Argh. Reread that sodding first chapter and still hate it. GRRR.

I despise that chapter.

So I hope this one's not as disappointing.

My Perfect Enemy

"When the sun shines

We'll shine more than ever,

Told you I'll be here forever

Said I'll always be your friend,

Took an oath

I'mma stick it out 'till the end

Now that it's raining more than ever,

Know that we'll still have each other,

You can stand under my umbrella,

You can stand under my umbrella,"

Rihanna- Umbrella

Chapter Two- Raindrops

They're his.

The concept swept through Sasuke's consciousness, ceasing any other coherent thoughts, haunting and terrorising his mind at a sickening level. It suddenly seemed as if he had only just realised that the child clinging to his neck was his brother's daughter, and that the child standing next to them, observing them, was his brother's son.

Itachi's children. And the boy knows. Oh shit, oh… fuck, the boy knows…

He didn't look at the boy. The shame and sadness of killing his brother was already eating away at his soul. To look directly into that child's eyes now would slaughter all that was left of the pitiful justification Sasuke had clung onto for dear Life.

I've basically done to them what he did to me. How could he live with himself now? He had to take them in and give them shelter. A home. Maybe even a family again? What kind of family am I? I haven't the right anymore to be their family.

But he was their family; no matter what he'd done to them they were still his responsibility. He knew this and the thought ate away at him, rotted him from the core, but beyond all that, he'd also realised something else: the bi-products of his brother and some woman were only millimetres away, and their sudden existence meant he was not the last of his clan…

That I am not alone…

His fingertips brushed his niece's hair, momentarily pausing to marvel at its silken feel, at its length and familiarity to a texture he had once felt in this very room, from a time he was forever straining so hard to remember. His eyes fleeted around the room, surprised to find how much brighter it seemed to be, how less stagnant the air had become, all from the mere touch of a little girl's tresses, and the comforting warmth her delicate body produced.

Sasuke breathed in her smell, registering the sweet fragrance- the scent of innocence, dulled only slightly by her damp clothes. Again, she smelt familiar, distantly familiar, and it felt like simply her presence could help revive old memories of days Sasuke had lost through tragedy. He held her tight, both fascinated and saddened at the old shards of smashed recollections suddenly fitting back into place, rekindling an inner-fire previously snuffed out by years of loneliness and hatred.

Sensing a flurry of movement, his eyes shot to the door, revealing a traumatised Sakura leaning on the frame for support. The colour in her cheeks dropped at the sight of the infant Uchihas, one standing on his own, regarding her curiously, the other locked in an unyielding embrace with the man she loves.

Sasuke swivelled his glance towards Haruki, eyes narrowing minutely as he tried to read the boy's pokerfaced expression, a façade he'd seen far too much of for his liking already.

The boy was returning his new Aunt's awkward gaze with a cool, patient impassiveness, standing still as if he were either not sure of what to do himself, or waiting for her to do or say what she needed to, the latter of which seemed the correct scenario, as Sakura lifted her head to Sasuke, meek-faced.

"I'm going to put the kettle on," She said quietly, sounding both physically and mentally exhausted all at once.

Sasuke nodded slightly, but shot her a look of concern as she turned away, heading for the kitchen with stricken steps. How could someone's demeanour crumble so terribly in just a few short minutes? It was a harsh surprise to say the least, but it surely wasn't quite as distressing as Sakura's mood put forward?

Well, to tell the truth, as he stroked little Miyuki's raven tresses, Sasuke didn't feel all too uncomfortable about having a niece and nephew- they were, after all, family, and not their father.

No one could be their father- no one could ever be what Itachi was… He had already silently decided this- that neither of them, not even Haruki could ever be capable of treading in his ghastly brother's bloody footprints. Uchiha Itachi's legacy was never to be redeemed and Sasuke would make it his sole priority, if need be. I'd rather take my life than ever see that happen a second time.

Miyuki stirred quietly in his arms, drawing Sasuke's attention when her tiny body stepped away from his, and a fragile hand clutched his shirtsleeve as she peered around the room. Her wide eyes located Haruki in seconds, and as they both stared at each other silent words fell between them, ending with their pretty faces lit by divine little smiles.

Sasuke watched as the children grinned, fascinated at how open and trusting their expressions were. Never had a moment like that had passed between him and their father. There was a time when Itachi had been brotherly and kind, and gentle, and patient… But never had he been trusting. Not even to Sasuke. Itachi had had enough harmful secrets to fill an ocean with the tears of the ones who loved him, but now, as Sasuke observed the actions of just one of those many secrets, he was sure there was nothing left unsaid between the children. The trust flowing between them was like second nature. Their love for one another was returned on the deepest of levels and nothing would ever destroy that bond they shared.

Of that, Sasuke was a hundred percent sure.

He smiled slightly, still watching their contentment. I'm jealous, He admitted, realising that this is what his and Itachi's fraternal relationship had been deprived of. There had never been any true trust. Never any true love. And by understanding this, it made Sasuke all the more sure that they could never be Itachi.

Not even the boy. He could not deny the reassurance was a welcome relief, but he could not understand how or why he felt it so easy to pass judgement over his nephew and niece. He knew virtually nothing of them, just of their father, and then the rest was a mystery. He wondered what a life them must have lived before they came here. How much of Itachi did they see? How was he as a father? What was their mother like? How much did they know? The latter of which could mean anything, he supposed.

"How much do they know of Itachi's and Akatsuki's motives?" That, Sasuke could predict, would be the main question asked. Word of the twin's arrival would spread through Konoha like a plague once he had spoken with the Hokage- something he knew he couldn't ignore much longer. This situation should have been reported at once.

Sakura will mention it; the moment she comes back in she'll insist on seeing that damned bitch… And with his head swimming with all these thoughts Sasuke failed notice Miyuki's bright eyes and sweet voice.

"Sorry, Miyuki-Chan, what did you say?"

The little girl blinked for a second, then repeated her words. "Shall I go and help Sakura-San with the tea, Uncle?"

Uncle…

He wondered for a second whether it would be wiser to leave Sakura alone for a while, but he couldn't imagine Sakura doing anything harmful towards Miyuki. Maybe it would speed things along a bit? "Yeah, go ahead…" Besides, he had an urge to speak to Haruki alone. He had a feeling he could only speak with Haruki alone.

Miyuki smiled warmly and left the room with barely a sound, her step light and long hair swaying behind her with the momentum. Before disappearing, she glanced nervously once more to her brother, who nodded, prompting her along, reassuring her everything would be fine, smiling that same smile that kept hers intact. It never seemed to disappoint.

My, how different Haruki looks when he smiles! The boy's endless frowning and scowling aged him pitilessly, forcing people to look beyond those short eight years to see nothing more than a contemptuous little runt with a viciously precocious attitude. He's seen too much of the world already to think it's a happy or fair place. He's seen through that lie a thousand times, and it shows, it shows through those wickedly smouldering, passionate eyes, rimmed with a deadly set of thick, curving eyelashes. Through them, Sasuke has deduced that the boy does not look through them as a child anymore. Haruki looks through them as an adult, however ridiculous an air that sounds for an eight-year-old; Sasuke knew it was true, for he'd seen the same contortion of childhood through the eyes of himself.

"Oh God, oh god… oh fuck, fuck, fuck…" Sakura cupped her face with shaking hands as she leant against the kitchen countertop, unable to trust her legs to stay solid. The tears prickled her eyes, but she resisted, knowing she'd have to keep composed for the sake of Sasuke. Oh, why is this happening? Why is it happening now?

Sasuke hadn't been right for days. He moped around the house, becoming as dreary and lifeless as the hundreds of unused rooms throughout this damned estate. For years, they'd collected a musty, thick layering of dust, becoming nothing but unkempt and forgotten.

Sasuke's state of mind had managed to form that dusty concept in only a few days.

His heart had soured so quickly every other part of him could barely keep up. His silent depression had manifested into something far more damaging and soon he became cold and jaded towards everything. Right now, he was a mere inch away from tumbling into an abyss he has no chance of escaping. He shied from any social interaction and rarely ventured out the house, choosing to not see anything beyond the dust and neglect. People came and people went, all worried and distressed for him, all shocked to realise that this pitiful creature is what he'd become. Naruto visited everyday, without fail, and was miraculously able to bring his contagious, sunshine-blond bounciness into the dead house, dulling the deafening silence. But of course, that was to be expected of such an extraordinary man. Often, Kakashi joined them, just to attempt to remind Sasuke that he wasn't alone, and that what had passed was simply meant to be.

"Perhaps it's finally happening, perhaps Sasuke will break down and finally accept what Fate has given him? Perhaps he can forget what happened in the past and simply look towards the future?" For hours they'd sat and discussed the state of Sasuke's future, hoping to find the strength and ability to support him through this horribly necessary time in life. He was agonisingly lonely, and everyone one of his teammates could appreciate what that had felt like at least once…

Sasuke had even had a taster already, but this was worse, much, much worse, as the loneliness was tinged with a guilt and self-loathing the young Uchiha couldn't forget.

In so many respects, Sasuke was a late bloomer. His emotional well-being was halted at the very stage it should have been left to grow and expand- and now, as he'd obliterated what had held that development back, his mind was undoubtedly suffering the heavy repercussions.

It grated on their relationship. The flaming passion he and Sakura shared had whittled down to nothing more than a dying an ember, and Sakura dreaded to think how much more of his contagious depression she could push aside. To a woman whose love for him was practically obsession, this was the mightiest blow of them all. The deepest wish in her quivering heart was for him to be the Sasuke she'd always love for a thousand lifetimes. The one she'd seen from day to day was nothing but a shadow, just a pathetic waste of a once great man.

How can I think of Sasuke like that? It broke her heart to feel the loathing this mess had caused to seep into her dearest feelings for Sasuke. It twisted her love, twisted their love, and she hated that wicked brother of his more than any person could ever suspect.

Everything's his fault! Everything that's happened to Sasuke is because of him and I hate him- him and everything that's associated with him for what he's done to my Sasuke!

Uchiha Itachi's mark on Sasuke would forever mar the younger brother's life. Sasuke would never be free, never be able to forgive or forget. The two children in the reception room were just another clear indication of this, and Sakura, as much as her very being screamed and wailed at the injustice, could doing nothing but despise them for it.

Why aren't they ours? She'd known for years her husband desired a family and had known for sometime now it would be the perfect way to coax him out of the dangerous misery he'd given into. But now that idea was tainted, tainted like every other idea he'd cherished, by that bastard.

Why can't he leave him alone? He's done enough! Sakura screamed inside until her head throbbed. She felt the anger for Sasuke bubble over and turn her vision red. The timing of it all was hopeless and all she wanted to do was curl into a little ball and scream her frustration.

Even beyond the grave, Itachi was pulling the strings, clearly exploiting his brother's kindness and guilt for his own gain. And the timing as usual was impeccable.

Not at a time like this… not now…not now…

"H-he can't… not now…please, please… not now," Sakura sobbed and bit her lip in frustration, no longer able to fight the tears she'd been concealing so painfully for the past three weeks.

The kettle rumbled beside her, but she didn't care. It was just an excuse to get out of that damned room, anyway. She doubted Sasuke wanted tea. He was too interested in those miserable children to care.

The moment she'd returned from the hallway to see he and the girl locked in a tight embrace had been like a kunai ripping into her chest. The expression on his face was something akin to relief and wonderment, an emotion so honest and basic for Sasuke she hardly believed her eyes. That they could affect him so easily was disturbing, and she wasn't comfortable with it at all.

Her tears streamed harder; she was unable to accept how easily those children had changed him- changed her Sasuke in a fleeting moment, whereas she could hardly brush the surface of his emotionally perverse, self-centred heart.

Heart- ha! What fucking heart?

The Clan, the Clan… All it was was that fucking CLAN, CLAN, CLAN. Sasuke had no heart; just his sodding Clan. With Itachi he had some remnants of a Clan. Shitty ones, but still there was something salvageable. He had a Clan to avenge, to save and to agonise over.

Bastard, bastard, bastard! Sakura screamed inside, feeling the agony of yet another, more subtle rejection tears her entrails to shreds. Why, if there could be a Clan to avenge, could there not be a Clan to rebuild? Damn, fucking, tricky WANKER!

It's what he wanted. He'd said it himself more times than anyone could remember. Whilst hunting Itachi, it seemed to consume his thoughts, often a plus side for Sakura.

But then it all turned wrong, so horribly, horribly wrong…

"You're a fucking selfish wanker, Uchiha Sasuke, and you don't even know it," She whispered in despair to her soggy palms, suddenly feeling much better with herself at finally announcing the thought aloud- even if it was to a brick wall.

For the past few weeks she and Sasuke had been having sex, a reasonable amount of sex, and to be fair to the poor sap he was as good as ever. No questions there, except… He wasn't enjoying it, and that, of course, had an adverse affect on Sakura's enjoyment. Well, more than her enjoyment, her confidence took a terrible blow and not to mention every other sexual situation just got worse and worse. It had finally become a "duty". This sex was nothing more than a duty his deformed heart had convinced him he was solely responsible for. It was his purpose now, and he seemed to accept it so willingly.

As soon as he'd arrived home from that accursed errand Sasuke was soaked in baby-baby-baby-lets-shag-like-rabbits-until-Sakura's-knocked-up-mode. Pity it hadn't worked. Pity she hadn't conceived. Maybe he'd have changed back after that- become the Sasuke everyone loved and despised. Not the Sasuke everyone pitied.

Sakura was no imbecile; she'd seen the horrid self-loathing and despair discolouring his face the moment he'd waked home, but she hadn't the heart to confront him- especially when his hands and lips were turning her raw with desire up against the kitchen countertop. It was a cruel contrast, the biological needs were as fulfilled as ever, but the emotional side of things left so much to be desired.

So much, it was like Sakura's heart had rotted down to a foul, gangrene void in the middle of her chest. And it was spreading, spreading to every cell and consuming every happy thought she could muster.

Uchiha Sasuke truly was the most selfish bastard to ever be born.

Feeling the last of her good nature crumple, Sakura growled through her sobs, swung round and smashed a chakra-laden fist into the kitchen countertop she'd previously been leaning on. A satisfying crackle burst from the crumpled surface and minuscule shards of broken wood sprung into the air, soon to litter the floor. The stress relief was imminent, and she felt a small, hopeless smile curve her lips.

What would Sasuke say to this? Nothing, probably…

She placed a pair of shaking hands on the splintered countertop, steadying herself, suddenly fearful of the hysterical babble threatening to choke her like an accidentally swallowed throat lozenge. The tears etched red scorch marks along her cheeks and she raised a hand to her lips, as if to keep them bolted shut.

Pathetic, isn't it? Allowing a man to make you feel this way. He could manipulate her body and mind like a puppeteer, but his hands weren't even holding the strings. It was an unspeakably useful talent- this wicked control he possessed over the people he loved.

But through her traumatised state Sakura failed to notice the patter of tiny feet in the corridor outside, steeping so eager and merrily; oblivious to her new Aunt's feelings of frustrated bitterness.

Miyuki had watched with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation as Sakura crushed a massive, V-shaped dent into the wooden countertop. As soon as she'd seen it, the little girl's intuition told her to leave and wander back to the man who in nearly every way reminded her of father. Malice and chakra buzzed around the room like some nefarious rain cloud, and every sense in her little body told her get away. But she didn't run away. She was glued to the spot, against all her better judgements.

Concern swelled in her chest, as Sakura sobbed and wept like she hadn't a friend in the world. She wasn't sure what to do, bless. A little girl comforting a distraught woman? Surely it should be the other way round?

Oh well. She mused, and took the first courageous step towards the volatile Sakura.

"Sa… Sakura-San?" She whispered, hoping her quiet voice would carry through the sobs.

The young woman carried on crying.

Miyuki stopped dead in her tracks, studying Sakura from the side. She repeated her words, and somehow, she registered them.

Slowly, Sakura raised her head, eyes lifting gradually from the ground as if holding off the moment until she'd have to gaze at the owner of that sweet, melodic voice. From the unmistakable look of horror splashed like acid across the medic's face Miyuki understood then that to interrupt Sakura had been a terrible mistake.

Miyuki, taken back by the force of the look, subconsciously took a step back.

Run run! Anannoying, yet surprisingly useful voice in the back of her premature head wailed, but her feet were rooted to the ground. She'd been caught in the vice-like glare of a basilisk, and suddenly, she caved.

"St-stop it," A single, frightened tear trickled down her pale cheek. More stung behind her dark eyes, but she was too afraid to shed them. Fear of this woman held her like a helpless prisoner. "P-pl… Please,"

Sakura glared, completely swamped with painful fury. Her heart beat in her throat, her eyes, her chest, as if a surge of adrenalin were sweeping through her body. She wanted to hit the little witch, smack her black and blue for being his and not Sasuke's. Her arms were trembling with the thought and her legs were about to give way any second. Her mind was set, yet her body refused to do its bidding. Tears of fury flowed freer than ever, and she hated herself even more for her lack of discipline and indecision.

"Damnit!" She cursed breathily as her legs finally turned to mush. She landed on the floor, a shaking wreck, still watching the girl, still trapping her with scrutiny.

Miyuki jumped right out her skin as Sakura tumbled to the floor, emitting a tiny, terror-dulled gasp. Her horrified eyes collided with a rage they'd never seen before, and- and…

And then it hit Sakura harder than any brick wall, harder than a block of ice, harder than a slap in the face from the ones she loved. Harder, even so, than a rejection from Sasuke.

What the hell am I doing?

Shame filled her eyes and clogged her throat. Strange to think how many different tears one could shed, isn't it?

Looking at the petrified little girl in front of her, Sakura felt nothing but terrible shame. Firstly, shame for the awful thoughts and unfair convictions she'd accused the little girl mentally. But secondly, and probably more disgustingly, she felt ashamed for the tears she'd caused the child to spill, for the shake in her little bones.

Really, what was she like, blaming all her miseries on those children? She couldn't possibly understand what they'd been through in the past couple of weeks, could she? Who was she to judge and despise them for such an unjustified reason like that?

You're a shameful beast, Sakura.

"I-I'm sorry!" She wailed, finally finding her voice, and cried harder than ever before. Her eyes clouded and blurred, but she made out the child's expression of relieved kindness after the terror was lifted. "I-I… I didn't… didn't mean…"

Miyuki shook her head and smiled, then stepped towards Sakura with a soft hand ready to hold hers.

Haruki eyed his Uncle with the skilled gaze of a primed analytical predator. Despite his early years, he had inherited his father's keen ability to read and understand people in an instant. Piece by piece, he would dissect them, practically read their thoughts, and exploit their feelings.

Sometimes, he did it as necessity, and other times he did it for fun.

Although, he wasn't quite sure what to class sizing-up Uchiha Sasuke as- was it fun or necessary? Maybe it was a little of both?

It's not relevant, anyway. He thought and dismissed in the inner argument. Truth be told, he knew Sasuke's type from the moment he laid eyes on the man. Haruki had not been sure whether it truly was Sasuke who had killed Itachi, but after all that palaver, he'd made his guilt perfectly clear. Got in an instant. The man horrified to know of them, let a lone see them and touch them.

How easily he gave it away… It was a real disappointment, actually. He' d have thought the brother of his father to be more of a challenge than that. Perhaps it's because he's unguarded at the moment? He's in his own house, and we're family- Haruki sneered at this thought- so why should he feel threatened by us?

The boy was perplexed; the man intrigued him, worried him, and disgusted him. Uchiha Sasuke was a great many things to Uchiha Haruki, but one of them, it seemed, was not "enigmatic".

Miyuki's light pitter-patter could still be distinguished from the hallway above the tens and thousand of tumbling raindrops.

Sasuke kept his eyes rested on the space where she'd been, collecting his thoughts, regrouping his senses. For a moment, the deep breath he took felt like the first, life-saving breath one takes before they drown or suffocate. His tongue and throat were dry, like he'd swallowed sad without water. The boy was sat a little way from him, darker and more imposing than any eight-year-old should ever be.

He reminds me of me, and of you. Indeed, Haruki was like a carbon copy of the Uchiha brothers. Should only be natural, shouldn't it? But it wasn't. The child with piercing, opaque, owl-like eyes should never be like that, just as he and Itachi should never have been. Haruki should be as innocent and oblivious as his sister; should be like any other eight-year-old, laughing and screaming with joy and not a care in the world.

He truly was an Uchiha, poor child.

A loud, splintering crash echoed down the hallway, making both their heads snap up in alarm. Sasuke registered the surge of chakra instantly, and swiftly leapt to his feet. Silently, he cursed himself for underestimating Sakura's mood. She was a volatile creature sometimes, with quite the temper and occasional lapses of rationale. The idea of Sakura hurting the child was ridiculous, but a thousand thoughts were assaulting Sasuke all at once, so he acted on instinct and rushed to the door.

He didn't get very far.

"Wait," Haruki said coolly from behind him, "There's no need to worry,"

Sasuke halted in mid-step, his eyes darting sideways towards the younger Uchiha. His face was a pale, unreadable blank mask, but all the while his voice had been reassuring with its sureness.

"There's no need to worry," He repeated in the same tone, and shook his head slightly. "She wouldn't harm her,"

Again, the confidence in his young voice was reassuring. Sasuke turned around and leaned on the doorframe, still staring at those pebble-like eyes.

Haruki had read Sakura in an instant too. His judgement was rarely wrong. But perhaps his judgement of Sasuke was. Now, at his full height, clad in the formidable ANBU uniform, Sasuke looked considerably different. Haruki began to mould the concept of Sasuke's career, and suddenly the personality slot into place. He'd been very capable of killing his brother, no matter what, that was plain to see. The satisfaction and hatred was there, it was just simply hidden under the many layers that formed this man.

Inwardly, Haruki smirked. So Sasuke was quite "enigmatic" after all.

The rain whipped against the windows and the wind became more violent, now lashing and tearing through the Konoha trees like some furious, snarling beast. There would be soggy green leaves clogging the streets of Konoha tomorrow morning.

No more sound came from along the hallway, and Haruki was proved right. Sakura would never do something so uncharacteristically thoughtless like harming Miyuki. Her heart and conscience were too kind.

Haruki's thoughts cast back worriedly to his sister. She was too immature, always too naïve and given the situation they'd been in, she could never be left alone. She was not stupid, oh no. Miyuki was just young, oblivious and acted her age. Just how she should be.

They may be twins, but in a manner of different respects they were very far apart. They were kind, both with bond deeper than anyone who wasn't a twin could never fathom. There was never any chance of betrayal, never any chance of hatred. They best friends, and one thing would forever stay the same in their relationship: no matter what, they would always be there for each other, and feel the other's pain as acutely as if it were theirs, so they would never abandon each other.

So they could never forget each other. Few were ever lucky enough to find that kind of trust.

Sasuke noticed Haruki lost in thought, and sensed the heavy awkwardness of the boy's position. For what reason the boy's demeanour had changed so rapidly, Sasuke wasn't sure, but he already knew this was awkward enough as it is, and he wanted it over and done with.

"Is she always like that?" He asked, breaking their thick silence. Silence could be deafening thing, and Sasuke didn't want it ringing in his ears afterwards.

Haruki blinked for a second. "Who… Miyuki?"

Sasuke nodded.

Haruki narrowed his eyes slightly and thought about his answer. "Yes… she is like that most of the time," He paused, and added afterwards as Sasuke chuckled slightly. "Why?"

"You're not at all alike, are you?" Sasuke smiled meekly, happy he'd manage to throw the child off guard and crack a hole through the mask. The boy was impatient.

"Not really, no," Haruki replied dryly.

You're both impatient. Sasuke thought, eyes staring through the windows. Just like Itachi and I used to be.

"At least one of us has to have some common sense," The boy said, suddenly sounding quite tired, although Sasuke could gauge nothing from his expression to prove it.

Haruki watched the treacherous weather beyond the glass as blankly as if he were not fully conscious, as if it was merely there and he was merely there. As if it and all this was just one big inconsequential coincidence, nothing to be scared of or startled by.

That boy takes some beating. Sasuke was impressed by boy's deliberate blankness and pondered about his true feelings. From that, he decided not to verbally pound the child with the thoughts and regrets he'd felt ever since meeting him. It was hard to believe how much pain could be culminated in such a short length of time, but there you go. There was too much to be said right now, and it was never his intention to bombard the child with a multitude of thoughts and feelings.

Sasuke sighed deeply, closing his stinging eyes for second before making ready to amble resolutely towards the kitchen to face Sakura. He seemed to need the doorframe for more support than any shinobi of his age and level should ever need. He stepped half-way out the door before stopping abruptly in his tracks. The slither of a smooth, child-like voice reached his ears once again, but he failed to decipher the words above the thunderous rain. The voice understood, and repeated.

"Don't say anything to Miyuki," Haruki said quietly, his gaze still fixated on tumbling rain outside.

Sasuke twisted his head to the side. The boy was paled and more unemotional than ever before. Or maybe that's the effect the lighting had at this angle?

"Don't say a word of what I know to Miyuki, and make sure no one else lets anything slip… she's not like me,"

The command, as unemotional as it seemed, was a powerful one and Sasuke understood the enormity of at once.

He too was quite talented at reading people. Now, was reading Haruki going to be for fun or a necessity? He wondered and left the room.

Done. Thank for reading- I know it was very waffly, so thank you, thank you, thank you!

Now please be even more wonderful and review.

Amser x.