The window ledge slid open as smoothly as it used to in her youth, when she used to go visit Itachi after receiving the crow's call, and she entered her room silently.

It was still dark outside when she clambered into her bedroom, feet landing softly on the carpet, as quiet as a cat. Her bedroom looked comforting and normal, unchanged despite the horrible events of the past few hours. She nearly collapsed on her bed in relief, grabbing her pillow and burying her face into it, curling up into a ball and just willing the pain to go away.

It was moments like this that she wished she hadn't thrown everything remotely childish out of her room in a fit of pique, taking out her anger on her room, smashing up furniture, breaking her mirror and all of the toys she'd ever owned. Her mother had silently taken her to buy more furniture the next day, making it clear that while she understood why Sakura had destroyed her room, she was still going to make her pay for the replacement furniture.

She desperately wished she still had some soft toys to hug and cry into, a child's response to pain and danger, burying your hurt in the things you took comfort in.

She'd left him there, lying in the forest, his neck covered in his own blood, face chalk-white, eyes gleaming from the light of the moon. Her feet had crunched over the leaves; the bare skin of arms stinging as she roughly pushed past trees and bushes, focusing on nothing but the target, her house. She had been thinking only of leaving him behind, putting more distance between them. The quicker she left, the more faint the memory.

She dragged herself to the bathroom after checking on her still-sleeping mother, one of her ankles twisted, her body just one mass of pain.

The bathroom was colder than the hallway, leaving Sakura's skin chilled as she sat on the bath's edge. She turned the hot tap on slowly, not wanting to wake her mother. The tub began to fill with water, the steam rising to fill the room, warming her exposed skin. She pulled her muddy clothes off one by one, a slow, difficult task hampered by her exhaustion and pain. She slipped off her sandals and climbed out of her shredded outfit carefully.

She turned off the tap and got into the tub, hissing at the shock of the hot water touching her cold skin. She slumped back, head lolling, arms limp. She felt as though she hadn't slept in a year. Her eyes shut against her will, water splashing as she sank down, only her head above water.

Her wet fingers brushed against her face, searching for wounds that would arouse suspicion. A bruise on her forehead, where she had head-butted Itachi, vanished as she healed it. Running out of chakra, she only had enough to wipe away a cut on her cheek and a few scrapes on her neck. She pulled her leg up and grasped her ankle, feeling for damage. It was only slightly twisted. She could heal it after she got some rest.

She was too tired even to cry. Her whole body ached and she burned with the shame of what she had done, the treason she had committed. She had managed to cut the throat of Uchiha Itachi, mass-murderer and missing-nin, and what did she do? She saved his life. She healed him. The man who had taken her life in his hands, controlled her, shaped her to be something like him, and then broke her. The man who was the reason…

The reason that Sasuke had left.

Sakura held a dripping hand up to her eyes to keep from crying.

She tried so hard not to think about it.

After Itachi had revealed what he had done to Sakura, after she and Sasuke had recovered from the mini-comas they'd been forced into, Sasuke had grown distant and cold. Whenever she tried to speak with him, to beg his forgiveness, to explain she hadn't known who Itachi was, he'd snap at her or just stare at her, silently accusing. It was that suspicion on his part that killed Sakura. To think the boy she'd admired so much could think she would betray him… It was unbearable.

The bathwater was quickly becoming dirty from the mud and blood Sakura had been caked in.

But at least no one could call her a murderer. Whilst Dosu had been in self-defence (she tried hard to forget that he had been down, bleeding, in pain, unable to defend himself…), she could reassure herself that if she had allowed Itachi to die, she would have been as evil as he was. Itachi had bared his throat willingly, possibly testing her, which meant she wasn't in danger at the time she struck.

She had watched those blood-red eyes close as he sank to the ground, had seen the pain he was in, had wanted to take away his suffering, to save him. It was simply because she was a nurse. Any other nurse would have done the same. There was something about being expected to kill as a kunoichi yet save as a nurse that made Sakura's relationship with death so very different from the other, more cavalier ninja. She knew what it felt like to take and to give life, and she knew which one she preferred.

But Itachi was a murderer. There could be no questioning that he would go on to kill people, possibly innocent defenceless people. She would be just as guilty as him. Could she really justify saving one man's life at the expense of so many others?

There was a knock on the door and Sakura jumped violently, splashing water out of the tub.

"Sakura?" Her mother said, her voice muffled, "Are you alright?"

Sakura turned on her side to peer at the door, "I'm fine! Just having a bath, I got too hot in bed."

There was a pause while her mother took this in, "Fine, but go back to bed soon, you need to sleep more, OK?"

"OK!" Sakura called back.

There were a few scratchy sounds as her mother walked off, her slippers scuffing against the carpet.

Sakura sighed. How could she have explained her battered state, or her torn clothes?

She despised lying to her mother. The woman always faithfully believed her, even after the entire village accused her of treason. Sakura felt awful whenever she lied to her, knowing she didn't deserve the deceit.

She got out of the bath abruptly, drying herself off with a towel, wincing at the rough material scraping her wounds. Her chakra had slightly replenished after the long soak, so she managed to fix her ankle enough so that she wouldn't limp.

What stung the most was the knowledge that Itachi hadn't once attempted to kill her. She'd been fighting with everything she had, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. The only time she'd managed to hurt him was when he willingly allowed her to. Her pride made it difficult to accept that she could not have even scratched the older man unless he wanted her to.

She could not even begin to understand his motives. Unlike that awful day in that hotel, he'd shown concern for her, and hadn't once tried to seriously injure or kill her. But he'd suddenly turned cold and mocking for a while, before switching to concerned and remorseful again. It was like watching an actor slip up and reveal his true self. She believed that his true self, buried deep beneath the false caring and good manners, was a psychopath. That scared her more than anything else, that such an evil man had hidden behind his caring 'sensei' persona, and she had fallen for it.

The fact that she was still alive meant he wanted something from her. Could he want her as an ally? No, she dismissed that train of thought instantly, he wouldn't give her that much credit. She wasn't an equal with him. Come to think of it, as a child, he'd always patted her on the head, praised her and scolded her, treated her more of a pet than a student. Perhaps he missed having someone to control or to kick around.

She put on some pyjamas and lay down in bed, feeling safe and clean for the first time that night. The covers were warm, and she let her eyes flutter close as sleep overcame her. She was asleep just as dawn began to rise.

xxxxxxxx

She was awoken by a pounding on the door. She jolted up in her bed, instantly cursing at the pain the sudden movement caused.

She waited hopefully to hear her mother answer the door. No such luck, the pounding continued. Sakura groaned and hauled herself out of bed, stubbornly ignoring the bloodstains on the bed sheets she'd have to hide later on.

The knocking only increased as she hobbled downstairs. She sped up a bit, irritated, and managed to get the door open without agitating her wounds too much.

"Yo!" Anko beamed at her, "Just wanted to see my favourite – hey, what the fuck?"

Sakura took a step back as the jounin approached, studying her face with a frown.

"You been on a mission lately?" Anko was eyeing her up and down speculatively and though Sakura knew logically she had covered up all of the bruises, she still panicked.

She crossed her arms defensively, "Yeah, I had to put some genjutsu on that –"

"And the bride-to-be, she didn't like what you did with your hair so she kicked the shit out of you?" Anko snorted, hand snatching out so quickly Sakura didn't have time to react. She grabbed the younger girl's wrist and, seeing her flinch in pain, pulled up her sleeve.

There was a quiet moment in which Anko's eyes flickered over the livid bruising on her wrist, some shaped exactly like an older man's fingers.

Anko looked up at her face, perhaps seeing how deathly pale she was or the huge bags under her eyes, and drew her into a hug instantly.

Sakura struggled, trying to break out of the tight embrace, but Anko refused to let go, "What happened?" She murmured, stroking her hair.

"Nothing." Sakura said stubbornly. If she told Anko about Itachi she'd freak out and the whole village would know and they'd all think she was a traitor again…

Anko pushed her back slightly, raising an eyebrow, "Don't lie to me. What happened?"

Sakura just looked away, jaw clenched.

"Right," Anko said, pushing past her completely, slamming the front door shut behind her, "Lemme guess. Your old sensei paid you a visit, huh? He still here? I wanna have words with that little –"

"No, he isn't here." Sakura said quietly. Normally she would have flared up defensively, denying he'd been anywhere near her but she was just so tired all of a sudden. Like all of the pain and suffering had finally caught up with her and left her drained, exhausted, just plain sick.

"I kinda figured that," Anko turned around with a savage grin, "If he was here I'm assuming he wouldn't have let you answer the door. So he came here, beat you up and left?"

Deciding lying would be pointless, Sakura shrugged, "Actually he broke into my house, sent me to sleep with his Sharingan, took me to the Nara Forest while I was unconscious, waited for me to wake up, tried to talk to me, I attacked him, he won, I got bruised, end of story."

"I'm guessing the end of that particular story would have been the end of you, so come on. Why didn't he kill you? He just kidnapped you, had a nice chat with you, kicked you about and waltzed off?" Anko said incredulously.

Sakura took a deep breath and shook her head, "No. He tried to make me hurt him. I hurt him. I left."

"You hurt him?"

Sakura drew her finger across her throat absently.

Anko whistled, "Nice! And he just let you? Freak. Wait! You left him with his throat cut in the Nara Forest? I thought you meant he was long gone! I'll get a team of Anbu to –"

"He is long gone." Sakura cut in. Anko looked puzzled. Sakura grimaced, not wanting to tell Anko the next part, "I'm so sorry… Please, please don't misunderstand…. I healed him. I saved his life."

Anko stared at her. Then, she let out a great sigh and flung herself on the couch, hand placed over her face.

"Oh Sakura… I get that it's hard. He was someone you cared about…" Anko said, trying to sound understanding, but mostly sounding exasperated. She could not get a fix on Sakura's personality. Just when she thought she understood the younger girl completely she'd do something like this and totally overturn Anko's estimation of her.

"It wasn't that!" Sakura said, outraged at the mere thought of still caring about that psychopath, "He wanted me to attack him. He wanted me to be a murderer, to be just like him because he's sick and twisted!"

Anko tilted her head and looked thoughtful, "So you did it to prove him wrong?"

Sakura made a noise of assent, sitting next to Anko, looking up at her anxiously, "I didn't want to heal him. I swear I didn't! I mean, I have dreams about killing him. I thought that when I finally saw him again, I'd kill him. But in the end, I would have just made him proud." She said bitterly.

"Did I ever tell you about Orochimaru?" Anko said pensively.

"Only a bit, mostly about how he smelt."

Anko was far off in her memories now, her eyes looking distant. "He was a kind mentor. Quiet, but full of praise for the slightest thing. He taught me about how fragile life is, and how you've gotta appreciate the beauty in death. Now I just think, screw him and his fucked up ideals, but nothing's gonna change that he majorly screwed me up as a kid, and that's shaped who I am today. It took me so long to get it straight in my head, that my kind teacher was a monster… I was terrified of being him. People looked at me funny in the street. For years, I figured I was gonna grow up to be him, a fucking monster. But then one day, I had a chat with the Sandaime. He told me it had been so hard to accept that his prized student had gone on to use his teachings to kill people, but he said to me that he didn't feel ashamed of being his teacher. He didn't let it get to him. He said: You cannot feel responsible for other people's actions; you can't live your life weighed down by your past mistakes. You can only move on and accept what has happened. So, I moved on. I kept on using his techniques and I was fine with it. You know why? 'Cause I was using what he taught me against him. There's no way he'd be happy knowing I was going round being a do-gooder in his name. It was fucking sweet, Sakura, honestly, knowing how he'd hate it. And look at me now! Bloodthirsty as they come, jounin, reasonably well-respected, and, most of alive. I live each day laughing in his face 'cause I know he failed. He must want me dead so badly… It's fucking hilarious!"

Sakura was struck. It had never once occurred to her to use what Itachi had taught her against him. To go around fighting at full strength for the first time in four years? To live each day laughing in his face… That sounded so appealing, it even drew a sly smile to her face.

"Fuck the Uchiha," Anko declared, "Brat like him; the shinobi world'll eat him up. That idiot brother of his, he'll kill him and then you'll win. Right?"

This was what Anko and Sakura had decided; they played a game in which they'd make up scenarios of what they wanted to happen in life. Sakura always spent hers wishing more and more gruesome deaths for Itachi brought on by Sasuke, thus fulfilling his quest for revenge and allowing him to come home. Anko always scoffed at her dream. She said she was a woman of simple tastes, and that all she wanted was the pleasure of slowly skinning Orochimaru alive like the snake he was (a pleasure stolen from her when Sasuke killed him, selfish as always) and a house filled with dango.

"But right now we need to report the Weasel's visit to Hokage-sama," Anko said, jumping up.

Someone hammered on the door suddenly, making Sakura jump nearly out of her skin, still a bit edgy from last night.

"That was quick." Anko said flippantly, going to answer the door, pushing Sakura out of the way playfully and getting there first.

"What the fuck do you want?" She glared at the man at the door, the constant hammering finally getting on her nerves.

The chuunin looked alarmed, possibly because he had expected a fellow chuunin to answer the door, not the extremely terrifying fabled figure of ill-repute that was Mitarashi Anko.

Sakura edged her way past Anko to join her in glaring at the poor chuunin.

He perked up at the sight of her.

"Oh! Haruno-san! Hokage-sama requests your presence instantly, I mean, right now." The chuunin bleated.

Sakura looked down at her pyjamas.

"Instantly?" She crooked an eyebrow.

He flushed.

"She said: preferably five minutes ago." The chuunin quoted.

Anko tutted and wriggled out of her tan overcoat. The chuunin immediately averted his eyes as Anko's mesh-covered chest wiggled into sight.

She draped the coat over Sakura, comically swamping her small frame.

"There," Anko said with a wink, bumping her hip against Sakura's, sending her colliding with the doorframe painfully, "You look half-way decent!"

"You don't," Sakura said wryly, rubbing her sore hip pointedly.

She hid back in the living room and passed a glowing green hand over her injuries, just managing to heal enough that she would be able to pass under Tsunade's scrutiny without alerting her to the beating she'd taken recently.

She pulled the overcoat to herself tightly, noting with slight amusement that it smelt of sake and dango, and dutifully followed the chuunin up the path, waving to Anko despite knowing with absolute certainty that in her absence, Anko would merrily trash the house.

xxxxxxxx

Tsunade's office was full. Stacks of paperwork towered everywhere and there was a faint bitter tang of alcohol in the air that proved that Tsunade was being overworked as per usual. The chuunin had kindly escorted her to the Hokage's office and left her there, wandering about the empty room, impatiently waiting for Tsunade to return.

Mostly out of boredom, Sakura peered at a stained document, wanting to see if it could be spared. She caught a mention of Kakashi and, intrigued, scanned the paper.

Official Acts of Observation –: Watch List

Followed Hatake to his residence – (There was a smudge here that made the rest of the sentence illegible)

Unusual crow activity over Haruno's place of residence. Warning posted.

Haruno looking thin and tired. For full report on health, see next page. Mental health is still under revision.

No signs of Uchiha anywhere in Konoha. No reports of his activity for the past two months. Reports on failing eyesight prove inconclusive.

Still, worth mentioning that Haruno's behaviour for past four years is mixed. Unstable behaviour evident. (Another smudge) loyalty to anyone who asks, including the agent-of-influence. Erratic temperament – reports of psychological damage.

Conc. No sign of Uchiha making contact with Haruno. Hatake clean as always. Haruno's family clean. Areas of concern remain, Haruno's mental health and Uchiha's use of crows.

Haruno's current threat level: High.

Overall likelihood of Haruno turning hostile: High.

The report was signed and authorised by Tsunade.

Sakura stared at the paper, not noticing her hands begin to shake. They still suspected her. They still thought she was likely to turn, what was it they'd said? Hostile.

She felt cold.

Hostile.

They weren't just watching her, they were watching her family, Kakashi, who knows who else…

There were people watching her house, by the looks of the dates on the pages, fairly regularly, constantly there to make sure she didn't snap.

How had they missed Itachi? Oh. Of course. He'd killed them.

Sakura stared at the paper once again in complete disbelief. They thought she was mentally unstable? She couldn't believe it, could not believe that the people who had watched her grow up could possibly imagine for one second that she was crazy and, oh yeah, working with a mass-murderer.

How many times would she have to prove her loyalty? She'd had the chance to go with Itachi back when she was vulnerable, upset and young, still believing he was a good guy and she still had not left with him. She had refused to do that to her village. And this was her thanks for it, having her loyalty questioned and being put on a regular watch like some criminal?

All this time, she'd suspected they didn't really trust her, but she hadn't thought that they considered her a threat!

There were footsteps fast approaching, and Sakura hastily stuffed the paper back in the pile. She had just enough time to notice a mug of coffee had spilled on Tsunade's desk, staining most of the papers, when the woman herself appeared.

Sakura was still standing next to the desk, so she took a few steps forward, feeling as though her guilt was written all over her face.

Tsunade's hazel eyes flicked from Sakura to the papers and back, but she didn't react with anger or shock. She looked agitated, her hair was a mess and she was sweating slightly.

"Sakura." She wiped a hand over her hot face and looked at her student, her face serious.

Sakura bit her lip. This wasn't about the papers. This was something else entirely. Had Tsunade already found out about Itachi, and had come to punish her? Was it possible they thought she'd turned hostile already and was conspiring against them?

"We've got him." She said, her voice low and her eyes burning with intensity.

Sakura's stomach dropped and she had to grip the table to stop herself falling.

"Itachi?" She said fearfully, unsure why she felt horror-struck, only knowing that her heart was beating far, far too fast and she felt dizzy.

"No," Tsunade shook her head, "Sasuke."

Yup, that darn Sasuke's gone and got himself captured again. Imbecile.

I couldn't resist making Sakura and Anko have a playful, sisterly relationship. It was too cute to write, lol XD I also adored the idea of Sakura wearing Anko's overcoat and it being too big for her, don't ask me why!

For all you ItaSaku fans out there, I'm going to write an ItaSaku high school fanfic after I finish Student Warfare (VERY SOON), in which Sakura is the plain jane invisible student, not special or worthy of attention, at least not in her opinion, whilst the yummy older brother of her best friend might think otherwise, though he's such a player it's hard to tell… Basically, clichéd, guilty pleasure stuff. The stuff you read to cheer you up, I guess, cause I've been the Queen of Angst and Drama for too long!

Since the story's only in the planning stages at the moment, please feel free to suggest things for it :)

Quick poll for fun: What is the most annoying gender stereotype you constantly see in fiction?

A) The typical 'bad boy' who needs to be 'changed by a good woman.'

B) The female heroine with no personality of her own.

C) The damsel in distress who exists only to add conflict to the plot.

D) Other! Let me know!