4.

A/N: The portrayals of characters and society in this story are not always necessarily a reflection of my own personal views. This is just fanfiction and just for fun, and not to be taken personally/seriously, thanks.

Some chapters in this fanfic might need a trigger warning but I don't know how to do that without giving away spoilers, so... this is your first unspecified trigger warning? My writing is quite tame though.

Gold.

Everything was lined with gold. From the minute intricacies of the furnishings to the brim of the glass that had been lent to her, gold winked back at her wherever she went in this maddened abode, and she hated it. The first time that she has been given the privilege to enter such a place, and it is whilst she is playing a farce, a union bought by artificiality laced with dishonesty and a motive that is far beyond their reaches as of now.

Sakura had roamed around the vast halls, rooms and grand garden wondering why one man would keep this all for himself. It was one thing she had detested about the rich, they occupied land and mansions as if they were trophies to collect, whereby people like her parents existed who were of lowly-birth, and only had their plot of agriculture back home to make ends meet. Although she had cut ties with her parents long ago, choosing to move in permanently with Sasuke and Naruto at the age of sixteen after years of having sleepovers with them, and other times with Ino, there was still a part of her that bled for her parents' struggles. They were still her parents after all. Despite the deceitful lies. Despite them not supporting her dreams, knowing what ill-fated luck awaited her and thinking she was wasting away her years at studying rather than caking herself up in preparation to marry another farm boy at the ripe age of eighteen, they had raised her. And it was something she could not change.

As she paraded the hallway that led to her room - thankfully a room that was not shared with the older man - her feet padded against the coral gloss of the marble tiles, as she passed the grand windows that reached up high to the ceiling from the central lining of the walls. She could just about spy the vines that had laced around the window outside, framing the castle-like home, acting homely, but more like warding off any trespassers with what she could clearly outline as stinging nettles.

The quarters which she was assigned to welcomed her with a red door and a gold door knob which she held in her hand as she twisted it, allowing herself to enter the room draped with silky curtains. The beds too were covered in the finest silk, and Sakura found herself using each exquisite material to weave her own gowns in her spare time. The majority of her time had been spent memorising the footsteps of Itachi's dance to his rhythm of suspected lies and shocking revelations; harmonising to the tune of his songs as he romanticises her stay, ensuring she has only the best sweetmeats and other prepared food and wine - she plays his game as she sits on his lap, only eating what he does too, sipping from the same glass, intent on shadowing his every move lest he discards her after her usefulness is over.

It is from their third 'business meeting' when she sits across from him rather than cushions herself over his body that he reveals to her that he suspects Mr Shimura was behind the death of Mr Namikaze and his inconspicuous wife, and most probably behind Mr Sarutobi's death too. Both former Presidents who had been attempting to forego the polarising traditions and customs of Konoha which had left majority of the population under disarray, and at a mercy to the rich and powerful. Somehow, Sakura could see that there was most likely some truth to it. But what evidence was there to back up his claims? When questioned, his only response was that he could not disclose that to her just yet.

Complications and trickery; tainted flirtations and grinding of molars.

A week had raced by and simultaneously, Sakura had felt as if she had made no progress at all but had turned over stones where she didn't know there were any, and had discovered a mine of gems, ready to be picked and used at her behest.

She has not left the mansion in the week that she had stayed, she has been inundated in tasks of practising new skills of various fighting styles that she had been learning from the faceless YouTuber of 'SlugQueen'. From the various comments that she recalled back when she had her phone, however, it seemed that most of the demographic of SlugQueen's viewers were males whose interest had been piqued due to the curvature of the YouTuber's physique. As Sakura made her fists into daggers as she punctured the air in the gym room, she heard a low chuckle leave the lips of the man she did not trust, but had attempted to seduce with her charm.

Sakura, with her pastel coloured hair tied into a messy bun sweat trickling down her body, her toned navel exposed and her shapely legs visible beneath the leggings of her kneecaps, looked towards the doorway to find the opposite sex smirking at her. He was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed which accentuated his forearms, his muscles bulging which would make any other damsel blush. But she was no damsel in distress - far from it, and he knew it too.

His stare caused bristles against her skin as it always did. His uncomfortable stare which made her want to shift her feet to dissuade him from staring instead rooted her to the spot, and she stared back in response - in defiance. He would not make her squirm.

"What do you want, Itachi?" she asked, her tone sharp, made to cut.

Her determined emerald eyes locked onto his onyx, but as always, they were unreadable.

"I just wanted to know what all this ruckus was about, that's all," he said, his voice velvet - it could make any other woman swoon, but not her. She was not so fickle. He sauntered towards her and brushed a stray lock of her hair away from her face and planted it behind her ear.

She did not tremble, nor did she dare show weakness. She allowed his deceptive hand to touch her, and she waited until he took his hand back to rest inside his trouser pocket.

"So this is what you do when I'm out," he reflected, his voice not withholding amusement.

"It's not like you'll allow me to leave myself," she retorted back, resentment evident in her voice. "What is it that you do anyway? And why won't you let me leave?"

"Haruno... We agreed that first day not too many questions, perchance if you need reminding, you can think back on our conditions. And in regards to why I won't let you leave, well, where else would you go? Surely you can't go back after what you disclosed about how you left Uzumaki inebriated? You know what they do to mere civilians who cross the higher ranks, don't you? You're smarter than that, Haruno."

Sakura's eyes crinkled slightly as she narrowed her eyes, disbelief etching onto her features, doubt creeping along her creamy skin.

"Besides," he added. "It's cold outside. Snow has occupied these lands in case you've chosen not to look outside the windows or ventured into the gardens." He chuckled teasingly, playfully. But his eyes still remained distant, hiding whatever it was that lurked beneath.

Sakura had seen the snow outside, and it was like nothing she had ever seen before. What had previously been green was now quilted in white. Snowflakes had painted every last crevice of the earth and the ground almost glistened like stars. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and somehow, the cold winter of February had beautified the wilted leaves and deadened plants of the land, leaving some sort of hope for this negligent world.

It was as she was reflecting back on the snow-engulfed world outside that she felt the hand lined in green visible veins touch her waist. As she looked down, she could see where tips of his fingers were lightly pressing onto her skin whilst the rest of the palm of his hand sat atop the waistband of her leggings. Her eyes flickered up to meet his with a question in her stare, which he answered with, "Show me what you got, Haruno."

And with that his grip on her tightened as he attempted to throw her down onto the mat, but as unprepared as she was, she was still able to defend herself by grabbing his other hand and twisting it behind his back, as far as she could reach from the position she was standing. But he loosened her resolve by kicking at her ankles to which she lost her balance and found her back planted onto the mat with a soft thud. Itachi smirked and stood over her, bending down slightly as he offered her his arm. She took it and allowed him to pull her up. As she panted and fought to gather back her breath by wiping the sweat off her brow and quench her thirst, Itachi spoke, "I'm impressed. You've really got some skills there, Haruno."

The soft cadence of his voice, as always, sent shivers down her, but she concealed her reflexive reaction by scoffing at his words. "For a woman, you mean?" she challenged him.

The smirk remained but a brow rose. "No, I mean it," the Uchiha insisted. "Obviously you've still got some work to do, but you can definitely handle yourself. I can commend you for that."

Sakura eyed him warily for a second before she went back to stretching her limbs, covertly ensuring the vial she kept hidden under the waistband of her leggings was still intact. She rose up again when she heard Itachi say to her, "I've got something for you."

"I hope it's a wet towel, I can really do with one of those right now," Sakura remarked snidely.

The low timber of his chuckle resounded around the room, coursing towards her, making her realise just how close he was to her. She had to tilt her head up to face him in order to ponder about the lines carved into his beautifully etched Uchiha genes, and his long eyelashes that would put any females' to shame.

"Not quite," he denied her, as his arms circled around the length of her neck until she felt a soft weight on her bodice. "But I do have something that will bind and seal our conditions and contract together, Haruno." She looked down towards the pendant hanging between her breasts and found red and white winking back at her, reflecting the bright lights of the gym room. Settled next to her heart, was the heart of the Uchiha's: the emblem of their family crest.

"Ah, and this too," Itachi added as he took her left hand and placed a piece of jewellery that announced to the world that her hand in marriage was to be sealed. Wounded around the ring finger of her left hand was a touch of silver, magnificently perfected with a ruby stone that shone secrets that had been harboured in the past and exuded curiosity for the future. Sakura recognised the ruby ring instantly.

"Itachi, isn't this-"

"Yes. It's mother's," he confirmed, sadness ebbing into his words, and she could almost see pain in his onyx gaze of glass for a fraction of a second.

"I can't have this!" Sakura insisted, twisting the ring to try to work it off against the friction of her finger. Alas, his hand clamped around hers and he whispered to her his heart that was more gripping than any of the other scandals he had disclosed to her,

"It's all I have of her, Haruno. It's a sign of the matriarch of the Uchiha. That's you now. I want you to have it. You," he confessed. His confession left her wordless, staring at his lips and she almost believed him. If there was any sort of attraction between the two, mayhaps she would have even clung to his lips to console him for whatever terrors haunted him.

But he was a man constructed by lies and secrets and she was no fool, so she accepted, feigning dumbness as she nodded without a word, agreeing to whatever madness he had coaxed her into. As he took his leave, the last thing he said without even glancing back over his shoulder was, "Our engagement will be in exactly one week. I will begin making the preparations."

She watched him leave with his long hair tied back behind him swaying as he took each step. She held onto the Uchiha pendant that clung to her, and like a curse, it had started to bewitch her into thinking that perhaps by dining with him next week, she could unfurl some more secrets from him. Secrets that had to do about himself and the complexities of his family, and why he had been escaping the police and his younger brother for so long if he was as innocent as he claimed. She too, would begin making her own preparations. It was for this very reason that she had been creating concoctions, ready to extract any sort of fluid from him to enhance the drugs she would make for him and store her creations inside her self-designed dresses which had pockets stitched within the inside of the bodice.

Later that night at dinner, she takes her place on his lap again and they clink glasses as she drinks from the same glass as him. They feed each other as if they were lovers, and not two who are using the other for their own gains.

They are drunk on each other's hoaxes - their captivating laughs capture each other as she giggles into his neck, her wine glass held around his face. His hand on her lower body, barely touching her, but just enough to have her balanced.

It is unclear whether he really wants her as she is - an intoxicating beauty who would charm any man until he loses all senses - but she goes for it anyway, and she takes his hand that night and follows him towards a room she had never been in before.

She is too drunk to take notice of her surroundings, but she is sure she has been placed on his bed and she feels the hot searing kisses against her neck. Is this what she agreed to? She cannot remember, nor can she speak a word or cry out that she no longer wants to be subdued by him and she is unsure what is happening -

Blank.

She awakens.

Frozen. Naked. Alone. There is no evidence that anyone else had slept beside her, yet she can't help but feel that something is... off. Sakura's head and body feel like lead as she tries to lift herself up, and as she takes in her surroundings, at the vintage clock that hangs above the door, at the leather jacket that sits on a chair, at the old, wooden furnishings placed around marking and exuding testosterone and masculinity... she realises she is not in her own room.

Sakura scurries around the room and finds her clothes on the bed from the night before and pulls it over her, before she finds the adjoining room which is hers. She opens the door to find a man in his fifties, wearing a two-piece suit, hair thinning and greying as he places a tray of breakfast on her dresser.

Her appearance must have shocked him for he drops the glass he holds and it shatters, spraying water onto his shoes.

"Who are you?" she asks, her eyes wide with caution. Who was this strange man and where was Itachi?

"A-ah, I am sorry to startle you Ms Haruno!" the man apologises. "But I am one of your personal assistants until the big day! I will be tending to your every need, as will the rest of us, so please do not hesitate to ask for anything you may need."

Had she miscalculated? Had she somehow mistakenly drunken or eaten something which Itachi hadn't? Had she gone mad and lost herself in some trip beyond euphoria; knocking onto insanity?

"Are you alright, Ms Haruno?" she heard the man ask. He was definitely here. Standing opposite her. In the room which had been assigned to her and only her. "Would you need any assistance?" Her heart hammers at her chest, drumming to her fear and caution that she has been tainted. The nakedness which she woke up in was not a state she remembers her being in before she passed out. She can still make out the slight bruises on her shoulder that is visible to this strange man, as well as the other ones on her body. She is an ornament ready to break - but she holds herself together, with bandaids of fury.

"Yes," she managed to say, her voice tight as she attempted to suppress her growing anger. "I need you to get out."

The man blinked at her, processing what she had demanded and it was only when she snarled, "Now," with a glare that could kill that he complied and left her alone. No sooner than had the butler left, Sakura flung open her closets and found all her self-made dresses were gone. All the vials she had been encasing, all the notes of ingredients for different illegal medicine she had made and was planning to make were gone from her bags. All was replaced by elegant ballgown dresses and skirts, clothes made suitable for gym wear, and more smart casual outfits prepared for the day. Sakura took out one plain green dress and adorned it, paired with white leggings, vehemently threw it on before chasing shadows around the mansion which she had been subjugated to. For the past week, it had been only her and Itachi. But now, no matter where she went, Itachi was no where to be found, and instead there were 'assistants' and 'maids' tending to every part of the mansion, asking her if she needed any assistance.

One night. One mistake. And everything had changed.

She had let her guard down once, and she would not do it again.

When Sakura was sure that the entrance was free from any housekeepers, she took perchance on the fact that she may not be followed or seen as she stepped out into the land of snow. Her feet dipped into the blank page and she made her mark on the world, writing her story with her footprints, wondering what path it will lead to as she narrated her tale. The crispiness of the snow under the soles of her shoes spoke to her, whispering stories she could not yet decipher. She followed the path that had been marred by previous footprints, footprints that were larger than hers and she was sure she knew who it belonged to - the man who had defiled her and she had vowed to take back what he had stolen from her: answers to questions, freedom, her chastity.

She would hunt him down. Confront him on a playing field where she had some footing, not where she was trapped and was a stranger to the walls that housed and caged her in. So it was that she fled from the mansion, escaping from the whiteness that had covered all the greens that she had once known as her safe haven. A place she once held and knew as innocence and a place that should could escape to... had now been marred by the one man who had always unsettled her. Here she is as she escapes the only place she ever knew to be truly free - a place she knew was peace as the deep greens of the leaves and ivy that hung around trees called her name - now it was distorted. Fragmented. As she was.

As the frost settled onto her skin and kissed her hair, Sakura made her way defiantly through the snow, not even allowing the numbing coldness to cut away at her fiery rage that had been brewing.

The path had led her towards a town where the snow was not so prominent. The tiled brown roofs could be seen, and traders and customers alike worked their way across the market stalls. It was clear as the snow how the people of the town had been divided by their titles and status - and it seemed that with Sakura's rich material of her mint green dress, she had been coined to be one of the wealthy. As she busied herself with looking for a man in his mid-twenties, easily identified by his raven black hair elegantly matched with his eyes that drift you off into illusions, shaped perfectly by his handsome jaw and his perfectly crafted face, the wealthy civilians cooed over her pink hair, her fine clothes and finally let out an indignant sigh when they spotted the jewellery that hung around her neck that could only indicate that this beautiful young woman with eyes as jade as summer grass has already been destined to seal her fate with another man. It was so that they concluded she was not available to marry their sons. What a shame that she could not marry and bear them some healthy grandchildren. Oh where did this fine woman come from? Pink hair, so exotic! She must come from an ancient lineage that holds power in one of the great villages, oh but which one! Maybe she'd give up her lover and marry your brother?

Sakura's eyes scanned the crowds but to no avail. She had sworn she had seen a man with raven hair pass her but she had lost sight at the amount of people that were crowding around her and gawking. Just as she was about to venture off to another street, she felt her hand pulled towards a group of women adorned in golds and riches lunching outside a cafe. They bombarded her with questions left, right and centre, asking her who she was being married off to and if they could dissuade her, and would she like a glass of wine?

"Sorry," she interrupted the women too busy caught up in their gossips and their delusions. "I'm actually looking for someone. A man about this height-" she gestured with her hand "-he has black hair and black eyes and-"

"Oh? That handsome young man we saw earlier? Is he your husband-to-be?"

"Makes sense why you'd be smitten all over him. All the other girls were once he passed this street. Poor man, who was to know that he was looking for his lost lady?"

"You've seen him?" Sakura asked impatiently.

"Ah yes, dearie. Go to your love. He headed north, you'll see a water fountain. We're sorry to have been such a bother-"

Sakura didn't wait any longer than she had to as she freed her hand from the one of the woman's grasp and made her way north to hunt down the man who dared to double cross her. The last thing she heard from the group of women were, "Young love, eh?"

Sakura ran onward towards north until she came across the said water fountain with tears sprouting up high before cascading down and filling up the bowl of stone with more liquid before starting the cycle again. Sure enough, standing near the water fountain was a man of the vague description she had given to the women, his hand settled onto the artwork crafted onto the stone of the water fountain.

She neared closer... and her heart caught in her throat. He turned towards her and a hint of recognition shadowed his face before a frown etched onto him. He was not happy to see her, far from it.

His eyes held the midnight sky, trapping it within his dark orbs, mesmerising anyone who befell his dark gaze. However, Sakura noticed, where once stars glistened in his midnight eyes, they were only left blank - as if all light had been eroded.

The black strands of his hair settled around his face like a perfect set of dominoes, highlighting his refined bone structure and accentuating his sharp jaws that could cut glass. Where his hair was perfectly settled at the front, it had decided to rebelliously grow at all angles at the back, like a group of daggers, ready to strike its opponent.

'Sasuke?'

He is cold, distant. He is no long the warm, summer boy she remembers from her childhood nor is he the autumnal faded leaves that greets her with comfort she remembers from just a year prior. Rather, he is a cold, harsh winter that threatens to crack everything around him with his frost. But she does not blame him, for life has been cruel to him, she knows, as it has been to her. And the heavens only knows how much she has changed too.

What are two broken things if they cannot compliment each other?

Abandoned.

And lost.

By the cruel realities that this hellish life has to offer.

He glares at her for a long minute - memories swirl in their gazes, time comes to a halt but simultaneously they travel back and forth between ages - and he leaves her, stranded. His back turned against her.

Once again, he is gone.

A/N - CLARIFICATION: What allegedly happened between Sakura and Itachi was NOT consensual.

And before any Itachi fans come for me, Itachi is one of my favourite characters, I have just subverted some character traits for some characters in order to tell my story.

If you're thinking 'What is going oooon?', don't worry... I felt the same way whilst writing LOL. Actually I'm joking, I have everything planned out. The various things that happened in this chapter I decided were important when thinking about the entirety of this fanfic, as a whole - the bigger picture.

Also I cannot stand Sakura/Sasuke with anyone else but themselves so it was really hard to write this chapter which is one of the reasons why it took longer than usual. But going forward, I think the updates might be a bit slow, sorry!

I was also really nervous about writing this chapter too, so if you liked it please let me know (so I don't like, you know, delete it off the face of the internet...).

Predictions? Constructive criticism? Anything that needs clarification? Don't be shy, comment below! :)

AUs are so hard to write - please be nice.