Never once did the wind fail, once the gods had set it blowing.

If someone had told Sakura that she would once again find herself in the company of an Uchiha, she may have believed such a thing. She'd thought, at one time, that Sasuke would arrive at Orochimaru's hideout and that they might train together. Of course that was a foolish hope, but this turn of events had given her pause regardless. What was more surprising, though, was that where Sasuke was aloof, Itachi was downright menacing.

These men, Sakura quickly learned, were members of an organization called Akatsuki. She had heard the name only in passing in Orochimaru's estate, but her former master typically silenced all mention of it in a rare fit of what she always thought was jealousy.

From the very aura these two men gave off, though, she began to wonder if it was more like humiliation for the old man.

Though, she'd also discovered that really only Kisame qualified as a man. Itachi was barely seventeen years old, and that knowledge only served to make her more cautious than she had been at first. He spoke little, and their first few days on the road he did not look at her even once. She kept her head down, believing that the menacing air he exuded was not necessarily intentional...but she wasn't willing to put that to the test, either.

These two were in need of a medic, so she was told, and while she maintained her fair share of suspicion, she thought it was a reasonable enough excuse. While Itachi spent most of their evenings sipping crudely-made tea and sitting off by himself, Kisame chatted lightly with Sakura. He was her main source of all of the information she'd gathered thus far, and she came to know him as a man of simple tastes, despite his not-at-all-simple appearance.

He liked to eat cooked fish that were so charred they were blackened almost entirely. He was at least somewhat polite, if not just curious, as he asked how she liked her meat, pulling a fish or rabbit off of their little fire for her when it was done to her liking. He asked after the deep red colors she liked to wear, and sometimes—when it was her turn to take watch—he would stay up late with Itachi playing some traditional chess-like game, both of them quiet for long stretches of time before making a move.

Itachi, though, remained a closed book.

Of course there was always that deeply rooted fear in her, her old feelings of inadequacy amplified by recent events. She was worried that they, too, were using her to lure in other people—be it Sasuke or the rest of her old team or even her former master. Or perhaps their goal was to lure her somewhere dangerous.

If they wanted to kill us, her inner self would grumble, they could've just done it already.

The three took rotating turns in staying up on watch, similarly to official missions she'd go on back home. With every inch of her being she loathed it, especially after her first taste of true freedom the few weeks before she'd stumbled upon them and opened her mouth like a total idiot. They did not make her privy to where exactly they were headed, but they were traveling back down towards Fire Country, if her estimations were correct.

One evening as they settled into camp, Sakura walked as far from them as she dared and took to practicing punches and kicks and dodges with a clone, as she usually did. It had been just over a week on the road with the two rogue nin, and she did not know what exactly changed as Kisame approached her with a curious look on that horrifying face of his. He wore shinobi attire of deep lavender and off-whites, his embroidered black cloak probably lying on the ground back at camp.

"Shall we spar, little Sakura-san?" he asked, reaching up to brush his fingers along the hilt of his mighty sword.

She would never admit it, but she was very curious to know why he kept his blade wrapped in bandage-like cloth. With a purse of her lips she looked him up and down, and just as she'd done with Kabuto time and time again, she taunted Kisame with a smirk. But where Four-eyes' honorifics always seemed forced and insincere, there was something strange in the way Fish Face spoke that sounded so oddly genuine. Besides, his appearance was too easy a target—surely all his life he'd had classmates and teammates and enemies cracking wise about those shark teeth of his.

"All right, aniki," she said, shifting to a defensive stance as her clone disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Give me all you've got."

He narrowed his strange eyes at her, likely unsure what to make of her use of a nickname like big brother. But he pulled the blade from his back, and the two stood still for a long moment, watching. He was big and tall, but she knew that didn't necessarily mean he would be slow. She calculated as quickly as she could, landing on the conclusion that she should strike first.

In the blink of an eye she'd unsheathed her straight sword and lunged at him, but as expected, he was fast; he'd pulled a kunai and clashed with her precise swings right on time. Whenever she spied an opening, he shifted his posture, ducking down or raising his arm to throw off his own balance and keep her from striking him. He swung out his leg, trying to sweep her to the ground, and she dodged with a graceful backflip—but damn, what if his intention had been exactly that, to create this distance?

For safety's sake, she began to cast a genjutsu. Orochimaru had only recently taught her the art of concealing hand signs, effectively casting a small illusion to trick one's opponent into seeing different seals than the caster was actually making, and she heard Kisame give a humorless chuckle.

Then, he was on her in a flash.

While Sakura preferred to use her sword as an opener, it seemed that Kisame preferred to keep his own for the main performance. She guessed that he wasn't keen on letting her finish weaving those seals, and with that great blade in his hands he swung at her. It was an easy enough dodge with such a lumbering swoop, but she felt a fraction of her chakra strip away as she bounded to the right.

If one of the sword's properties was such an effect on chakra, she would need to be careful. She already felt too cautious to use her Wood Release, worried it would attract unneeded scrutiny (or worse, interest) from her two new companions. She would stick with her straight sword for now, the setup for the illusion finished. She preferred to win her battles through her own prowess and skill, and would only activate the genjutsu if absolutely necessary.

Long ago her former master had taught her that any weapon should be seen as an extension of the self, and she was used to channeling her energy through her fist and up into the blade, enhancing its reach, precision, and sharp edge. She tested her theory, aiming a jab at his midsection that he easily blocked with his own sword's wide body, and sure enough she felt that same sensation as before, the chakra leaving her reserves. In a way, it felt like when her wooden snakes had made contact with Naruto's powerful Nine-Tails' chakra—sapped, or more accurately, feeding.

In the small moment she'd taken to deliberate, he took a swing at her leg. She could not well let him eat away at her chakra, and that layer of it she kept around her at all times put her in a particularly vulnerable position; for all of her overthinking she did not dodge in time, and she caught the sinister grin on his face just before he gave the hilt a sharp yank, where the blade cut through her baggy, traditional-style pants and raked painfully across her thigh as the wraps fell away to reveal strange, thick scales that made her think of a dragon straight out of a fantasy book.

She hissed, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Immediately she channeled healing chakra to the wound, but the direct contact his sword had made with her skin had drained her active supply considerably. The wound closed, but she hadn't enough energy to spare to stop the pain. She balked, not willing to believe at first that she would need to tap into the reserves built up behind her forehead. With her brows furrowed she faced him with a newfound respect, the fire of competition hot in her heart.

It'll feel good to whoop his ass, Inner said with a grin.

She reached into her pouch, feeling for the chakra-infused explosive tags there. She could easily expend just a fraction of her reserves to activate the genjutsu, but now it was about the principle of winning without relying on it. She was plenty fast enough to dodge any more hits he could throw, but she would need all of her concentration.

But just before she moved to toss the kunai at him, a hand had caught her wrist with such incredible speed that she knew there was no way it was Kisame's.

Itachi was there, his cloak similarly left behind at camp, and he held both hers and the other man's arms securely in his fists. She did not miss that he trembled slightly at the force of both of their power, but something told her she shouldn't push for the limits of his strength.

"That's enough," he commanded in that uninterested tone of his. Kisame was the first to back off, and Sakura followed in kind. "No need to draw attention towards us over a spar. You two would've been going at it for some time, anyway."

"Oh?" came Kisame's curious reply. "Is that so, Itachi-san?"

"Quite." The two of them turned and made back for camp as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all, and with a suck of her teeth Sakura hurried after them. "She was close to trapping you in genjutsu." Had he been watching them?

Kisame turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Was she? Samehada seemed to get a mouthful off her."

"She's skilled," Itachi said flatly, "in keeping hidden her reserves. They seem to be quite massive."

Sakura had mixed feelings. That an Uchiha was complimenting her so openly made her feel equal parts smug and flustered, but the two of them were talking about her as if she wasn't there, and that grated on her nerves.

"You named your sword?" she asked then, not caring if she ran the risk of offending Kisame.

"No," he said with a shrug, turning back to face the path before them. "That's just what it's called. It's a living thing, you know, and won't stand for being disrespected."

"It ate my chakra," she said with a purse of her lips. If she was going to respect it, she'd do so begrudgingly. "Hard to imagine you having respect for anything."

"Strength," he explained, "and honesty are among my top concerns."

"Funny, aniki, coming from you. When are either of you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Concealing information isn't dishonesty," Kisame said plainly. "Besides, we arrive tomorrow afternoon. You'll know then."

The very next morning, Sakura rose with the sun to find Kisame still snoozing on the ground, and Itachi sitting by a nearby pond. It was very much not where he'd been when she'd fallen asleep (and Oh, how gracious our captors are for letting us get some shut-eye, her inner self had deadpanned), and she knew that what Kisame said upon their first meeting was true: Itachi was the meditative type.

But every morning he would find a spot far away at which to sit and reflect, and Sakura had enough tact to know that meant not to bother him. Now, though, he was nearby, and she watched him carefully. Much of him was still a mystery, and so far she'd managed to keep down her curiosity. She'd never been told, explicitly anyway, that he was an Uchiha, but the resemblance to Sasuke was far too uncanny for him to be anything else. There was also that she'd sometimes heard the name Itachi when Orochimaru and Kabuto discussed bodies, and he'd even been mentioned in passing during her recent fight with Team 7.

If Sasuke was known to be the only survivor of the massacre, though, she wondered what that made Itachi. And though she had a feeling that the truth was something far beyond her current comprehension of the world...

Well, she reasoned, her two best friends had been made through the power of being bold. Thank whatever gods that be for Ino's expertise gracing her at such a young age.

Quietly she dressed and approached him, noting that he did not flinch or bristle or turn. Someone like him must be on edge at all times, she guessed, though she couldn't pretend she didn't understand such a thing. Her time spent with Orochimaru and the many children and missing nin who played and trained in the other compounds had greatly familiarized her with the concept of a frightened animal.

She stopped a few healthy yards from him, dropping to her knees on the sandy bank of the pond. Something like good morning didn't feel quite right, especially as such a gentle breeze and birdsong sounded overhead, and some small bubbles from playful fish popped over the water's otherwise calm surface. It was much too nice for her to break such a tranquil scene too early.

Damn, she thought. This guy really knew how to pick a good spot to meditate.

She crossed her legs, not bothering to keep her stance very formal as she began her breathing exercises. She shut her eyes, focusing on her chakra that had, thankfully, fully recovered from that gash she'd gotten from Samehada the night before. It was not long, though, before Itachi spoke.

"You're from Konoha."

His voice sounded so much like Sasuke's that she swallowed, and to be addressed by him so directly after so many days of him speaking mainly to Kisame was intimidating. She kept her eyes closed as she gave her simple answer.

"Yeah." He could be prying for information on where her loyalties lie, or perhaps digging for information on whoever they were using her to get to.

For a long while he didn't speak, and she listened to the sound of his breathing. It was even, but she noticed that the very end of his inhales were strained, as if he were constantly fighting against a cough. Whatever disease he had, it'd been far too long since he'd taken proper care of it, and it was a good thing she'd stumbled upon him when she did.

"So am I."

Yeah, no shit. Just what was his angle?

"And...you spoke of someone named Sasuke." His tone held just a hint of an awkward tone, and she realized that maybe whatever had him constantly on his guard had worn down his ability to talk normally to people. She softened a bit, and gave him as honest an answer as she could.

"I thought you were him. I've been worried that might've offended you, so I'm sorry if it did."

"No," he said. "Not at all. I'm pleased to know that he was able to find people who treat him kindly."

She said nothing, but opened her eyes to stare out over the water. She knew little of Sasuke, truly, and even less of the massacre itself, but she felt a swelling sadness in her heart to think that someone like this had clearly cared about him from afar. Where had Itachi been, then, that horrible night?

She sucked her teeth, diving further into her analysis of what he'd said. She knew well enough that the truth was likely that in running away to Orochimaru, she'd managed to piss Sasuke off just as she always had. Naruto and the other boys had gone through hell and back to bring him home, just for her to waltz right on out. That wasn't very kind of her, and that was only at the tip of the iceberg of the list of dumb shit she'd said to him over their short time on the same team back home.

There's hope for you yet, he'd said, wearing a look of compassion she'd never before seen on his face.

"Will you tell me?" Itachi asked then, and though she was too nervous to look, she could feel his eyes on her. "What is the nature of your relationship with him?"

Oh.

"S—Sasuke-kun is, um...well, I—he..."

Damn was it embarrassing to think back on her own childlike stupidity, that obsession over her old teammate to the point where she'd made a fool of herself and even jeopardized missions. Part of why she'd even wanted to excel at being a ninja in the first place was because of Sasuke, to not be any more a hindrance to him than she already was. How ridiculous...! Her thoughts were scrambled; it was not like talking to Karin, girl-to-girl, someone who understood those feelings. Clearly the question had been asked for different reasons, and she—

It was truly in the next possible instant that Itachi was at her side, sucked dry of that awkward, borderline likable attitude from the very moment before. He'd moved with such speed that she hadn't even seen it happen, and all of her battle sense left her to realize just how powerful he was. Indeed if he'd wanted her dead, he would've done it before she could even blink.

With a gaze intense enough to kill he stared down into her own eyes, which had gone wide in her confusion and growing fear. He knelt in such a way that she was trapped there between his knees, and as he brought his hand to her face she thought of Orochimaru preparing to slice into the flesh of one of his dead captives.

He brought his thumb and index finger to her parted lips, slipping past them and into her mouth where he took hold of the tip of her tongue. Any semblance of her will to fight back had been shocked into a silence so whole that she scarcely knew how to breathe anymore, to be violated in such a deeply personal way. Even Orochimaru always asked before touching her! Itachi tugged, pulling her tongue so far out of her mouth that she blushed atop her furrowed brows, and he examined the back of it for a long moment before shutting his eyes and releasing her.

"Forgive me," he said, sitting down on his knees like nothing more than a demure handmaiden. Sakura was utterly bewildered; it was like a switch had been flicked on and off for how greatly the very air around him changed. "The Leaf has many ways to keep secrets from spilling, and it's rumored that you left quietly. Given your inability to speak of a former comrade, I needed to be sure."

If you already knew all that, Inner spat, what the hell was the point of asking...!

"I did leave quietly," she said, her composure quickly returning despite whatever-the-hell-that-just-was, "but I did it of my own volition." She pursed her lips, looking out again over the water. "Trust me, I was far too talentless back then for anyone to use me as some super spy."

He regarded her seriously, letting his silence speak for itself.

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed, "those are the best kinds of people to make into an unknowing agent. Look, I...had a crush on Sasuke-kun, okay? You know what that is, right? It's weird to talk about something like that with an older guy, that's all."

It took a beat longer than she'd expected, but an understanding crossed his features. Something not unlike a smile—a very small smile—appeared on his lips for a short moment, and then he was back to looking bored.

What the hell is with this guy? What had he gotten up to in Konoha that she'd never even heard his name? And to be checking someone's tongue for tools of espionage, she fought a shudder to wonder at the things he'd likely seen in his time there. The silence between them dragged on, and for Sakura it was too weird to sit here saying nothing after a reaction like that, and she forced her voice as normal as possible.

"What about you? I don't mean to assume, but you two must be related." With her palm she gestured over her whole face. "The resemblance is pretty wild."

"Our relationship is quite complicated." The wind tousled his hair, his fringe blowing past his face and his long, flowing ponytail cascading behind him. He spared one last glance to the water before pushing the hair from his eyes, meeting hers directly. "But indeed, your observations are correct. Sasuke, you see, is my little brother."