Chapter 10

Sasuke's Raikiri chirps to life in his hand. He's too close for me to avoid the impact on time. My training dictates that if I find it impossible to avoid damage, I should minimize it. I shift my position accordingly, bracing myself for the impact.

Except it doesn't come. The Raikiri shrivels and dies.

Part of me jumps with joy within, thinking he has changed his mind… but I'm neither stupid nor blind.

Sasuke is glaring at me, his Sharingan as red as the blood from the wound on his cheek, but his gaze is slightly unfocused. Genjutsu, I realize. I feel safe enough to look over my shoulder and, sure enough, I find Itachi standing there.

"Are you coming?" he asks.

I look at Sasuke again. I don't know how the Sharingan works against another Sharingan. I don't know what genjutsu Itachi trapped him in or how, but Sasuke doesn't seem to be in pain. That's more than enough for me.

"I came looking for you," my heart is screaming, "I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to make it seem like I betrayed you. But I don't think Itachi is the man you think he is."

I step away from him, numb inside. The rain keeps pattering, unrelenting and I don't think I've ever felt so cold as the adrenaline starts leaving my system.

"Sasuke!"

His companions just realized something's wrong. I hear their voices as if from a great distance, but they're coming towards us. Once more, Itachi is pulling me behind him. It's hard to resist him when I'm such a mess inside. A tear falls, unseen among the raindrops on my face. It leaves a burning trail behind.

Then I see a flash of black and red and Kisame suddenly appears beside Itachi, his presence making Sasuke's team halt. Two Akatsuki against three Oto-nin. I think the odds are pretty clear, even though the math might be deceiving. They seem to pick up on it, because they don't advance.

"Let's go," Itachi says.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun."

I don't know when my legs move, I just notice we're off when I suddenly find myself jumping from branch to branch, following bright-red clouds on black. Hours pass and I think of nothing. My mind is empty, my soul devoid of emotion. There is nothing but cold and endless rain.

The woods are almost dark when Kisame and Itachi stop, a little ahead of me. I kick a branch, land on another, once, twice, and I finally manage to catch up with them. I've been lagging behind for the past hour or so, forcing them to adjust their pace. Kisame doesn't seem too pleased. He growls something and sets out ahead, on his own. I just stand there, forlorn, waiting for someone to tell me what to do.

Itachi walks up to me. I'm looking at his feet, because my head feels too heavy to hold up. I see the long strip of black fabric in his hand and I know what's coming. We're near another hideout and he's going to blindfold me. Oh, joy. I don't have it in me to protest, so I wait for him to just put it on and be done with it. Soon, we'll be someplace warm, I hope - somewhere I can just go to sleep and forget about today.

"Sakura."

Itachi's voice is coming from afar. This happened before, I think, but my mind refuses to remember. My eyes blur, his feet coming in and out of focus. Suddenly, his thumb is under my chin and my eyes dart up along with my head, wide and full of tears. I see myself reflected in his Sharingan and for a moment, I catch glimpse of what connects us. We are both made from broken parts, struggling to keep ourselves together. Our pain bears the same name.

Itachi's hand cups my cheek and he wipes away my tears with his thumb. His touch is hot against my cold skin and I lean into it instinctively, closing my eyes. Neither of us says anything as we lean into each other. Words would only make this real. I press my cheek against his chest as he rests his chin on top of my head, and we let silence envelop us. It's enough that for a few minutes, our hearts beat together. It feels like forever.

There's no awkwardness when we pull apart. I don't regret anything. I needed this more than I'd probably like to admit. I wait, patiently, as he puts the blindfold over my eyes and reach out for him when the world goes dark. He's right there. He bends down, pulls me up on his back and in a moment I feel the wind in my hair again.

It doesn't take as long for us to reach this hideout as it did leaving the one before. I'm too tired to pay attention to the direction Itachi is taking me in once we're inside. I know it's unprofessional of me. Lesson number one: a ninja should always be aware of his or her surroundings. Except right now, I don't want to be a ninja. I just want to be Sakura, even if she's hurting.

We stop. I hear the door shutting behind me. I don't take the blindfold off myself, I wait for Itachi to do it. We're in a small room, not much unlike the one before. It has the same, sparse, standard-issue furniture. I let my backpack drop and shuffle towards the bed, half-asleep.

"Your clothes are wet," Itachi says. "You're going to catch a cold."

I don't have anything else to wear. If this were anyone else, I'd doubt their intentions, but I don't think Itachi is anything like that. He's the first guy I've ever spent so much time alone with, and he's never made me feel unsafe like that. In other ways, yes, but never like that.

I hear him rummaging through his cloak's many pockets and turn to see him pull out a scroll, which he promptly unfurls on the wooden floor. When he places his palm on it, two sets of folded t-shirts and sweatpants appear. I see. I've been wondering how he carries his personal items around. He hands a set to me, then holds out a hand, pointing to a second door, which leads into a small bathroom.

I nod my head in thanks and go inside, shutting the door behind me. It takes me a few minutes to peel off my wet clothes. I look in the mirror for a moment. Pale. Disheveled. I don't look like myself much. I look away and start putting on Itachi's dry clothes. I notice the t-shirt has the Uchiha fan on the back and stare at it for a moment. Sometimes I forget Itachi is an Uchiha.

The clothes are not as big as I thought they would be. In fact, I don't believe they would fit Itachi. Not anymore, at least. I frown, thinking these must be some of the clothes he left Konoha with. I look over my shoulder, at the Uchiha symbol reflected in the mirror.

Itachi kept these, even if they don't fit him anymore. This is more than nostalgia. This is regret. Could it be possible that the task of killing his clansmen was forced upon him somehow? The more I think about it, the more likely it seems. The only leverage they could have had was…

Sasuke-kun.

I lean against the sink, overcome with emotion. I've felt so numb up until now that this torrent takes me completely by surprise. Sorrow and rage both wreck me from the inside out and tear my heart anew as the realization sinks in.

I can't imagine anyone in Konoha capable of doing this to someone, but… I guess I've always been naïve like that. I don't know who they are, but I know what they did.

They turned Itachi's love against him.