Chapter 6: where does it hurt?

"later that night

i held an atlas in my lap

ran my fingers across the whole world

and whispered

where does it hurt?

It answered

everywhere

everywhere

everywhere."

- Warsan Shire

Mebuki isn't usually angry. She's upset, disappointed, annoyed – yes. But never angry. And never at Sakura, for that matter.

The afternoon sun streams through the parted light blue cotton curtains, forming rectangles on the flowery carpet. Sakura focuses on that, twisting her fingers, the dark shadowed borders, the silhouette of a butterfly fluttering restlessly.

"Sakura. Sakura? Are you listening?"

The butterfly comes into view suddenly, zooming over the carpets, settling down on sewn flower after sewn flower, confused and impatient. Eventually, it realises that humans are artificial pieces of crap, designed to fool nature into thinking they're worthy of her time.

At least, Sakura thinks that's what the butterfly surely must have concluded.

She looks up. "Did you know that space has a smell?"

Her parents stare back. A few moments tick by. Mebuki is the first one to shake herself out of it, appearing exhausted of Sakura's shit. Her father, Kizashi, sighs heavily and goes to sit on the couch, head buried in his palms.

"Sakura," Mebuki sounds exasperated. "You hit someone. Do you realise that? You caused harm to another individual. Can you please tell us what happened? We want to understand what happened."

The boy is two years older than I am. He had more meat on him than Sakura and Lee combined.

"It's the smell of dying stars," she explains. "The space smells of dying stars."

He said I was too dumb and too pretty to be taken seriously.

Mebuki joins Kizashi on the couch. She turns to bury her head under his chin, eyes shut. Sakura watches them, wanting a hug of her own but knowing she has no right to ask for it, not when she just kicked someone in the balls.

Kizashi lifts his head. He throws her a smile, a fond but tired one. Opens his other arm in an invitation.

She rushes forward.

"I fucked up."

Temari doesn't react. She has completely shut down, stone cold, and Sakura believes she deserves nothing less. At least Karin was kind enough to leave them alone, albeit with a strong distrustful look thrown towards Sakura.

Now it's just Temari and her, standing in a light flurry of fresh snowflakes, lit up from the fairy lights. The other side is encased in shadows before giving way to an array of dancing baubles hung from the neighbour's house.

Sakura doesn't dare step closer. Her bones are freezing, lips numb, and she wishes desperately she could kiss Temari, if only in an apology.

"Please," she blinks rapidly. "Say something. Anything."

Temari takes in a shuddering breath, shoulders hunching up. Her expression crumbles a little. "I thought you liked me."

"I do!" Sakura staggers forward without thinking; Temari backtracks. That hurts, more than the biting cold, and Sakura forces herself to maintain distance. Steadily, she repeats, "I do. I do like you."

Temari is shaking her head, chuckling in a way that is not one bit funny. "No, you don't. You like my brother. You only kissed me because I was stupid enough to offer it."

There's no point in denying. She's heard it and Sakura might as well respect her enough to be honest. "I, I do like – Itachi. But it's just – it's just a stupid crush, okay? A crush I got when I didn't even know he was engaged. He seemed – I don't know. He seemed nice and interesting and – and–"

Temari is shutting down once more. Sakura mentally curses at herself. How is this so difficult? What the fuck is wrong with her that she can't hold a serious conversation, can't speak without hurting others?

"Temari, you're – I like you. There's no question about it. I didn't kiss you because you offered. I mean, yes, technically. But I also like you. I like spending time with you. You're – you're kind, so fucking kind, and so strong. Please, please trust me–"

"Sakura, just stop it."

Sakura bites her tongue. The cold is seeping through her nerves, numbing her from the inside out.

Temari visibly steels herself. She crosses her arms across her chest, chin lifting. "It's fine if you're not interested. I can't make you–"

"That's not true–"

Temari holds up a finger. "You like my brother and you can't help that, either. Just remember that I can't have you deliberately mess up things for him–"

Horrified, Sakura says, "I would never–"

"I'm not done," Temari cuts her off sharply, eyes flashing with a warning. It's such a new look on her that Sakura shuts up once again in sheer shock. "I won't hold it against you, this crush or whatever you have on him, as long as you don't screw shit up. That's all I care about."

Jaw clenched, eyes stinging, Sakura nods. She's too numb to feel relieved; it'll come later.

Temari continues in an arctic voice. "You led me on, Sakura, when you knew better. I put myself out there and you – for that, I can't forgive you just yet. You're a part of us now, though, so I will find a way to do it. I need time and space for it. Can you respect that?"

Having the permission to speak, the words rush out of her. "Of course, of course. Shit, Temari, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and I do like you, I really do. I wasn't leading you on for nothing, you have to believe me. I really thought – I really thought we could be something. I swear–"

"How do you expect me to believe you?"

The harshness cuts through her pleads, jarring her. Temari is haloed in the pretty lights, her blonde hair like yellow waves on fire. Her chin drops; she shakes her head, laughing coldly.

"I'm not. I'm not doing this. We hardly know each other, Sakura. I don't know why I should even let this matter to me. And I'm certainly not going to put myself against my brother for you."

Sakura deserved that one. She nods. "Right."

"As long as we're on the same page," she states ruthlessly. "I don't appreciate being treated the way you treated me. I really don't."

Sakura shuts her eyes and the world turns dark, empty. She imagines she's floating towards Pluto. It's better than what's staring back at her in reality: Temari, raw and hurt, angry, as cold as the gathering snow around.

"I…" she gulps. Suddenly, she realises that she's trembling. "I know. I'm sorry."

A suffocating, deafening silence follows.

Then, Temari grits out, "Thank you."

Sakura opens her eyes only after the door slams shut.

Sakura wishes she could remember what happened next but she doesn't. All she knows is that she returned inside, Temari wouldn't even look at her, Karin kept throwing her disapproving stares, and everyone was getting sloshed except for Itachi.

The music they'd chosen were the groovy tunes, swaying with drinks in hands, singing along to the famous chorus lines. Sakura had consumed enough of Itachi's cocktails to be distracted from her own miserable situation, enough that the hurt from Temari's avoidance muted to a dull afterthought.

She comes to after midnight when she finds herself alone in the kitchen with Izumi.

She'd only wanted to get some water. Izumi is pulling out frozen snacks from the huge refrigerator and smiles politely at Sakura.

"Hungry?"

Sakura tries not to stare. Her heart is pounding and she has this ridiculous urge to fall down to her knees and apologize to Izumi. Until now, Sakura had not had a proper, direct conversation with her. Only added offhanded remarks in bits and pieces, mostly also because addressing Izumi would mean looking at her, and looking at her would mean watching her and Itachi cuddle and kiss in between Itachi's campaign of getting everyone drunk.

She clears her throat. "Not really. Just thirsty."

Izumi laughs warmly. "Even after being exclusively on cocktails this entire time?"

Actually, consuming copious amounts of alcohol over extended period makes you thirsty. She gives a sheepish smile. "Well, I don't need a hangover tomorrow. I still have to work."

"Ah, yes." Izumi places the frozen snacks in the microwave, turns it on. She grabs a plate from the drawer, clearly knows her way around. "Itachi mentioned you're a nurse. He was very excited."

Sakura swallows. "Really?"

"Yes," Izumi laughs again, all warm and nice. "He seems to be recruiting people who eat healthy. Me? I love junk food. It's been a very painful experience for him whenever I order greasy burgers."

Sakura forces out a polite chuckle.

Izumi winks and continues. "Don't blame me, though. I'm always eating at ungodly hours and for some reason, night-time is the best for this stuff. I don't understand how you can say no to cheesy fries topped with mayo."

The mental image of bubbling oil and cholesterol sludging through vessels makes her wince. Izumi notices and laughs harder.

"Oh god, you're the same as him. No wonder he was excited."

"I just figured it was because we both seem to enjoy watching shows and movies."

"That, too," Izumi concedes. "I mean, he's always enjoyed that and I was into it when we were younger. I had more time back then."

"How's the job going?" Sakura asks tentatively.

Izumi waves her hand in the air in a dismissive manner, puffing out a gust of breath. The microwave beeps at that moment, so she answers while readying her plate. "New job, new city, you know how it is. Still settling in even after nearly six months."

"May I ask what it is that you do, exactly?" Sakura asks, chuckles awkwardly. "No one actually mentioned…"

"Yikes, right. Okay, so I graduated with a management degree," Izumi explains. She hops on the counter with her food – they're potato wedges, Sakura realises – and drops a large dollop of ketchup on the side. "Turns out, no one gives a shit about that when you don't have much experience. For the first two years, I worked at this crappy dive bar–"

"What?"

"I know," Izumi giggles. "It was – interesting. Later, though, I got sick of it. Then I got desperate. Desperate enough to apply in whatever cities I came across. So now I live ten hours away from my fiancé, sleep four hours a night, and eat copious amounts of junk food. Don't tell Itachi, but I think our marriage is going to be short-lived if I die from a heart attack at the age of forty."

Fuck it. She likes Izumi.

"I won't," Sakura promises, grinning.

Upon Izumi's prompt, Sakura shares a little bit about her job, the atmosphere of the hospital, and Izumi seems curious enough to keep the conversation going for a while. When Itachi enters the kitchen to prepare more drinks, he notices Izumi's half-eaten potato wedges and playfully pinches her cheeks.

Izumi attempts to duck away, giggling, and threatens to stuff a wedge in his mouth if he doesn't back down. Itachi does.

He wheels around and settles between Izumi's legs, her arm thrown around his chest, chin hooking over his shoulder. Absently, he drums his fingers on her knees even as he smiles at Sakura.

"I made her watch the movie," he shares like now it's an inside joke with Sakura. "Never Let Me Go."

Izumi groans loudly, burying her face in Itachi's neck. "I still hate you for it, FYI." Then she looks up at Sakura, as if she shares an inside joke with her, too. "I watched it today right after I arrived, he was so insistent."

"And then she cried for an hour."

"Of course, I did," Izumi accepts passionately. "This reminded me of Titanic. I cried so much during Titanic, too; you remember that, babe?"

"We both cried after that," Itachi guffaws. "That was – something. I mean, we knew the story. The ship was going to sink–"

"We never expected it to end so tragically–"

"Exactly. I swear, Sakura, I was still waiting for last-minute miracle and then – well. You know what happens."

"Ah, I think I'm going to cry again," Izumi fans her face. "Never thought I'd spend my Christmas like this. But you know, I did have one complaint about the movie–"

Itachi groans. "Not this again–"

"Shut up," Izumi playfully swats his chest. Itachi catches her palm and interlaces their fingers. Izumi's face softens. "Sakura, you tell me. Do you honestly believe they could have fallen in love in one day? Enough for Rose to break off her engagement?"

"But you have to realise her fiancé was pretty shit," Itachi says in an exasperated tone.

"He was," Izumi concedes the point, but adds, "Still. I mean, alright, you don't like him, break it off. But she broke it off after meeting Jack for one day. How realistic is that? Tell me you'd take someone like that seriously. Who could break off an engagement for someone they barely know."

Jesus Christ, what the fuck.

Is Naruto and Sasuke's house some gateway for soap opera drama? She's honestly considering it.

And now Izumi and Itachi are staring at her expectantly.

What is she supposed to say? I still cry sometimes whenever I think about the ending? That she wholeheartedly believes Jack made Rose realise she deserved much better? That time doesn't matter but the right person?

She's saved from answering, thankfully. Ino and Karin enter, demanding why the supply of drinks have stopped. Well, Ino demands and Karin silently looks between Sakura and Izumi with an unreadable expression. Sakura hastily excuses herself.

Outside in the living room, she drops down beside Naruto's manager slash friend, Ro. He's been quiet most of the night, only speaking when spoken to. He has a tattooed face, well built, and Sakura has the distinct impression that he might hug teddy bears while sleeping.

"Hey."

He glances over. "Hello."

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I suppose. I'm not too big on Christmas."

"Ah, I see. Still nice of you to show up."

His lips quirk up on one side. "I'm only here because Naruto annoyed me into it."

Sakura smirks. "He do that often?"

Ro sighs, sniggers broodingly. "Personal opinion? More than I can tolerate."

"Professional?"

"You can imagine."

A raised banter catches their attention: Sai has wandered out and Naruto is drunkenly thrusting a half-filled glass in his hand, while Sasuke tries to intervene, He doesn't want to drink, give it here, Sai I'm so sorry –

"Babe, it's Christmas! Of course, Sai wants a drink. Don't you, Sai? Come on, don't be shy. Maybe this might give you the liquid courage to ask out Ino."

Sai is eyeing the glass with open contempt. "I'm not really in the mood, Naruto. Besides, if I wanted to ask out Ino, I wouldn't need alcohol."

Naruto drops the glass, shock written across his face. The drink spills on the carpet and the glass rolls away. Even Sasuke ceases his attempts to pull away Naruto. Sakura glances over to the kitchen entrance: Ino and Izumi's muffled laugher floats out, Itachi's animated voice that rises from time to time. It's incomprehensible, though, all of it.

"You don't want to ask her out?" Naruto says, shoulders slumped, pouting. "Babe, he doesn't want to ask her out."

Sasuke looks between Sai and the kitchen nervously. "Um, okay. Right. Well, that cleared up things. Just, um, just out of curiosity. You don't like Ino?"

Sai frowns. "Of course, I like Ino."

"Then why don't you want to ask her out?" Naruto implores. He catches Sai's hands between both of his, steps closer. "You don't think she'll say yes?"

"Why do I need to ask her out to like her? I like her now, even when we're not 'going out'."

Now, Sasuke crowds him, too. Across the room, Sakura catches Konan's gaze, eyebrows raised. She shrugs back in response.

"You've got it the other way around," Sasuke tries to explain. "When you like someone, you ask them out. If they say yes, you have the permission to like them openly."

"I like her openly already."

"But you can't – you can't kiss her," Naruto insists. "Or hold her. Or go on dates and spend time together. I mean, there's no commitment, is there? No exclusivity, if that's what you're into. What if she goes out with another man? What will you do?"

"That is her choice," Sai says, looking as poker-faced as ever. "If she wishes to date a man, she is free to do so. I don't understand why I have to intrude on that decision."

"You don't want commitment?"

"I don't need it. I'm very content in simply having the opportunity to know her as a person." Sai proceeds to extricate his hands from Naruto's clasped ones. He steps back, says, "Please do not crowd me. I get anxious."

"Shit, no, sorry," Sasuke successfully tugs a heartbroken Naruto further away. "Sorry. This is just – wow, I think I'm too drunk to make sense of this conversation."

"Me, too, babe," Naruto informs him. "I think I want to get drunker to forget it, too. Where's your brother? ITACHI! YOU'RE A SHITTY BARTENDER! Babe, no offense, but we shouldn't reply upon him for future events."

"I'm sure there must be a delay," Sasuke assures him. "I'll be right back."

Naruto watches him go, then turns around. He scans the room until he zeroes in on Sakura, then smiles blindingly, like a predator catching sight of its prey. In the background, Konan is beckoning Sai to join her near the fireplace.

Sakura braces herself.

"Has Ro managed to dampen your mood yet?" Naruto twitches his eyebrows like an idiot, shoving himself on the couch between Sakura and said man. He wriggles a little, trying to get comfortable. "He almost ditched, too, until I–"

"Until you threatened to cancel your contract with Yagura's gallery," Ro remarks dryly. To Sakura, he explains, "It took me months to strike a deal that both parties were happy with. Many, many frustrating phone calls past ten. I wasn't about to let him ruin all the hard work over a holiday."

"It's a delightful holiday," Naruto says rather sternly, like a parent reprimanding a child. You better enjoy it, young man, if you want the cookies.

"Sure it is."

"Sakura," Naruto turns to her purposefully. "Have you thought about my offer?"

This is – she was going to give him the card in the morning. She hadn't counted on him to ask her again through the night. "Uh…"

Naruto looks heartbroken all over again. "You haven't?" Before Sakura can decide upon the best strategy to answer, he covers his ears and shakes his head, eyes shut. "Don't tell me. If you say no, I don't think my heart can take it tonight." In a sudden move, he jumps to his feet, muttering, "I need Sas to kiss it away. Bye."

That has Ro smiling. "Sometimes I tend to forget why I took him as a client. Then he does something like this."

"What?" Sakura asks. "Finds Sasuke?"

"No. Have you heard about how great artists are born out of heartbreaks?"

She nods slowly. "Yes…"

"It's not always true," Ro grins wider. "Some are born out of unapologetic, unashamed love."

The door opens, a clatter of footsteps, and Sasuke's ringing laughter.

Sakura looks over her shoulder. Sasuke is stumbling down the porch, phone held up to his face. The voice of the other person is faint but Sakura assumes it's a woman.

He notices her immediately. "Hey! What're you doin' ou' here?"

Sakura rubs her palms together to gather heat. "Thought some cold air might help with the kick. Who are you talking to?"

Sasuke joins her and turns the phone around. On the screen is a kind woman, face lit up from the light of the phone, rumpled but smiling affectionately. Dark hair and matching dark eyes. "Hello. I'm Uchiha Mikoto."

"Fuck, that's your mother?" The words register a second later and her eyes widen in horror. "Shit. Fuck. I mean sorry. Uh, nice to meet you, Mrs. Uchiha. I'm Haruno Sakura."

To her relief, Mikoto takes it in stride. She giggles. "Nice to meet you, too. Are you drunk as well, dear?"

Sakura turns her horrified face to Sasuke. He rolls his eyes and enters the screen frame again. "Mom, everyone is. Itachi is currently pouring neat scotch down Ro's throat."

"That boy," Mikoto shakes her head. She moves a little, seems to be getting out of bed. A few moments of walking later, yellow light spills in the room. "Should I be concerned that you're calling me at this hour?"

"I wanted to ask you something," Sasuke replies. Sakura begins to walk away, to give them privacy, but Sasuke grabs her elbow. "You can stay. It's fine."

"Uh, okay."

In the camera, he says, "Mom, you remember when Obito got that girl home? The one who was way too sweet and we all freaked out?"

Mikoto is more amused than anything else. "Rin, yes."

"Yes! I told Naruto it was her," Sasuke cheers. "We just came across her photo on the internet. She got married to some famous tennis player."

"How's Naruto doing, sweetheart?"

Sasuke gives a dopey smile. "Naruto is Naruto. He misses you, though. Says we should plan a trip soon."

"You should," Mikoto agrees. Her eyes flick over to Sakura's and she smiles kindly. "Are you enjoying yourself, dear?"

"I – uh. Yeah. Yeah, I am," Sakura says nervously. "It's a great party."

"Uh oh," Mikoto and Sasuke intone at the same time.

"Sasuke?" Mikoto prompts.

"I don't know," Sasuke says defensively.

"Why don't you take a walk?"

"Yes. Right."

He proceeds to dump the phone in Sakura's hand and goes back inside the house without a word. She stares at the empty spot he was just in before letting her eyes crawl back to the phone.

Mikoto is preparing coffee.

"Umm."

"Don't worry," Mikoto winks in the camera. "I won't say a word to my sons. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Sakura quickly says.

This is – what the fuck is happening? Her gaze darts around the neighbourhood, heart thumping. Has she actually entered alternate reality? Is the Uchiha family truly a part of some romcom personified? The picture perfect family with nice parents and loving children? Sakura wouldn't be surprised if their father were a short greying man with considerable potbelly, crowfeet around the eyes, courtesy of a happy life.

"Well, that's absolutely not true," Mikoto refutes lightly. "But I'll leave it alone, if that's what you want."

A brief pause and then Sakura blurts out, "I've had a long day."

Mikoto hums. Her coffee is ready. She takes a seat at the dining table, under a single yellow light. "I see."

"Honestly, right now, I feel like I'm trapped in an alternate dimension," she laughs, hollowed out, bordering on hysteria. "I wish my godmother were here to hide me away. And I know I'm an adult now or whatever and that I should face reality, including all my fuck-ups – shit, fuck, sorry–"

Mikoto giggles. "Don't worry about it."

Sakura takes in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When she opens them again, the world still feels just as bizarre, the night still as surreal. She desperately wants to go live on that private hidden island where no one will know how messed up she is. Her throat is closed tight.

Mikoto's expression smooths out into sympathy when Sakura doesn't continue. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Just a few days ago, I wished I could hide under my mother's dress – rest her soul – because our dog passed away. After my sons moved out, I became his primary caretaker. I took it quite hard."

"I'm sorry."

She smiles gently. "Thank you. You're allowed to have bad days and feel bad on those days. Today is just one of them."

"I – uh. I lost my parents," Sakura admits, eyes stinging. "Years ago but. It's still bad. They were good parents to me. I was a difficult child, rude and aggressive, but they, they loved me anyway."

"Of course, they did," Mikoto says, turning even softer.

"I didn't deserve them," Sakura croaks out, tears spilling over. Her knees are trembling; she'd never said this out loud before. "I don't deserve half of the good things in my life and I keep messing things up. I don't intend to but it's just this – this hunger to prove something, I don't know what. Tsunade tells me it was a mistake to change my major, says I could have done so much better with my life. And then Dr. Tamaki said everyone at the hospital lets me do whatever I want because they're scared of Tsunade, so now I've decided to do whatever I want. And – and. Hinata's pregnant, she's such a wonderful person, and I'm so worried for her baby, which is stupid, but I don't want it to be alone because it sucks. Temari is pissed at me, Karin hates me even more than usual, and I'm too embarrassed to even stay the night. And I can't leave because I don't want the others being suspicious, or worse, ask me about it."

Mikoto stays quiet, no sign of judgement on her kind face. Sakura tries to collect herself as much as possible – this is so stupid – she can't afford breaking down in front of the Uchiha family members two nights in a row. Temari was right; she barely even knows them.

"I just wish," she hiccups, sniffles, "I just wish I'd said all this shit to my parents when they were still alive."

Izumi is tucked under his arm, snoring lowly.

A rush of affection courses through Itachi, she's finally here, in person, and it's one of the best things to happen on Christmas.

When Itachi was in the hospital after the accident, his mind had been a blank slate. He woke up to beeping monitors and a crowd gathered around his bed, none of whom he knew. But they had been crying, relieved, and Itachi turned to the doctor, the old man in the white coat, what's happening?

You were in an accident, the doctor said.

Itachi gulped. Hesitantly, and honestly a little scared, he asked quietly, and who are they…?

The older woman cried harder. The young boy staggered forward numbly, hand extended, and then let it drop. Another older man went and sat on the couch, staring blankly. And the last person, a young woman, hurried out the door, covering her face, sobbing.

The terror had lasted for two days. Temporary amnesia, hit his head, nothing to worry about, focus on his recovery, hard road ahead, and Itachi tuned out.

Izumi hadn't been able to face him for a couple of weeks. He didn't hold it against her, tried to tell her that, but she was scared out of her mind.

I ran, Itachi. I'm sorry.

Itachi kisses the top of her head, tightening his arm around her. On his other side, Temari is pushed against his arm, head on his shoulder, hands tucked in her lap. She looks exhausted but there's something wrong with her expression.

Itachi nudges her lightly. "Hey. What's up?"

Temari sighs, a heavy, grave sound. "She doesn't like me back."

"Who?"

Silence.

"She's crazy," Itachi says.

Temari snorts. It's cold and humourless. "It was just a stupid crush. I don't know why I'm upset."

"Hey, come on," Itachi cajoles. "You know what baby bro's therapist says?"

"Yeah, yeah," Temari rolls her eyes. "All emotions are valid. Although, I think he was referring less to our heartbreak and more to Gaara's mood swings."

"Who cares? It still applies."

"Whatever." She burrows herself deeper in the cushions. "I hate this night."

Itachi leans down conspiratorially. "You know who got your name?"

"How do you know?"

"I know everything."

"I really don't think so."

"It's part of being the older brother," he tells her seriously. "We're born with infinite wisdom and knowledge."

"Who taught you that?" Temari sniggers. "It was Shisui, wasn't it? I bet it was him."

"We never reveal our sources."

"It was him," Temari decides. "Anyway, when are you flying out?"

"Two days."

"Are you nervous?"

Itachi laughs shakily. "Hell, yes."

The plan is to reach the venue early and scope out the pool, get accustomed to the size. Kakashi said it's to help him settle his nerves after his long break and even if they won't be able to practice there itself, he insisted to stay in the city. He's found a similar location to finish the rest of their training.

It's not as though Itachi hasn't competed at all since his recovery. He's participated in minor leagues, got some traction out of it, and even won more than he lost. But this, this is a bigger deal than a minor league. This is where the big guns would be watching, so to speak, and Itachi needs to prove that he still deserves to be bet upon. Kakashi had also said that there might be spectators present who'd seen him before his accident, and it would be the perfect time to mark his return into the big games.

Temari hums, murmurs. "Is Izumi coming with you?"

"No, she can't afford leaves yet."

"You need us to come? I'm sure Sasuke and I can shuffle things around–"

Warmth spreads through his chest. "No, that's alright."

"Speak of the devil…" Temari giggles.

They watch as Sasuke enters through the back door and heads straight towards them. He collapses on Temari's other side, throws an arm over his head, and promptly swings his legs up, stretching them out on their laps. His feet are inches away from Izumi's sleeping face.

"Isn't it cold outside?" Temari grumbles, trying to get comfortable with his added weight.

"I called mom," Sasuke says.

"Give me the phone," Itachi lays out his hand. "I want to say hi if she's still awake."

"She's talking to Sakura. You can go out but I'd suggest you not to. She seemed, I don't know, down. Mom's trying to weasel it out of her."

Itachi remembers her quiet admission in startling clarity, How long am I supposed to wait? No one tells you that.

"Oh, she was very upset the other night, too," Itachi mutters, forehead creasing in concern. He hadn't thought she was still shook about it.

Sasuke peeks from under his elbow. "What for?"

"She misses her parents, I think," Itachi shrugs as casually as possible. "I mean, it's the holiday, I guess? She said she doesn't even do gifts but agreed because Konan said it's just for one person."

Sasuke hums. "I can't imagine losing parents. Naruto never knew his, and somehow, I think that helped. It's different with Sakura, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

Naruto comes down the flight of stairs. Not before long, he's announcing Uchiha Pile Up, and throws himself on Sasuke's chest. Sasuke shoots out an arm to hold him securely.

Temari squeaks and protests, struggling. "You're not an Uchiha yet! Get off!"

Naruto doesn't. "You're not an Uchiha, either."

"Hey!" Temari exclaims loudly. "You're talking to your future sister-in-law. Show some respect if you ever hope to marry my brother."

Izumi stirs on Itachi's other side, mumbles sleepily – everyone freezes – and then settles once again.

"Speaking of future in-laws," Naruto whispers, grinning, "are we ever going to attend your wedding?"

"For fuck's sake," Konan snaps, stomping over, "what is this? Sometimes, I can't believe half of our group is made of one, big extended family."

"I know you want to be a part of it," Naruto teases, "but we only have Temari to offer right now. Or Gaara, if you're into genius redheads. Your future kids would be something out of a dream."

"Someone say genius redhead?" Karin pops out from the back of the couch blearily, making Naruto shriek in surprise. He jostles so violently that Sasuke, Temari, and Itachi slide down the couch a couple of inches. Izumi makes a protesting noise in her sleep.

"What the fuck?" Temari whispers angrily.

"Hey, Naruto," Itachi suddenly realises, "where are your friends?"

"They left when they realised drinks meant drinks and not one drink."

"I'm insulted."

"You should be," Naruto nods. "This was our first hosting and you made our guests leave."

"No one is even that drunk–"

"Are you looking at Karin–"

"Hello? Aniki? Do you think I enjoy sleeping on other people–"

"I'd enjoy if you slept on me, babe–"

"No offense, sweetheart, but I think I'm going to puke–"

A collective groan.

"What?" Sasuke says in defence. "Blame him–"

"Or you're just a lightweight–"

"Fuck you, too, Konan–"

"Why are we fucking Konan?"

"Hey, Ino, where the hell were you–"

"Sai and I were watching a few videos in the room–"

"Is that all you were doing–"

"Do we need to change our bedsheets–"

"Seriously, guys? Seriously?"

"Where is Sai, anyway–"

"He's in a weird mood today. His therapist told him to consider adopting another dog so he's, you know, pissed as fuck at the mere notion–"

"Babe, do you think we need a dog–"

"We'll have to hire a sitter–"

"For god's sake, can you stop with the marital talk–"

"No, we won't. This is our house, if you haven't noticed–"

"Oh my god, you people," Izumi groans, lifting her head up sleepily, "I forgot how much you blabbered–"

"Just because you're a hot shot now–"

"Hot shot–"

"What? It's a legit phrase–"

"In Narnia?"

"Look, Sakura's back–"

"Hey, Sakura, don't you think hot shot is a phrase–"

"Yeah," she approaches the human pile carefully – Itachi thinks her face is a little too blotchy for a normal cold temperature – her fingers are gripping the phone tightly, "if you're a seventeen year old wearing jeans halfway down your ass–"

Itachi snorts very, very unattractively. Izumi grins at him, amused, while light laughter ripples across the couch.

"Ugh," Konan shudders, cackling, "that was an interesting phase–"

"Bold of you to assume it's over–"

"Just yesterday I saw this dude on the tube, neon purple boxers with the Jumbo print–"

"I'd wear that–"

"Seriously, Sakura?"

"Why not? I mean, if you'd said the trunk was at the right place–"

Itachi groans, covering his face with his hands. "Not again!"

Update :) cycle :) is officially :) erratic. :)