Trigger warning: blood, scenes of torture, death and sex

The trip to the top floor of the mansion they were currently occupying was a wasted one, and Itachi released a dejected sigh at the silence that met him on the other side of the door. Really, he knew he should have expected it.

Following a ripper binge, there was only one person who could get through to Sasuke during the depressive episode that followed – Uzumaki Naruto. The blond remained fixed to Sasuke's side throughout the withdrawal, standing tall in the face of his depression and acceptance. No matter the toll that darkness took on Sasuke (and, in turn, Sasuke took out on Naruto), he refused to leave him to suffer alone.

Contrary to popular belief, his brother was not without remorse. He didn't snuff out the lives of hundreds without a backwards glance. Following the comedown of a ripper binge, when the withdrawal was at its peak, he was plagued with the faces and the names of his victims like each individual was scalded into his brain. An extra layer to Hashirama's curse courtesy of Madara, who claimed it could serve as a deterrent or more of a reason to strive for control of his ripper gene.

Senju Hashirama believed the intentions to be pure, not knowing that it was his sadistic nature wishing to worsen Sasuke's suffering – they had all believed him, including Sasuke. Following the casting of the curse, however, it became the norm for Madara to purposely hinder Sasuke's sobriety. He pushed and he pushed and he kept pushing until finally, his little brother simply couldn't fight his instincts any longer and caved.

But Sasuke refused to let the world witness the vulnerability in his addiction. He despised the mere notion of others knowing he too was a victim of the vicious Madara. So, he played his part of the merciless ripper who relished in his urges, playing into and eventually losing himself amongst the carnage Madara drowned him in.

Itachi returned to his room with a solid weight in his chest. It was creeping up to two days now of Sasuke locking himself away following Naruto's decision to stay with Sakura. Usually, he wouldn't worry to such a tiresome extent, but Itachi knew that his brother was steadily reaching the climax of his withdrawal and he despaired at the thought of him going through it all alone. Without his companion by his side, there was no one to keep Sasuke grounded. No one to confirm if what he was seeing was true.

The ghosts of his past were very much real – a harsh downside of the extra layer to the spell Madara insisted on. Although they couldn't physically touch Sasuke, the ghosts could communicate with him and drive him to the brink of madness. They could hound him until he could no longer withstand the torment. It was where Hashirama came up with the punishment of murdering one of his magical hunters.

Despite his wishes, it quickly became obvious that Sasuke didn't want him hanging around. Why would he after all that happened between them? After Itachi so carelessly followed his heart and, in the process, ignored the familiarity in Sasuke's binging? He was so wrapped up in finding his peace and building a future with Sakura that he unforgivably dismissed Sasuke's torment, even adding to it when he fell victim to his heightened emotions and believed Madara's fabrication. He'd even daggered him for the better part of fifty years and had Shisui hide their bodies to keep Naruto from waking him.

What kind of brother did that make him?

"Try not to worry too much, Uchiha-san. The procedure was a success, and she will wake shortly. There will be mild discomfort but overall, your wife should fully recover within a couple of days."

The words were spoken reassuringly with a kind and smiling face, yet Itachi couldn't shake the helplessness that plagued the swirling mess that was his stomach. His love was at their mercy. Her life and their future quite literally held in their hands, and he could do nothing more than sit at her bedside waiting for the anaesthesia to wear off. As a man of action, the waiting game was torture.

Itachi had spent almost a whole six months researching those who would be involved in Sakura's care. From consultants to the surgeons to nurses. Hell, he'd even looked into the receptionist just to be assured all would go accordingly. They all boasted plentiful experience – the least still carrying a minimum of a decade in the field. Just to add that extra layer of certainty, he may have compelled them all to produce some of their best work yet both as individuals and collectively, leaving nothing to chance.

But this procedure was still relatively new and Itachi believed that to be his major cause for concern. Sakura was one of the first few to undergo it and if it went wrong? If she transitioned and they found out decades down the line that the eggs didn't survive? What would that do to her? What would that mean for them? Their future together didn't rely purely on having children, but they were a factor. A pleasant opportunity to have it all together.

Itachi dismissed the doctor with a quiet thanks before focusing his attention on his sleeping love, bringing her hand into his. He found comfort in her warmth and steady pulse.

Before Sakura, children hadn't even flashed through his mind as a passing whim or wonder. He never longed to start a family of his own, not in a world as horrific as his. But it appeared Sakura really was changing him for the better and he found himself filled with a yearning to experience the goals of ordinary humans. He wanted to experience life – to truly live – with her. With his love.

"…Itachi?"

The weak calling of his name barely even passed as a whisper but Itachi would never mistake Sakura's sweet voice. He stood upon the opening of her eyes and aided her in drinking a few sips of water, offering a gentle smile at the hope he found in her expression.

Humans had always seemed so weak to him. So frustratingly easy to break. It wasn't until crossing paths with Haruno Sakura that Itachi realised just how fragile human life was however, and in turn how easy it was to be snuffed out. Mortality never felt more real.

She would be like him soon, Itachi reassured himself while brushing the hair back from her features. Possessing enough strength to protect herself, obtaining speed that ensured she could outrun enemies if that strength failed her. Most importantly, Sakura would never fall to human disease or the evil of man. There would be no heart attacks for her as there had been for several relatives on her father's side. No risks of cancer from her mother's. A simple fall wouldn't break bones and she wouldn't contract fatal infections from something as ridiculous as a hangnail.

Damned heightened emotions, he despaired. The panic blooming in his chest was intense and left him scrambling to retain that calm countenance he'd carried for a millennium.

"How do you feel?"

"Physically? Awful," she rasped, wincing as she lay back more comfortably. "Emotionally? Mentally? I'm…" Sakura gifted him with the smile that always rendered Itachi awestruck and he leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "I'm ready to be like you now, love."

Get out of my head, he pleaded, trying to ignore the pleasured gasp in his ear that was marred by the pain he caused her.

He parted from her once he was finished with a short kiss of thanks that left a drop of blood on her lips. He didn't care to wipe it away or offer the handkerchief in his pocket. Instead, Itachi reached for the shirt hanging on the back of a chair and slipped into it, taking moments to swiftly button it back up.

He was well sated. At least, his body was. Yet Itachi continued to struggle against the seemingly permanent pit in his stomach, one that grew more irritated by the day and left him deeply unsatisfied. No amount of blood, sex or alcohol could touch the hollowness and he pessimistically presumed it would remain that way for a while.

We're over. Face it.

His hands stilled on the final button of his shirt and Itachi shut his eyes, forced to take a moment to compose those damned heightened emotions. A thousand years and they continued to plague him like he was a newborn vampire. It really was pitiful.

"What do I do now?" questioned the woman as she sat up, pressing the sheets to her chest.

"Whatever you wish," he replied simply, resisting the urge to sigh when her voice brought him back to the painful present. "I haven't taken away any of your free will."

"I know, but…" Her smile was hesitant and warm, already reddened cheeks going that little bit darker. It seemed she'd wiped away the blood, he noticed idly. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to stay close. You seem thirstier today."

Like that needed to be physically proven, he spotted the fresh, deeper bite wounds proudly littering her delicate neck, and Itachi knew that more would be revealed further down her body should he take away the covers. Regrettably, he'd lost more control than he'd anticipated. It wasn't even about the thirst but it a necessary evil to banish the differences between their bodies from his longing mind and heart.

"Go and enjoy your day," Itachi insisted quietly and stood, only spending a few seconds on his tie and re-buckling his belt. When he sensed her lingering gaze still trained on him, Itachi finally sighed. "I will call on you if I need you."

"I must go."

Sakura's smile widened, hindering the kiss but certainly not bothering him in the least. How could such a bright smile ever bother him?

"You have said that four times now. Each time less convincing than the last," she teased.

Oh, his love would one day come to truly understand how debilitating a vampire's heightened emotions could be. Just knowing he had to leave her side even for the shortest of times left a pit in his stomach, and Itachi ensured from the second of experiencing said emptiness that he would never be permanently without his Sakura.

"You could always cancel," she suggested coyly, foot sliding up his leg and guiding it into bending, bringing their hips closer together. "I'm sure they won't mind."

Ah, but they would. Giving his clan any reason to return to Konoha was enough to strengthen his resolve to leave.

First, however, Itachi gave into his deep need of his love a final time, leaving them both trembling and tingling with satisfaction before he did.

A troubled sigh returned Itachi to the present, though there was no dismissing the horrendous ache in his chest as Sakura's happy smile haunted his mind, pitted against the coldness that usually met him now.

Struggling to remain patient with the persistent human behind him, he ignored the churning of his stomach and turned to sit beside her on the bed, compelling her, repeating, "Go and enjoy your day. I will call on you if I need you."

Confusion swept through her expression but didn't cause any hesitation to follow his order. The owner of the mansion was quick in dressing herself, though after two minutes of drawn-out silence as she focused on her makeup, Itachi took it upon himself to leave. The door shut quietly behind him and the sound echoed in his mind as it was the only noise to fill the second level of the mansion.

Above him was the floor Sasuke had taken over, and he heard no signs of his brother being conscious, which was likely for the best. The night before was a particularly rough one, requiring both himself and Shisui to intervene when the spirits managed to chip away at Sasuke's sanity, threatening to send him over the edge and headfirst into another binge.

A witch's presence could have proved useful – without Naruto being around, that was. At the very least, the witch could erect a barrier spell not all dissimilar to the one they'd just spent a whole month trapped within. It would allow them to pass him enough blood to keep him moving until Sasuke was in control once more. Alas, Madara never missed a beat and so they had to endure.

Hearing movement below him prompted Itachi into seeking out his cousin, if only to ease the sickening sensation of being lost.

We're over.

Keeping their memories at bay was impossible. They tormented him ruthlessly until eventually, Itachi accepted it all as part of his punishment for how badly he hurt his love. The other part of his punishment was barely living as the pit in his stomach grew ever wider, as it left him unable to enjoy the finer things in life. After all he'd done, he undoubtedly deserved it.

It appeared Shisui had taken up residency near the fireplace, one leg crossed over the other as he enjoyed the book of his choosing. A small glass of whisky rested beside him on a small round table and Itachi took that as a sign to help himself to his own glass from the home-styled bar at the far left of the room, even though it was barely ten in the morning.

The woman who owned the mansion they helped themselves to was a twenty-something widow who had never worked a day in her life. Married to a man fifty years her senior, she had zero debts, though after his death boasted plenty of zeroes in the bank. It was child's play compelling her into confessing her true feelings, and they found it no surprise that the mansion lacked any personal touches or presence of the pensioner she once called her husband. After the insurance claim finally touched her bank, swiftly followed by her inheritance, he supposed there was no longer a reason to keep up with the farce.

When carefully selecting who they would compel to house them, they took several aspects into consideration to ensure they weren't upheaving a good person's life with their dark presence. The woman they both metaphorically and literally leeched off was as rotten as they came.

"You're up," Shisui remarked lightly, sparing him a glance from over the book. "I suspected you'd stay locked away a while after last night's dramatics."

Choosing to ignore his cousin, Itachi took a half-hopeful sip of his beverage before sighing regretfully at the bland taste and shotting the rest.

A well-deserved punishment, indeed.

"Have you spoken to Sasuke?"

"No," came Itachi's weary response. Although there appeared to be no point seeing as he couldn't taste what was once his second go-to, Itachi poured himself a larger second glass and moved to sit opposite Shisui by the fire. "You know better than I that he only responds to Naruto-kun's presence in times such as these."

He huffed at that and turned the page, muttering at length, "More like learned to live with it. That guy has spent the better part of a millennia clawing for a spot by Sasuke's side." After a moment of considering the words, Shisui added with a fondness they could rarely show around others, "They are soulmates."

Naruto may very well be the only reason Sasuke strove for control. "And now they are separated."

"For now," he corrected airily.

We're over.

"This time feels different."

"You think?"

"You don't?" At the meeting of their gazes and Shisui's half-hearted shrug, Itachi sighed, pointing out, "Up until a few days ago, Naruto never willingly stayed away from Sasuke following a ripper binge. Nobody came before Sasuke."

The one and only time it ever happened was when Sasuke was daggered over fifty years ago – another thorn in his side.

It appeared the longer an individual was put into the unnatural slumber after being daggered, the weaker the mental hold. Eventually, the person grew more alert. Not for Itachi himself, though he wasn't the one suffering with the ripper gene that demanded he drained every human he picked up on.

Roughly a year ago (according to his brother, anyway), Sasuke began to grow some form of consciousness though continued to be unable to move his body. That mental awareness continued to develop as the ripper's cravings within ferociously demanded human blood until finally, it grew strong enough to reach out to Naruto. Shisui had already suspected that it was their physical closeness (combining with the psychic connection) that allowed the blond to finally sniff Sasuke out, for Naruto was in the process of hounding him for Sasuke's whereabouts (just as he had for the past fifty years) when it clicked for him.

Itachi wished he could feel more bitter about the interference. He wanted to be angry with the hybrid for putting Shisui down and un-daggering Sasuke, but how could he? His little brother had someone who would stop at nothing to ensure he was safe, that he was as well as someone with his affliction could be. Naruto's love for Sasuke was sincere and powerful, and it was exactly what his brother needed to bring him back from the brink whenever Madara managed to throw him off the wagon.

"I wonder what it is about Sakura-chan that attracts you all?" he chuckled after a beat of silence. "Even the murderous Sabaku no Gaara is unable to resist her call."

That likely wouldn't have been the case had Gaara met Sakura while she was still human. Back when she was as defenceless, clumsy and weak as she was heartfelt, compassionate and devoted. While human, Sakura couldn't even kill a spider without feeling immense guilt, despite the fact they had given her the creeps and made it impossible for her to sleep in the same room as one.

"Maybe she's a siren," Shisui continued, unaware that Itachi was no longer listening as he lost himself in his memories.

Idly swirling the whisky in his glass, he recalled the heart that was once so intense with its loving of another. "She has a heart big enough for our entire family," her mother often stated with great pride. "She can touch even the coldest of hearts," her father always added on with the widest grin.

Prior to meeting Sakura, Itachi rarely allowed himself to ruminate on his wrongdoings or the immoral acts of his clansmen. He knew doing so would drive him insane with the guilt, and so he struggled until he managed to lock it all away.

He couldn't overcome or lock away the guilt that festered within him, that tore him apart from the moment he came across their butchered remains.

At the scalding memory of finding them, Itachi shot back his whisky and shut his eyes in resignation.

Nothing.

"Itachi," his cousin sighed.

"Hm?"

"Talk to me." When he looked back to him, Shisui was lowering his book with a minute frown. A rarity, considering his personal mission to complete every book he came across. "You know I will always listen to you, no matter what."

Their promise to each other that they made as children. Long before vampirism threatened all that they were, back when they were as innocent as children growing up in such a war-torn era could be.

They were inseparable as children and to that day, Shisui continued to be the one Itachi trusted most. It was after the deaths of his parents that his cousin was placed into Fugaku's guardianship and from there, their friendship deepened. They were never one without the other. And when they were old enough to join the battles for territory, they did so as one. There wasn't a single battle they lost when together.

"Sakura is…" The words died on his thickening tongue and Itachi swallowed, willing away the emotions attempting to overcome him. "My Sakura is still in there."

"What if she is?" he questioned, not unkindly. "What happens if that version comes back to the surface?"

The only answer Itachi could think of made him sound like a lovestruck fool, though he supposed that wasn't all too far from the truth. Not when Sakura continued to dominate his every thought. Hell, Itachi couldn't even lose himself in the body of another without being assaulted by the blaring differences.

Sensing there would be no vocal answer as his distant gaze remained fixed on the empty glass, Shisui offered another sigh and sat up in his seat. The book was shut with a sharp snap that brought Itachi back to the present, and when he looked to him, he found his cousin settling him with a serious expression, eyebrow raising fractionally.

"You know that I have never agreed with any of your choices when it comes to Sakura-chan," he stated with no hesitation and hearing the words, he backed off like a coward and returned to the bar for another drink in the hopes it would finally help him feel something other than the harrowing emptiness. "So, I am going to say exactly what you don't want to, but need, to hear."

Again, there was nothing and he dropped the glass back to the bar uncaringly, reaching for a stronger beverage.

"I'm sorry to say it, but you may have truly lost her, Itachi. You cannot treat someone you claim to love as harshly as you have and expect there to be no bad blood lingering between you." Glancing to his cousin from the corner of his eye as Itachi poured himself another drink, he was saddened to have his thoughts confirmed as Shisui murmured, "Even if you miraculously manage to salvage what is left of your relationship and bring your Sakura-chan back to the surface, what you did cannot be undone. In her eyes, it can never be forgiven, either."

Had he been cursed? Was that why he continued to feel so lost and empty? Or was this his first experience of raw heartbreak? After all, until meeting Sakura, Itachi did not believe in true love or soulmates. They didn't exist, especially not for him.

He should have known it was never meant for somebody like him.

But how cruel of fate to grant him such love only to take it away after so little time together.

They were supposed to have forever – that was what they promised each other. Multiple lifetimes of happiness and love and watching their family grow. For the first time since being unwillingly turned, Itachi didn't resent what he was. The prospect of forever was no longer daunting, because he had her by his side and making him whole. Maybe it was the heightened emotions talking, but Itachi sincerely believed that until she came along, he was living as only half a person.

"Do you believe in marriage?" she asked later that night, eyes full of wary hope and eagerness.

It was such an endearing sight to behold that Itachi felt no remorse for reaching out with a hand that had been coated in the blood of thousands, selfishly wishing to experience more of her.

"Not before you," he confessed in a whisper.

Leaning forward, he pressed a delicate kiss to her bare shoulder before taking a moment to admire the soft slope of her pale neck. The moonlight spilling in from the open balcony doors reached all the way to their four-poster bed and had her appearing almost ethereal. Itachi couldn't resist kissing her once more, hand gliding through her hair.

He could never explain the hold she had over him. The unhealthy, damn-it-all type of love that had him banishing all rational thoughts to try and offer up everything he had to give.

"That so?" came her airy response, giving into his touch.

"Back in the era I was raised, marriage was supposed to be forever," Itachi continued and guided Sakura into joining him in raising onto their knees on the bed so that he could continue to admire her naked form, his hands caressing their way over her sensitive skin and breaking it out in goosebumps. Their first time, he hadn't been able to show so much attention to her body due to her personal insecurities, and he adored the confidence that now shone in her eyes after almost a year of being together. "But it was also an era submerged in death and hatred. Nothing lasted forever. Not for us, even being what we are."

She was accepting of him when their lips came together with barely restrained hunger, and not for the first time Itachi reminded himself of how delicate she was. Fighting his supernatural instincts had never been easier, however. And so he immersed himself in her touch, and his touching her. Allowed himself to get lost in everything she had to offer.

"But then I met you, my love," he whispered against her lips, revelling in the delighted gasp at the meeting of their hips. Itachi didn't lean back too far to meet her eye, his body thrumming with its urgent need for her and demanding they remained wrapped up in one another. "You have become my forever."

"Forever," she repeated.

He felt drunk from their kiss, that lightheaded sensation on exploding to euphoric heights when Itachi lowered her back to the bed to help himself to the space between her thighs.

Forever was torture when living as only half a person.

…And now he was back to that torture.

"Even if she is still in there, Sakura-chan is a new person now. Don't be so cruel as to take her back to such suffering. The way she lost her parents is…" Lost for words, Shisui shook his head with an empathetic frown, eyes drawn to the daylight ring that was once his father's wedding band. It never left his person even before being turned into a vampire, and Itachi knew that the matching band that was his mother's awaited the person he chose as his own. "Fifty years has lost all meaning on us old men who are well over a thousand years old," marvelled Shisui and he offered a sigh. "Sakura-chan is not the same woman she once was, Itachi. Fifty years changes a person and she has used that time to grow stronger."

To hell with it, he thought miserably and swiped the entire bottle, bringing it with him back to his seat opposite his cousin.

Although it was morning, the thick curtains that stretched the entirety of the eleven-foot-high ceiling to floor distance were firmly shut, refusing to allow even a glimmer of sunlight to pass through. Quite the brooding atmosphere when one didn't take the rest of the gaudily designed room into consideration, Itachi remarked and sat back more comfortably in his seat, pretending not to hear the owner sounding her leave as she went about her day as compelled to do so.

"You compelled her to focus solely on anger, betrayal and revenge for the past fifty years," Shisui reminded him – like he even needed a reminder of his greatest mistake. "Can you really say now that you are surprised Sakura-chan chooses to fall back on those emotions? They have become her safety, in a sense. They are what guided her through the loss of her parents and your relationship."

But to block out all other emotions to only see the negative was… How could Sakura ever find happiness or feel fulfilled with her life?

"In her eyes, perhaps they are the only parts of herself that feel real after your manipulation."

"Madara will kill her–"

"Maybe so," Shisui relented, though there was no mistaking how troubled he felt while agreeing with him when it showed so clearly in his deep frown. "But going up against Madara is Sakura-chan's choice to make, Itachi. Not yours. Let her be."

He refused. No matter what it cost him, even if she didn't want the assistance, he would devote every fibre of his being to keeping Sakura safe.

He refused to permanently lose the better half of him.

Like Shisui could read his thoughts, he added, "The Sakura-chan we knew was dependent on you. This Sakura-chan isn't."

Itachi was all for Sakura gaining her independence, hence the reasoning behind his specific wording when compelling her. It was part of the reason why he changed her also. As a human, she was so vulnerable and fragile, but as a vampire boasted speed and strength. There were several lifetimes to learn new skills and live out her endless dreams, no longer burdened by the short lifespan of humans.

"There is a difference between being independent and being suicidal."

But she hadn't completed one. Hadn't lived out any of her dreams.

It was his fault too.

"That's not our place to say, I'm afraid."

A vicious swell of despair had Itachi taking a larger swig of the alcohol he'd grabbed, and Shisui was unmoving, unsurprised, when he abruptly lost his patience and launched the bottle at the furthest wall with enough strength to shatter the glass.

"Respect her wishes, Itachi," Shisui insisted blandly, glancing in the direction of the soaked panelling. "And this house too. We are guests here."

"We are sitting around when we should be devising a plan," he argued.

He sighed wearily. "Itachi–"

A knock that they could only describe as sluggish was swiftly replaced by a cheerful and upbeat shave-and-a-haircut. The two separate knocks had them meeting the other's eyes suspiciously, knowing that if they spoke in that moment, their conversation posed the risk of being overheard by whoever was on the other side of the door, if it hadn't already.

Eventually, when the resounding silence grew too suspicious to remain so laidback, Shisui sighed irritably and demanded, "Who could that possibly be?" His expression conveyed his displeasure, though he made no move to answer the door. "If Sasuke has ordered his idea of room service again…"

It would be down to him to open it, it seemed, and Itachi held back his weariness as he languorously made his way over to the entryway. "He should know better by now."

Fortunately for his apparently now-lazy cousin who refused to move from his seat by the fire, the entryway opened up into the lounge and allowed him an obscured view of their guests. Even if it wasn't the whole picture, it was enough to satisfy his curiosity.

The door itself was grossly oversized as they tended to be in the majority of mansions, reminding him of the home he'd obtained purely for the sake of becoming a family home both in colour and size. No amount of mental shaking banished the treacherous thoughts that threatened his composure and Itachi had to admit, he was more forceful than necessary while swinging the door open.

But then he blinked in surprise at the hand that was protruding from the owner's chest he'd been inside of over twenty-five minutes earlier, stomach churning as Itachi damned himself for having a weak heart. Allowing the woman freedom to come and go as she pleased was instantly a deep regret of his even with how wretched she was, and Itachi silently sent her his apologies as the light faded from her terrified eyes and she fell to her knees.

Even if she was a horrific human being, she was still a person.

Although he had to say, coming face to face with none other than Sakura quickly took his mind off the dead human.

"Hello, love," she muttered bitingly, smirk devious as she effortlessly flooded his mind with memories by licking the blood from her hand with a single swipe of her tongue, humming appreciatively while savouring the taste as she once had with him. "We need to talk."

A/N - More insight to the tormented Itachi! I also decided to update a little earlier than planned due to how short these two chapters have been in comparison to the others.

Thank you for those of you who wished me well. My day thankfully got better!