuki-san clean up the dinner table, Itachi made his way towards the garden, one simmering cup of green tea in each hand.
Sasuke and Naruto had run up to Sasuke's room to compare ninja gear and wraps. In their enthusiasm, the boys assumed their pink-haired friend had followed suit. They failed to notice that Sakura had instead made her way into the main house's garden.
Itachi announced his presence in the garden by the light clinking of the ceramic ware as he set down the teacups.
Whatever was on her mind, it was strong enough to arrest the automatic smile she had started expressing when she turned his way.
It was a disquieting image for the Uchiha heir. Sakura's expressions, and his innate ability to interpret her complex emotional world, had been a paradoxical constant in his life. Her constant affections and worry over his well-being, over Sasuke's, always gave Itachi a sense of relief, purpose, comfort. The fatigue in his muscles after missions, the tension in his scalp after clan meetings, and the weariness in his bones after many nightmare-plagued sleepless nights all faded to the background when those bright viridian eyes peered deep into his chaotic, obsidian eyes.
Sakura's current expression guarded the answers Itachi was searching for. The rosette's face was one of relief suspended by the anxious tightness of her eyes, lips, cheeks. Sakura's racing thoughts stunted the joy and comfort she had felt at sensing the Uchiha heir's presence.
Itachi came to stand beside the rosette, who was standing underneath her namesake while longingly looking at the red Amaryllis flowers that bloomed around the sakura tree. The cherry blossom flower gently cradled in her hands directly contradicted the harsh gaze she directed at the pink petaled flower as Sakura evaluated the Amaryllis and Sakura flowers.
"Ino says that Amaryllis flowers are for those who are strong, beautiful, and lovely."
Sakura's soft words confirmed Itachi's suspicions.
Itachi didn't know what was bothering his friend. However, the critical gaze she had directed at her namesake had the Uchiha deduce that her thoughts centered on her longstanding and deep-rooted insecurities.
It had been a while since Itachi had seen such a dejected and forlorn expression on the rosette's face. And it irked him that he could not do anything to silence the clanging cymbals of insecurity clamoring in her head.
For the second time in his life, Itachi wished he had more of his mother's soothing and comforting touch.
The first time Itachi had made that wish was the first time he had run into a teary-eyed Sakura. Itachi had come across the clearing where the pinkette and a handful of her agemates had noisily gathered that afternoon.
Eight-year-old Itachi had hesitated a second too long.
He froze on the spot as the image of the cheerful and headstrong six-year-old rosette was reduced to a torrent of tears and dejection. Sakura's tears grew fiercer with each insult thrown her way.
How could they not, Itachi thought, when the insults hit the very marks that made Sakura notable, vivid, unique. He understood all too well, however, that the flip side of the same coin made her distinct, conspicuous, a freak. The same features Sakura was destined to incorporate into her sense of identity were the very things being torn apart by the young, naive, and crude girls surrounding her.
Before Itachi could recover and give in to the instinct to shield, protect, and defend his precious friend, a blonde-haired girl with unmistakable Yamanaka features emerged from the foliage opposite of him.
Eight-year-old Itachi had kicked himself mentally, repeatedly after that, particularly after moments in which Sakura would single-handedly ease the hurt and tension in his own heart.
He might have missed his opportunity to comfort his friend in the past, but eleven-year-old Itachi was not about to make the same mistake twice.
Eleven-year-old Itachi still felt just as inadequately prepared to comfort the rosette. However, his insecurities on the matter were not strong enough to keep him from reaching out and cupping Sakura's smaller hands in his.
The rosette hiccuped as a gasp held back the sob that had threatened to spill out as Itachi's warm hands enveloped her own.
Itachi was all too aware that even a mild gust of wind could set the delicate cherry blossom petals into a scatter.
"Sakura," Itachi murmured his friend's namesake as softly as he could.
Sakura's sniffles steadily grew in frequency as he continued to cradle her hands. Though he knew his chest would protest at the sight of rosette's tears streaming down her face, Itachi knelt in front of Sakura to encourage her to look up at him.
The sight of her quivering lips sent a pang of helplessness through him.
Itachi slowly, gently, and tenderly reached out with his right hand to catch a fresh tear. The warm wetness seemed to scorch Itachi as it ran down his hand. The raven-haired boy held on as he reflected on the fact that Sakura's hot tears were but a fragment of the internal pain she was feeling.
"Sakura," Itachi tried again while gently nudging her face to look up at him.
The rosette briefly met his gaze before she threw her arms around his shoulders, the cherry blossom in her hands, falling to the ground forgotten.
Sakura tucked her face into the crook of her raven-haired friend's neck, eagerly seeking out and soaking up the warm comfort of her friend. Sakura's fresh tears burned near the pulse of his neck, the heat seeming to extend into his chest as he cradled the rosette in his arms.
Itachi gave Sakura a few moments until her sobs and hiccups subsided. Before Itachi could part his lips to utter her name a third time, Sakura mumbled the most heartbreaking sentence.
"I'm scared."
Itachi's whole frame stilled at her words.
How many times, Itachi thought, had he dreamed of Sakura uttering those very words? In his nightmares, however, Sakura had always directed those words at Itachi. In those distressing figments of sleep, Sakura had been afraid of him. Never had he imagined that she would be clinging onto him as if he were the only thing standing between her and her worst fears.
"What scares you, Sakura?" Itachi asked, her sniffles diminishing with each circle the Uchiha rubbed onto her back.
Fear was a normal emotion in the shinobi world, so Itachi refused to make light of Sakura's words. Nor would he lie to her and claim she had nothing to fear, especially when he was still not sure of what her primary concern was.
In the proper context, Itachi knew, fear could save a teammate's life. The shinobi culture initially pressed its people to repress fear, claiming fear only served to distract and detract. It was not until recent times that fear was recognized as an emotion mediating a surge of heightened awareness that merely needed redirection.
Perhaps Itachi could help Sakura see her fear the same way.
The rosette pushed herself up against Itachi's shoulders to finally look into Itachi's warm and patient obsidian eyes.
"What if my pink hair makes me stand out so much that it makes it impossible for us to complete missions?" She rambled on as the thoughts that had undoubtedly been swirling and festering inside of her finally found an outlet. "Or worse, what if my clumsiness gets Naruto or Sasuke hurt? What if…" Sakura's viridian gaze dropped from his, as if ashamed.
Itachi had hoped that as Sakura grew in age, skill, and experience, the deep and insensible insecurities that had taken root in her mind at a young and impressionable age had been clearly, the rosette still intermittently wrestled with those thoughts of hers.
Itachi tilted his head to the right, trying to catch her gaze once more but knowing that her pauses were always the crucial components in her rambles.
"What if I'm too weak?" the rosette finally divulged.
"What if I'm never strong enough to… stand beside… you… Itachi?"
For a second time that evening, Itachi froze. The resemblance between his rose-haired friend and her namesake had never been as clear and breathtaking as it was to Itachi at that moment.
The Cherry blossom trees would conserve their energy and resources for the better part of a year just to burst into color year after year. Their blooms served as a reminder of the fleeting beauty of life, which was such a relevant theme in the life of a shinobi.
For the better part of her childhood, Haruno Sakura would work hard to reform the lines and curves of her body, push her intelligence to the limits, and tirelessly refine the unique skill set that would help her blossom into the Kunoichi she was always meant to be. Haruno Sakura would do all of this and more just so she could sweat, bleed, and cry beside her loved ones. Her dedication, grace, and strength would serve to remind those around her why they were fighting in the first place: to protect their loved ones. For Sakura, this meant one day standing beside Itachi and helping him weather the hardships that came his way.
Itachi would not make any promises over things he had no control over. He did not know if Sakura's dream to stand beside him would ever become a reality. There were many hours of training, missions, and heartbreak between the Sakura that stood before him now and the one who could stand beside him out on the battlefield. Part of him wished to spare her the grief and brokenness that came with the 'glamorous' lifestyle that many civilians believed shinobi led. A part of himself fiercely rose to the challenge - of protecting Sakura, of keeping her soft, innocent, whole.
The other half of Itachi, the more selfish, self-serving, and wearied side of him, couldn't help but hope for a future in which another stood beside him. The Uchiha heir was ever grateful for Shisui and the burden he helped Itachi carry. However, Itachi longed to have someone he could seek out to rehumanize him when the pressures of the clan sought to expunge the gentleness of his nature. He wanted the indulgence of a warm hug to remind him of his beating heart when the nightmares threatened to convince him he was a monster. He needed the brilliance of a smile reserved just for Itachi, not the Uchiha heir, genius, or model shinobi.
"May I keep this?" Itachi finally spoke, reaching down to retrieve the forgotten cherry blossom on the ground.
"Huh? You want to keep this…?" Sakura tilted her head up at Itachi, brows furrowing in confusion. "But it's just going to dry up and die…"
"That may be so," Itachi began as he gently transferred the blossom entirely into his right palm, "but it will serve as a reminder of what's to come."
Sakura blinked up at him a few times. Equal parts wonder and question flickered in her eyes.
While Sakura could only see the resemblance through her fruitless branches in the dead of winter reflected back at her, Itachi saw the burst of selfless beauty that stemmed from each of its branches.
"This cherry blossom may be at the end of its life cycle now, but we both know an entire spring field of cherry blossoms is lying in wait to bloom once again."
"A spring field of… cherry blossoms…" Sakura muttered under her breath, before her brows rose in understanding at Itachi's words.
Sakura couldn't help the teary smile, a soft and genuine smile this time, at Itachi's play on her full name. A flicker of hope reginited in her heart at the silent promise in Itachi's words.
Like the arduous and bitter winters the Cherry Blossom trees had to endure before their branches sprung to life in the warmer seasons, so too did his coral-haired friend have to endure before she could finally see her potential made manifest.
"I will eagerly await the first bloom of the season."
Sakura crashed into Itachi's chest once more before tightly wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Arigato, Itachi." Sakura spoke into his chest as her happy tears lightly dampened Itachi's navy top.
Mindful of the blossom in his hand, Itachi returned the gesture by wrapping his free arm around the tops of her shoulders and resting his cheek atop her head.
Ever since eight-year-old Sakura, and newly-minted Academy student, had spotted Itachi atop the red-roofed, three-storied building neighboring the Academy, Sakura had taken extra care to look out for his presence on days she knew he would be in Konoha.
The first two weeks, Itachi had made it easy.
Sakura would feel a tickle at the back of her neck. It was subtle and gentle, like the wind billowing loose sleeves just enough to make you aware of their presence once again.
Just as Sakura had sharpened her senses enough to recognize, respond, and zero in on Itachi's form as his feet descended on the red roof, the Uchiha heir upped the challenge.
'Chakra suppression,' Itachi had called it when she questioned him about it later.
He had gone on to explain that all shinobi used the skill to a certain extent. The higher the rank, the more necessary it was to refine the skill. An even more important skill, Itachi had emphasized, was chakra recognition.
"It is important to keep the enemy from spotting you," eleven-year-old Itachi explained. "But that skill does you no good if you cannot sense the kunai held to the back of your neck."
It seemed Itachi intended to refine Sakura's chakra recognition skill during the downtime she and her classmates had between spars.
The exercise had started by merely testing Sakura's ability to detect the moment in which Itachi appeared. He had begun by gently flaring his chakra, increasing the amplitude and frequency by tiny increments until he found Sakura's baseline. From there, he would slowly increase the difficulty by diminishing one of those two factors.
When Sakura had attuned herself enough to his chakra fluctuations, which currently rose and fell to the rhythm of his even breaths, Itachi incorporated the third factor by switching up his location.
Itachi watched atop his new vantage point.
Naruto and Sasuke were once again facing off during the student's designated afternoon sparring time. The boys' regular bickering before their spars had even started was not enough of a nuisance to keep their spars from becoming weekly highlights for Instructors and students alike.
Used to their antics, Sakura started to tune them out and gently swayed on her feet, a stance she slipped into when daydreaming.
This momentary lapse in attention on Sakura's part allowed Itachi to appreciate the exact moment in which her form stilled, eyes widened, and gaze rose to a spot between his old and current vantage points.
Itachi patiently waited as she sorted through the sensory information she was receiving. Her memory was telling her to look to the right, towards the red-roofed three-story building he had appeared on since the beginning of their little exercise.
Itachi watched with anticipation as her brows furrowed, and she gave his old spot a cursory glance.
She knew he was not standing there, but habits were difficult to shake off.
He vaguely noted the start of Naruto and Sasuke's spar, but his attention was fixed on the rosette, who had now closed her eyes. Her right hand rose as if reaching up to grab something in front of her before both hands settled into the ram sign in front of her chest. The classmates in Sakura's immediate vicinity made nothing of her movements as they assumed she had simply started meditating.
She could have fooled him if not for the sudden upward curve of her lips.
Sakura turned her body to face his general direction, inclined her head back to level her face to the tree branch he had settled on, and revealed viridian eyes that locked onto his obsidian ones.
Itachi's warm gaze refocused on the rosette's lips as she confirmed her success with a mouthed out 'Found you.'
He half-turned away from Sakura, attempting to suppress the warmth growing in his chest. However, Sakura still caught the tail end of the smile on his face.
Itachi closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, enjoying the small moment of unexpected bliss.
The last time anyone had directed those words at him without a hidden purpose had been years ago when Itachi managed to indulge his otouto in a game of hide-and-seek.
Sasuke's wide-eyed, adoring, and impressionable expression came from the mere act of finally finding his brother. There was no hidden agenda, motivation, or rationale behind Sasuke's exhaustive search for Itachi back then.
At a young age, Sasuke had been perfectly content to sit beside his beloved Nii-san. Even while the younger Uchiha's imagination carried him far away from Itachi in thought, Sasuke knew his Nii-san would never allow him to get too carried away.
Itachi liked to think that the comfort and confidence Sasuke gained by having his older brother around allowed the young Uchiha to push the limits of his imaginary adventures.
The joy Sasuke's wide-eyed expression brought forth inside Itachi's chest then resurfaced at Sakura's openly delighted grin in the present.
As promised, the Uchiha heir had no intention of missing even the first bloom of the cherry blossoms.
A/N: Super huge thank you to When The Sun Rises for highlighting the lack of context in the first published version of the last chapter. It was definitely a doozy, and hopefully not too many people had to suffer through that first version. (So sorry for those who did!)
Thank you again everyone for all of the kind reviews, favorites and follows! It's always so exciting to get notifications about them, and the reviews totally make my days!
There's a much less time intensive elective for these next four weeks, and residency applications are off to wherever it is they go after clicking 'submit', so hopefully it won't take me so long to update next time (famous last words).