(Re-Edited Version)
This is the prelude to the second (and final) major chapter. The climax is next, and although I cannot promise how fast that will be seeing as its format will be the same as the first chapter, it's going to present the reason for all this madness.
Of course the story does not conclude there but it will get a heck lot of questions out of the way and hopefully I'll be able to wrap up the rest in two or three more final chapters. To be honest, I've never thought I'd be able to see the ending of this but it's getting closer and closer each time I add a few more lines to this story. I'm excited and saddened at the same time.
Thank you to the reviewers of the last chapter, it's been really nice reading your feedback, especially the lengthy ones. I feel the love. :D
Now... BRACE YOURSELVES!
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, only the theories presented here and your soul.
Gods of Vindication
Part X: Dei Ex Machinis
"…can't remember caring for an hour or so, started crying and I couldn't stop myself… started running but there's nowhere to run to…"
Sakura swallowed a scream threatening to overcome her. Only a small, silenced noise emanated from pressed lips, scarlet eyes immobilizing her. Across her stood the aggressor of her avenger, tall and dark and lethally dangerous. Even more than Orochimaru could ever hope to be.
She had never seen him this close.
Naruto had always been the one he sought. Naruto had always been their aim. Appearing out of nowhere to confront them, speaking merely to her blond teammate using illusions and deception, each time there always grew the uncertainty of his actions. What he told the jinchuuriki was between them and them alone. There was no margin of error where the message slipped past to her or Kakashi, and even Naruto expressed qualms about telling her anything. Or he did not know. Sakura never got around to finding out.
It was strange because at any of those times he could have nabbed Naruto, taken the vessel and contents alike, in a blink of an eye.
But he never did. He stood and spoke and stared and threatened. And did nothing.
She'd seen him. She'd seen his picture in the bingo books, his thirteen-year-old face set in a veritable blank mask. It was the only latest documented image of the murderer they could find. His succeeding appearances here and there wearing the banner of Akatsuki was too fleeting for anyone to manage an accurate physical description and give the printers an up to date face. Those fortunate enough to have glimpsed him came through with stories of inhuman skill and deadly force, correctly identifying him when shown the picture of the boy.
When Tsunade warmed up to her being her student, accessing and retrieving the most classified files become a day-to-day occurrence. Opportunity had presented itself at the most perfect of times and she never allowed that to slip through her fingers.
Day and night she had prowled into folders almost a decade old, poor storage nearly crumbling them into roach eaten confetti into her hands. It had not been enough of a deterrent for her. Maybe her twelve-year-old self would have quailed at the dirt and the rat droppings. That had been nothing to her already, there were worse things in the contents. They told her little, and they told her legends.
She'd found among ANBU dossiers the older Uchiha's papers, his spotless and jarringly perfect academy records up until he was entered in the government's militia. A lone certificate dated a couple of months later indicated his absurdly fast promotion to captain of a squad, then nothing more.
The sudden cap erasing all recorded history of secret shinobi duties clamped down and there was nothing more she found past that date of any worth. So Sakura moved on.
In the vaults of crime records, beneath the document storage buildings that rising high among the tops of the great trees, she had clambered into the underground hallways. The recesses into the earth provided her cover as guards roamed past because she was not supposed to be here. These were different people. They had worn the insignia of Konoha but they were not ANBU. Root operatives, she knew, were not under Tsunade's command.
In the caverns she had discovered the scroll used to take down all details of the massacre, contained with a seal she could not break. It had been properly arranged among a myriad others by order of date the infractions occurred.
That could have been the end of her search but she was not stupid enough not to make the connection between the dates of the bloody event and the version of the Konoha bingo book that first issued the name and image of one Uchiha Itachi.
Still she lacked the knowledge of why he decided to end everything with his family with such brutal precision, then leave his little brother alone and unscathed. Even why he was immediately drafted into Akatsuki was gaping mystery, posing more questions than answers.
Everything the S-class criminal did in the months leading up to the killings forever changed the village. Was it all for his brother? Was it to torment him, to leave him in nightmares for emotional destruction? Or was it for something running deeper, because there was something he saw in their precious clan and he was trying to save Sasuke rather than the other way around?
Or was it all because of power, and he needed his foolish little brother as a conclusion of sorts?
With enough patience and jugfuls of sake, she'd convinced their one-eyed teacher to tell her the barest details of why, why Sasuke had become so consumed in the desire to destroy someone to the point of throwing away his own happiness and future. It had been the same night she found out Kakashi was probably a much stronger drinker than Tsunade.
All those statistics had scared her half out of her mind during lonely nights she'd remember their lost teammate. They were of an uneasy dread for who exactly he was going to face, an invincible killing machine who was his only remaining family. That single event she and Naruto had encountered his brother, she only managed a far view of the man in question, a handsome yet unremarkable memory except for the fact it proved the criminal organization was getting too close to the Kyuubi vessel than any of them were comfortable with.
Everyone talked of silent kills and ice cold words but it was never told from the mouth of a direct witness.
It was always a brother, an uncle, a teammate, a friend, or all of them making a long, daisy chained possible lie of what Uchiha Itachi really was like. Sometimes in the bars they'd end up in there were those brazen girls who whispered behind their hands of how good looking he was despite his blood-soaked reputation, giggling of how they wouldn't mind being with someone such as him since his face pardoned all the black sins in their eyes.
Sakura had more than once scoffed at such shallow fantasies, slamming back a shot of tequila, a taste she had developed from frequently traveling outside of Fire. How ridiculous, forgiving someone for killing off their whole family and leaving one just for the sake of a morbidly sick psychological torture? Fat chance.
She believed she had finally understood the hate Sasuke struggled through for all his life. Heck, if she'd meet Itachi again, she'd break medic protocol to make sure and land a few punches in to help her team with his capture. And then they'd use him as lure for the missing Team Seven member to finally come home once more.
Endless hours were spent on daydreaming that stupid, idealistic scenario. With all her might she believed it could happen, a perfect solution for all the troubles. Because she believed she could do something, wanted to believe she wasn't the helpless little Sakura always hanging back and needing to be saved. She would be strong.
All those fantasies were dashed in one brutal moment of reality.
Here was Itachi, in her room, holding her captive from a few feet away with a stare. And she could do nothing.
Taller than Sasuke, of this she was sure of, there was a quiet calm about him as though everything he did had a purpose, an omnipotence suffocating and permeating every inch of existence, down to the slow simple blink of his red, red eyes.
No one told her how terrifyingly beautiful he was, awashed with the warm, yellow light of incandescent bulbs. Nowhere in the countless pages she rifled through said his mere presence arrested whoever happened to see him, as though the very air surrounding him was a potent genjutsu. Nothing at all had prepared her for the way he made her heart stop with the polite command of how he spoke.
"You must forgive me..."
She only knew this man through memorized statistics, his strength she could only determine through estimates and guessing games at best. There he was, standing before her like a god. And when he took a step forward, sandaled feet quiet on the thick rug, a most delicate curiosity drew together fine dark eyebrows. Crimson irises questioned through heavy black lashes.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, a deep velvety voice elucidating the words.
This was stupid. Really, the situation was laughable if not completely absurd.
Why on the sweet loving earth would Sasuke's S-class criminal brother be in her room at all? Why was he bothering talking to her when he could be giving chase to his foolish little brother and torture him once he caught up? Or probably go after Naruto since wasn't he, after all, who they were trying to get as their oh-so-coveted Akatsuki goal?
Run.
She couldn't move a muscle, frozen where she was standing, unable to look away from since she first laid eyes on him. Her back flush against the door, the rush of blood in her veins was so thunderously fast her lungs were bursting to catch up. Medical instinct told her she was hyperventilating, well past the point of panicking her body no longer bothered to cooperate with her. But whatever the scope of danger she was in, she could only stare back.
"What... Why are you here?" she stammered, the first thing registering in her mind flying through her lips without a single thought. Green eyes widened and both hands clapped against her ill-timed mouth as though it could take back what had already been said.
Her fingers were trembling and cold against her hot face.
Confusion gradually melted away from Itachi's porcelain features and he gave a perpetual shrug of his shoulders, the cloak of black night and dawn clouds rustling like silk from its years of wear.
"I apologize if I caught you by surprise, but my presence here is of less consequence than yours," he stated almost casually, too casual it made the fine hairs on Sakura's arms rise.
He scared her. His ease, his seeming comfort in these surroundings full of other shinobi, it was a good indicator of how he was so sure in his capabilities of taking on all of them and getting away with it. As a wanted criminal he was of the same rank as Orochimaru, yet how could it be possible one could not sense the presence of the other?
"You are so far from home. Please, tell me this."
Oh, you are so fucking good, she recoiled inwardly. He was asking properly, the most ludicrous thing. For someone like him it was practically begging for information instead of hijacking her mind and forcing her to spew it out like a truth serum would.
And what was funny was, she would have done exactly just that had she herself known the true purpose of her stay here. She couldn't care less of what was supposed to be classified information or not for the sennin, if it gave her or Sasuke an advantage, she'd expose it in a flash.
"I... don't know. I'm sorry" she answered, lowering clenching fists from her mouth to her chest. Her mind raced through options her numb, fear-soaked body might be capable of doing. "He's never told us anything, I swear."
Through the veil of fear she perceived the doorknob just a few inches to her left, an inviting temptation. If she were fast enough... No. If she'd make enough of a commotion, someone would notice something was incredibly, horribly wrong. They needed to know he was here.
Kami-sama, Karin, don't you feel him!? she berated the redhead in her mind, completely overlooking how she herself hadn't realize who he was until she'd turned on the light.
"There is no need to draw unnecessary attention, Haruno-san," Itachi breached her thoughts, causing her to bite her lip. Well, shit. Was he also capable of mind reading?
She did not think, possibly the most stupid thing she'd done since those glowing red eyes turned out to belong to someone else.
Spinning on her heel, cold nervous hands shot out and latched onto the doorknob like a lifeline, and not feeling nor sensing any resistance against the sudden action. She deluded herself into thinking she must have been fast enough, twisting the brass metal knob, pulling it open.
Her eyes screwed shut at the bitter moment of reality when her shoulder was yanked back. With the speed of light both Sakura's wrists were pinned above her head using a single powerful hand, her back brusquely reintroduced to the heavy oaken door to loudly slam it shut as her weight was thrown against it.
The magnitude of her failure washed over her like ice water, the dread of death seeping through her nerves. Kami-sama, now she'd spat on his mercy he was going to kill her, she was going to die, this was it, this is the end and her body was going to be found cold and setting into rigor mortis when someone—
Gradually the smell of fire assailed her senses, something she dangerously trademarked as Sasuke's alone, finding through hiccuped breaths the courage to look up into the unsettlingly still sharingan of his older brother. I'm still alive!
Uchiha Itachi possessed a raw sexuality about him, something very absent, she suddenly realized, in his younger brother. She could not say whether it was only he who owned such an enigmatic charisma or it was Sasuke who was lacking because pity her, the case of the eradication of their kin was staring her down for directly going against his orders and trying to escape. A warm, tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach made her queasy.
The scent of smoke and his sweat and the traces of soot on his skin had her deducing he had come from somewhere else (an assassination or another mass killing...? a dead jinchuuriki somewhere, Naruto...?) and only an chance detour brought him here to her room.
He was so close she could see those long, girlish lashes of deep-set eyes, so close she could see distinctly the patterns of the sharingan with the way he was bent over to meet her face to face. He was so close they were breathing in the same air, inhaling what he exhaled, the defining musk of his identity. It did nothing to detract from the heat building within her, pooling in her loins at the way he held her vulnerable.
All those overheard conversations and whispered laughter of bowing to the ministrations of the older Uchiha, to be prostrate under such talented hands despite his cruel reputation, came flooding back to her. So this is it, she wondered idly, his lips so achingly the same as his brother's up close.
He was not panting (goodness no...) not hard pressed for oxygen unlike her. It was a perfectly even rhythm sweeping across her face with every breath out, the pulse in the hollow of his throat a balanced tempo. This was what those shallow, mindless, insensitive gigglers were talking about. It shamed her how she was — despite knowing better and hoping to do better — being affected in the same way if not worse. If she'd only tip her head up a bit more she would end up kissing him, which she wasn't quite sure as to how he'd react to.
She squirmed, half trying to get away and half trying to put more distance between them.
"Please avoid escaping again," he said calmly, soft voice whispering against her skin in hot, measured breaths and effectively freezing her in position.
"If I see you even trying to use chakra," he added, leaning in closer to her ear, his free hand coming to rest opposite on her waist, its heat passing through her shirt and nesting on her skin, "I will kill you."
Out the window went all the ideas of wrenching free with her chakra-enhanced strength and slamming her fist into the floor. It could have been a good escape/distraction/sign of his presence but reason dictated to value her life more.
Sakura, you idiot. He's offering you another chance, you better make good on it! Castigating herself did not help although it brought things back into proportion. Besides, if he had wanted her dead he could have done so even before she realized who she was dealing with, let enough at any point in time.
She didn't like him, she really didn't. Itachi was the reason Sasuke was doing all of this – this madness of running to Orochimaru for help, his death the incentive for him leaving the village. She knew she would never really understand how much the younger Uchiha truly hated him, but she had her own reasons for her odium against this man. Any excuses she could make because right now she was scared shitless, and it didn't change the fact that she couldn't wrap her head around Itachi being in her room.
After constantly chasing Naruto and giving chase to Sasuke, and overlooking her, he was here. Looking for her. Talking to her.
But no. She would not be intimidated by this... by this... Monster. Whatever he appeared to be, however he wanted to style himself as, he was always going to be a monster to her, spawned out of the depths of the netherworlds. She needed all her wits about her, comply by the rules he set and try to beat him at it. He needed her alive? She needed to stall. Get as much as she could from him and... and then what? Think, Sakura!
"Answer my question," Sakura murmured, voice quiet as she could in the muted shadow of his height. It was do or die. If she was gonig to be terrorized by this man, she should at the very least be able to get something useful.
If Sasuke would find out she'd met his brother, spoken to him shinobi to shinobi and was untouched in the face of adversity plus nothing to show, she doubted she'd remain unhurt for long. The volatility of her former teammate's temper assured her he'd take every second of being in Itachi's presence out on her skin.
She might as well do something since she did not trust herself to ignore and lie about such a development. Or do it with a straight face.
There was a soft swallow on his part and green eyes followed the way his throat moved. Fearing she wouldn't be able to hold up meeting those fearsome eyes directly, she'd settled on focusing beneath his face. She knew he was capable of employing illusions even without the aid of his bloodline limit but it was purely out of her personal conviction that she refused to see him eye to eye. If he was annoyed by what she was doing he sure wasn't showing it.
"I swear on my own life, I don't know why I'm here," she repeated with conviction, Because if I won't believe I can pull this off then who else would?, feeling relieved she did not sound half as scared as she truly was feeling. "But I also asked, and I want an answer from you too."
For a solid minute he did not respond, only disquisitively look at her with cold calculation. There was no way to know what was going on in his black as night head and she could feel how mundane, how pathetically nothing she was in his point of view. If she played at being more interesting, it might just buy her more time.
Those lips parted (too soft looking by any standard but it matched him so perfectly with the hint of hours-old stubble because he was a man and he was not Sasuke, he was definitely not Sasuke...) and he spoke, breaking through her comparisons.
"I see," he cadenced, in an accent and speaking manner so different from his brother's but with a voice whose origins were painfully the same. "I'm here for my foolish otouto's protection."
Are you kidding me!? she screamed inside her mind.
Not a single word of it passed through her teeth but her expression must have betrayed her. It was in the simple way his lips tightened, vacant red irises boring right through her.
"I may not convince you, though it's not quite my problem," was the hard, silky response. His posture straightened bringing fresh, cold air back to her instead of the essence of his heated breaths. "Let's just be clear. You are here in the land of Iron, alive, with Orochimaru, with my brother, and you don't know why?"
If he put it that way it did seem rather like a fruitless endeavor.
"Yes," was Sakura's only sobering reply, turning to look to the side to distract herself on the mess of her desk. She was finally calming down and she didn't want to ruin anything just now. Not when a wrong move, a wrong decision might cost her more than she was willing to sacrifice.
The hold on her wrists wasn't strong, only enough to keep them up above her head. It could have also been a way to tell her she wasn't worth expending any effort over but she had a nagging feeling he was not doing this for the sheer fun of hurting her.
Now that was such a messed up comparison, especially considering Sasuke was such a demented sadist when enough buttons were pushed. Of course, seeing the younger brother was so heartlessly brutal even minus the fact he tried to kill her, the older brother must be absolutely psychotic, right? Right?
The hand on her hip was warm and light, his worded threat and posture menacing because of his notoriety but she had yet to see a blade, yet to feel any agonizing torment except the shock and awe of his plain presence. Even with her wrists pinned uselessly above her head, the hold was slack as though he'd perfectly calculated how much pressure she could take before she'd feel pain.
If she pulled just enough, she could break herself loose.
"Do you think that by being here, you're helping my brother?" he asked, a quiet seriousness in his tone. The way he spoke, so mellifluously low, stirred what strands of pink and blonde hair strayed in her face.
It was obvious he had no qualms about invading her personal space, although her nitpicking side deduced it could be another tactic of distraction.
It was understandable how keeping her under wraps was important to his motive but this, the bare inch of space between them, it was a tad too much. He made her feel so exposed but then again, she had no problems letting him do whatever the hell he wanted so long as he didn't kill her or turn her into a vegetable.
Sakura was not so bullheaded as Naruto. She was well aware of her own limitations and knew when to give up. Kakashi once told her she had some talent for genjutsu, but even she knew if she was pitted against the older of the Uchiha brothers, there was nothing she would be able to do to break out of whatever phantasmal vision he could use. He almost destroyed her teacher in a single illusion. She could not fight him if she wished to live. She would't.
What remained for her was to take whatever was dealt her and hope he was not the kind of lunatic who changed his mind at the last minute and decide he wanted her dead. After all, she was dealing with Uchiha Itachi. Even Konoha did not have enough records to determine the stability of his sanity.
Still, his question was perplexing. Why, indeed? What was she doing here? Had she not come here because of Sasuke? Because she wanted to help him, to be with him? To make him come home?
She bit her lip. What do you want me to say?
Everything made no sense. All this man's actions were so contradictory. If she told him she was here to help his brother, would he kill her to prevent Sasuke from becoming stronger? Or would he let her live?
"Haruno-san, please answer me."
It was a gamble. Every beat of her heart a dull, painful ache, seeing past his heavy lashes to meet a faint image of herself reflected in rubies.
"I..."
The words were catching in her throat but she swallowed, seeing impatience in those scarlet eyes. Just say it. SAY IT!
"I love your brother," she choked, desperately hoping he would be gracious enough for mercy. "I love Sasuke and I'll do anything, anything to keep you away from him!"
A heartbeat.
Then... relief. She could't believe it.
Itachi's face visibly relaxed, a tenseness in his posture she noticed only now disappearing as his shoulders sagged, the hand on her waist considerably tightening its hold as though to support his weight. He took a deep breath, a slow blink of his dark, maroon eyes lending a softness to his features.
Was this... what he wanted?
Yes! her inner self cheered, another surge of adrenaline pumping into her body. The risk paid off.
"Make me a promise," he ordered in the smooth baritone that sounded like Sasuke when he was quietly contemplating something.
"Wait, a what?"
The restraint pinioning her arms above her head relented.
Sakura found herself staring at large palms and slender fingers clasping both of hers tightly but gently, stained in black smudges of soot from the unmistakable hallmark of grand fireballs, her heart lurching in her throat. Was he letting her go? Was this it? Everything was still not making any sense, the connections lost on her as she raised green eyes to look the enigma of a man in the face.
He was still looking down at their joined hands. Elegant eyebrows were drawn together in what seemed like confusion to her.
"I... Itachi?"
Red irises snapped up to meet hers and for a hair-raising second the sharingan swirled before it slowed to a halt. She mentally checked and was mollified to know nothing felt wrong with her, feeling the heat of his hands around hers.
"Make me a promise," his formidable voice etching every important word into her memory, demanding her full attention. "Whatever you will come to know here, protect Sasuke. Whatever happens you will not fail him."
The forceful way he intoned the command made her press back into the tough oak of the door, all reason thrown to the wind at why he was ordering her to do such a thing as she nodded by instinct, apprehensive for the life of her. A frown pulled down at the edges of his mouth.
"I-I will," she swallowed lightly, licking dry lips.
What followed next was what finally pushed her into the spiral of despair she was trying to avoid to slip into since the time she laid eyes on the older brother of the one she loved. It felt like the culmination of every unfortunate circumstance possible to Sakura, and she could do nothing but bite her lip and try to fight back the tears of helplessness that brimmed misery into emerald eyes.
Three powerful raps against wood.
"Sakura, I know you're in there. Open this door!" Sasuke's angry voice reverberated, hanging in the air between her and his brother.
ooo000ooo
After storming outside Sasuke had spent his day in the icy forest, sitting in wet snow underneath a blackened tree and mulling over what had happened. Wind blew and snow crystals settled on his lashes but he had only stared dead ahead into the nothingness, lost in thought.
What have you done to me? he reprimanded her in his head. This was completely unlike him.
He never thought of her as anything other than a giant, pestering nag who could do nothing more productive on her own time. His head had hurt from thinking too much, from wasting so much time trying to pinpoint exactly where he went wrong.
She was nothing to him. Nothing.
Yet every time he saw her now, he wanted to grab her, take her, hurt her. One way or another something she'd say or do would shatter all his resolve of not giving a fuck and want to do something about the tormenting fountain of whatever it was inside of him that only exacerbated when she was around. He'd tried doing almost everything to make it go away. Heck, he'd attacked her, hurt her, kissed her.
It did nothing.
She was so wrong it hurt to even know she breathed and dreamed and lived, and continued on fucking living like whatever gods there were saw fit to insult his own existence by creating her.
He'd find himself so lost in wanting to end her but at some point it would hit him how he didn't want her gone. And then the next thing she'd do is prove to him he was wrong and push the circle to come round again to feeling so much hate for her it was driving him insane.
The reasonings he cooked up just to give an explanation for feeling like this, they might have worked only temporarily. In the long run it seemed he lost part of the battle in controlling his emotions. Had she grown on him, unconsciously, subconsciously getting under his skin? Only he denied it ever happened, it ever could happen, not wanting to acknowledge it? Had he believed he could shove her away, pull her back harder at a snap of his fingers and expect no retribution on his part? That he won't be affected?
Somewhere from when the sun begun fading in the purple sky to when the crystal stars winked he'd wondered if this was what Orochimaru wanted. That he'd called for her, the sole purpose of an excruciating affliction, to wreak havoc on his sanity. Was it? So he would be wasted, much too jaded, pulling his mind apart for easier reception of the parasite of the sennin's mind?
It had to be. It seemed to be the only answer.
For fuck's sake the slimy cock wasn't even doing anything to her. They just talked as though killing time had been part of his ultimate purpose.
If this is what you want, you're failing, he brooded darkly, watching the golden red disc disappear below the peaks of the Three Headed Wolf. This fucking game had to come to an end eventually. If his mentor believed he wouldn't notice then it wouldn't be his problem.
This very night, he would come to grips with everything. He weighed his decisions, knowing exactly what had to happen. Sakura. You're not part of this.
And once he'd removed her and she was gone, he'd duel with the Snake and destroy him.
His brother was waiting. Three, four, five, six, seven years. The reason he'd done everything he did until now. He was strong enough already. He hated enough. He'd kill him, and his foolish aniki would regret he ever let him live.
ooo000ooo
Those intense red eyes were smothering Sakura, her front teeth grinding down against the skin behind her lip without care for the blood she could taste. She could not move, could not cry, could not mouth a single word in utter fear the person banging on the door would know who was in her room.
"Sakura! Open the door!"
It did not surprise her Itachi did not seem the least bit troubled at the sudden presence of his younger brother. In fact, from how the dark red of his blood limit unwaveringly zeroed in on her he did not appear to have even heard Sasuke shouting a few feet away.
He must have picked up on his presence, felt him, a long time before Sasuke had made his demands, however way he did it. She doubted anything would be able to catch Uchiha Itachi off guard.
"One more thing, Haruno-san," came the sultry whisper, the sharingan relentless in keeping her prisoner as one of his hands rose to mildly brush her chin and release her lower lip from the clamp of her teeth. The smell of smoke was still strong and she knew it would follow her back creeping into her nightmares.
His voice was low and soft but her paranoia was screaming at her that his brother could hear them.
"The only people who must know of me visiting you, are the both of us."
Stained, gentle hands released her as he (the killer, deserter, murderer, jukeisha...) effortlessly moved towards the window above her desk, the only one open and curtains thrown back. Knees bending, spine bowing as though he were about to take flight, street lights sparkling in the frost settled in his black hair. The urgency to stop him hit Sakura so hard it made her question herself.
He mustn't go. Don't! There was something so much deeper, she just felt it, three more rapid knocks banging on the door, because this didn't have to be the end. She had so many things to ask, so many cobwebs to sweep away. There had to be something else...
"Wait!"
Her feet moved on their own, sprinting across the room towards the fallen angel crouching on the window sill, reaching out to grab him back, stop this mistake. His figure tensed into a pause, dark head turning to look towards her over his shoulder just as she halted right before she verged upon him.
Her outstretched hand, fingertips already brushing the fabric of the cloak of darkest nights and scarlet dawns, curled back into her chest as if she realized just who she was asking to stay.
Stop, wait. Talk to me. Please.
Whatever she had to say to him, all those questions, were gone, stilled on her tongue, paralyzed by fear, by uncertainty. She didn't know what to start with, no words to give. All she knew was that he needed to explain so much because there were a lot of things, in those files in the dusty folders or the scrolls with unbroken seals, they required answers no matter how long they've been waiting. And he could give those. He had to—
Itachi reached out, his fingers ever so tenderly sliding across her hairline, taking a loose lock from the green barrettes between his middle and index fingers. The mark of fire stained her hair as his touch slipped past the pink roots and stopped at the strands where the silver gold dye had yet to fade. Impassive, all-seeing eyes.
A faintly amused smile tinged his lips.
"The resemblance... is incredible."
ooo000ooo
It splintered beneath the force of Sasuke's foot, the oak panel banging open with a tearing snap as the brass doorknob was ripped away from the wall, twisted metal hanging loosely from its socket. Frankly, he could not believe it had come to this but the intense loathing was leaking inside of him, bitter memories breaking what he had been rebuilding in himself little by little in the past few days.
Sakura.
Refocus on what was important, reorganize his priorities. No more diversions, no more games. Waiting for her to leave wasn't fast enough. It wouldn't cut it. For all the time she was here she'd been breaking him down, spelling disaster. This was going to be his goodbye.
Through the wood fibers floating in the air, slow in their descent, he could see her, standing still in front of the giant desk, facing an open window blowing ice crystals into the room. The heavy floor to ceiling curtains stirred on each side of her, short blonde hair fluttering in the wind except for those plastered down by the shiny plastic clips, as green as her eyes. He could not see her face, her back turned towards him.
"Sakura."
The twitch at the sound of his voice was extremely visible, he could practically feel the anxiety emanating from her as though she were a tensed coil wound so tight she could shatter. So fucking pathetic.
"You always keep doing this, making me wait so much it makes me hate you so much, you know that?" he breathed, striding across the deep blue carpet, his bare feet sinking into its lushness.
The moment his hand settled on his former teammate's petite shoulder, she whirled around.
"I'm sorry!"
Green, red-rimmed eyes bright with tears, small white teeth biting down on a swollen lower lip. Her usually smooth cheeks were mottled with deep red splotches, skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Dark circles under soft, magenta lashes. Haggard, tired, stressed. By what? Clearly she had been like this even before he'd come calling and destroyed her door. It raised a waving red flag, a foreboding thought telling him he already knew why.
Orochimaru is making his move. She took a step back, pressing into the desk and wiping away her tears with the heels of her palms. She looked scared, shaken. Of me? What the fuck happened?
"Sasuke, I'm sorry, he—"
"Sakura, dear. What's happened to you?"
All the pent up frustration Sasuke felt, the confusion of powerfully conflicting emotions within him, almost exploded. In rusty, jerky movements he managed to turn around, not exactly holding back the glare at the person who interrupted her, standing in the doorway with a polished smile.
"Tsk, tsk, Sasuke-kun, you mustn't treat her so badly," his mentor sibilated, moving like the snake he was, arms silkenly crossing over his chest. The black trench coat he was wearing contrasted painfully against his white complexion, the violet skin around his eyes bringing out the golden slit-pupiled irises. From a few meters away he could still see the decadence of the sennin's expression, goading him.
Unable to take the frown off his face, he moved from Orochimaru's golden glee to look at Sakura. All color had drained from her face.
"Well," the sennin flourished as he gestured toward them with a single hand, open palmed as though he were oblivious to the mess Sasuke had strewn across the carpet. He did not fail to see how the hand was extended towards his former teammate. "I shall be taking our guest out for a nice dinner. And you be a good boy and stay here, hmm?"
"No."
Both pairs of eyes flicked toward Sasuke at the flat out rejection but he found he couldn't stomach all the pretending happening here, curling hands tempted to release the lightning building within.
"Sasuke-kun," came the saccharine scolding, the offered hand lowering, "your tantrums are getting old. A dinner with Karin might ease your mood. In fact, she's already waiting downstairs. Sakura, my child," his glittering smile taking over his face, "It's time."
NO! his mind screamed at every turn, at every insistence. And he would have made it clear what he wanted when he felt a warm hand on his arm, feeling her walk around him to see him face to face. He knew his glare had refocused on her but he didn't care.
"Please, let me do this," she pleaded in a soft whisper. "I won't take too long. I'll come back."
No! Anger was being stoked within the recesses of his mind, to grab her, stop her, make her do as he wanted. About to voice another brutal rejection, he was stopped when she mouthed a few words. She stood in front of him, her back to the door and to Orochimaru. She'd done it on purpose, a cold feeling overtaking him.
"I love you."
Those sad, green eyes were looking at him, imploring for consideration. From behind her his mentor approached them, taking one of her hands in his from behind.
"Ta-ta, Sasuke-kun," he lisped, too preoccupied with some insanity of being happy with his guest to bother noticing the frozen look on his face.
Minutes after the two had exited the room, the pink-blonde hair curling around the ends as she turned for a last time to look at him lingered in his memory. Whether it had been to a reassurance or a call for help, he did not know. But what he could distinctly pick out from the hazy image in his mind was the way their hands were joined, her dainty fingers enclosed by his soft palm. Even as they had disappeared into the darkness of the hallway he remained rooted where he stood. The sensation of fine hairs rising swept across his flesh, not from the breeze of the open window.
Everything came flooding back to him, the realization of uncanny similarities that had progressed as the days lengthened, minute instances so common and so overlooked, the way the light touched her face, the tremendous care ordered for her delivery, it was beginning to fall into place between the two of them. The smooth, clear skin. The frightful intelligence. The lack of his morbid experimentation usually reserved for specimens who greatly took his interest. Those hands. Those hands (reaching out toward her again, her own reaching out to meet his, large palms as soft and white as powder taking hers...) had to be a coincidence.
Massaging his temples, Sasuke tried to think fast if his assumptions were lining up correctly. He could be mistaken for all he knew, a kismet not even worth wasting time on. There were a lot of explanations ready to justify the horrible, sinking sensation at the... the theory he came up with. It was a scandal. Could it be...?
The last Uchiha bit on the knuckle of a fist, trying hard to catch the thoughts making sense which were barely fleeting in his head, straining to see the connections, to make out what had he missed.
Breathing deeply, another familiar voice interrupted his preoccupied thoughts.
"Sasuke?"
The voice was timid and low, coming from the outside of the room. Not again. From the shadows emerged bright red hair, her glasses winking in the soft yellow lights of Sakura's room. It wasn't a particularly good time to catch him, the ghosts of those bonds surfacing for a starkly bright millisecond already fast fading into the background of his insecurities and murky emotions.
"What do you want?" he asked sharply, warily taking out the hand from his mouth as he raised his gaze, hardly keeping the disturbed undertones out of the way he spoke. He really didn't like any company at the moment. "How long have you been standing there?"
Karin bit her lip, leaning against the side of the doorway without the splintered mess of wood, appearing more worried than anything.
"I was with Orochimaru-sama, but I stayed back," she answered, fingering the hems of her sleeves in a nervous habit. "Sasuke... he's up to something. I can feel it."
A heartbeat passed.
"Do you still remember where to find Suigetsu and Juugo?"
Every fiber of his being was tensed, agitated.
"Of course."
"Look for a map we can use," he ordered, voice rough, eyes blazing red. "Then get ready to leave."
AN: FUCK YEAH
I know, I know. A lot of shit went down in this chapter, and that's exactly how it's supposed to go. :D If you can tell where this is going, feel free to give me your thoughts and all the good stuff you want to let me know, criticisms, flames, whatever. COME AT ME, READERS!