(A/N) The update was a bit later than usual. Sorry, I was sidetracked. ADHD, and all that. Anyway, this is another short chapter, but I didn't want to overload it with too much. So yeah. Plain and simple. Enjoy

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or Painted by Evans Blue.

Painted

To Be Here Again

Look before you end it all.
Look before you shut your eyes
For the last time.
There's no more room to go back down.
Your picture trends in black and white
(I will show you)
I will show you what it's like.

-

His face clawed its way into her mind during work. It remained the entire day. Sakura couldn't begin to comprehend why he had visited her. He wasn't supposed to be in the village, let alone her room.

Her patient was one she hadn't seen in years.

"Well, Sai, what is it today?" she asked monotonously.

"I have a bruise on my cheek and a wound on my side," he stated, just as monotonously.

The two were quite alike, only Sai did not have any emotions to suffer from. He knew not to ask her why she hadn't been showing up for training. Even after Naruto left and Kakashi was killed, Yamato and the two still trained. Then Sakura's world collapsed when Ino died, and she stopped altogether. On that day, another piece of her was torn from her body and she was left to bleed.

"I have a painting to show you," Sai stated as Sakura's hands healed.

He nodded over to the corner of the room, where the orderly who brought him in must have placed it. She looked at it for a second. There were no colors, only a black and white landscape. It was good, but not of Sai's quality.

"Different," was all she said.

Sai smiled as he always did. "I know."

Sakura stole a glance at it again. Black and white. It was a beautiful concept, one she has learned to live with. Unfortunately, Itachi's words were called forth. The world isn't black and white. To her it was, and she didn't need him to prove her wrong. She was fine with the monochrome view she had.

Sai slept after she was finished. He looked peaceful, but she didn't notice. She just continued to work. At the end of the day, she walked home alone in herself. Hesitant to step into her apartment, she stood out in the cold a few moments. Winter was coming. She could tell. She didn't mind it, though. Walking in, she saw Itachi on her living room couch. He would remain despite her pleas.

"How long did you wait?"

He looked at her, but didn't answer.

"How long will you stay?"

He didn't answer. She didn't talk. They just stared at each other, wondering what the other wanted (needed). They were both lost, and it was a welcoming numb.

"Sit," Itachi said.

Sakura didn't argue, even though it was her apartment. She should be commanding him, but she didn't have the energy or the nerve. She was reminded of his killing spree and felt a bit of hate crawl up in her throat. It's the first thing she's felt in a while. If he wasn't a killer and she wasn't broken, they might have had a normal conversation. However, it was not the case. They didn't ask any questions. They just looked at the fuzz on the television screen. It hummed in their heads.

Black and white.

The little beings that moved spasmodically across the screen were black and white, and beautiful. They entranced her and pulled her in. The numbness buzzed. She felt her hand being taken. She looked at Itachi. He looked at her wrist. It was covered in new marks that she hastily tried removed.

"You'd even do it in a hospital," Itachi said.

Sakura was almost walked in on. She tried her best to erase the cuts, but they were still apparent.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

Sakura pulled her arm away. She didn't like his touch. It reminded her of the past. He still had those gentle hands he used to stroke her hair with. They didn't feel like the hands of a murderer.

"Of course it doesn't," he said mockingly. He thought her a fool.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to look around."

He didn't say he wanted to help her. He didn't say he could. He just wanted her to realize what was left.

"What do you mean?" Sakura asked.

"You don't see how far you have gotten," he replied, staring at the screen. "You only see how far you should have gotten."

"Why do you care?"

She was right. Why did he care? He still felt she was a child, just like his little brother. She still felt like she was his to protect. He was a fool, too. He could never protect her and shouldn't even want to.

Sakura no longer cared for his answer. He was taking too long. So they just sat and watched the static, content to roam inside their minds.

-

Sakura made her decision, and it was one she approached with intrepidness. Itachi's appearance was the last straw. She looked at the syringe filled with anesthetic. It was suiting. Anesthetic was used to save the patient from experiencing pain; she was going to use it to erase it altogether. She pushed up her sleeve and placed the tip of the needle to the vein jutting from her elbow. In the supplies closet, no one could see her.

"There's no more room to go back down, so I suggest you remove that needle."

The syringe was taken from her hand. She looked up at Itachi.

"Are you following me?" she asked. Her tone was hollow as ever.

"Perhaps," was all he said.

What he didn't say was that he had to, not only because she would do something stupid (such as inject her body with too much anesthetic), but because he worried. It was dangerous for him to do that, but he couldn't help that she was a danger to herself. Even if he had to watch her crumble and fall, he'd be there, desolate and waiting.

"Why did you stop me?" Sakura asked. To her surprise, her voice was shaky. Only a bit. "You wouldn't have to worry about me anymore."

I choose to worry about you, Itachi wanted to say. However, something stopped him. It was the look on her face. She was trying to be strong, holding herself together by crossing her arms. He could tell she wanted to be strong again, and having him worry about her didn't help. Sakura would have someone to depend on, and what she needed was to depend on herself.

"You're going home," Itachi said instead.

She looked at him. Apathy was all he saw. He left, and even though he wasn't there, she knew he was watching her. He would know whether she stayed or not.

She left.

-

Sakura went to bed without releasing her pain. There was no way to empty her mind. The fear twisted her stomach and her memories. They haunted her, these images of what once was. Tsunade's crumbling face entered her mind's mirror, and she opened her eyes. Itachi was sitting in that chair.

"You're a very annoying plague," she said. She didn't sound annoyed.

He stood and walked over to the bed. "Tell me, why have you given up?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. It was useless. She knew what he meant. "I've been left behind my entire life. Everyone I love…everything I know. It all disappeared."

"Not all of it," Itachi said.

The meaning of that simple sentence rand through her conscience. "Does it matter?" she asked, a bit of pain entering that hollow voice.

He didn't respond, but turned to leave. Her hand clutched his cloak.

"Stay."

Itachi sat in the chair. He didn't care why she wanted him to stay. Maybe she was trying to pull herself together, or maybe she wanted to see if he would. Either way, he remained a statue in the room, forever standing.

He wanted to tell her what it was like to be painted, to be whole. He wanted to show her what it was like.

To be here again.

-

(A/N) Itachi is starting to seem like Big Brother. Sorry, I just read 1984. Great book. Anyway, if you're confused what it means by 'to be here again', Itachi wants her to be back to herself, and not in her sick world. How romantic. Some may say he's out of character, but he's not the bad guy we all used to think he was. Sorry for the short chapter, but yeah. Deal with it. ;) Review for fried chicken. I love fried chicken…