Fool(s), not to comprehend that (they were) she was already in the grip of death.

"Where are we going?" Sakura asked, so tired she was close to whining.

After her successful preservation of Gaara's life, Itachi and Kisame wasted no time in waking her the very same night, just a few hours after she'd passed out. Her only source of information came from Kisame, who said with a wave of his hand that the Konoha nin had scampered off with their tails between their legs. Then the men had let Sakura recoup for as long as they could spare, and here they were on the road.

That told her next to nothing, though.

"Pein expects us at a secret rendezvous point." It was Kisame again who'd answered, halting in his step to let Sakura catch up to him under the light of the moon. Itachi kept his steady pace on the wooded trail, not bothering even to look back. There was a strange tension to his silence, and she flinched to recall the way he sounded when he spoke to Team 7.

"Where, though?" she pressed instead, eager for conversation—to think of anything but that afternoon.

He shrugged. "Both Itachi-san and the boss have doujutsu. I assume the location was communicated that way."

"So now you're fine with him keeping secrets from us?"

His laugh was short as he shook his head. "You're more talkative than you were the last time. The afterglow of victory got you excited, little sis?"

Pestering Kisame with questions had always been her way of forcing more serious things from her mind. She pursed her lips in thought, knowing she was doing her very best not to think about Team 7, and especially not Sasuke.

Itachi isn't—

She blinked once harshly, unable to comprehend it. Surely Sasuke's panic was for her safety, but Itachi had shown her nothing but a gentle kindness, despite his ruthlessness in battle. If he really was the man Sasuke was vowed to kill, it must have been due to his absence, his failure to protect his family.

It surely would explain the blanket of melancholy radiating from Itachi right now.

"It is complicated," Kisame said then, almost under his breath.

She looked up into his monstrous face as they walked side by side, curious to listen.

"The things that I do without question, as long as the order comes from Itachi-san. I don't quite understand it myself."

Frowning slightly, her gaze settled back down on the dirt path before her, Itachi's back close to disappearing beyond the horizonline beneath the stars. "Maybe he's got you under a genjutsu."

"Not me," he said with one last chuckle.

Their steps were in sync as they trudged along in silence for a while longer, until she could bear no more to keep her concern concealed. "Is he okay?"

"Seeing that kid brother of his"—he lifted his arm, readjusting the thick belt of Samehada's holster that wrapped around his mighty chest—"always puts him in a state of reflection. But can you blame him?" With a grunt, his hands fell back at his sides. "We do what we must to get by. To sleep at night. It is to my great shame, but even I keep secrets, little Sakura-san."

They walked the rest of the night without saying another word. They'd eventually caught up to Itachi, whose silence grew more and more palpable as the night broke into a cold, blue dawn.

"Oi," she said as the sun turned the sky from that chilly blue into pinks and oranges. "Shouldn't we stop to make camp?"

Nothing, not even from Kisame.

"Oi, oi!" she yelled, feeling Inner's anger rise in the pit of her stomach. "I asked you—"

Itachi had stopped and turned to her in a fraction of a second, his movements sharp as if she'd just made a move to attack him. He stared down at her from atop his black collar, his expression so severe that she felt small, like little more than a child freshly scolded.

But Inner's defiance took hold. "So you'll talk my ear off and fuck me in Tsukuyomi, but when you have to face the real world, this is how you act?"

A choked sound of surprise came from Kisame's throat, and instinctively he slowed his steps to trail behind them again, giving them space. Not that she cared what he heard, nor what he may have already guessed of the nature of her relationship with Itachi.

"If it's something going on with Sasuke-kun," she continued hotly, "then talk to me about it. They still want me to come home. Can't we figure this out and—"

With a rough shove she found her back against the nearest tree, the pale, skinny forearm of her lover across her throat as if it were a blade. Her anger was searing within her, but just before she could yell her curses at him, his serious gaze shifted to the side. He produced a kunai so quickly she barely saw it, deflecting an oncoming projectile in a flash. At once her battle instincts kicked in, her senses on their highest alert.

"Who is it?" she called, gripping at her straight sword. She sucked in a breath, trying to center herself. The fatigue from yesterday's jutsu was still upon her, the headache and nausea not quite gone. Her chakra had replenished somewhat, but not nearly enough for a battle! And to fight when she was so frustrated with a friend was sure to cloud her mind and dampen her skills.

But Itachi was off of her and weaving hand signs at a blinding speed, small fireballs flinging out from his mouth hard as hail pelting down in a storm. Kisame's head darted in every direction, listening for something with his fingertips grazing Samehada's hilt.

"There you are!" he roared, heaving the greatsword down in a wide arc. It deflected in that single swoop a barrage of rocks, some earth-style technique flung at him from within the dense forest.

Sakura held the middle ground between her team, but the sudden chaos had disoriented her. She realized, though, that perhaps that was the plan of their attackers all along—and sure enough, when she spun to watch her back, her heart all but stopped beating.

Flying at her like lightning was Orochimaru's outstretched neck, an unhinged look on his face as he closed in on her.

Through her nose she breathed evenly, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Even through exhaustion her chakra control and overall prowess would not fail, of that she was sure. She had to be sure. She watched as if in slow motion as he grew nearer and nearer, and with a small flick of her thumb she unsheathed the very blade her old master had given her himself.

It took only one clean strike to sever his head from his unnaturally serpentine neck.

The head soared through the air, but of course there was no blood spiraling from it. Even as it landed on the moss-covered ground and rolled, the sickening thud of it making her wrinkle her face in disgust, she knew he would never be so easily killed.

"How interesting," said the head, just before it began to rot and dissolve into the earth. From before her the real Orochimaru suddenly stood, finishing the thought. "You have a talent, Sakura-kun, for making friends of monsters."

She made to defend herself, angling her sword in front of her face. "I don't want to fight you."

"No," he agreed with a patronizing click of his tongue, "I'm sure you don't. But before that, I simply cannot sit by, my dear, and not point out your startling hypocrisy."

Her limbs began to tingle, her nerves electrified in her growing anxiety. "Excuse me?"

He took a single step towards her. "You said it yourself: there is something wrong with the ways of a world that trains children as killers. Are you blind to the company you keep, girl?"

Of course she'd known Kisame was a comrade-killer from the start, but when first she'd met him and Itachi, she was given little choice if she wanted to stay alive. That she'd befriended him hadn't been a part of her original plans, but perhaps she could change him. That had to be the reason she'd become so close to him...! She'd seen goodness in him, hadn't she?

Orochimaru's chuckle was deep and as sincere as it'd been in her memories. "You think I mean the Hoshigaki boy alone." She heard the sounds of battle around her; she was certain he'd brought along Kabuto, who was likely rushing her teammates with everything he had. This was their fourth day in a row without rest, and he might've had an advantage because of that. "Heavens, Sakura-kun. I still wonder what they teach you children in Konoha. Is it finally time for me to tell you the truth of things, as I promised?"

There was a growl in her throat, her face twisting up in anger. Orochimaru took an offensive stance, his smile as demented as his laughter.

"How I've missed you, my child," he said through that sneer, "and that deadly look in your eyes!"

He'd lunged, and when she produced her sword he sent a swift kick to her hand, knocking it from her grasp. Disarmed, she switched immediately to taijutsu and tapped into her chakra reserves to activate Wood Release for good measure. They clashed at the knuckles and wrists and elbows, each blow rattling her bones and sending stinging throbs into her already-aching skull. He flipped out of the way when she sent a sweeping kick at his ankles, rushing back in at her with no mercy.

Just to have her back under his thumb, he was going this far, giving it his all? The gnarled roots she sent careening towards him were ducked and dodged with all of his fluid grace, their fight spitting them back out to the main road where, as she'd suspected, Kabuto held his ground against Kisame. Samehada had grazed him, a jagged hole ripped through his tunic at the waist. If he were too drained of his chakra, his self-healing powers would be dulled to near uselessness. In her throat was a cry she had to hold back; she did not know for whom to be concerned.

Of course Orochimaru would capitalize on her distraction. She heard the snapping of his jaw coming lose, and knew that the sword-bearing snake was coming toward her. Channeling what chakra she had left into her fist, she moved to swat it away—but then her own sword flew through the air with a high-pitched whir, piercing the snake-tongue and pinning it to the ground where it writhed in agony.

Then Itachi was there, standing over her and glaring down at Orochimaru with a look that could kill. In the commotion, Kisame pulled Kabuto against his chest, trapping him there with Samehada at his throat.

"Move," Kisame said in warning, "and I will shred your head from your shoulders. Slowly."

Itachi's Sharingan was activated again, and blood streamed down his face from one of those eyes as he stared at her old master. Without breaking eye contact, he stooped and roughly yanked her sword from the snake, extending it back to her. She took it, almost unsure what to do next.

"I will have you in time," Orochimaru murmured then, and when his golden snake-eyes shifted towards Itachi, he leapt at him in the same instant. Something had happened, though, just before he'd closed the gap between them. The two of them were suddenly very still as if frozen in time, Orochimaru's fingers splayed right in front of Itachi's face as if he were planning to peel the skin straight from it.

The seconds ticked on and on, and Sakura's heart beat faster and harder in her chest, pounding in her ears.

Just what the hell's going on? Inner cried, her aura laced with worry.

As quickly as they'd frozen there, Orochimaru's body fell limp to the ground with a sad thump.

Itachi looked to Kabuto, still caught pressed between Samehada and Kisame's chest. With little enthusiasm he commanded, "Release him."

The moment Kisame did as he was told, Kabuto fell to his knees on the dirt, clutching at his throat as he heaved hacking breaths in and out. As the color returned to his face he straightened and staggered forth, placing his hands on Orochimaru. When he found no vitals, the very air around him shifted to a strange calmness that Sakura did not understand.

Their master's body was lying there unmoving, and she felt all manner of things to look upon it. This was the man who had kidnapped countless people, performing who knew how many unknown horrors onto them in the name of science and research. He was ruthless when he wanted to be, but she had seen also the grace with which he walked, the gentle way he would ask certain apprentices for assistance. He sipped bitter tea each morning after meditation, and sometimes needed to be pried from his books and research and told to sleep. He was the greatest mind she'd ever known, and it was through his belief in her abilities that she'd been able to grow as much as she had.

To see him lying there dead seemed impossible, and somehow, even though the physical evidence before her was undeniable, she knew he was not entirely gone. Not for good.

Four-eyes took Orochimaru in his arms, and then was gone in a flash as Kisame sucked his teeth disapprovingly.

"This pacifist streak is concerning, Itachi-san. We could've taken him out."

Itachi said nothing, his red eyes spinning as their enhanced power faded. The three of them stood there quietly, the silence unwelcome after the sudden commotion. Sakura, trying to catch her breath in her aching lungs, resisted the urge to sink to the ground and vomit from overexertion.

Kisame simply grunted in resignation. "Just be sure to wipe the blood from your face."

The ambush had not been particularly devastating in the sense of their bodies. They were tired, yes, but they'd been tired for days. Just as her breaths began to calm and Kisame secured his sword once again on his back, Itachi said only one last thing...

"We will stop to rest only when night falls once more."

...before he turned, his cloak catching in the morning breeze, and took to the path as if nothing at all had happened.

But as she stared at his back, a stark silhouette against the still-rising sun, she wondered if it had been Orochimaru's goal all along to sow within her the seed of doubt that was quickly growing beyond her control.