Line 16: Lilies Part I

"remember so(forgetting to seem)"

-'In times of Daffodils'

Line 3, Stanza 2

-E.E Cummings

I don't want to intrude, but…

Sakura scans the living room for some excuse to inconspicuously enter Itachi's space. Her task of clearing the kitchen only took an hour or so. It might have taken even less time if she had not found excuses to go to Itachi's side. Asking about things she could have figured out herself. Asking about food. Asking about water or if he wanted a break. Anything to make sure he knows he's not alone. Although her partner entertained all of her silly inquiries, that haunting look never quite went away. But she tries anyway because it seems like the right thing to do.

Now, she's out of questions and reasons to bother him. The kitchen is decluttered, packed, and cleaned. Itachi told her to take a break and eat the curry buns he bought for them. But Sakura finds the thought of eating alone in this house somewhat unsettling. She does try. Opening the package of takeout and laying out both of their shares. She stares uncertain at them, unable to shake the notion that something is wrong. The sound of Itachi moving around in the living room filters through the otherwise silent kitchen. Sakura lingers near the counter, thoughts drifting back to the man who seems to want space but probably shouldn't be left to his own devices for too long.

So, she stands in the doorway, watching, trying to come up with a reason for him to come to the kitchen. Or for her to go into the living room.

Itachi's adding the last items to a small box perched on an end table. As the evening turns to night, the low yellow light of the living room lamps highlights the cozy, homey atmosphere it probably had. The engawa doors remain open, carrying the scent of night and spring flowers in the air that occasionally blows through. In contrast, the slightly musky, weathered, and dusty scent of a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Watching Itachi pack away pieces of what this place once was without so much as a word only adds to the contrast.

The promise of spring. The scent of dead memories.

She spots the packing tape on the floor. Taking advantage of the opening, Sakura grabs it and silently crosses the room once Itachi closes the box. Without a word, she takes the end of the folded top, presses the two halves together to make taping it shut much easier.

"Thank you," Itachi's words are too soft and too surprised for her liking. Sakura forces tape on the side of the box to keep herself from making a face. "Did you eat already?"

"Nope!" Her cheery tone attempts to compensate for both of them. "Set the food out though."

With a loud ripe, the tape pulls from the roll. Sakura drags it all the way across, slowly stepping around the box and easing Itachi away from the stuff.

She purposely lays it crooked.

"Shoot!" huffing in mock frustration. Sakura turns to Itachi with a forced smile and eye crinkle that mimics her former sense. "The food is kind of cold. Could you warm it for us while I fix this?"

She turns away, hoping he'll take the bait and take a break. Sakura lifts the tape again, forces the halves together, and proceeds to lay the tape down as slow as possible until her partner finally heads towards the kitchen. She glances at his back, relieved.

"What should I label this?" She calls out to him.

"Photos."

Sakura pulls back from the box, realizing why it takes him so long to walk away. I can't imagine how hard this must be for him.

She follows him to the kitchen, pausing near the door seal. Itachi's already started warming the food. Focused on his task, he never turns his gaze in her direction or greets her approach. Always with a straight face.

His brief display of distress earlier that day had been just that, brief. One minute he was holding onto her. The next minute he let go, apologizing for his action before resuming their work. Sakura waited for the moment he'd reach for her again. Itachi kept his distance.

"Did you finish the box?" he turns with plates of food in his hands, heading towards the table.

Sakura meets him there, pulling out a chair as her food is served first. "Yeah, I did. Are you…are you going to take that box with you or leave it for the movers to store away?"

"I haven't decided." Itachi admits, "There are several photos in there I would like to keep. I didn't properly sort them when packing."

It's the most talkative he's been all night. Sakura wants to pick his brain and get him to open up at least a little.

"Which do you want to keep?" she tries to make it sound casual and nonchalant, not like she's fishing.

Itachi keeps his eyes on his food, fanning the curry bun to cool it down. "There's one of us after Sasuke was born. The picture of my parents on their wedding day. Pictures of Sasuke and me getting our first kunai."

For a second, she thinks she sees him smile. A small flicker of a curve of his lips that could very well be a trick of the dim overhead lighting. But Sakura holds hope that perhaps he's remembered something pleasant.

"How old were you when you got your first kunai?"

Itachi reaches for tea. "I was three. Sasuke was the same. He tried to eat it, thinking it was chocolate. Tousan acted quickly. Okasan thought it was funny."

Sakura smiles at the picture it makes. Knowing her friend never liked sweets only makes it funnier. Perhaps his aversion started when mistaking metal for chocolate.

"Sounds like a good picture to keep," she concludes.

After a moment, Itachi nods slowly. The outline of a smile fades, face settling into the same blank mask from moments ago. He takes a bite of food and gazes at something she will probably never see. Sighing to herself, Sakura picks up her curry bun and eats in silence with him.

That night Itachi lights the irori, and they sleep on futons in the living room. Sakura keeps watching for any sign of distress. In the darkness, it is hard to see anything but white sheets and Itachi's outline under them. Her partner keeps his thoughts and feelings close, which is significant enough that he is not okay. Itachi is quiet but never this quiet. She knows the difference between his default and thinking. What Itachi thinks she can only guess. Although the situation is not ideal, she silently prays that those thoughts are not of the negative intrusive sort.

Sakura watches him until her fluttering eyes feel too heavy to keep open. She drifts in and out of sleeping, jerking awake at random intervals to check on him.

Sakura is barely conscious when a scratching sound pulls her from sleep once again. Sakura blinks in the darkness then lifts her head to locate the source. She turns, attempting to lay on her back, then rolls right into Itachi. Surprised, Sakura jerks back, flipping on her stomach and turning her head instead to assess the situation.

Itachi's futon is a lot closer than she remembers. He is on his back, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes pan upward, trying to find what holds his attention and make him move closer. There is nothing there that she can see. That does not mean it is the same for him. The hollow grip of grief pulls at her chest. A distant but familiar sensation that comes in passing for her; but may well be resting on Itachi's consciousness even as they lay there.

Without thinking, she reaches across their new sleeping arrangement and pulls on his comforter.

"Have you slept at all?" Sakura quietly inquires.

Slowly, Itachi shakes his head. "Very little."

I figured. Sakura's frown mixes disappointment with compassion.

"Do you need anything? Something to help you sleep? If you want to sleep."

Despite the lack of light, she sees when his brows draw together; and his lips turn down. Her partner takes a deep breath. Sakura holds her breath, hoping he will give just a little.

Itachi hums and mutters. "Perhaps."

Sakura is already on her elbows, ready. "What is it? Do you need me to do something? I can listen if you want to talk. Or just be here, if you need that too."

Time stands still for her while Itachi contemplates his answer. She watches his everything, catching when his fingers curl over the sheets, the subtle change in breathing, and increasing depth of his frown. She wants nothing more than to jump inside his head and stop whatever is happening there. If it is anything like her restless nights with visions of Sasuke falling to the ground with blood gushing from his mouth, then it is too vivid and too fresh and too tragic.

Her partner turns on his side, dark hair falling loosely over his shoulder as he faces her.

"You've done enough by just being here," he finally says.

She hears what he says but can not shake the hollow sensation that follows, as if something is missing. As if there is more. She stares at him, wrestling with whether it is her imagination or if Itachi truly holds back with her. Or if she even has the right to be bothered by the concept.

Be fair, Sakura. She warns herself, nodding at his request then settling back down on her futon. Tucking her hands under her pillow, she lays her head down, eyeing Itachi's downcast gaze. She tries her best at just being per his request. Curiosity gets the better of her.

"What was on the ceiling?" Sakura whispers.

Itachi answers her just as quietly. "Shadows."

Green eyes glanced up again, seeing nothing, then back down. "Are they still there?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Sakura mulls over this information, wondering about ghosts, thinking of solutions. If the shadows have not left, then perhaps Itachi can escape them for a moment. She grabs the ends of her comforter, pulls it up over her head then across, draping most of it over Itachi as well.

Itachi tense, eyeing her curiously but stiffly from his futon. "What is this for?"

She grins triumphantly.

"Protection. One hundred percent foolproof shadow deterrent. The tried and true method, fully endorsed by me."

Dark eyes give attention to the comforter covering both of their faces. "Thank you."

Sakura settles down on her pillow once more. "Can you still see them?"

Itachi shakes his head. "Not physically but the shadows are memories. I know what they are even if I can't see them."

"Maybe it'll help if you talk them out?"

Sakura does not think he will. But Itachi surprises her.

"The living room was okasan's favorite place in the house," he starts.

Sakura gives Itachi her full attention, drifting along with the cadence of his voice that deepens with sleepiness. She listens until he talks himself to sleep.

The following morning Sakura puts herself on breakfast duty, trying to keep the family kitchen tidy and Itachi underworked. She opts for toast and eggs that require little work and minimal utensils.

"I have a meeting with Tsunade-sama," Itachi informs her at the dining table.

Sakura turns away from the stove, surprised that her Shishou wants to see him already. "Was this something pre-scheduled?"

"She wanted to meet again though she never set an exact date. The missive came this morning while you were sleeping."

"This is a continuation from her last meeting?"

"Yes."

I guess she's trying to keep up appearances. If their meetings suddenly stopped then maybe Itachi might suspect something is amiss.

Attempting to brush it off, she turns back to the skillet. "What time?"

"Noon. At home," Itachi supplies. "We should be able to finish the living room by then."

Sakura nods and serves him his food.

Itachi does not lie to Sakura, but he does leave two hours earlier than necessary. It is a task to orchestrate his plan for several practical and impractical reasons. His partner is always there, both physically and mentally. Sakura tries to stay near him. He is not against the idea, which is a part of the reason he knows he needs space.

Itachi waits until she is in the bathroom to depart in silence, venturing to the place she does not know exists with seconds to spare. Physically far and therefore able to move freely, the mental factor is only minutely affected. Itachi can still discern her temperament, which is not agreeable at the moment. But it is better. It offers him the opportunity to let his weight sink on bent knees in damp grass before the rugged waterfall that carried Shisui to some unknown place. Blustery mist strokes his face, Itachi tunes out the world and drives the murmur of Sakura's chakra to the far distances of his mind.

He deeply inhales harsh damp air that seers deep into his bones and lungs. It pricks and spreads his senses. It propels Itachi beyond his introspections long enough to ease the chains of the past that shackle his wrists and ankles, and throat.

Itachi does it again, tilting his face up to the elements, hair snagging water droplets on the wind. As it blows back his bangs, he touches some pretense of clarity for the first time in two days.

I can't go back there. Not now. Not why I feel this lost.

The words are foreign but true and slice harsher than the residuals of the waterfall. Itachi shivers from the frigid air and reality.

I shouldn't have told her anything, Itachi laments. Now I can't rationalize why my actions were necessary. They were necessary. I'd always believed…but I am lost.

He is not just lost. He has loss and carries it with him to some bottomless place in his soul. Itachi would have assumed such a thing was impossible two days earlier. For many years before and after his death, Itachi told himself he was fine. His determination was sure. He regretted ways but not actions. He told him these things because he accepted them to be unconditionally true.

I am lost. I don't know anymore.

Because his mother is gone and his father is gone. And his house is so empty and so full. The emptiness inscribes a vacant cavity in his chest while the fullness threatens to crush him under his weight. He can not shut his eyes without seeing them. He can not open his eyes without shadows following.

Shadows. Despite himself, Itachi thinks of Sakura and the insistent tugging of her desires to be nearer, to help him. Some aspect of this bond entreats him to respond, yearning to return. To go back to her. To stay. To hide.

He grits his teeth and curls his knuckles, defying and resisting because it is all too much. It would be too effortless to give in, to plunge into whatever waiting embrace Sakura offers. Itachi can. He wants to but does not know if these wants are his own or the temptations of an incomplete jutsu. What he does know is that being in his childhood home punctures old wounds he thought were sutured and healed.

They are not.

Every passing second tears the thread apart one by one. Itachi catches flashes and sensations for a night in his past life. Blood on the walls, in the halls, and blood on the floor. No matter how many times he closes his eyes, he opens them to the reality that death transpired here. A death that still torments even after dying and resurrecting. A death that appeared critical then but debatable now. The sentiment is as visceral as it was when he shoved that sword through his mother's heart…

Itachi's chest constricts. He dry heaves, suffocating on cold air and thoughts and rememberings. It seethes. He clutches his collar, tugging and pitching forward, coughing with his face to the grass until blood comes up.

Itachi attempts to stop it by holding his breath. His eyes water. No! His harsh command to himself leaves him quivering. Itachi tumbles to his elbows, hair drifting over his shoulders with his nose planted in wet dirt. He digs nails into his collar, eyes still misty, battling himself in too many ways to keep up.

Itachi does not want to cough up blood. He does not want to cry. He does not want to stay. He does not want to leave. He does not want to remember or return to that house and see flashes of life he cherished but will never have again. He does not want to believe what could have been if only he had taken a second look. He does not want to doubt that he made the best choice. So he fights and clenches every muscle in his body and resists and ignores as he has always done.

Except it is so much harder to do when a way of escape is right there. Sakura is right there. Her presence catalyzes his current state. Should he drop to his knees before her, she would gather him in her arms without a second thought. Itachi could, but it would cost him his word. He promised her years ago that he had no reason to take advantage of her, to use her for anything. He didn't then.

Now it is different. Right now, Itachi buckles under the weight of his choices and the things he stole from those he loved and himself. Now, Itachi wavers because of misery so indescribable that he no longer finds satisfaction in his justifications. Now, Itachi contemplates if he and Sakura's mission had alternate paths, could his mission to stop the coup also have alternate routes. He considers these things because Sakura pushed so hard for a better solution. She insists on carrying out her mission in a different way. She insists on him being open with her. She insists and pushes until there is nowhere else for him to go but face the realities of what truly is.

Now, Itachi wishes for Shisui or Izumi or Sasuke or anyone from his past to take him. Now, Itachi digs his elbows in the earth and squeezes his eyes closed because it hurts.

He killed his parents.

He killed his parents in that house for the village that loved just as much. But Itachi killed his parents. And his brother and his extended family. He killed them because Konoha needed him to. Or asked him too. He had no choice. Or he wasn't presented with every option.

Itachi is lost because he does not expect to be this out of sorts. Because Sakura's warmth reminds him of what existed in life decades ago. He wants that back in every sense. He wants to keep it and never let it go. To say so, to desire such a thing, feels wrong because he gave up everything for the sake of Konoha. Should he try to get some false sense of it from Sakura, he would have lied to her. Because Sakura has no idea about this connection. She doesn't know what he sees and senses.

I can't. I can't breathe. It's true on almost every level. Itachi heaves then blood speckles the ground right under his lips. Help me. Shisui. Help me. Izumi, please. I am lost. And losing himself quicker than he can recover.

Itachi thrusts his fist into the dirt and forces himself up with trembling arms. I need to pull myself together and stop this. I have to…

Itachi attempts to force it down. Another cough leaves him rattled. He fights back against his mind, body, and lungs like they are on fire. The Uchiha grinds his teeth, clenches his fists, and resists until he feels lightheaded and sways.

"Stop!" The demand is harsh but gentle and sweet and hangs on orange blossom scents that bend over his shoulders in an embrace that keeps him from tumbling over. "Please, stop this!"

Izumi's presence is as startling as her request. Itachi teeters off-balance. Arms around his neck draw him back on his heels. Izumi lays her cheek against his. Itachi is not sure if the wetness he feels comes from the waterfall, the mist she resides in, or if the ghosts of Izumi can shed tears for him.

Or if they are from himself.

"Why do you keep doing this?" she insists, "What are you fighting so hard for, Itachi? You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop!"

Her question unnerves him for several reasons but one comes out of his mouth before the others. "You left."

"I had to!" Izumi defended, "You didn't need me anymore."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Because you have everything you need if you just take it."

"I have nothing!" Itachi raises his voice, curling in on himself. "I took it all from me. There is nothing left for me here."

Izumi squeezes tighter and whispers regretfully in his ear. "Don't say that like what happened to us was your fault or your punishment. If you would just allow yourself to..."

"To what?" Itachi cuts in, thinking perhaps his tone would shut her down. But Izumi was never dissuaded by him. She always knew and will always know the deep things that lie in his heart.

"Feel." Izumi asserts, "To say out loud that I wish my parents were still alive. Who would fault a child for wanting to be held by his mother again? No one!"

He taunts her. "That's not what this is."

She tightens her grip. "No one would fault you for saying you loved your Village too! You can miss and yearn for us and want to protect everyone else. There's no reason you have to choose."

Itachi shudders because she is wrong. Perhaps he is wrong, too. His wrongness stares him square in the face.

"I did choose. I had no choice but to choose one. They never gave me another option. The Clan. The Village. I had to choose, and my choices left me here."

"Your choices brought you back," Izumi corrects with the fiery tenacity he knows she has, "You are here. You can live! This isn't the same life you had before you died. You don't have to fight to survive alone anymore."

He hears her words but finds the hypocrisy of it ironic.

"You left," Itachi grievously points again.

Izumi tugs at his neck and repeats herself as well. "Because I had to."

"Then why are you here? Why did you come if you felt so strongly that leaving me was the best option?"

Izumi pivots her weight, then presses a gentle kiss to his temple, cupping his face in one hand with a touch so soft he barely feels it.

"I don't want you to be where I am before it's time for you to be. That's why. This is hard. I can see it written all over your face. Still, you know what you have to do to get over this, or you'll figure it out. I can't help you with this."

Itachi tries to turn, tries to see her face just this once. But as soon as he does, it all goes. The mist, The scent of orange blooms. The feel of her comforting embrace. Izumi is going. Her words ring in his ears. Itachi is alone.

Slowly he gets to his feet, watching the forest just before the waterfall where Izumi once was.

"I don't know," Itachi says to the wind, "I don't know. Izumi."

She doesn't respond, nor does she come back. Itachi scans the trees, trying to find what she insists is there, until he has to leave.

Because the solution he has does not feel as justifiable when seeing his mother smiling at him through pictures. A smile he will never see beyond that point. Itachi doesn't know, but he decides to pursue streams of thought.

Back at home, Itachi reaches for garden tools. Away from the Compound, he finds his garden harbors more peace than the one constructed for his mother. He is deep in the dirt when Tsunade comes. As she wanders around the back, Itachi automatically slips back into the role he held for years. When it comes to Konoha, there are no emotions or worries. There is now and what is necessary. Mere minutes ago, he was on his knees coughing up blood and yelling at the wind. When Tsunade notices him, Itachi settles his features and his feelings, standing to grab a chair for her to sit.

Once she is settled, Itachi tries to find what he lost and capture whatever Izumi is sure he has.

"Can I ask you something, Tsunade-sama?" Itachi asks, sitting on his heels to get a better view of the new layout of his garden.

"That's what we are here for," she replies.

Her words are his question. Itachi furrows his brows. "Why are we here?"

"Care to clarify, Uchiha?" Tsunade prompts him to continue.

How does he explain his internal crisis if he does not even know what it is?

"These meetings are to understand why I am seeing ghosts, correct?" Itachi states matter of factly. "What purpose do they serve? I am here. I am alive. What good does it do to continue discussing things that have little bearing on those two facts?"

Her brows slowly come together. Tsunade hums, leans her chin on her knuckles, then looks out at the horizon beyond him.

"Why didn't you give Sasuke a headstone like all the others? No one would have been the wiser."

"Why would I?" Itachi's answer is as mechanical as his movements. Surprised at his own quick response to the sudden change in topic, "He received the grave marker of a traitor, which is as it should be."

"Only a handful of people will ever see it though."

Itachi is not sure if she is indignant at his decision or his attitude behind it. He looks up, searching her face for something well hidden. Tsunade only stares down at him from her vantage in the chair on the porch. Waiting.

Itachi huffs then make plain his train of thought in choosing the thing he did.

"I've granted my brother a little mercy in giving him a stone at all. Sasuke's path chose his fate. If not for Naruto and Sakura, the only thing there would be a tree and a bench."

Tsunade tuts at him then questions him. "Small mercy with a traitor's burial huh? Interesting choice of words. That's the only way you see him?"

This time he frowns, annoyed, unsure if the former Hokage means to insult him. "He is my brother. I love him. That will not excuse the fact of his actions. This is what he deserved because of what he chose."

"Yes, he chose this in the last few moments of his life." Tsunade sighs, voice softening. "We teach you from the time you enter the Academy to make decisions independent of emotional reasoning. We teach you that loyalty to Konoha is above all. But it's possible to do all of these things and still be a victim of circumstance, Itachi."

Where is she coming from? Why is she bringing this up instead of answering my questions? Itachi makes a face, suddenly tense with the pulsing of a headache near his temples for the second time today. He turns his head to catch her eye. Tsunade gazes at the clouds.

"You believe Sasuke was such a victim?" he questions her.

Tsunade never moves, but he sees the crease in her brows. Does he feel guilt over his death as well? He heard the lengths she went to get him back. Several failed missions and a civil war later, perhaps Tsuande felt she failed his brother. Lord Third promised to care for him in Itachi's absence. After his death, that task went to the woman contemplating clouds on his back porch.

"In many ways, yes." This time Tsuande walks to the edge of the porch, arms crossed. "Although I'm curious as to why when I said that you didn't immediately think of yourself?"

He blinks back his disbelief. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

His headache presses closer. Itachi withholds a twitch. "Why would I consider myself?"

She shakes her head with a haughty huff. "You asked why we are meeting. What's the point if you are living and doing what needs to be done? The answer is because you are a shinobi and such a life is never simple. We can speculate all day about ethics. If we went down that road, then everything Konoha has done is up for debate. We train you to protect the village at all costs."

"And I did," Itachi tersely interjects.

"So did your brother." Tsunade retorts. "In his way. He betrayed Konoha only because Danzo betrayed us first. Danzo seized an opportunity, used you to steal from your clan because of his version of loyalty. Whose betrayal is most heinous here? Danzo? You? Sasuke? You can make the argument that all of you did the right thing and equally argue that you did the wrong thing. You tried to protect us. Sasuke tried to correct us. Was he wrong to blame the system? No. Because the system failed him the moment we allowed Danzo to give you orders."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, it is as if the thinnest string snaps. The headache surges forward with a high pitch but hollow ringing in Itachi's ear, closing the rest of the world off in its intensity. His heart rate jumps. Every muscle in his abdomen doubles down on itself with a sudden burst of raw, unfiltered anger. Itachi crosses one leg over the other, then laces his fingers in his lap, trying to stop and identify why he's so suddenly discomforted. He clenches his jaw, teeth grinding against teeth as he tries to think, to reason. To stop the tingling of the Sharingan behind his eyes from bursting through.

Why? He replays the words in his mind that hold more weight than he can currently carry. Why?

"Itachi," he hears her at a distance, staring blankly into space. "Itachi?"

Whose betrayal is most heinous here? Whose? I killed my family. I lost my brother. And for what? Why? Who?

Tsunade's tight grip on his arm startles him back from the brink of despair. Carefully she untwines his fingers, revealing the red half-moon shapes from his fingernails deeply indented in his palms.

"Do you want to stop for the day?" Tsunade quietly asks.

"No," he says immediately, removing his hands from her grip, remembering that he is not alone. "No. Not yet."

"Did you remember something?"

"Not entirely."

"Did something occur to you?"

"...not entirely." Turning his head, Itachi watches birds fly by until his emotions are in check enough to question everything. "Who decides what is morally right and morally wrong?"

Tsunade settles down on the ground as well, sitting adjacent to him. "I think it's a personal and corporate decision. There are societal norms that teach us how to interact within the system. Then there are personal convictions that guide us in our everyday dealings."

"Society constantly fluctuates. We constantly change and evolve as individuals. At what point do we establish a baseline?"

She huffs, crossing her arms in a way that reminds him of Sakura. "If you're asking me where morality starts, then I don't know. Maybe with simple human decency? You treat someone with respect because they are a person. Or at least that's the way the world should be."

Tsunade pauses, pursing her lips as she gathers her words. "The truth is that people are both good and bad. This world is shit because at the start of everything is our own survival. Konoha, the individual, and everything in between. We do what we need to do to stay alive and hopefully protect the humans we want around us in the process."

Humans we want around us. Is that what I did?

He takes a mental step back, seeing the consequences of his moral decision. The humans he cared for most in the world all lay dead. Did he protect them or Konoha?

I wanted to protect both.

When Sasuke presented his reasoning behind his choices, Itachi did not have much time to process. Instead, he tried to appeal to reason. Saying things like even if mistakes were made, it didn't justify dooming the entire Village. Sasuke didn't relent. The cycle of hater already had deep claws on his brother's back. Itachi could see it in his eyes, the same eyes as his father.

If morality is not set, then Sasuke shouldn't have died and my clan could have been saved a different way.

His jaw flexes, thinking of the conversation he had with Danzo in the dead night. How the man presented the ultimatum as if alternatives would fail. Itachi took time to think it through, and he concluded that options were limited. And yet, there were no moral rules to justify those limitations other than staying loyal to Konoha.

"How would you judge Konoha's morality?" Itachi challenges.

Tsunade's brow creases at his question. "Are you asking me that because of this mission? Or are you having a moral crisis?"

"Yes," he answers vaguely. "Perhaps both."

She smacks her teeth at him and looks away. "I'd say we have a higher moral standard than a few years ago. This mission you have with Sakura included."

This he finds hard to believe. The mission with Sakura to procreate goes against every moral stance he can think of and reflects the Konoha from decades ago.

"And if I refused?" he challenges. "What would the Village do if I chose death instead of complying with its demands?"

"Are you choosing to die?"

"This is merely a scenario. You have the means to resurrect me. What would be the village's moral stance on this: respecting my decision or preserving the Sharingan?"

Tsunade regards him seriously. "I would hope we could do both. You're not a prisoner here, Uchiha. You make it seem as if there weren't other ways. Sakura's shown us that there are. We adapted. We wouldn't use you that way even if we had the means to. But it is important to the safety of Konoha that the Sharingan doesn't go extinct."

You did use me in different ways. He did it because that's what shinobis do. Because he loves those who live here. Could there have been another way?

"If other means exist, why not just use those from the start? Why put the burden on Sakura and me?"

Tsunade's sigh is long and tired. "Sometimes, the easiest way is the best way. The easiest way was simply fathering a child yourself with someone with whom you already have a relationship. If complications arose from that, then we would handle them accordingly."

She looks over her shoulder at him. "Have further complications arisen?"

Itachi shrugs his shoulders. "It is not something that can't be dealt with."

Honey brown eyes narrow in a way that lets Itachi know she's gotten around to the point. It sets him on edge with the way she analyzes his every breath.

"It's true that your brother is a byproduct of his decisions. He is equally the byproduct of others. That other being you. And your choices were the byproduct of a Clan and a man with too big of ambition. If Danzo didn't lust after the Sharingan, things could have gone differently. I don't care how much of a genius you are, that was too big of a decision to place on a child's shoulders. These are things we take into consideration, Itachi. It's why you're still here in Konoha. However,"

And the way she drags it out makes Itachi tense. "If you've decided you don't want to be here anymore. If you've reached the point where this isn't the life you would have chosen for yourself, then perhaps other means of preserving your dojutsu may be necessary."

Itachi can't fix his face to hide his displeasure. "What are you trying to say? I would desert the Leaf?"

"I'm saying that I think you don't know what you want," she firmly corrects, "There's nothing in the jutsu that explains the effects of an untoward soul. If you prefer death over your current life, then maybe it's why death has yet to let you go. Maybe you don't want it to."

When Itachi comes back from his meeting with Tsunade, the only thing he says is that he is ready to continue. Although she can not entirely put her finger on it, something feels very off about his demeanor.

"Did your meeting go well?" she tries.

Itachi nods stiffly as the haunted expression shrouds his face. Sakura bites the inside of her cheek, conflicted on whether to inquire further. What happened to you?

Even if she wants to inquire, Itachi does not give her the opportunity. He takes off up the stairs without another word. She frowns at his back and follows silently. She follows him, knowing something needs to be said but not knowing what that something is. They make it to the top. Itachi hesitates before a large set of shoji doors. Gray eyes gaze blankly at the doors as if they would open before him without ever having to touch them. Sakura moves to stand next to him, which goes completely unacknowledged.

"Should we start here?" Her query is cautious and earns a wince from her partner.

If possible, his expression grows more pensive. "Not you," Itachi curtly responds, "I will do this myself."

Sakura fights back against the sudden tightening in her chest. She takes a step back from him, giving him space.

"I can start in Sasuke's room if you want."

"That's fine."

Itachi agrees. She expects him to offer more resistance. She expects Itachi to request the same thing he did the night before. But her partner is sliding open the shoji doors, stepping into a dark room with darker memories. She cannot see much around him, save a tall structure that looks like a dresser.

"Um," Sakura manages to get him before he disappears completely. "What should I do if I finish first?"

Itachi offers her a look that she cannot quite read. Green eyes widen. She holds back a flinch. Itachi's being so rough as if her very presence is a nuisance. Whether he means to or not, he is. She doesn't know what she did to cause his ire. He's not telling her anything. Sakura wants to make demands but finds her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Clutching her hands together, she forces herself to be okay with his silence. Itachi is not in a good place. He needs my understanding, not my annoyance. Her partner turns towards the hall, "Start there."

"Is that your old room?"

He nods.

Sakura pulls her brows together, turning towards his face. "Don't you want to do that? What if there's something in there you want to keep? I don't want to pack anything that may be of sentimental value…"

Her partner's frowning more by the second. Sakura wisely shuts her mouth. This whole house is of sentimental value. Her words sound stupid in light of that revelation.

"You can pack everything," Itachi finally says, "I will go through boxes later."

She finds his plan redundant when he could just do the packing himself. But she nods because that's what he asks. Itachi only waits a few more seconds before leaving her in the hall, closing his parents' door behind him. Shutting her out again.

Sakura swallows the nagging in her gut that this is a very bad idea. She pushes herself beyond herself and walks the yellow-lit hall towards Sasuke's room.

Opening the door, she flicks on the light to find nothing save empty furniture.

Years ago, when she was young, this would have been her dream. To be in the Uchiha Sasuke's room. To touch his nightstand and sit on his bed. To have the honor of knowing she may have been the first, hopefully, the only. Younger Sakura would have been over the moon with so much joy and too many nerves and not enough self-esteem to think herself pretty enough to be here. Younger Sakura would not have been able to see past her fantasy to pick up on the sad emptiness this space holds. Not only because there's nothing here but because there is nothing for Sasuke here. This place must have been a misery after the Massacre. How long did it take for them to get him to leave? Who packed his things? Who aided him through grief?

She paces the room, pushing aside dust to open drawers that have not been used in decades. His clothes are gone. There are no imprints of recently moved items. This room was cleared before she ever stepped foot in it, by a boy who lost everything.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke," she whispers to the void, "I couldn't save you."

The words hold less grief than years ago, more maturity from someone who has seen a lot. Who knows pain, craved revenge, fell into the darkness, then crawled out one struggling limb at a time. Who had Naruto and Kakashi and Ino and Itachi all waiting for her to find herself again. Sakura took her time in the beginning then ran from the darkness when duty required standing on her own two feet.

She fell many times, but she got it. In the bright room of a boy who only knew that his parents were killed by his only brother, Sakura pities her friend. So she apologizes again, gives the room a once, and leaves.

There is nothing left to take from there.

Sasuke left a long time ago.

Quietly she shuts the door. Per Itachi's request, she crosses the hall to his old room instead. Tentatively turning on the lights, Sakura's eyes adjust to her new setting. A bed with a dresser, a nightstand, and a desk lay waiting for her. The room is simple and unassuming. Sakura grins at how familiar and foreign it all seems. A young Itachi, barely out of teens, once inhabited this place. A boy with too sharp a mind to remain a child for long. Thrust into the shinobi world before Sakura knew how to properly throw a kunai.

Taking a breath, she starts to assemble boxes, preparing to pack up his childhood. Sakura tries not to overthink, starting with books left on the desk, covered in dust. The topmost is an academy textbook that was probably barely used since he graduated from the academy at such a young age. She thumbs it open, scanning the material for what children Itachi's age may have been taught. The book barely touches on the Third Shinobi War, which makes sense. It was probably just starting when this book was written. It's a sore reminder that there's some gap between them. By the time Sakura became an academy student, the Fourth Hokage and his sacrifice, the Third Shinobi War, and its atrocities were common lessons.

Itachi witnessed what was all just history for me.

Sakura reverently closes the book, laying it at the bottom of the box before going back to the desk. There were other books too, things she's seen on library shelves. Books about shinobi weaponry, ninjutsu, and genjutsu. She knows Itachi is smart. His reading habits as a child are hardly a surprise. She lays them carefully at the bottom of the box as well.

Heading back to the desk, Sakura opens the draws, and this time she laughs to herself. "Dividers? Really? How old were you, thirty?"

A place for pencils. A place for pens. A place for rulers and paper and other writing things. In the other drawer, neatly arranged ninja tools. Shuriken in one stack, then kunai and wire. All with lids. All are labeled in the haphazard handwriting from a child's fingers. She pulls them out one by one and arranges them in a way she hopes he approves. As she goes through the rest of the drawers, a picture sticks up from the edge of a notebook. Sakura pauses, catching the wisps of long brown hair over a purple-clad shoulder. She scans the door to see if Itachi will appear. Despite her better judgment, she opens the notebook.

It's a picture of Itachi, with big wide eyes, full of innocence and uncertainty, staring discreetly at a girl. Her smile is big, and her eyes are closed. She's holding up two fingers with one hand while the other holds a stick of hanami dango. Sakura skims over at her partner, noting that he too holds dango and smiles so small she missed it at first.

He looks so innocent it's almost too adorable. Most of that is probably because of her.

Her brain knows without confirmation just who this girl is that makes Itachi appear as if nothing else in the world matters. He's wearing his shinobi headband. This moment is clearly after his academy days but before his time in Anbu. Before his world darkened. Before the bright ray of sunshine next to him no longer stood by his side. Before Uchiha Izumi became a ghost.

Tucking the picture back in place, Sakura scans the note jotted down on the opposite page.

"Life can't be meaningless. Life can't be eternal either. What lives in between those things? Have I found it yet? Is this it?"

Sakura quickly closes the notebook, feeling as if she's crossed a line. This is why I didn't want to do this alone.

Hastily packing the book and the rest of the things on the desk, Sakura distracts herself from her thoughts by going through his things pragmatically. Every time she takes a moment's pause, she sees Izumi smiling at her, reminding her of a life she will never know. Of a world Itachi lives in that doesn't include her. He may have asked her to be there last night but, in the end, he always goes back to Izumi and Shisui.

Sakura leaves the room to get some air, having cleared most of the desk and dresser. I need a break.

She closes the door behind her, preparing to go downstairs for a snack. As she walks past Itachi's parents' room, an eerie quiet greets her. No shuffling of items, no movement, no anything. The thought occurs to her that perhaps he's left, disappeared into the night to find Shisui or Izumi. Sakura stills in front of the door, hoping for something to indicate that he is still here. Cautiously, she reaches, pressing tender fingers to the paper between wooden beams. Seconds tick by. She worries at her bottom lip with her teeth, contemplating opening the door. When nothing happens, Sakura clears her throat, feeling tears at the corner of her vision before opening her mouth.

"Itachi?" No response.

Sakura rubs her cheeks and pushes past herself to reach him. "If…if you're in here, I'm taking a break. I'll come to check on you in a few minutes."

She waits for any sign that he hears her. Nothing. Not even a whimper. Please be okay.

Sakura steps away from the door.

As soon as she moves, Itachi uncurls from his hunched position on the floor. He weakly inhales as reality comes all at once, skimming at his surroundings with regret, ignoring the sensation of walls closing in. Everything is too close except for Sakura. She is too far.

Panic threats to rob him of breath, dread rolls in his gut. He covers his mouth to suppress an itching cough and holds his stomach as a wave of nausea passes.

Unsteadily, Itachi staggers to his feet. Shoulders hunched and arms swaying limply at his side, he hopes Sakura is gone downstairs before he can do something regretful.

Itachi rarely acts on selfish impulses. His impulses rarely involve taking advantage of the kindness of others? He knows better, should have been able to control himself better. Yet a part of him longs for her to come back. To calm his racing thoughts. To heal his soul. To put him at ease. To have her take up every inch of space in his consciousness so he doesn't have to think, remember and question everything he thinks he knows.

If the circumstances were different, if they were different, Itachi reasons he could have gone to her with no issue. As it stands, his past affects even his ability to seek her out.

Frustrated, Itachi drags his hands through his hair then covers his face to think. This house is full of shameful acts perpetrated by me. The things that bind him–the death of his family, his resurrection–everything calls him in one direction or another. It would be easy to blame his clouded judgment on the distorted remnants of a barely successful jutsu. To blame it Tsuande's words that shake an already rocky foundation.

Easy but not right.

Itachi discerns when Sakura's thoughts divert to him again, worrying about him. He winces, contemplates his options, then moans regretfully.

This bond is dangerous. I am vulnerable.

He faces towards the dimly lit room, eyeing his parent's belongings with growing trepidation. He chose to clean this part of the house alone. Yet, every glimpse of the floor is stained with blood. Their bodies lie lifeless with wounds administered by his hand. As if the genjutsu he forced on Sasuke, forces itself on him. He can not undo it. He can not unsee it. No matter how many things he drops on the floor, his parents still lay there, dead, staring lifelessly at him.

'Compared to yours, our pain will be over in an instant.'

'You truly are a kind child.'

Itachi scrambles towards the door, shoving it open so hard that it slams against its supports. He missteps into the hall, but the scene is just the same. There is blood everywhere. His stomach turns. The nausea returns. Itachi can not quite find that mental balance that supported him for years and years.

Why? Why can't I control this? Itachi hisses through his teeth and draws himself up to his full height.

"Itachi?" Sakura calls from downstairs. The muscles in his legs beg him to run and go downstairs.

The mental fight starts again with blood in the hall and Sakura plaguing his thoughts. He understands she means well. But she is killing him right now. If he goes to her, he would intend to take from a connection she knows nothing about. The last thing he needs is another thing on his conscience. If they both stay here, he can not guarantee that things will not become more complicated. What would stop him from reaching for her in the middle of the night if he has a terrible dream or memories come back.

Nothing. Itachi immediately regrets his thoughts because he knows it is valid. At least for right now. Perhaps tomorrow, with a clearer head, I may be able to stay.

The Uchiha shifts his attention to the shoji doors leading to the back garden.

I have to leave.

Settled on that fact, Itachi mulls over leaving while he has more control or explaining to Sakura before his departure. Both options come with the risk of Sakura's displeasure. Leaving without context would give him clarity in every regard. Sakura. His grief. The shadows appear and disappear. Leaving allows reasoning without distraction. He has to come back. He has to tell her regardless. But he does not have to do it when he is emotionally compromised.

If he stays, then Sakura gets the chance to decide, contingent on him not slipping backward. Itachi cannot confidently say that he wouldn't because he already has. Depriving Sakura the right to lash out at him seems selfish and cowardly.

"Perhaps a walk…" he mutters to himself, then looks at the door.

A walk could settle both sides. He can get space. Sakura gets her explanation when he comes back. If he goes through the garden, there's a better chance of her not seeing him leave for a few minutes. Itachi straightens, steels his nerves, and goes back into his parents' room. Quietly, he looms near the door to a medium-sized balcony that leads to the garden below.

Forgive me, Tousan. Okasan. Itachi jumps, touching down the grass in a soundless crouch. Drawing himself up, he glances at the house behind him then towards the garden for the quickest exit.

The roof, perhaps. Itachi readies himself to jump when panic stops him. The sense of panic that is not his own.

What?

Too late. The engawa doors slam open. Sakura stumbles onto the porch. The darkness of night does nothing to hide the expression on her face. Sunken and soured, Sakura's green eyes hold him still. She takes a step towards him.

"Are you leaving?" she whispers, "Are you going to Shisui?" She accuses.

Itachi flexes his jaw at the sharp edges of her unspoken request, layer in distrust and unspoken apprehension. Threatening to rip him apart. He drops his head to collect thoughts, to think through the best approach. He needs to think, to reason, to not be swept away in the torrent of wills pulling him in every direction. But Sakura's sentiments are loud, dragging at the chains wrapped around his soul.

"I have to…" he manages, weak and skeptical, recognizing immediately that his words only make things worse.

His partner huffs bitterly and flippantly replies, "Then I'm coming too."

No. "I'm coming back."

"We both are," Sakura airly contradicts him as if it makes sense when they both know it does not. "Come on, let's go."

Itachi swallows down a retort to her somewhat condescending attitude. It isn't fair for him to have negative feelings about her response when he instigated it.

Thinning his lips, he says her name, trying to get her to come to reason with him. "I don't need you to come, Sakura."

"How far are we going?" His efforts go completely over her head as she starts looking around the room for slippers. "Just outside? To his house? The street? Where do you see him?"

"Sakura."

"Do we even need to leave? I mean he follows you around like a sick puppy sometimes so maybe he's here? Shisui?" Sakura calls out sarcastically, "Shisui! Shisui, are you here? Can you make your presence known?"

"Sakura, stop this."

"What?" she snarls, her tempestuous mood coming to a head. "Do you want to go galavanting in the night chasing ghosts and shadows on your own, again? And I'm supposed to let you go on this counterproductive goose chase? I knew it. I knew it! I knew you would try to leave! Just like you did this morning."

Her anger hurts him but not more than the weight of her mistrust. When was the last time bore this tone with him? As if any moment he will endeavor to unbind the very foundations of the village. As if he were plotting treachery like some missing-nin with an obscured agenda.

Itachi hears Sakura's words and Tsuande's voice at the same time. He curves his fingers, holding himself together, reminding himself that Sakura understands very little about everything right now. Not because he doesn't want to tell her, he does. Just not at the moment. And the reality that she leaps to the conclusion about Shisui insults all of his efforts.

"This isn't about Shisui," Itachi says severer than he means to.

Her voice cracks. "Then what is it about, Itachi? You constantly do this. You always leave without so much as trying."

That makes him narrow his eyes, "I am trying!"

"To do what, exactly?" Sakura demands.

When he cannot effectively articulate how hard it is to be reasonable when she is being unreasonable, Sakura stomps through the garden towards him. Itachi tenses. She clutches his shoulder, forcing him to look at her properly. A shock rippled through his body. Itachi winces.

His distress must have shown on his face as Sakura's fiery expression dies almost instantly. She yanks her hand away just as quickly. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if she senses it too. Her green eyes are wide and glistening with care and uneasiness for him. Behind that is a scarcely veiled layer of guilt. Her face contorts into indecisiveness. Sakura glances off and back again. Itachi cannot decide if this is better or worse. The way her lips tremble, fighting tears on his behalf. The reluctance in her actions. When shaky hands cup his cheeks, he shuts his eyes with a vulnerable lament, falling, and failing. Not this. But also very much this. Apologetic. Comforting. Safe.

"Why are you trying to leave, Itachi?" Sakura calmly urges. "Talk to me."

Because I can't lose you too.

Itachi swallows down cough and struggles against anxiety building from her touch. If he stays he risks doing something to lose her. If he tells her the reason, the risk is the same. And he's been staring lost in the face for two days. Sakura's green eyes could devour him whole with how pleading they are.

Itachi opens his mouth to speak, but a wet gurgle tickling the bottom of his lungs stops him. If he opens his mouth, it is going to come out. Should that happen, Sakura may well tie him down and prevent him from going for medical reasons.

I can't stay here.

He clasps her wrist instead and tries to dislodge them from his face. Sakura resists, and he pulls her by her arms. A split-second surge of unadulterated irritation directed at him causes Itachi to lose focus long enough for Sakura to get her wrists free. She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and shoves him backward. He stumbles, vision going spotty. His cough comes up by the sheer force of how hard she pushes him, wet with blood that sprinkles the corners of his lips. Just like before, his muscles feel weak. Itachi attempts to steady himself before she can.

"Oh my god," Sakura's fingers grab hold of the front of his shirt, yanking him hard into her arms. The force of it sends them both tumbling to the ground.

Sakura's back hits the paved walkway of his mother's garden She hisses in pain. Itachi drops lifelessly on top of her. Against his will, his legs and arms spasm. If Itachi could speak he would tell her to let him go, to give him space, to leave him be. But consciousness and reasons leave him again. And he's falling and falling, and Sakura wraps strong arms around his shoulders and holds him close to her while his body moves of its own volition.

"I got you," she declares, "I got you, Itachi. Stay with me."

A/N: Welcome to 2022, lovelies! I come baring angst! Originally this chapter was not supposed to be a two-parter. I had to split it up. Otherwise, it would have literally been 30,000 words. Plus, we can fully grasp the complexity of Itachi's thought process and the evolution of Sakura's thought process.

This literally pained me to write. Itachi is my favorite character. I, just like him, vehemently believe he did what was necessary to save Konoha. However, I also see how Sakura's approach could force him to think otherwise. Being at home means he has to face what he did, lost, wants, and why he can never have it back. From that, consider whether he could have done something different so as not to lose it in the first place. For those of you wondering why Itachi did not have similar reactions when working in his relatives' homes for months, he did. It was just concealed better, which is why he has an existential crisis about not being able to do that anymore.

As for Sakura, Itachi just doesn't quite know where he stands with her emotionally. Not yet. He's not as far along as our girl is. Ah, I'm rambling now. Anyways, Lilies Part II will probably be out in less than a month. In case you've forgotten lilies mean secrets or shared secrets. There are more secrets to come!

Okay, bye!

-CeCe^^

Word Count: 11,344

Musical Inspiration: Adele's new album. The whole thing, again. Plus, 'Love in the Dark'. Because's Adele!