The counterstrike was swift and clumsy.
Calling it a counterstrike was actually being generous. To be expected, the first thing Orochimaru did was publicly announce his support for research in the cure. He loudly extended his aid and resources to Sakura via an open letter to the media. It was a standard move followed by a haphazard attempt to cause a hit-and-run.
Hardly something to be concerned over.
Itachi was prepared for such foolish tricks without even giving it prior thought. A few more attempts on his life were made, but all of the "accidents" were futile. It was almost embarrassing at times to think this was the level Orochimaru deemed acceptable for dealing with them. On the other hand, if this was a sign of their level of hysteria, then he was truly pleased. They had yet to make another move beyond those two things.
The following silence though was taking its toll.
Days passed in a flurry of interviews and press conferences without another strange occurrence. Sakura had been on the edge of her seat night and day, wondering what Orochimaru and his underlings would attempt to do. Even Kabuto hadn't shown his face—not that Sakura particularly wanted to deal with him. It was merely surprising that he hadn't sneaked into the hospital to harass her. Although two years had passed, her memories of him were fresh and cold.
On the surface, it seemed like Itachi and Kakashi were unconcerned about the situation, even going as far as to trivialize an assassination attempt. However, Sakura wondered if they too were beginning to feel the strain of silence.
Like being in a locked room for too long without human contact.
It was becoming increasingly impossible not to consider the possibilities. The silence was more unnerving than a full-frontal assault. Obviously, it was smartest and safest to keep themselves in the public eye, but it left her wanting. After all this time, they had finally caught wind of Orochimaru's operations via Itachi's return, but rather than storming his base, they were playing mind games.
Despite being a scientist and a medic, Sakura was so completely and utterly disinterested in manipulative matches such as the one they were currently embroiled in. Using her brain was exclusively for the betterment of society. Using her fists had become an option after Orochimaru drove a stake into her rekindled bonds.
But, it seemed like her fists would be seeing absolutely no action. Instead, she was fielding questions with a smile on her face while skillfully avoiding mentioning the Uchiha Family. When she wasn't being a spokesperson for her own research, she was scurrying around the hospital working with patients.
The entire routine was strangely…normal.
They were fighting a war on home turf, but no one knew. She was acting like a respectable member of society while looking over her shoulder every few seconds in fear of an assassin or a kidnapper—maybe both. What had her life become?
Was this what it actually meant to love an Uchiha? Even in the modern era, they were facing off against murderers ready to snipe them at a moment's notice.
Sakura questioned why she wanted something like this in her life. In the wee hours of the morning when the sun was just cresting over the horizon, she would quietly and shamefully think about an alternate world—one where none of this was real and no one was in danger.
A world where Sasuke wasn't the pitiful heir to an even more pitiful fate.
A world where Itachi didn't have to fear that his own thoughts could kill someone.
Honestly, she would normally laugh at her own thoughts then while burying her face in the slowly fading scent of Sasuke's pillows and blankets. How in this world had she ended up giving life to a fantastical horror? Ancient eye diseases? Super human powers? A battle for immortality? A mad scientist out for your blood? Hadn't she set their fates in motion by being too curious and too stubborn? What if she had just allowed Sasuke to lose his sight rather than fight for a cure?
Would they all be okay right now?
"Tomorrow we make the second announcement."
Sakura looked up from her dinner. They had taken to conducting meetings in the living room of the Uchiha estate. Although attending to their regular jobs was fine, they would be asking for trouble by spending too much time outside of the compound. When night fell, they were better off staying indoors where not even the most trusted guards were allowed to enter. Only the four of them were given access to the inner rooms.
"Already?" Sakura prompted, surprised.
"It appears that they do not plan on making a move, so we will force their hand," Itachi explained calmly. He poured another cup of tea for himself, bright eyes rimmed with dark circles. "Their halfhearted attempts at attacking us most likely made it clear that they could not combat our strategy with violence."
"Is provoking them the best option?" she responded, absently running a fingertip around the lip of her tea cup. "I'm tired of the silence but invoking the wrath of someone like Orochimaru worries me."
Kakashi smiled lightly at her from behind his mask. "I'm afraid we've already provoked him quite a bit. I agree with Itachi. We need to be bold while we still have the upper hand."
"Hey, I have a question."
Three pairs of eyes shifted to Naruto. The blond had been oddly quiet during these nightly discussions. Hearing him speak now was almost relieving. Sakura watched him intently, noting his drawn brows and tensed jaw.
"What is it?" Itachi murmured.
"Why haven't they just used Sasuke to try and make us shut up? Couldn't they send us threats to shut our mouths? Like they'll hurt teme or something if we don't stop?"
"They wouldn't bother," the elder Uchiha replied, sipping his tea thoughtfully. "It's an empty threat and we all are well aware of that. They wouldn't dare hurt Sasuke when they've invested such time and money into him. Torturing him further would only put themselves in a bad position. We have effectively gained the upper hand for the time being, therefore, it is best that we proceed as Kakashi put it: boldly."
Sakura grimaced. Was Sasuke really being treated well enough though? No. She gripped her cup tighter. Were they going to crush Orochimaru until he was nothing? Then what? "At what point do we retrieve Sasuke-kun?"
"When we are best positioned to infiltrate Orochimaru's labs."
"What if he kills him?" Sakura returned, sharper than she intended. Her eyes remained firmly on the steaming liquid in the ceramic cup. "He'll be cornered. His inhuman experiments will be exposed. Do you really think he won't try to destroy it all beforehand?" She swallowed hard, throat dry. "Sasuke-kun won't be precious to them anymore if Orochimaru is caught."
Naruto's gaze was always too honest. Too empathetic. Sakura refused to look at him despite his hand reaching out to her. Warm fingers curled over her own and she slowly released the death grip on her cup. "I'm not gonna let him die, Sakura-chan. I swear it."
"We don't even have a retrieval plan," she snapped, shutting her eyes tightly.
"In due time," Itachi watched her, speaking in a slow, soft voice, "we will determine the best way to bring my little brother home. We must see what card Orochimaru plays and from then, we will know the correct path to take." He paused briefly, seeming to consider his next words carefully. "Becoming impatient will make us clumsy. A game of strategy may cause greater strain, but it ultimately saves the most lives."
Sakura silently nodded. "Tomorrow then." She stood, leaving the room with a soft "good night." The sliding door shut noiselessly. Her retreating footsteps echoed down the hall.
A black muzzle. A blindfold.
Hunched shoulders. Calculated steps.
She stared on, frozen. His hair was longer. Lankier. Unwashed and uncared for. Battle hardened muscles flexed with each step he took. His image was flickering though. Like static on a screen. Between blinks, she swore he vanished, only to emerge startlingly closer.
And then a gloved hand was gripping her by the throat, lifting her up into the air. Ruthless. Efficient. Too cold.
Always cold these days.
She was smiling though. Through the tears. Through the broken gasps for air. Warm fingers curled around his steely grip. She wasn't trying to push him off though. There was no struggle.
Green eyes like springtime.
All for him.
His eyes opened slowly. The cell was dark. A single fluorescent lamp beyond the metal bars cast shadows all around. The soft scratching of a pen on paper could be heard between the hum of machines and snoring from the other experiments.
Fingers twitching, he peered down at one gloved hand. Warm. When was the last time a thought like that passed through his mind? That dream had left a lingering heat where there should've only been numbness.
But why her? Her face. Her eyes. Her smile. All of it drove him mad.
"You're awake, Sasuke-kun?" Kabuto. His leering face inched closer until it was mere inches from the bars. "How did you sleep?"
No response.
"Good," the researcher hummed. "I've got great news for you." Kabuto had always been a master of smiling. It was eerie. Unsettling. But right now, it was particularly hysterical. He waved over two orderlies. "It looks like you will finally be fulfilling your long-awaited mission. Aren't you excited? No more sitting in this dank cell all day," he chuckled.
The door groaned open. Sasuke stood slowly, noting that the assistants made no move to get closer to him. Automatically, he picked up the blindfold from the concrete bench and tied it over his eyes. Only then did he feel rough hands snatch him by the arms. They hauled him forward without an ounce of grace.
He followed their lead flawlessly, long since used to the fumbling of Orochimaru's guards. Kabuto's voice was in his ear a moment later, sending unpleasant tension through his muscles. "We—well not just we, rather, the entire world over has been informed of your family's degenerative ocular disease, courtesy of your lovely Sakura. She's truly a spitfire. I wonder how much of this plotting was her idea and how much of it was your dear brother's."
Sasuke usually tried to ignored Kabuto's ramblings. They were nonsense. Brother. What brother? Whose? He only felt frustration from such questions. The name "Sakura" was the only one that evoked a reaction.
It was the name of his target. Eyes like springtime. It made his blood boil. The life and light in a single human being shouldn't have been that bright. At least, he had no memories left to tell him otherwise. She was everything he could no longer recall.
It was painful.
Instead, he had her image in mind. Yet, they had become tied to jealousy and hatred and bloodlust. He was ready. He would suffocate all that she represented. It was everything he wasn't allowed to have anymore.
She would die, and he would be free of the aching longing for daylight.