Are they not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering mortal who comes in weariness?
It was dark.
The nothingness was so all-encompassing that Sakura thought she may have died, her chakra spilled over carelessly in a pathetic attempt to pull Itachi from his freefall from the brink of death. It was neither cold nor hot, cool nor warm, but just before dread threatened to consume her completely she saw it: the smallest of sparks, off in the great beyond like someone had struck flint against stone. Its glow faded in an instant, dotting her vision with colorful afterimages she blinked away as she zeroed in on its direction.
When it came again, it was far weaker—but she was so close now she knew, undeniably, it was Itachi's soul. It was so incredibly feeble she knew his next breath was going to be his last. She took his spirit in her metaphysical hands, an unshakable fire in her heart.
Not on my watch, you dumbass...!
Her focus regained, the next she blinked she was back in reality. Itachi's statuesque form was lying before her, and her knees sat in a small pool of blood; her own, for the moment she'd seen he and Sasuke here atop the unnatural mountain, she slid through the rubble to assess the situation. The scrapes and cuts on her legs were short-lived thanks to the sheer amount of healing chakra she was producing, and she had released her yin seal without conscious action. Sasuke was pale as a ghost, his eyes wide and his face streaked with two lines of blood—but he was upright and breathing, and could not seem to tear his gaze from his brother even as Sakura called out to him.
She had pulled Gaara's soul from the clutches of a demonic jutsu meant to bind and kill, and she would be absolutely damned if she let Itachi die from mere battle wounds. With her composure steadied she leveled her hands at his chest and gave a harsh push, feeling his heart jolt once in response. She called upon all of her control and finesse, knowing she could not risk that hemorrhage of chakra Itachi himself had chided her for over a year ago, now.
As she concentrated on each of his internal organs and his bones, she furrowed her brows in confusion. He'd been beaten up, surely, but none of the injuries had been fatal. Between chakra-infused chest compressions she healed surface-level bruises and tissue damage, muscle tears and small fractures, but it was not until she finally assessed his lungs that she understood.
He hadn't been killed by the battle at all; his sickness had done him in. This had been planned, she realized with both sadness and a bubbling fury. To die at Sasuke's hands was what he felt he deserved, bringing Itachi's atrocity full circle so he could die in peace.
But to run from it, never face it, and bloody Sasuke's hands? Shit—he hadn't even done that in a real way! He knew his brother couldn't hold a candle to him in terms of power, and judging by the state of his lungs, he'd carefully chosen when to stop taking his medicine in preparation for this very thing. To trick Sasuke into thinking he'd killed him...!
"Sakura," came that very voice, quiet and quivering and gripped by fear. "Why—why are you...?"
She gave Itachi's chest another harsh pump, ignoring Sasuke. One of his ribs snapped, and she swore under her breath—she needed to be careful, lest run the risk of puncturing his already weakened lungs. His heart just wouldn't beat on its own, and she heard Sasuke's breath catch as he watched her rip the shirt from Itachi's chest and slowly slice him open.
Live.
She kept her hand covered in chakra, knowing if her skin were to touch anything within him it would be a guaranteed infection leading to sepsis. She reached inside, her other hand firm on his sternum, and took hold of his heart. With a wince—it was an otherworldly sensation and a batshit insane tactic in her desperation—she squeezed, channeling her intense healing chakra with the motion. She could feel it course through his veins, and she sucked in a great breath and put her mouth on his. Her hair, the sheen of it a metallic white in her cursed state, fell over his face as she breathed her ample life into him.
Live...!
Another pump of his heart, another breath. Her chakra at this much more intimate level was working better than before, and as she shut her eyes she swore she could see that spark in the darkness ignite, the flint upon the stone finally creating fire.
Her work on his lungs nearing completion, she felt his heart sputter once. Blood flowed through, but this time without the infusion of her chakra. It had done it on its own, and in between her breaths into his mouth she felt his chest rise.
Live!
She pulled her hand from his heart and out of the hole she'd cut, slamming her palm against the incision to stitch it back together. One more of her breaths into his throat and lungs, one last compression, just a bit more of her enhanced healing chakra...
There was a flash in his eyes, his expression startled through the pain. They were glassy and bloodshot, but he looked to Sakura with recognition. It was the first she noticed the dried blood that'd spilled down his chin, crusted in his long fringe and staining the palms of his hands as he reached one of them towards her. She took it, grasping it tightly both of her stone-colored hands. Then his head fell once again to the side, his arm going limp as she held it. In a panic she shot him through again with her chakra, and though he'd lost consciousness again...
"He's alive," she whispered, tears finally streaming down her face as she ended the Rebirth Technique and reverted her curse seal. In spite of the sour, dizzying feeling in her stomach, she could hardly feel anything but sheer relief, so intense it made her limbs feel weak and limp as noodles.
She buried her face in his shirt, crying onto him openly. It was then that a different hand pressed comfortingly against her back, then gripped her tunic so tightly she thought it may have been in anger. Sasuke yanked her back from his elder brother, but it was not his wrath she faced—it was something like his gratitude, for he pulled her into an embrace so tender she had to fight not to swoon over such a thing. He pushed his face into the crook of her neck, one of his strong arms around her shoulders and the other around her waist.
But what must he think of her? She'd sullied his return to Konoha, surely embarrassment enough on its own, by leaving within the week. She'd received training meant for him, joined up with the organization on the hunt for Naruto, and fallen in love with his brother, who'd murdered their entire family. Sure he'd been the one to keep Team 7 from attacking her as she rescued Gaara, but Itachi had made sure to cut their would-be reunion short. In that whirlwind of a year she'd spent as his teammate, she hadn't known Sasuke to be the rational sort, but—
"What the hell are you doing here, Sasuke-kun?" she finally asked, bewildered.
She heard his breath catch, her red tunic damp and stained with a mixture of his tears and his blood. "I—was wondering the same thing." He held her tighter, but then she could feel him smile against her shoulder. "Moron."
As they pried themselves from each other, she took his face in her hands. In spite of her exhaustion and her drained reserves, she used what little she had left to ease the ache she could feel behind his eyes and stitch up a few particularly nasty cuts on his body. As she worked, she explained all there was to it: Karin had felt their explosive battle, and Sakura recognized that amplified Chidori and came as fast as she could.
"Jiraiya..." Sasuke started, staring at Itachi's comatose body while Sakura healed a spot on his ribs. "He was killed by the man named Pein of the Akatsuki. I wasn't thinking and sought out Itachi looking for answers, but he was hellbent on a fight."
Sakura's heart ached to hear something like that. She'd just seen that old man! If she'd known he'd been marching to his death, would she have stopped him? Had more to say to him? And for Sasuke, who'd had so much ripped away from him in his short life, to know yet another loss—it was surely a devastating blow, and something that fanned the flames of her resolve.
"It—I...gave into my anger," he went on. "But I'd never seen him so..."
"You don't need to revisit it for me," she assured, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. His healing done—not a half bad job for how tired she was—she sat back, putting her palm on Itachi's forehead. He was comatose, but it was nothing she hadn't monitored and assisted with at Orochimaru's estate. Sasuke looked on, a slight furrow to his brows.
"You're...with him, aren't you."
It was not a question, but she nodded her answer.
"And that was...Tsunade's Creation Rebirth jutsu," he murmured, as if to himself. "How do you know that? Not even Naruto can pull it off yet."
"Orochimaru knows plenty he shouldn't. I had to figure out the details on my own, and the cell regeneration makes me nauseated, but...it's worth it. I can heal anyone as much as I need to."
"I thought it seemed different," he said, "when I saw you healing Gaara. That you came up with your own way to pull it off...damn."
They were quiet for some time, and she was vaguely aware of a heated spar happening just outside the strange mountain upon which they sat. Her memories of even minutes ago were one big blur for how fast she'd been running and how panicked she'd been, but Kisame had been standing guard at the main entrance to the path up the tiered hills. She'd never seen him so furious, but as he'd swung Samehada down at her, she'd gracefully leapt up and landed atop it, kicking off to propel herself forward. Karin and the others must have caught up eventually, and knowing Suigetsu, he was likely giddy with excitement to see Kisame there. Surely he'd challenged Kisame to a fight.
"Sakura," Sasuke said then, an emotion in his voice that she could not place. "There's so much I've wanted to say to you—so much I've wanted to...apologise for."
She looked up at him, her heart fluttering. "What? No. I'm the one who should be apologising—"
"Orochimaru didn't kidnap you. From the moment we realized you left I never believed that. I should've been strong enough never to go in the first place. I should've cared enough to see how much you were hurting. I'm sorry."
True that she wouldn't have ever gotten the idea to leave if he hadn't done it first, but that wasn't the full picture. "I left because there's something wrong with Konoha," she said, watching him. "I left with you and Naruto and Kaka-sensei in my heart, and kept you there all this time. I needed power, because I wanted to change the world. I couldn't bear to let another generation...go through what we all did. We were kids." She looked down at Itachi, swallowing down the lump rising in her throat. She knew now was the time, that she may not get another chance. When she glanced back up to Sasuke, he flinched back at the sudden and serious change to her aura.
Her brows set in determination, she asked, "Do you know of a man calling himself Uchiha Madara?"
He blinked, considering. "Madara was our clan's most infamous head, but there's no way he lives. He was a contemporary of the First Hokage."
That stirred something inside of her. "He wears a mask covering his face, so I can't tell you what he looks like, but he approached me in the mountains weeks ago. He told me"—her heart began to pound in her ears, the gravity of the conversation weighing on her—"the truth about Itachi."
"What do you mean by that?" Goosebumps had broken across his forearms, and subconsciously he leaned in.
"He was exploited," she said, hardly believing she was repeating such a thing out loud. "Lord Third had been using him as a spy since he was very young. Your clan was in the midst of an uprising—Hokage-sama wanted to talk it out, but a man named Danzo convinced the council that genocide was the answer instead."
Sasuke shifted, his body language closing off as he processed. "Itachi wouldn't—"
"He loves the Leaf," she pressed. "Can you deny that? It was how he was raised, how we were all raised, to put the safety of the village above all else. They used him, Sasuke-kun, because he thought it was the better option. The safer option."
"I—" Abruptly he stood, a tremor pulsing through him. "How could something like that be covered up?"
"I had no idea he'd even done it until recently. They teach us what's convenient and withhold whatever information they need...! They just threw you in an apartment and called it square—hell, they did the same to Naruto! You all give everything to the Leaf when they need you, but they'll toss you out like dogs when that usefulness has run its course!"
"Sakura!" His breaths were heavy, his shoulders heaving with the motion. "You left because you lost faith in what Konoha stands for. How do you know this man wasn't using that as leverage?"
"Because he spoke of hating the Uchiha as much as he hates the Leaf. He was going to kill you all and then the rest of the village if Itachi hadn't intercepted him."
This had gone so much deeper than Sasuke had realized, and she watched with an aching heart as he struggled to come to grips with all of this new information. He looked this way and that, between her and Itachi, and finally up to the blue sky, puffy white clouds all that remained of that horrible lightning strike he'd conjured.
"That can't be true," he spat, turning to face away from her. "I won't believe such a thing!"
Then, he leapt over the rubble and darted off. She stared in his direction long after he'd disappeared over the horizon, not sure what the hell she was feeling. Had she made a mistake? But he had to know. He deserved to know! The day was silent but for the breeze; Itachi was unmoving but alive, the small battle down the mountain long-since quieted, and Sakura had just turned Sasuke's world so upside down so shortly after such a sweet reunion that she let out a mighty yell, crashing her balled fists into the jagged stones in utter frustration.
She sat like that for a long while until a shadow appeared before her, long and dark in the late afternoon sun.
"He lives," he said. "I came to see what it was you might've done, but he won't take kindly that you've stolen the death he wanted, little sister. Come, and let me do the lifting."
Kisame had stooped, holding out his hand to her. Despite everything she took it, grasping his strong forearms with both of her hands as he brought her to her feet. Overwhelmed from all that'd happened, she crashed into him, desperate for whatever comfort she could get even from as gruesome a killer as he. He'd known her heart, seen her at her lowest, and cared for her in his own hard way. She knew how he liked his tea; he knew to ask for an extra dango when an inn's cook was serving them. He'd helped her improve her skill with the sword, and she'd healed him without hesitation whenever he needed it.
The sudden gesture had startled him, but one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her once. He was so tall that her face was pinned there against his ribs until he took a step back, watching her with a pensive air about him before dropping his hand from her bicep.
"When I was young—not quite as young as you, though—I was under orders," he started, his eyes flickering to Itachi. "My superior instructed that under no circumstance was I to let our intel fall into enemy hands. We were cornered by a Leaf shinobi known for his brutality in interrogation, and my comrades were shaking with fear. They concluded that, in exchange for escaping with their lives intact, they would tell the Leaf all they knew. I did what I had to do; what I thought was right.
"It was when I returned with my report that I learned my boss had been selling for cash and goods the very information I'd just killed to protect. All of those people—well, the deed had already been done, and I had to harden myself against it. In my anguish I killed my superior and further solidified my place in hell."
Sakura watched as he took the few steps to kneel by Itachi's side. He shrugged off his cloak, wrapping it snugly around his partner as he gently lifted him in his arms. Kisame was already gargantuan, and looked even more so with the other man held in his arms like that.
"A man appeared before me that day, by the name of Uchiha Madara." An electric jolt flew through Sakura as he carried on. "He spoke of a world made only of truths, and I joined the Akatsuki at his behest. When I met Itachi-san, it felt like fate to work so closely alongside that man's blood. Forgive my eavesdropping, but if Madara made himself known to you as well, then I can only see this as another stroke of fate. The two of you..."
As he frowned slightly, Sakura fought back another wave of tears. She was exhausted and sick of crying today, but she'd never expected to hear that Kisame, who displayed nothing but an enthusiastic joy in the heat of battle, had once felt the sting of guilt and the twist of betrayal by the village that raised him, the village he'd been taught to love and protect. But he laughed then, just a small chuckle, then shook his head.
"How best can I say it? Itachi-san, for how similar our circumstances, makes me feel that my life is not so meaningless as I'd assumed. That I am not so terrible a person as I think. And you, little sister, are the same. When I have someone to care for, I feel whole."
She wished she could run to embrace him again, for this information was to be treasured indeed. That he trusted her with it set a warmth through to her very soul, her determination reignited. She smiled at him, but he huffed in response, situating their partner in his arms and turning to descend the terraced mountain.
"You are not to repeat any of that; I have an appearance to keep, after all. Now come—your friends are eager to leave. I fear I may have put the Houzuki boy too much in his place, but if you will have me, I will follow." Once more, as if he couldn't help it, he looked down at Itachi. "I doubt I will find peace in this life at anyone's sides but yours and his."