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The shrill beeping of the complex machinery surrounding thirteen-year-old Itachi fades to the background as Sakura takes in her friend's sleeping form.
Itachi's silky, raven hair is a stark contrast to the crisp white hospital sheets he lays upon. His hair was, for the most part, tucked under his neck in his traditional low ponytail. However, fewer than usual tendrils were brought under control by the familiar, makeshift red hair tie peeking out from under the shadows of his slender neck.
The last memory the eleven-year-old rosette had of said hair tie stirs up a sentiment somewhere between amusement and affection, which sets a reminiscent smile in motion on Sakura's face.
He knew he was being ridiculous, being so attached to an inanimate object. It was a simple hair tie. Dirt, sweat, and mud had no doubt contributed to the gradual opacification of the disjoined band.
After his latest reconnaissance mission, Itachi's beloved red hair tie had met its end.
It was a simple affair.
Itachi had just finished arranging his long locks into his usual, no nonsense ponytail. He'd reached for his tie, and looped it around his mane once. Despite his awareness of the elastic's precarious condition and considerate handling of it, the elastic snapped before he could even run half of his hair through a second loop.
He'd stood in front of his dresser, hands frozen in his hair, for a few uncertain breaths before logic started up once again.
He could just get a new one. He should get a new one, if only for hygiene's sake. But every time he brought the now useless tie over to the trash bin in his room, Itachi just couldn't.
His fingers clenched up to the point of straining his joints, his body refusing to release the contents in his hand.
It must have been the fifteenth time that day that Itachi had tried but failed to part with the torn elastic.
Which was exactly how nine-year-old Sakura found the young Uchiha heir that afternoon: a fist clenched over a navy blue trash bin, a mild furrow of his brows in determination, and lips pressed together too tightly for the simple task he was engaged in.
"Itachi?," Sakura ventured, a single foot at the threshold of his room. The two rapid blinks of Itachi's eyes were the only indication Sakura had that she had startled the Uchiha. The rosette couldn't help the amused smile that stretched across her face at the thought of catching Itachi unawares. "What are you doing, Itachi?"
It was an innocent enough question, but Itachi could still detect the teasing undertone in Sakura's question.
In a movement that was a half second too fast to be casual, Itachi tucked the contents of his hand into his pocket.
Sakura's brow rose in question, a miniscule movement she'd adopted from the Uchiha in front of her. "What did you put in your pocket, Itachi?"
"It's nothing" Itachi spoke, voice calm, unrushed, casual.
Sakura, however, knew better. The fact that Itachi remained rooted to the spot meant that whatever he had been in the middle of had not yet been finished. Meaning that whatever he had casually stuffed into his right pocket was not actually nothing.
"So you were holding your hand out over the trash can for nothing?" Sakura pressed, voicing aloud the exact question Inner had just posed.
Itachi stayed rooted to his spot with no indication of moving anytime soon.
'Is this boy deaf or does he just not understand how questions work?' Inner's ears fumed at Itachi's reluctance to answer Sakura's simple questions.
At Inner's incensed retort, Sakura fully crossed the threshold into his room.
The moment Sakura settled two feet firmly in his room, Itachi knew the rosette would not relent.
Over the past couple of years, Sakura's mind and body were not the only ones to have undergone a transformation because of her ninja training.
Amid such headstrong and driven classmates, namely Sasuke and Naruto, Sakura had quickly understood the old adage of 'adapt or perish'. Through long hours of training with her two boys, and even longer hours of independent study, Sakura was getting a crash course on holding her ground.
Hesitation had stirred up a pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge uncovered the roots of doubt. In Sakura, uprooted doubt had yielded a steadfastness that had once been hidden, diluted, and overpowered by her own thoughts. Her fears, worries, and apprehensions were slowly but surely being replaced by sharp observation, focused interest, and anticipation of her fellow classmates' needs.
For Itachi, the biggest difference in the rosette had been the shedding of her more timid persona. He could still sense the hesitation behind her words and actions. Now, however, the hesitation occurred solely between moves, between sentences. Long gone where the timid steps she used to enter his room with, or the nervous pauses in speech when she asked Itachi to train her. Now, once she made up her mind on what course of action to take, or what words needed to be uttered, she followed through.
His greatest proof, and most frequent reminder, of the rosette's ongoing transformation was in the blazing glint of her viridian eyes.
The sharp gleam that Itachi observed in his rose-haired friend's eyes when she zeroed in on his location during their hide-and-chakra-seek game, was the same one twinkling in her curious orbs now.
Her feet were slightly closer than shoulders width apart, hands clasped behind her back, chin lifted in challenge but softened by the slight tilt of her head. Her current stance was the same one Sakura slipped into when persuading Itachi to show them a new training exercise "Just once more, Itachi!".
Just like all those other times before, Itachi couldn't find it in himself to deny her.
"It's a hair tie," Itachi finally relented, gaze locked with the curious rosette's.
"Why are you throwing away a hair tie?" Sakura hoped her tone held enough genuine curiosity to cloak Inner's exasperation.
"Because it snapped this morning."
"Why didn't you throw it, then?" Sakura asked, tilting her head in genuine confusion.
Itachi's right lip corner stretched a half centimeter closer to a smile at the exact question he had been asking himself for the past two days being voiced aloud.
"That's what I was trying to do."
' 'Try'?,' Inner highlighted, skepticism dripping in her tone, 'Sakura, some things you try and some things you just do.'
Sakura's gaze flickered from Itachi's obsidian eyes to his right hand pocket, where he'd stuffed the contents of his hand, and back to his eyes. She was trying to understand, she really was. But this didn't make any sense. And anything Itachi ever did always made sense. "So you put it in your pocket instead?"
The rosette's eyes narrowed at Itachi's abnormal reluctance to answer her questions over a simple hair tie. A finger and thumb rose to pinch her chin gently in contemplation.
'Was this his favorite hair tie or something?' Inner piped up. 'Or maybe it was the last one he had and he can't afford to buy any more because he's a shop-a-holic like in that book Ino told you -'
'Itachi is NOT a shop-a-holic. He barely even has anything in his room.'
'EXACTLY,' Inner insisted.
'Inner, please. Mikoto-chan has a whole stash of them in her room. He has other hair ties.'
'Fine,' Inner huffed, not quite dismissing the thought of Itachi having a secret stash of valuable goods stuffed under his bed. 'Then maybe a fangirl gave it to him,' Inner posed, turning green by the end of that sentence.
Unbeknownst to Sakura, her pout and gentle shake of her head manifested outwardly. Itachi tilted his head to the side a fraction of an inch in question as the rosette tried to shake off the thought of Itachi growing possessive over a hair tie a fangirl had given him.
"Itachi, is it a 'lucky' hair tie?"
To Sakura's ears, the question came out lighthearted enough, but Itachi caught the flat undertones in her vowels that hinted at some other emotion laced in her question. Perhaps disbelief, Itachi considered, as Sakura's gaze briefly flickered somewhere over his shoulder.
Itachi fully intended to say no. He did not believe in such unfounded things. Such beliefs were illogical. There was no solid evidence of any benefit in believing such superstitions.
'Gut feelings' did not count as solid proof in Itachi's book.
Too bad for Itachi, because gut feelings were Sakura's forte.
'No' was what Itachi intended to say, but what came out of his mouth instead took him and Sakura by surprise.
"Perhaps."
'...' Inner's jaw dropping was the only reaction of bewilderment that belied the blank face and unmoving stance Sakura outwardly projected.
The rosette extended a soft, uncalloused hand out, palm face up. Understanding what Sakura wanted, but unsure of what her intentions were, Itachi remained unmoving.
Misunderstanding Itachi's hesitation, Sakura bit back the frown threatening to take over by biting her lower lip instead.
A breath. A pause.
The unwavering gaze from Sakura's viridian eyes could have been taken as a challenge, a reason to raise one's defenses. However, Sakura's sensitive sea-green eyes served to relay her openness, honestly, and sincerity. Her steady gaze reassured the Uchiha heir that if there was ever anyone he could trust with his insensible, emotional attachment to inanimate objects, it would be the very girl in front of him.
Deciphering emotions, and therefore understanding underlying motivations, was one of Sakura's fortes.
With a mental sigh of resignation, Itachi dug into his pocket to close around the useless hair tie that he should have gotten rid of days ago, and gently deposited his palm's contents into Sakura's smaller one.
As Itachi removed his hand from atop hers, Sakura's lips slightly parted in recognition.
'There's no way that's what we think it is.'
But the irrefutable proof was in the lone coral pink strand wound around and around, alongside Itachi's ebony strands, on one end of the split hair tie.
Itachi intently watched as Sakura's expression shifted from recognition, shock, and disbelief. Sakura's owlish gaze rose from the familiar red band she'd inherited from Ino, and which she had passed on to Itachi sometime before his last mission with his original genin team.
Even without the help of his Sharingan, Itachi knew the next few seconds would forever be etched in his memory.
Muscles around warm viridian orbs relaxed. Sakura's vision, however, was sharper than ever as she took in the sight of her beloved friend.
Viridian searched the depths of obsidian, while obsidian relished the warm embrace of understanding.
"It gave you the courage to face your fears," Itachi softly spoke, his right hand reaching up to affectionately tap Sakura's forehead, "and loaned me the strength to make it back home."
Sakura blinked away the warmth gathering in her lower lids before reaching out to tug Itachi's retreating hand and throwing it around her shoulders. Her limber arms unhurriedly rose to wrap around Itachi's midsection.
Itachi would have been shocked, if he hadn't already been used to Sakura's more affectionate demeanor towards him.
Sakura settled her left ear against his thudding heart beat and took a second to thank Kami for all the times Itachi had been brought back home safe and sound.
Itachi managed to settle his chin atop Sakura's head for a brief second before the rosette suddenly released him and scampered off with a rushed, "Wait here!"
Sakura returned a few moments later, scissors in one hand and the red ribbon previously holding back her coral fringe in the other.
"Kaa-san got me this red elastic ribbon last week," Sakura began, "If we cut this up into three or four pieces and tie each piece at the ends…"
At Sakura's hopeful gaze, Itachi reached out to do just as she'd planned, and closing the loop with a side knot. His long mane silkily slipped through the first then second loop of the makeshift hair tie without a snag.
"This is acceptable."
'He looks so… still.'
'Hmm,' Inner mused thoughtfully. 'Angelic, precious, or even beautiful would be more fitting.'
"I don't like it." Sakura mutters aloud, ignoring Inner's attempts at lightening the mood.
Sakura takes a couple tentative steps towards Itachi's bed, careful to keep her footfalls as silent as possible so as to not disturb his much needed rest.
The rosette pauses at the foot of his bed, taking in Itachi's soft, even breaths and willing her body to match them.
From the doorframe, Itachi looked pristine, peaceful, picture perfect. But up close, it was hard to miss the weariness so glaringly etched onto his face. The oh-so-subtle downward turn of the corner of his lips, the light purple tones under his eyes, and the oh-so-permanent stress lines originating from the inner corner of his eyes.
Suddenly, Sakura feels the familiar sting of tears. This has to be the first time Sakura has ever seen Itachi in the hospital as a patient himself. Before her hot tears can gain any momentum, she takes a deep breath and moves along the side of Itachi's hospital bed, coming to stand on his left side.
She meant to bring his left arm over the hospital sheets so she could hold his hand and offer him some sort of comfort in his sleep. However, the result of her actions had Sakura choking back a sob.
The faint purple blotching of two day old bruises, countless scratches deep enough to draw blood but too shallow to scar, dominated the rosette's vision for some shallow and strained breaths.
Inner cracked her knuckles, her mood darkening by the second. 'They hurt Itachi.'
It shouldn't have been a surprise to Sakura. Hospitals were for the sick, the hurt, and the healing. Itachi being here clearly meant he had been injured.
But it was one thing to be told a loved one was hurt and another thing entirely to see the damage dealt to your precious people up close and personal.
Sakura thanked her lucky stars that Itachi's bed was lower than most others she'd seen down the halls as she'd made her way to the Uchiha's room.
With some effort on her part, and much encouragement from Inner, Sakura manages to scoot one of the chairs in Itachi's room closer to his bed. Having settled into a comfortable position and angle, Sakura takes a deep breath before getting to work.
The rosette started off by tracing the palmar creases of Itachi's left hand. It had been a while since Sakura had the chance to do this little activity. With Itachi's mission schedule, and the Academy's long hours, it had been difficult to spend as much time with Itachi as before. She knew, however, that this particular habit they'd developed after Itachi's return from a mission was something the Uchiha heir found comforting.
She'd caught him lightly dozing after her ministrations one too many times to not have come up with that conclusion.
Today, however, Sakura was aware that her actions served to comfort her own nerves as well.
The rosette tried to ignore the purple hues deepening along Itachi's limb, and instead focus on the new calluses formed at the base of his fingers.
Sensing the distress brewing in Sakura's mind, Inner reminded her, 'You don't have to do this.'
'If I ever want to stand beside him, then I have to learn how to be okay with seeing Itachi hurt. I will only be able to help him if I'm close enough to see his bruises, his cuts, his pain. And I won't be able to see anything if I have tears in my own eyes.
'I have to do this, Inner. Please, help me.'
Sakura lightly traces over the borders of purple discoloration seeming to wrap all the way around Itachi's left wrist. The rosette turns over Itachi's hand, placing it gently back on the sheets, knuckles side up.
At the sight of even more discoloration along his forearm, and the broken skin along the peaks of his knuckles, Sakura bites down on her lower lip.
The metallic taste of blood in her mouth serves to refocus Sakura.
The rosette gingerly settles the palm of left hand over the back of Itachi's graceful digits, her fingertips hovering just over Itachi's previously bloodied knuckles.
'Pretend this is just another leaf chakra control exercise.'
Sakura's right hand hovered over her chest in a single handed version of the ram sign to help her concentrate.
A familiar warmth stirred in Sakura's midsection. Sakura imagined a light tendril of chakra extending from the coiled sphere of chakra in her belly. Keeping origin and destination firmly in mind, the rosette guided her chakra up, round, and down along the path of least resistance to her left hand.
'Crow feathers to your fingertips.' Inner reminded her, hoping to draw from Itachi's latest twist to their chakra control exercises.
Sakura took a deep breath in, building up the warm chakra in her left palm. At the exhale, the rosette nudged her chakra evenly down her fingers.
'Strong enough to hold in place. Light enough to not burn the thin edges.'
It was barely anything, a thin sheet of chakra barely coming to cover the pads of her fingertips.
'Inhale'
Inner coached as the rosette gathers the warmth of the chakra at her fingertips and pulls it inward, back to her core. Her chakra flickers for a brief second as electric blue bleeds into baby blue hues.
'Exhale.'
With her breath, Sakura expels the warmth gathered in her chest. Baby blue chakra blurs into a cool aquamarine. The rosette keeps this cycle of chakra, inhale, warmth and exhale that is getting easier to maintain with each session.
Granted, practicing in the privacy of her room without concern for anyone's safety but her own was one thing. Sakura had been less averse to falls and minor scratches in the past few months, and sometimes sought them out by rounding corners a little too sharply.
As she'd started refining her chakra control, Sakura had taken the liberty to attempt replicating the flow of chakra she'd critically observed in Naruto whenever her blonde best friend was hurt. Noting the inconsistent hues and heat that rose up to lick away any and all injuries on Naruto did nothing to prevent the stinging burn from her first few attempts at clearing away minor scratches on her person.
Through countless hours pouring over chakra tomes, regular chakra control exercises with her boys, and exhausting trial and error sessions attempting to solely heal and not hurt, Sakura had settled into a flow that made fixing wounds less and less painful.
Trying out this exercise on someone else, however, was not something Sakura had attempted before. She would have preferred not to take on such a huge task so soon, for she didn't know just how big her chakra reserves were just yet.
However, Sakura was compelled to do something for her friend lying so still on the hospital bed.
She knew Itachi was strong.
Anyone worth their metallic headband knew that.
The Academy students were often motivated to continue working hard by the monthly training spars between jounins and chunins, and even one spar that featured a pair of ANBU shinobi. Despite Itachi only being a Chunin, his spars were always the most exhilarating, and always drew in the biggest crowds from ninja of all ranks.
For him to be in this state spoke volumes of challenges Itachi must've faced on his latest mission. The hushed tones and secretive glances from her and Itachi's parents only allowed Sakura to learn that the circumstances surrounding Itachi's battle were still not one hundred percent clear.
Inner reminded Sakura that the information would come with time, but the here and now was where she needed to be. Especially if Sakura was hoping to do something about those vicious bruises marring Itachi's fair skin she was itching to get rid of.
Chakra coated fingertips lightly settled over bruised knuckles.
'I'm just here to help the healing along,' Sakura willed her chakra and Itachi's eagerly receptive one to understand.
'Breathe, Sakura.'
A light sheen formed on Sakura's forehead before she caught on to the flow of various healing processes on Itachi's skin. Like a gutter serving to guide excess water to a more ideal location, the natural cell regeneration and damage control processes guided Sakura's chakra to where it was needed most.
Sakura lost track of time, and only had the inclination to consider the time of day when the broken skin over Itachi's second knuckle started to come together into a slightly puckered line of new skin.
Inner tucked away the excitement for later enjoyment so that Sakura could continue to focus on the task at hand.
Sakura missed the gradual increase in her heart rate, followed by her breathing rate, as she forged on ahead. Inner had grown silent some time ago, in what Sakura assumed was to aid in her concentration.
She continued on in this hyper-focused state until she was two thirds of the way up Itachi's forearm, having cleared up all skin bruising and cuts along the way.
The aquamarine hue under her fingertips flickered for a few seconds, finally snapping Sakura out of her spell.
At that point, all Sakura could do was withdraw the chakra flowing into Itachi, before her head slowly slumped to rest alongside Itachi's arm.
Sakura was out before her head hit the sheets.
A/N: ... I definitely jinxed myself on my last update. So sorry for the delay! Life throws curveballs at you even during a pandemic :p But upwards and onwards, yea?
Thanks so much everyone for taking the time to read this fanfic. There are so many amazing stories out there, and that people actually want to read the stuff that pops out of my brain is kind of wild. Extra thanks to those who have favorited and followed, and a SUPER DUPER HUGE thanks to peeps dropping reviews.
(No pressure to fav/follow/review. I'm not trying to rack 'em up counts' sake. It's just super cute to get notifications of them when you least expect them, and I'm always grateful for them!)
Stay safe and warm (or cool) out there!