They went to nearly painstaking efforts to ensure that I was never alone.

I was alone with Deidara, then Kisame, then Itachi. Then Deidara, then Kisame, then Itachi. Rinse and repeat ad nauseam.

Okay, maybe not ad nauseam, but still.

I lay beside Itachi, my head on his shoulder, one hand buried in his silky, soft hair, the other gently stroking his breast bone. I'd woken up like this- naked and alone, curled into Itachi- the other two gone. It was nearly noon now, the sun shining hard on the closed curtains, making them glow a faint yellow, casting it gently onto the rest of the room.

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we had gotten married?" I asked gently.

Itachi looked over at me, silent for a moment. "Sometimes," he admitted softly.

"It seems so surreal to me," I said. "Like it was a dozen lifetimes ago."

"Yes, it does," Itachi agreed, his voice cool and impassive.

I let my eyes drift shut, remembering.

It was my tenth birthday, and my parents- well, my mother in particular- had thrown me a giant party, inviting all of my classmates and, seemingly, the entirety of the Uchiha clan. It looked like a festival rather than merely some girl's birthday party; the streets surrounding the houses and business places of the Uchiha clan were lined with decorations, temporary vendors set up where you could buy all manner of food and drink, some toys, and special-made Uchiwa fans. Lanterns of many colors glittered against the early evening sky, a gradually darkening periwinkle blue, dotted with fat, lazy, white clouds.

I wore my favorite kimono- a pale pink decorated with sakura blossoms, pale pink around my middle and a deep fuschia at the hem. My obi was intricate- a pretty, dazzling bronze that stood out but complemented the kimono nicely. I knew nearly everyone here- knew nearly everyone in the clan, knew my classmates- but I was not particularly close with any of them.

My best friend was sick, and could not attend; she'd promised she'd celebrate with me another time, and we'd go all out. I was just worried about her.

I stood apart from the wandering crowds, watching them. I spotted a bench and hurried towards it, sitting down, a skewer with five dango on it in my hand. Quietly, I took a small bite, still watching the party goers as they walked.

I noticed, then, that Itachi-san was approaching. I straightened immediately, watching him shyly.

Every girl in our year had a crush on him, including my best friend. I admitted, to myself and myself alone, that I certainly saw the appeal. He was tall, with broad-set shoulders and a lithe, muscular frame. He had just made chunin, a full year before the rest of us even graduated.

As if he could feel me looking at him, his eyes turned towards me. I blinked, knowing better than to look away; he had already caught me, and it was quite obvious. Instead, I gave him a polite wave, one that he returned. His little brother, Sasuke- four years old, still a tyke- looked up at his brother, then curiously over at me.

I smiled and waved to him, too. He got a silly grin and hid behind his brother's arm, clutching it tightly. I got a small smile; Itachi looked away from me to glance down at his brother, say something that I couldn't quite make out. I wasn't very well going to activate my sharingan just to snoop on what some boy said to his brother.

'Some boy'.

I knew very well that my mother and father had invited over his several times in the past few months. I'd begun snooping, hearing them talking about me and Itachi, the 'potential' of our 'joined lines'. I knew very well that I was intended to marry this boy.

I, as of yet, did not know how to feel. Itachi Uchiha, the pride of the Uchiha clan, one of the strongest ninja to come out of the Leaf Village- one of the strongest ninja. There were many more powerful than him yet, but he was only ten; by the time he was fully grown, who knew how powerful he'd be? Experience would only aid him, of course.

And I was a powerful kunoichi. I'd been offered by my instructor the opportunity to graduate early; I had politely declined, preferring not only to graduate with my peers- my best friend especially, not entirely removed from the fact that I wished we'd be assigned to the same squad- but also to finish the final years of my childhood in peace.

Fighting, and one day dying, for my village and my clan was the life I had chosen for myself- one day. I was not ready yet, not inside, and I knew that all too well.

I supposed it would be only natural for the two strongest Uchiha of our generation to be put together. I supposed it only made sense. For decades now, the Uchiha clan had been large enough that most of us were not related; 'pureblood' Uchiha were favored over those with a parent who was not an Uchiha. I supposed it only made sense.

And yet… We were ten, barely. His birthday was in June, mine in July- barely ten, indeed. I could do with another good decade before having to think about marriage.

"Hello!" greeted Itachi's mother; I looked up to see the four of them approaching. I stood and greeted them.

"Hello," I said.

"Happy birthday," Itachi said, and the others echoed. I thanked them.

Sasuke was fussing about something; his words were too garbled, too poured together, for me to make any sense of it; his mother, however, sighed, picking him up into his arms. His father looked over at his wife, then glanced at Itachi before smiling politely at me.

"Forgive us," he said. "It was nice to see you. It's a lovely party- happy birthday, again."

"Thank you," I said as he, his wife, and his youngest son disappeared into the crowd.

Itachi and I looked at one another quietly. From his eyes- his expression- I knew that he, too, knew what was expected of us. We shared a silent look for a moment before Itachi sat down beside me, looking out at the crowd.

We did not speak. But, after a few minutes, I leaned subtly towards him. His presence was strangely comforting, his silence oddly pleasant. He looked over at me, then. I offered him the final two dango, not realizing until after he blinked in surprise that it was, perhaps, an odd thing to do.

He took it regardless and took a small bite, looking out at the people again.

After he was done eating, his mother returned and made brief small talk with me before whisking Itachi away, saying that Sasuke and Fugaku were already on their way home. I sat there in silence for a long time- until the streets slowly cleared of people and the vendors slowly dispersed.

It was the day before the Uchiha Tragedy, but of course, I did not know it yet.

Relations between the clan and the village were quickly declining. I had made it clear to both my parents and the Hokage that I firmly supported them both; in a war, as I feared it may come to, I would not fight my clan, but I would leave it for Konoha.

My parents made the engagement to Itachi official, then, a clear attempt to tether me to the clan.

I was a chunin already, at thirteen. Certainly not unheard of, but my family had been impressed nonetheless. I was, admittedly, proud of myself, though I knew there were much more impressive things to be.

All in good time.

Itachi was an ANBU captain; certainly, he was more ambitious than I was. I'd overheard my mother talking to his about that being a good thing; it indicated that I would likely be willing to settle down and raise a family when the time came.

I did not like the implication- that women were good for but one thing. But I supposed that was the life that my mother, as well as his, had chosen. I supposed I couldn't blame them too much.

I sat just inside the gates of Konoha; my squad was leaving for a mission this afternoon- an urgent one, apparently. I was rather cross about it; fearing the worst, I'd been training with other members of the clan as much as possible, to learn about the skills of our clan before it was, possibly, too late.

"Kaori-chan," I greeted as she appeared- my best friend, my squadmate. It was very rare for two kunoichi to be on one team, but there had been more kunoichi in my year than usual. She smiled at me, sitting down cross-legged in front of me.

Kaori Uzumaki- one of the few remaining Uzumaki there was in the world. One of only two in the entirety of Konohagakure.

"Hello, senpai," she cooed happily. "How are you?"

We chatted for a while.

I had to tell her. She'd had a crush on Itachi for years; it was nothing serious, I knew, and she had crushes on other boys… But now that the engagement was official, it felt like I was lying to her if I didn't tell her.

However, our other teammate and our sensei arrived shortly thereafter, and we departed.

When I returned very late the next evening, I made my way home.

The streets were deadly silent. Bodies littered the streets. The rest of Konoha had been peaceful, acting as if nothing had happened. The people did not know.

It was impossible. No one could have done this- no one at all. They were killed where they stood, as if a good portion of them weren't skilled, nearly unparalleled Shinobi.

I stopped wandering and headed straight for home, full of dread and fear.

Father was dead on the lawn. I stopped when I saw it, looking down at.

Dread. Grief. Fear. Pain.

I hurried inside.

Mother was dead, slumped over the table.

Grief. Loss. Terror. Panic.

I walked into my little brother's nursery. My older sister was dead on the floor.

Grief. Anger. Aching. Agony.

My little brother- not even two yet- was not in his crib.

The closet door was open.

I looked inside. There he was, silent, still.

Horror. Grief.

I fell to my knees, staring at him for a long, long moment.

Fury- rage. Grief.

Horror.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at his small body laying there. "No," I whimpered, as if begging the universe for it to not be true. I wept, curling up in the back of the closet, hiding myself as I shook and sobbed and scratched open my knees until they bled.

Fury. Pain. Loss.

It was a long time before I had finally composed myself- or, at least, it felt like it was. I stood and hurried back towards the rest of Konoha to report what had happened.

Eventually, weeks after the Tragedy, the Third Hokage told me about what had happened- Itachi had killed them to prevent the revolution and left Konoha.

And then I had heard he had joined the Akatsuki, several years later.

I understood what he had done.

But, as I looked down at the still-fresh graves of my parents and my siblings…

I knew I could never forgive him. Not ever- especially if he had truly betrayed the village by joining the Akatsuki.

My Mangekyou Sharingan activated not long after.

"What are you thinking about?" Itachi wondered aloud.

I stared at his chest. "The Tragedy," I said simply.

He looked away, eyes closing.

"I know why you did it," I said softly. He looked over at me impassively. "The Third Hokage told me."

Itachi inhaled slowly, then looked up at the ceiling. "I cannot let you leave," he said softly.

I said nothing for a long moment. "My brother was a child- a baby," I said quietly.

He seemingly winced, closed his eyes again. "I know."

I looked away again, unsure how to feel.

After a moment, I began to wonder what it could have been like if the Tragedy had not happened- if the revolution was prevented some other way.

The streets were silent now, the crowds of people having dispersed. Fifteen years old, and I was married- the youngest age legal, even with parental consent.

Itachi, my husband, was in the shower. I sat on the bed, changed into a nightgown already. I felt nauseous from the uncertainty, the pervasive, tentative fear. I looked down at the blanket on my lap, stroking it softly.

Our first night together, our first night in this new and unfamiliar house.

Itachi walked out in his pajamas, his half-damp hair lying neatly behind his back. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Yes, please," I said softly. He walked out of the bedroom, returning shortly thereafter with two glasses of water, handing one to me. "Thank you."

He sat down as I took a drink and set the glass on my nightstand, then lay down. Itachi remained upright, staring at the wall. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he said gently.

I looked up at the ceiling.

Over the past two years- the years since our engagement was official- we had steadily grown closer. I loved him- truly, I did.

It was not that I wasn't ready. Young as I was- early as it was- I had spent the last two years becoming ready, knowing what it was that I was meant to do. Putting it off would do me no good; I would likely just grow ever more anxious about it.

"Do you want to wait?" I asked softly. He turned towards me, then gently urged me upright again; he took my hands in his gently, looking into my eyes.

"I don't mind waiting," he said softly, rubbing his thumbs gently into the backs of my hands.

"That's not what I asked," I said.

He smiled then, looking down. After a moment, he looked up at me with that expression he saved for me and me alone. "I love you," he said softly. "And as soon as you are ready, and not a moment sooner, I will take you."

I flushed and moved closer, placing a hand on his smooth, soft cheek, kissing him sweetly.

There, in the quiet walls of our new home, my gentle and kind husband made love to me.

I kissed Itachi's chest softly, thoughtlessly.

Life was odd and unpredictable. Horrible things happened all the time. People- Shinobi especially- did horrible horrible things, forced into it one way or another, to protect someone or something.

My father was a jounin when he died. An old, world-weary man who trusted nothing and no one. My mother had been a ninja, too, once. They never spoke about it with me, but I knew the sort of things they had done- my father worse than my mother, certainly. Mother was barely a chunin when she retired, having become pregnant.

I was a jounin. I had killed many, many people- good people with good goals that simply conflicted with mine, bad people with vile goals. I had killed children before- ninja who were young. Not so young as Itachi had, but certainly too young to die.

I looked up at Itachi's beautiful face, at once impassive and relaxed. He had taken no pleasure in what he had done; it pained him, ate at him, to this very day.

What does it mean to forgive? It would not mean I would stop missing my family, yearning for a life in which I could have known them and grown with them, watching my siblings prosper into adulthood alongside me. It would not mean that I did not wish what had happened could have been avoided.

Maybe it simply meant that I was at peace with the fact that it had- but how does one become at peace with loss, with grief? I had accepted it, at least. I had moved on with my life, carrying a piece of every Uchiha with me in my heart.

Perhaps I had already forgiven Itachi, then. It would certainly seem so, from the way that I was content to lay in his arms.

What is forgiveness, really?