Vespertine

Chapter Eight: The Conflict


There is something in your eyes

Flowing them over

Stealing all the harmony which lives in me

Your hands are covering my tears


It took three days of hurried travel to reach Moyama. Sakura was anxious the whole way, concerned about Itachi and how he'd fared since she'd left. She thought about him often, feared he might have relapsed and was eager to disprove it. At the same time she was nervous to see him because she had no idea how to tell him about his brother.

A warm front had swept over the region and the snows of early winter were delayed, replaced by a steady, drizzling rain, the air saturated with cold moisture. It was the worst weather possible for a lung disease such as Itachi's, but traveling south was too dangerous with Itachi not recovered enough to respond to threats and fight alongside her. Besides, their secluded little cabin out in the middle of nowhere was perfect for hiding Itachi's existence and the purpose of their arrangement.

With no need to stop, Sakura bypassed the village proper and continued into the misty foothills. The forest was still and peaceful, its resident creatures silent as they sheltered from the rain. Her perimeter was intact but weakened by days of neglect; she would have to renew it as soon as possible. Though Itachi's chakra was perfectly concealed as usual, she could still feel his presence as she entered the clearing. However, she couldn't tell anything about his state from this distance. She let her own chakra leak out a little to announce her arrival, but it was probably unnecessary; he could feel her too.

She couldn't deny that she rushed the last few steps to the house, but regained herself enough not to look too anxious as she all but flew through the door.

What greeted her was a rather anticlimactic scene: Itachi, perfectly fine, sitting by the fire reading the book she'd given him. Over the course of three days her mind had dredged up fears of finding him unconscious on the floor…or worse. He rose and turned to her, calm and unemotional as ever.

Filled with relief and a genuine happiness to see him, Sakura smiled. "Hi."

"Welcome back."

"How are you feeling?" She set her pack on the table and began removing her outerwear. "Any fevers or chills? Any coughing blood?"

Itachi shook his head once. "I've had occasional difficulty breathing, some coughing…but never with blood."

Thankfully he hadn't regressed more severely. "That's great. I'd like to do a session right away though, once I unpack."

Itachi watched her as she moved around and rifled through her pack. In the week she'd been away, Sakura had almost forgotten the slightly awkward, pleasantly flattered feeling his focused attention always gave her. As she unsealed the storage scroll and laid the more gratuitous items on the table, she happened to notice Itachi's expression sharpen, and a certain glint in his eye gave her the feeling that what she was seeing was probably his version of enthusiasm. She followed his gaze to…a box of dango.

"You like dango?" she asked, amused.

"I like most sweets."

Sakura raised a brow. "Interesting. I would have expected you to be kind of a health nut."

"As a child I was forced to be. We were never allowed anything not strictly nutritional."

"Why not?"

"Indulgence is weakness," he said, lips twisting faintly in irony. "When I became able to make my own choices, I developed a liking for all things sweet."

Sakura couldn't understand why a parent would deny their children a few simple pleasures, to let them be children, occasionally. Sasuke still refused to eat junk food to this day, as far as she knew. It was interesting and a little funny that Itachi—the perfect, celebrated heir—was the rebel of the family, while Sasuke was the traditional conservative.

"Well then," she tore open the plastic covering and pulled out two sticks, grinning as she handed him one, "enjoy."

Itachi's lips curved in faint amusement as he took her offering and bit into the first portion. They were silent for a minute, enjoying the mildly sweet flavor of their treats. Sakura wondered how long it might have been since Itachi had last enjoyed something like this.

"Do you like persimmons?" she asked him, indicating the small net bag of little orange fruits. "They were a gift." As she'd left her house in the early hour before dawn she'd discovered the bag on her doorstep with a note from Ino's mother, telling her to be safe and hoping the fruits would remind her of home. Ino must have told her about the extended mission. Sakura's own mother had passed two years ago, and since then Mrs. Yamanaka—who'd been a good friend of her mother and whom Sakura had known all her life, growing up in the house next door—had taken to looking after her in little ways like this.

"I do." He stared at the bag, suddenly recalling an almost forgotten memory: a sweltering autumn afternoon when he was very young, Sasuke only a toddler. As Konoha's youngest prodigy, he was often shown unsolicited favoritism by the villagers, and a woman in the market had given him an armful of the succulent fruit on his way home. He'd shared them with his brother on the back porch, bare feet dangling over the edge while Sasuke laughed at the ducks in the pond as they dipped and bobbed, exposing their feathered tails. His father had come upon them and reprimanded him for teaching Sasuke bad habits. He'd thought his father unreasonably stern, and avoided him the rest of the day. It was the first time he had regarded either of his parents as fallible. "I haven't eaten one in many years," he said quietly. "It's very…nostalgic."

Sakura wondered if that was a good or a bad thing, but refrained from asking. She put the fruit by the kitchen window to ripen further and then finished unpacking. Afterward she had Itachi lie on the bed for a reevaluation of his health.

She was slow and meticulous, probing his organs and internal systems thoroughly in a way she hadn't done since the initial examination in the clinic. She used the opportunity to tell him about her talk with Tsunade.

"I'm surprised the Hokage knew as much as she did," Itachi said when she'd finished.

"No kidding," she stated dryly. It still bothered her that nothing could be done immediately. Itachi was unfazed by the news that he would remain a missing-nin—he'd probably expected it. He wasn't an optimist like her. "Why didn't you tell me you were Jiraiya's contact?"

"I didn't think it mattered."

Sakura frowned at him. "Of course it matters! It's the only proof aside from your own word that you were never an enemy of Konoha."

"Well," he said slowly, "as you know, I never intended that fact to be exposed either."

She supposed he had a point, though it was a little troubling that he still seemed to have no interest in his own exoneration. She sighed quietly and let the matter go. "At any rate, it looks like we'll be here a while, until you're fully ready."

Silence fell between them as the healing continued. She pushed back his sleeve to feel his pulse, then moved her other hand under his shirt and over his abdomen, up to his lungs.

Itachi closed his eyes, very subtly clenched his jaw against the sensations she was causing with her seemingly innocuous touch. The way the pad of her thumb brushed across the thin skin on the inside of his wrist, her other hand moving over his chest…every time her skin touched his, her chakra surged through his cells to meet its counterpart, sending little currents and shivers through his veins and pathways. He had never felt anything like it and…it was not unpleasant. Indeed, it had the opposite effect, and he was growing irritated at his lack of control over it. Time and distance were supposed to have eradicated this phenomenon, or at the very least diminished it. It was stronger than ever. He was beginning to feel a compelling urge to grab her hands and…

He did not want to finish that thought.

Although she hid it well, Sakura was also acutely aware of the skin on skin reaction. She hadn't yet released his wrist, and was therefore aware of his pulse jumping as she ran her other hand over his torso. Goosebumps rose on his arms. Her fingertips tingled as she touched him. It seemed the time apart had hyper-sensitized the chakra connection, the opposite of what she'd expected. She should have spoken to Tsunade about it, but she'd been reluctant to admit what was happening, afraid she would be judged unfit for the mission—which was far from accurate despite this…problem. Itachi's breathing was deep and even, his eyes firmly closed, and she suspected he was trying to meditate to calm the automatic reaction of his body.

There was more to it than the biochemical reaction of their chakras, however. For Sakura, touching him in and of itself provided its own sensation. She had finally acknowledged her attraction to him, and now she couldn't help but be aware of him in that way; aware of the smoothness of his pale skin and the striking contrast of his long dark hair against it, the contours of lingering muscle definition beneath her hands…she observed his build and imagined what his body must have looked like before he fell ill, what it would look like again when he was well…. She wanted to touch places that weren't necessary to her exam.

That was when she realized this exam was proving unnecessarily awkward and uncomfortable for both of them, and was dangerously close to crossing a professional line. Her chakra output ceased and she rose from the edge of the bed, looking at anything but him.

Itachi immediately sat up, as if he felt there was suddenly some unacceptable vulnerability in lying down. His eyes were clouded as he glanced at her, wary, and for a moment seemed almost…accusatory.

His sudden distrust annoyed her; she hadn't done it on purpose! It was just as unsettling to her as it was to him, perhaps more so because she was the medic and she was the one supposed to be able to explain these things! After three weeks they still hadn't talked about it, and she found herself still unable to do so now. She mentally searched for something—anything—else to say.

"Are you hungry?" she blurted. "I can make some dinner."

"I ate a while ago," he answered flatly.

"Oh, okay." She chewed her lower lip a moment. "Do you need anything else?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "I can make tea—"

Suddenly he was glaring at her. "I am not an invalid, Sakura; I don't need to be coddled."

He hadn't snapped at her like that since their first conversation in the clinic and Sakura was taken aback, chagrined and a little offended. She didn't understand where this unexpected hostility came from. But, then again…maybe she did.

"Right. Sorry," she muttered. A long, uncomfortable moment passed before she added, "I need to go restore the perimeter."

Itachi said nothing, actually seemed to be ignoring her. Sakura quickly donned her coat and went outside. It had been an excuse to get away, but an honest one. She followed the invisible circular border through the forest, replacing the chakra netting along the ground and in the trees, all the while thinking about what was happening between them.

While the connection exacerbated the situation, it was obvious now that it wasn't the root of the problem. Extreme proximity, prolonged isolation from other people, and the increasingly annoying chakra bond had made it nearly impossible to ignore the fact that she was attracted to him, strongly, and for all Itachi's emotional and physical reserve, she suspected she was not the only one unexpectedly affected by hormones. The idea of Itachi even having hormones made her laugh aloud, startling a bird from its nest.

The situation was problematic in many ways, but Sakura was too intrigued by the possibilities and frankly, too drawn to the impossibly handsome and fascinating man sharing her living quarters to really convince herself she shouldn't allow any further incidents to happen. It was a completely new sensation to her, different from any crush or youthful fantasy she'd had before. She wanted to see where it might go.

Her resolve grounded her and gave her some clarity over the matter, and when she returned to the cabin and went inside, she no longer felt awkward in Itachi's presence. She stripped off her coat and sat in front of the fire to warm herself.

For his part, Itachi seemed to have regained his usual composure, and joined her a moment later. "When would it be feasible to resume training exercises?"

It must be driving him crazy to be so unfit, she realized. Not to mention he was cooped up in this tiny cabin all day with nothing to do but read. "Within the next couple of weeks, probably. As long as it's light stuff: target practice, basic kata… I know you'll hate to hear this, but you'll pretty much have to start all over again and rebuild your stamina, or else you run the risk of permanent disability."

Itachi nodded acceptingly, aware of the risks of pushing oneself beyond capable limits. They fell silent for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"I apologize…for before," he said, eyes fixed on the fire.

"There's no need," she replied quietly. "You were right. But I was away for so long, I guess I felt I needed to do something…" It also occurred to her that she may have been unconsciously trying to preemptively placate him, to relax him and make it as easy as possible to tell him about Sasuke. The longer she waited the harder it would be, she knew. Now that they were both calm, it was as good a time as any. She took a deep breath, met his gaze. "There was more news from Konoha…"

She spoke slowly and reservedly as she related what she'd learned, not wanting her own anger on the matter to influence him. Sasuke was in league with Madara and had joined Akatsuki. He had attacked and captured the eight-tail jinchuuriki, the Raikage's brother, on the organization's behalf, causing an international incident. He knew about the massacre and who was truly responsible, and based on their latest information, the probability was high that he intended to attack Konoha for revenge.

It was exactly as Itachi had predicted. Though he hadn't known about Akatsuki's part, he wasn't shocked to hear it as Sakura had been. After all it was Madara's organization, how he covered his movements. He may not have been completely surprised, and he gave no obvious sign of anger, but Sakura had learned to read him in little ways and she saw the hints of deeply restrained emotion; a clenched jaw, a brooding, preoccupied look in his dark eyes, the extreme stillness and tension in his body.

Several minutes passed in heavy silence and Itachi didn't respond—he had completely withdrawn into himself in thought, and barely seemed to register her presence. Sakura didn't know what to say; everything sounded hollow and inadequate in her mind.

Suddenly she felt very tired; three days of stress and hurried, anxious travel had caught up with her. She murmured that she was going to go lie down for a while—he didn't acknowledge her—and left him by the fire. Since he wasn't using it at the moment, she felt no qualms about crawling onto the bed and immediately falling asleep.

#

She woke to the sound of thunder. The light outside had darkened to flat gray under the storm, and a steady muted drumming beat against the roof above. Her internal clock told her it was sometime in the early evening.

Lying there for a moment as her eyes adjusted to being awake, she began to sense that something wasn't right with her surroundings. It wasn't just darker outside, it was darker inside as well, because the fire had dwindled to little more than embers. It was unnaturally quiet. Unnaturally still; she didn't feel the presence of another living thing in the room with her. She sat up in bed and looked around to find a dim, empty room. The only sounds were the rain and her own breathing.

Itachi was gone.

Already knowing it was pointless to call out to him, Sakura was on her feet in an instant, not bothering to grab her coat as she ran out the door.

The clearing was empty. No sign of his passage. She ran to the middle of the open area and looked around helplessly. Her tracking skills were average and Itachi was one of the most elusive missing-nin in the five nations. How could she have been so stupid?She'd known he was upset! She should have known he wouldn't take it passively.

Sakura began to panic. He was going to kill himself. There was no way he was well enough to travel long distances, and he certainly wasn't ready to confront anyone in a fight if he did manage to get where he was going. She had to find him immediately, but how? Should she run toward Konoha and hope to encounter him on the way? Should she use the scroll Tsunade had given her, summon Kakashi, and have him utilize his elite tracking skills or even his dogs to find Itachi?

Realizing that desperation was making her irrational, she forced herself to stop and breathe. Calm down. Think, she told herself. He couldn't have gone far, couldn't have slipped past her perimeter…right? She didn't know if such a thing was possible, but if it was, she supposed Uchiha Itachi would probably be able to do it.

Suddenly she realized there was a way to find him…

Sakura closed her eyes and breathed deeply, stilled her mind, and slowly extended her chakra outward and felt for him. She felt her own perimeter first, and because it was fresh, for a while it was difficult to focus on anything smaller or more distant. Several minutes passed as she concentrated, and she began to worry that he was hiding himself too well or that he was out of range. And then, very faintly, she felt it: a tiny prickle of her own chakra, diluted from mixing with his. Sakura frowned in dismay. He was well beyond her perimeter—the bastard—moving due south.

Moving as fast as she possibly could at chakra-enhanced speed, she caught up with him in less than a minute. Itachi had felt her approach and already stopped. She flickered into sight several feet in front of him, boots skidding slightly on rain-slick moss at her sudden stop.

Anger rose in the wake of her earlier panic. "Are you an idiot? What the hell are you doing out here!"

Itachi's only response to the obvious question was a brooding glare, not bothering to conceal his anger. He was soaked to the skin and ghostly pale under the diffused greenish light of the deep forest.

Equally soaked, Sakura pushed her drenched hair from her face and slowly took a step toward him. "How is killing yourself going to help matters? Because that's exactly what you're doing by taking off like this before you're ready. I thought Sasuke was the reckless one."

His scowl only deepened. "The situation is worse than I anticipated," he said flatly. "There is no time to wait."

"So what are you going to do, fight Madara and Sasuke and Kisame and anyone else who happens to be around?" she cried incredulously. "Gods, Itachi, you're not thinking!"

"Just because it makes no sense to you does not make it irrational or erroneous, Sakura."

"You're going to end up dead!"

His weighted silence told her everything. She wanted to slap him. He had just gotten his life back, and he wanted to throw it away again! Anger and frustration and sorrow all welled up inside of her at once. She regretted telling him. The corners of her eyes stung; it hurt to care about someone who didn't care about himself.

"Don't do it like this," she implored softly.

The forest was silent around them, the only sound the occasional drip-drip of rain falling from the foliage to the mossy earth. Itachi looked off into the trees and sighed.

"This is not what I wanted for my brother," he said at length. "This is the very opposite. I have failed him."

Sakura shook her head. "No." Cautiously, she approached him until they were nearly toe to toe and reached up, touched her fingertips to his jaw, silently requesting his gaze return to her. It did, and the weight of it momentarily caught her breath in her throat. "No, Itachi…he has failed you."

Itachi just stared at her for the longest time, dark eyes clouded with an unreadable intensity. Then he closed his fingers around her hand, slowly rubbed the pad of his thumb across the inside of her wrist, as she'd done to him earlier.

Her pulse quickened at the contact, and she found herself unable to look away.

"You're right," he said mutedly. He slowly lowered her hand, but didn't release her. "But I set him on this path, and I am the only one who can stop him."

"And you will. But it doesn't have to be this way." She took a small step closer. "Come back with me."

Caught up in the moment and his magnetic gaze, Sakura wasn't really aware of what she was doing, of the nature of her persuasion. Itachi was fully aware, however, and her unconsciously seductive actions had the opposite effect of their intention. His expression darkened, and his grip on her wrist tightened.

"Why do you even care what happens to me, Sakura?" he demanded. "Why do you help me?"

Sakura was taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. It was her mission. She was ordered to. But that wasn't the only reason anymore. "Because I—"

Itachi read the compassion and affection in her expressive eyes and didn't let her finish. "I don't need your sympathy. I don't deserve your kindness. You know what I am…what I've done. Do not forget it because an unusual side-effect has made you think you feel close to me. I've killed countless innocent people. Weak and defenseless people. Elders…children."

His features darkened bitterly. "There is something fundamentally…twisted, inside of me. It should make you afraid." He shifted closer to her in a way that was unmistakably intimidating, and his eyes bled crimson with the emerging Sharingan. Not since he attacked her in the clinic had he activated his doujutsu. The hand not holding her wrist rose to her face and cold fingers trailed down to her throat where they rested lightly against her exposed skin. The sinister message was very clear, yet behind the anger his eyes held a burning curiosity, as though for all his genius intellect, he just couldn't figure her out. "Why aren't you afraid of me?" he murmured.

Honestly she was a little unnerved. A dangerous, emotionally distraught man had his hand around her throat—even if his touch was as soft as a caress, his eyes were far from gentle. Sakura had not forgotten that despite the truth of his past there was still a dark edge to this man. He did terrible things at a very young age and then spent the next decade of his life among the cruelest, most violent people imaginable. He had played the villain masterfully, and that had required him to do things to cement his cover. It was impossible for anyone to not be affected by that kind of life. That darkness of his past would always be with him, another stain on an already scarred psyche. Sakura knew these things, just as she knew there were things about Itachi that were not part of his facade. He was ruthless when he needed to be, and often had a detached, calculatingly efficient way of looking at things, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to do what he'd done.

But Sakura had seen the man he truly was, at first through the chakra bond and later through the gradual trust and openness they had established. She didn't believe he would hurt her. She didn't think he had ever truly wanted to hurt anyone. Except for Madara.

"Because you're a good man," she answered steadily. "One of the most noble and honorable I've ever met."

Itachi actually scoffed at her. "I'm not a good man," he retorted coldly. "I repeatedly tortured Sasuke—my own little brother—so that he would want to kill me…to release me from this existence. It would have been kinder to let him die that night, but I kept him alive out of guilt. I forced him to live a pathetic life full of suffering, to ease my own burden. I worked for Akatsuki willingly, participated in their atrocities, all so that I could get closer to Madara and have a chance to kill him for my own personal revenge."

Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but Itachi wasn't finished, and showed it by applying the slightest pressure against her throat.

"As much as Sasuke deserves to hate me…there is a part of me that hates him as well," he declared with a quiet scorn that Sakura knew wasn't for her. "I gave up everything for him…and he spits on my sacrifice. I never wanted him to learn the truth, but he has, and this is what he does with it. At times – like now – I think I resent him as much as I care for him." His expression was cold, self-loathing. "There is nothing noble about me, Sakura, and you would do well to learn that."

Sakura's expression only softened as she gazed into his swirling eyes without fear. "I understand," she said. "You're only human. You have a right to want a life for yourself, to have or do something that doesn't revolve around someone else. With the way Sasuke is acting right now you have every right to be pissed off and disappointed. You have a right to want revenge for what was done to you. It's okay to be selfish sometimes."

The lethal crimson faded from his eyes, leaving them dark and clouded once more. He watched her closely a moment, then his hand rose to her face, knuckles brushing softly across her jaw line before he released her completely. "If you knew the depths of my selfishness you would not say such a thing."

Inexperienced as Sakura was, there could be no mistaking the intent behind his words. Her stomach curled with a nervous excitement. The way he was looking at her filled her with an unfamiliar tension that was still a little frightening, but at the same time…she wanted him to touch her again. She recalled the moment earlier as she healed him, the thoughts she'd had and the way he'd reacted to her touch. Would he react similarly if she touched him again, without chakra?

Acting on an impulse driven by compassion, Sakura closed the distance between them and slipped her arms around his shoulders. Though he didn't stop her, Itachi went completely still as she pressed herself to him and rested her chin on his collarbone. "It will be all right," she promised softly. Her fingers twisted into the wet strands of his ponytail as she continued to stand there, resting against him.

Itachi tensed; her closeness, her warmth, her scent overlaid his turbulence, and though overwhelming, the thought of preventing her or moving away hadn't actually occurred to him. For the first time in a long time, his mind was wiped completely blank. The only thing in his head at the moment was the vague notion that having one's hair tugged like that was not supposed to be a pleasant sensation…

As his thought processes gradually returned he realized she was getting to him. He had thought out his decision thoroughly as he always did and was firm in his resolve, yet here he was…conflicted. Slowly, not really sure of his own reasons for doing so, he awkwardly returned her embrace, lightly curved his fingers around the back of her neck. He heard her breath catch slightly. She was so small and soft and…trusting. It would be effortless to break her when she let her guard down like this. It would be nothing to render her unconscious, allowing him to continue on his way without having to harm her. But as her warmth seeped into him through their soaked clothing, relaxing him, he began to realize that he no longer favored his original plan.

Part of him—a bigger part than he had previously acknowledged—wanted to give in, to stay. With Sakura. Part of him was starting to believe that sacrificing himself again for his previous goals wasn't worth it. Part of him was starting to think he wanted to live and have a life of his own, just as she'd said.

It was unclear how long they stood in that tentative embrace, but eventually, Itachi was the one to slowly pull back. Sakura released her arms from around his neck and immediately felt chilled in the places where their bodies had connected.

She ran her fingers through her sopping hair. "If we stay here any longer we'll both end up sick." She gave a small, almost playful smile and softly repeated, "Come back with me."

This time, Itachi agreed. Sakura reached out and gently took hold of his hand, and he offered no resistance as she began leading the way back.

They were silent the whole way, but when they entered the cabin Sakura turned to Itachi and toldhim to go change into dry clothes. While he was in the washroom she hastily did the same, and was rebuilding the neglected fire when he came out again. He looked exhausted and far too pale. She retrieved one of the extra blankets from the foot of the bed and went to him.

"Here," she said quietly, wrapping it around his shoulders. Her hands curled around the edges of it and lingered there, resting against his chest. "I know it's not easy to be so removed from the world, with all that's happening. But try to have a little faith. Sasuke is being manipulated, and no matter how hurt and angry he is…he's smart enough to realize that. He may even have some ulterior motive in joining with Madara."

He gave her a dry look. "You tell me to have faith…it's obvious that you don't even believe your own words, Sakura."

"Maybe not," she admitted soberly, "Maybe I don't believe in Sasuke because he's let me down too many times. But I do believe in Naruto. We'll find Sasuke together and you, Naruto, or all of us will either get through to that bastard…or we will stop him."

"It pains you to admit the latter possibility," he discerned quietly.

"Of course it does. But I'm not as naïve as I used to be."

"But you still hope."

Sakura held his searching gaze and softly replied, "I hope for a lot of things."

Itachi understood her meaning, even if Sakura only half understood it herself. His face went carefully blank, but his eyes darkened with an intensity that did the strangest things to her insides. Such a long silence passed between them that she began to wonder if he would say anything. She had left a door open but he wasn't walking through. Deciding she should stop now before she embarrassed herself, she loosened her hold on the blanket and dropped her eyes, intending to back away.

That was when Itachi leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

Her tiny sound of surprise quickly evolved into a sigh as she responded, hands coming to rest on his chest once more. His fingers tangled gently in her hair, brushed the slender curve of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken. For once he didn't think about what he was doing or what he should do, only knew that he needed to. Her lips against his were the softest and sweetest thing he'd ever felt in his life.

Sakura had only been kissed a couple of times before but it had been nothing like this. Itachi's kiss was unexpectedly tentative, lacking the confidence he usually displayed, but felt barely restrained, as if he were desperately searching for something within the moment, within her. That pure rawness of feeling drew her in, enveloped her completely.

Somehow they moved together and bumped the edge of the table. Sakura shifted until she was half seated on it, and slid her arms around his neck. The table wobbled slightly and he steadied her with an arm around her waist, fingers splaying across the small of her back, pressing her forward. The blanket fell from his shoulders to the floor.

Slowly they tested each other's responses, cautiously discovering, mouths hovering a fraction apart for only a moment before meeting again. What was most surprising, to both of them, was how natural it felt to take this step, how…comforting.

Gradually they lost some of their mutual hesitancy and became more passionate. When Sakura tapped the tip of her tongue against his he responded in kind. A moment later his tongue swept against hers fully, and Sakura's knees nearly gave out. Something warm stirred deep in her belly, and a tiny sound of pleasure escaped the back of her throat. The inside of her thigh rubbed against the outside of his, and in her desire to feel him closer, she hooked her leg around his knee, tugged her fingers through the still-damp hair at his nape and pulled him against her.

Her boldness seemed to ignite something in Itachi and he groaned, deep in his chest – a low, primal sound that was barely audible, yet caused the warm pulsing in her core to spike sharply. He leaned over her as their kiss deepened further, and Sakura leaned with him, angling backward inch by inch until she had to brace one hand on the tabletop to keep steady.

Suddenly Itachi tensed, his fingers clenched almost painfully into her lower back. Before Sakura could ask what was wrong, his shoulders hunched and he ducked to the side as the cough he'd tried to suppress escaped his throat. It started as little breathless spasms and quickly grew worse until he all but fell against her.

As she'd learned early on, there was really nothing she could do for him until it passed, and so Sakura held him, ran her hands soothingly over his shaking shoulders while wondering what triggered the sudden fit; whether it was his reckless venture into a thunderstorm, or perhaps what they had been doing a moment ago. There was no blood, and it passed soon, leaving Itachi tired and breathless.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, cupping his face as she angled to look at him.

Itachi nodded faintly and carefully straightened. Their eyes met, and it was clear neither of them regretted what they had done. But the mood was lost now, and he slowly disentangled from her, moved back to allow her to stand.

Sakura smoothed her tousled hair, thought about how it got that way, and broke out in a sweet, almost giddy smile. "You should lie down for a while," she said. "I'll make some tea."

She made her favorite, one that she'd brought from Konoha, and sweetened it with honey. If Itachi liked things sweet, she wondered how he'd managed to stomach the bitter medicinal teas she'd been making him drink unsweetened; he'd never once complained or even made a face.

The fire was blazing once more, and the room had returned to its normal state of toasty warm. Itachi was resting atop the covers, half sitting against the headboard with his arms folded over his middle. Sakura offered his cup and then joined him, sitting at the edge of the bed.

"So. How did you get past my perimeter?" she asked him, still a little irked by that fact. "Is there even a point in having one if any random s-classed shinobi can just waltz right through undetected?"

"I knew it was there," he said simply. "An enemy wouldn't have that advantage."

Sakura gazed at him, and a surge of warmth filled her at the memory of their kiss. She scooted further onto the bed, until her thigh pressed alongside his. "Hm. Okay. Maybe you could show me how you did it sometime."

Her words reminded her of what she'd said to him that night in the clinic: 'Well maybe you can teach me all your fancy little tricks sometime, Mister Perfect Shinobi.' That bitter, ironic expression, the basis for which she now understood, had crossed his face as he'd told her that he was far from perfect.

Itachi was thinking of that moment as well, and watched her pensively, thinking how he had displayed his flaws all too clearly today. He reached out, touched his fingertips to the skin of her throat. "Earlier, when I…"

He was about to apologize to her for the second time today, but Sakura cut him off by gently grabbing his hand, curling her fingers around his as she lowered them to her lap. "I know you wouldn't hurt me," she said softly.

"No, I wouldn't," he murmured, searching her face for some sign that would reveal how she was able to read him so well. She didn't know, and her easily granted trust was something that continued to confound him. And now she seemed to have ideas about him—about them—that were far too optimistic. "Not in that way, at least."

Sakura understood what he was implying, and concerns about where this would lead them had filled her mind as well. But she had already decided to take the risk. She believed it would be worth it.

She leaned down and softly pressed her lips to his. It was slow and sweet, a comforting gesture, telling him it would be all right. Again she felt the same hesitancy from him, like he wasn't used to this kind of thing. But he was responding; his hand even curved around the back of her neck, holding her in place. His touch was cool, but that wasn't what sent a tiny shiver down the length of her spine. She tasted tea and honey on his lips and wondered if she tasted just as sweet for him.

When she pulled back, she smiled at him. A moment later, she wordlessly took both cups and set them on the floor, then boldly cuddled up next to him and pulled the blankets over them both. "You're cold," was her explanation, though it was only half of her motivation. Itachi tensed slightly, unused to such prolonged contact with another person. Sakura, who was never shy about touch, belatedly realized that even though they may have made out on the kitchen table a few minutes ago, for him, all of this may be too much, too soon. "Is this okay?" she asked uncertainly.

Itachi didn't answer. She was certainly forward in her affections, but while it was admittedly strange, and he didn't really know what to do with himself, or with her, he also found it to be rather…pleasant. She was incredibly warm against his side, and once he was able to quiet the deeply ingrained cautions of letting someone so close, he decided that he liked her right where she was. He shifted a little and raised his arm to allow her a more comfortable position.

Sakura smiled and curled against him, laying her head in the hollow of his shoulder. They were quiet and still for several minutes, getting used to each other in this new way. For all her boldness, Sakura was also new to this kind of intimacy, and so when Itachi began playing idly with her hair, her insides fluttered furiously.

"Why do you keep it short?" He sounded very relaxed, almost drowsy.

"I cut it years ago, when I realized I was shallow and weak, and that as a shinobi my priorities were all wrong." That painful moment of epiphany was still vividly clear in her memory, and she was reluctant to admit her less than admirable past to him, who was so good at everything.

"But you are no longer weak," he countered mildly. "Your reputation is quite the opposite, so cropping your hair no longer makes the same statement."

Sakura glanced up at him. "Are you saying I should grow it?"

Itachi looked down at her, then at her hair, studying the color and texture, imagining how it would look—framing her face, spilling over her shoulders, blowing in the wind…he imagined how it would feel to weave his hands into long coral tresses. Finally, betraying nothing of the rather interesting images his mind was conjuring, he merely said, "…I believe it would suit you."

Sakura only smiled and nestled further into his side. She began to grow sleepy as Itachi continued his languid actions and she listened to the sounds around her; his steady, relaxed breathing, the soft crackle of the fire, the faint patter of rain on the roof. She was nearly asleep when he spoke again.

"Here, in this place…it sometimes feels like a different life," he said, voice barely a murmur. "And I feel…like a different man."

She lifted her head, saw his distant, contemplative expression and smiled. "You can finally be yourself again," she replied drowsily.

He seemed vaguely bemused. "I hardly know who that person is."

"I'm starting to know him," she returned, lowering her head to his shoulder again and laying her hand over his, "and I like him very much."

Itachi never replied, and soon Sakura was asleep. He remained awake for some time, reflecting on her words and all that had happened today. A few hours ago he had been fully prepared to throw everything away again. Now he was faced with the idea that there might be more to life than brutality, duty, and sacrifice.

His final thought as he drifted to sleep was: if he could have more moments like this, moments of peace and contentment where a beautiful girl put her arms around him and whispered words of hope and promise…maybe there was a reason to live, after all.


Next chapter: The Blurred Line