A/N: I don't get notifications for PM's or reviews anymore. I tried to fix it a couple times, but it's just not working for me. I check in every once in a while, though. Thank you guys for continuing to leave me nice little comments. It makes my day when I read them.
She could remember, in the not so distant past, how desperately she wanted to hole away behind closed doors. Avoid everything and everyone, as if self-isolation could rewrite her fate. Deny what happened, and the harrowing reality she found herself in. Now that she was forced to stay captive in Izumi's home, she was itching to leave. Funny how well reverse psychology worked. Frustrating how her awareness of it couldn't alleviate her restlessness, too.
Waiting was never easy. Waiting for a biased judge and jury to decide what to do with her without her own input was even worse. She'd been given no timeline for how long she would be wallowing in house arrest, nor any indication of what would happen once it came to an end.
"Are you sure that's all you want?" Izumi called from the kitchen. The consistent chopping of a knife and the occasional plop of something into a pot meant she decided on stew. The acidic aroma of onions carried to the window Sakura was peering out of at the back of house.
"Yes, this is plenty." She insisted. Wisps of steam warmed her face as a half-eaten sweet potato hovered under her chin. She held onto the bottom of it and nibbled away, eating it the way she would a piece of fruit. There was a hum of doubt, but the Uchiha didn't argue.
Shadows melted the forest into obscurity as the sun crept beneath the horizon. Fog continued to hang low between the trees, though the storm passed two days ago. The air was cool and still, both eerie and peaceful.
"Do you think they will have you help at the hospital again? With so many injured, I'm surprised you're still stuck at home with me. They must need all the help they can get." She mused aloud. Her initial walk past all the cots on the day she arrived made it clear they were at max capacity. It had to be much worse, now that the rest of the men had returned.
The chopping paused in the other room.
"They do… But… I'm thinking Madara-sama doesn't want you left alone. You may not be a trained shinobi they need to lock up, but leaving you unattended wouldn't be the best idea. It's…too much of a risk."
"What do they think I'm going to do? Sneak around in the dead of night and try to heal people against their will? It's not like I can fight my way out of here." Sakura laughed softly. It sounded much more defeated than amused.
Izumi's head poked around the corner, eyes watering through the sting the onions left behind. She sniffed a couple times.
"Well… I don't think they're worried about you doing something…" She began hesitantly. Wanting to explain, but afraid of instilling more anxiety than was necessary. The poor girl probably had more than enough already that she was trying to cope with in silence.
Izumi watched her huddle at the window. Blanketed in mossy green robes that could have melted her into the darkening treeline beyond and helped her disappear forever. If she could, the Uchiha would have shoved her into the fog and told her to run and never look back, but it wasn't so easy.
She followed her gaze into the shadows and sighed. If it was a month or so earlier, the fireflies would still be out, but summer was coming to an end. Soon, there would be nothing left to see in the waning light.
"It's probably for your safety more than anyone else's. Until everything has…settled down.
"I understand." The hand holding the potato lowered to her lap with her quiet murmur. Sakura rested her chin in her palm, eyelids sinking as she stared into space. It was as she expected. She just wanted to hear the confirmation.
"It will take some time, but it won't be like this forever. I promise…"
She glanced over her shoulder and was moved to see the eyes watching her from the doorway, crinkled with worry. Or maybe it was the onions… Either way, it was time to change the subject. There wasn't much to distract herself with, but mulling over all the bleak possibilities of her future was only going to make this waiting game more agonizing.
Forcing a smile, she took another bite of the potato and abandoned the window. "Here, I'll help you cook. What else needs to be chopped?"
"Carrots…but only if you're going to eat with me." Pushing stubbornly, she swung the small knife up from her side and twirled the handle toward her.
The smile managed to reach her eyes at that. With a relenting nod, she took the knife from her. "Okay…I'll eat a little."
"Good! Because some of this stuff is going to go bad soon if I don't get rid of it. Oh–do you like mushrooms?"
Three loud raps on her new front door–courtesy of her helpful elderly neighbor, who knew a thing or two about carpentry–made the Uchiha jump halfway to the kitchen. She stopped so suddenly, Sakura almost smacked into her, and they both fell silent.
Wide brown eyes stared long and hard at the closed door as she tiptoed back into the hallway. The hesitation to answer was obvious.
Sakura's vision froze on the wall across from her. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that whoever was on the other side was here for her, and feeling strangely…numb.
"Stay in the kitchen, I'll be right back." Izumi whispered with a smile and an expression that tried to mirror a lighthearted nonchalance.
The time in which it took her to answer the door was long enough to make anyone suspect no one was home, or that perhaps no one heard them. Yet their visitor waited with more patience than most. The door peeked open slowly, but when she saw who was standing on the other side, there was a flash of shock on her face.
"...Oh!" With a sharp tap, the door flung the rest of the way to the side. There was a rush of relief, but it didn't last long. The awkward tone she sank into confirmed. "Sasuke… You're the last person I expected. Did you…need something?" She asked in a way that almost sounded impolite. Somehow both rushed and cautious, but he knew better than to take offense.
He regarded her with a flicker of sympathy, and then glanced away. Shifting a bit, and unconsciously drumming his fingers on the side of his leg. The feeling was apparently mutual.
"Izumi…" A cordial bow extended to her. "I would have warned you, but I had no advance notice. I won't keep you…but… I have been assigned guard duty." He explained stiffly. Or, thought he explained. A poor excuse for an answer that just opened up a dozen additional questions, and they were written all over her face.
"...Eh? Guard duty?" Head cocking slightly, she leaned out of the light of the lanterns behind her and into the blue shadows of the porch. Glancing down each end of the dimming street. A few villagers were shuffling their way home, but he was clearly alone. "Guard duty for what?"
"Her." He said bluntly. When his gaze twitched to the face tentatively peeking around the corner from the kitchen, Sakura darted back out of sight the moment their eyes locked.
"What…what do you mean? She's doing just fine here with me." Izumi prodded for some elaboration. The only thing keeping her from trying to physically shake his evasive words out of his mouth was her reluctance to actually hear what they would be.
The young man inhaled slowly. Even less enthusiastic to utter them than she was to know them. It was not his choice to show up at their door, but this was out of his hands. The only silver lining was that he knew their 'guest' would at least be safe with him, until his role ended. Though he'd never been commended for his warmth, there were far less pleasant men that could have taken his place.
"I've been sent to retrieve her. Madara's orders."
Behind Izumi, the hall remained empty. Whether Sakura could hear their conversation or not, he wasn't sure. That was part of the reason his answers were so clipped. Certainly not all…but it was the most significant one. He didn't want to sow fear, although that might prove impossible no matter what he said.. He also didn't want to resort to dragging her out against her will, either. But he couldn't lie about their destination.
The golden glow illuminating the interior narrowed into a thinner and thinner slit, before snuffing out. Sasuke watched the door slide closed in front of him. Slow and steady, and quiet as she could move. Like him, she wasn't sure how much Sakura could hear, but now she wanted more of a sound buffer.
He met her eyes expectantly. Ready for the clash of resistance. Calm and patient, but also mindful of the unspoken time limit he had to work with. Taking his time in showing up at Madara's door would invite questions he didn't want to deal with.
Sleeves crossing tightly over her chest, she was quiet for a long time as she stared at him. Measuring him in some cryptic way, and debating how to respond. Eventually, she glanced down to her feet. A sense of hopelessness undermining the optimism she was always fighting to preserve. Her face wrinkled in distress.
His gaze followed hers to the ground in silent solidarity.
Crickets chirped a soft chorus beneath the occasional clang of metal in the background. One blade bouncing off another. The dull thunk of a kunai sank into a target. Muffled chatter rose and fell from her closest neighbors. All Izumi could hear was her own tortured thoughts.
"Are you bringing her back?" She asked finally. Too soft for anyone but him to hear.
His silence gutted her more deeply with each passing second.
"Sasuke…"
In a blur of movement, the collar of his uniform was snatched by her hand. Pulling tight against the back of his neck and yanking him forward until he was uncomfortably close to her face. All formal pretense between them was erased. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but it was the only reaction he gave.
"She is coming back, isn't she?" The loud whisper hissed. Impatience born from fear, rather than anger. Something he was too familiar with himself, and so it was forgiven.
"I have no further orders." An unhelpful answer, but it was the truth. The purpose of this meeting wasn't for him to know. He was simply the messenger. If he had to guess, her outcome might still be undecided.
The fingers meshed into his shirt held for a moment longer, and then released him with a sigh of frustration. Naturally, that wasn't what she wanted to hear, but he wasn't careless enough to offer speculations without evidence. False hope–or dread–did no one any favors.
There was one bit of insight he was compelled to share, though. Something he would have kept to himself, were it not for such a miserable expression on her face.
"If you're worried about an execution, I don't see that happening in his own home." Sasuke murmured. One hand subtly adjusted the front of his shirt to align all the seams back into place.
Ah, so that's where she was going.
She nodded. Relieved to hear it, but far from satisfied. It wasn't the first conclusion she jumped to, but the possibility haunted her as much as a dozen others did. This situation was a first for all of them. Knowing what the outcome would be was difficult to pinpoint, with so many unknown factors at play. Even if Izuna himself deemed her worthy enough to bring back to their village, he didn't make the final decision about anything in their clan.
"Does…Itachi know?" A shy question. Izumi's gaze lost some of its intensity as she looked away.
Sasuke hesitated as he considered the motive for her question, and then sighed. Not the most surprising thing she could ask, he supposed, but he was in no hurry to venture down that road. The conversation could slip into territory that was too personal for both of them. He didn't have the energy for it, nor the answers that would make her feel better. It was best not to risk digging through wounds that were not in his power to mend.
"What do you expect him to do about this, Izumi?" He asked, doing his best to handle the subject gently, though he hadn't a clue where to begin with a matter this delicate.
"Something… Anything–I don't know! He's one of your best fighters, Sasuke. Madara might listen to what he has to say. He stands a way better chance at tipping the scale than someone like me…"
"What scale is that? We're never letting her go. She has an idea of where we are and the numbers we have left. He would kill her before sending her back to the Senju. Becoming one of us is her only option, now that she's here."
"I know…" She muttered quickly. Seeming embarrassed to have mentioned his brother's name at all. "What if he makes her do something she doesn't want to do, though? She's done nothing to us. She's just a victim of circumstance, and it's not right. I want her to be okay, that's all."
Crickets and kunai crept in around them once more. He kept the rest of his thoughts to himself, waiting with ebbing patience. There was nothing either of them could do to avoid this. Getting it over with would be kinder to Sakura than stalling. Easier for the both of them too, lest Madara suspect Izumi gave him any trouble when he showed up.
She glanced to the door behind her, knowing it was time to deliver the news. Uncrossing her arms, she planted a hand on its surface. There was one last question she needed to ask. A nagging uncertainty that had been tormenting her for days, and would only continue to fester until it was answered. "At that camp… You and Itachi didn't…kill any of them…did you?"
"Of course we didn't." A shadow fell over him with his defensive snap, as if the suggestion was a grave insult. The eyes settled on her hand, waiting in anticipation for her to slip back inside, flicked away in anger. Less directed at her and more at the memory of being stuck in that position to begin with, and the moral dilemma he was never able to resolve for himself.
There were very few people he was willing to discuss that night with, and she was not one of them. It was too fresh, and his own thoughts were too unsettled. Impossible to dissect without emotions erupting into something ugly. Possibly setting off a chain reaction of events he wasn't equipped to control. The fallout would affect too many people he cared about for the worse.
Nodding, she accepted the answer without taking the bite of his tone personally. In truth, it stoked a bite more fire into her waning hope. She wanted him to feel angry. If he was angry, then it meant he at least cared.
"How has Itachi been, anyway?" She dared push just a little more.
"Ask him yourself, Izumi. It's not like he hates you. He should be home soon, if you want to stop by." A faintly disturbed grimace lingered on his face. Still, he did not look at her.
Fingers pressed harder into the wood behind her, and she wavered for a short time. Her gaze lost itself into the floorboards at her feet, and eventually she turned away from him. Deciding it best to let the conversation die there. The suggestion was appreciated, though she felt little encouragement to actually follow through. Visiting their home was a bit farther than she was brave enough to go yet.
A vertical stripe of gold flooded into a bath of warm light as the door finally reopened. She stepped inside and disappeared down the hall. Leaving him to stand alone on the porch without an invitation to follow. When she rounded the corner, Sakura was standing in the kitchen where she left her. Eyes cast down and lost in her own mind as she leaned against a messy table of chopped vegetables.
Izumi was too afraid to find out how much she heard.
"It's not Izuna…?" She asked. Skeptical of both the man at the door, and her own judgment. A repeat of his initial visit had seemed like a guarantee, especially after the reception she gave his brother. The fact that it wasn't him at the door was too unbelievable.
"No… Not him." The reassurance was comforting, but something in her voice betrayed the apprehension she felt.
Sakura smiled slightly in spite of the change. She had been moved by the friendliness and hospitality the Uchiha surprised her with ever since she moved in, but not even her positive attitude was invincible.
"He looks like him." Sakura commented a little louder as she cleared her throat. Trying to sound more confident. The closed fist at her side balled her sleeve into its palm, hinting at her tension.
"Oh… You saw him?" Izumi asked cautiously. Wondering if she did find a way to eavesdrop after all. She wouldn't have blamed her. If their positions were switched, she would have done the same. "Yeah… He's…heard that a lot, over the years."
"Are they related?"
"Oh, no no… He's actually Itachi's brother. Nothing like Izuna. His name is Sasuke." Izumi smiled, but her eyes looked sad.
"But he is here for me…" Sakura concluded. A statement that didn't need confirmation. His true relation came as a surprise, but considering his purpose was apparently to escort her away, she wasn't about to celebrate.
"I guess… It is time to go then."
The Uchiha opened her mouth, but nothing came out. What was there to say? This would normally be the time she gave her a pep talk. Tried to make the situation sound less intimidating than it was. This time, it didn't seem appropriate. Continuing to pretend everything would be fine, if she couldn't guarantee the result, might do far more damage than good, if she was wrong. She really, really hoped there was nothing to worry about, but she just didn't know anymore.
Dark green robes swished past a crackling hearth, and the simmering pot that hung above. Sensing it would be more gracious to leave without waiting for her generous host to scramble for something uplifting to say. She'd done more than enough for her already.
The near-twin of her least favorite person in the world stood faithfully just outside the front door. Seeing his face again gave her chills, even if she knew he wasn't the nightmare she'd been expecting. Sakura swallowed, losing some momentum as she neared the young man.
He watched her approach with a silent mask. Guarding his true thoughts, like so many of them did. As if self-expression was a punishable offense.
Typical… The Senju shinobi she took care of hid behind a similar veil most of the time. Professional, militant, and sometimes plain mysterious. All part of their training, as she understood it. She never paid it much mind, until the ability to see through the impassive front became an invaluable skill she wished she possessed.
"Your name is Sasuke?" She asked politely, hands crossing in front of her hips as she came to a stop before him.
He nodded once, and stepped to the side so she could exit. Choppy black hair fell just below his chin, the barest shade darker than Izuna's. What little she could see of his skin was slightly paler. Other than that, the resemblance was uncanny. An open midnight blue coat ended at his knees, with a white and brown belt secured around his waist, home to small weapons and tools she recognized. Identical in uniform to the battered hoard of men she was whisked through a couple days ago. Whenever he turned around, she knew she would find the Uchiha crest embroidered proudly between his shoulders.
"If you are anything like your brother, then…it's a pleasure to meet you." She bowed, shallow and brief.
The compliment caught him off guard. He stared at her for a moment, a layer of that dense shadow dissolving away as his eyes sought her curiously.
Sandals tapped quietly onto the porch next to him, leaving her cozy prison behind for the unknown. Unsure of what kind of reception to expect, as she knew very little about the man. Until tonight, she didn't even know he existed.
"I wish it were under better circumstances." He murmured, and an arm gestured toward the road as he took a step down.
"Me too…" She smiled faintly. Pleasantly surprised by his answer. It revealed nothing of what she would be facing tonight. From another perspective, it could even come across as a forewarning to what awaited her…but that's not how she interpreted him. In a strange twist, she found the response a touch inspirational. Reinforcing the possibility that maybe there really were more Uchiha out there that didn't condemn her existence–even after the disrespect she showed their own clan leader.
Dull silver misted them as they moved into the road. The fog was easy to navigate through. Little more than a pale, translucent cloud that hung in a stationary gloom. Sakura looked back at the silhouette blotting the light from inside as Izumi hung in the doorway. "Ah…sorry I didn't get to help much. I'll make it up to you later."
A small huff responded as she settled her hands on her hips. Of all the things to say, that's what she was focused on? "I'm not worried about onions!" She chided in annoyance. Like a mother snipping at their child for not taking the situation seriously. If Sakura didn't feel so uneasy, she would have laughed.
"Dinner should be done by the time you get back. I'll keep it warm for you." Izumi added on a softer note. Willing to entertain the idea that she wouldn't be gone long, even if it did nothing to ease her nerves. Sakura watched her for another moment. An unspoken mutual understanding of all the uncertainties passing between them. Then, she turned and faded into the dusk.
Sasuke walked by her side, which she found curious. She expected him to lead the way in front of her, and yet they strolled along at a slow but reasonable pace together. A speed that she had chosen, as well.
She noticed…but she said nothing.
The high humidity dampened their cheeks. Every so often, a whiff of onion reached his nose. Reminding him that he also needed to eat soon, and his stomach gurgled in complaint. They passed through a long corridor of modest homes and shops. About half of them helped to light their way with lanterns hanging both outside, and flickering from behind windows.
Courteous introduction aside, there was no further conversation between them. He was hardly the most outgoing person in their village, but that was beside the point. Nothing seemed like the right thing to say. Both of them knew this wasn't a social call, and thus her mind was probably consumed by a hundred concerns that had nothing to do with him. Even if he was skilled with diplomacy, he feared anything he offered would just sound dishonest and forced. So, he left her in peace. The only comfort he believed he could give.
Izumi remained on the porch. Idling for as long as their forms were even the tiniest bit visible in the twilight. As though waiting for the slightest indication of trouble. She didn't expect anything to happen during their short trip, but she was prepared to swoop in all the same. When the murky blobs in the distance turned a corner and disappeared, she slunk back into her home. Rubbing the chill from her arms as she closed the door.
The sting of raw onions hit her in a sharp wave when she reentered the kitchen. Overpowering the other herbs and vegetables waiting to be chopped. The silence was unbearable. For so many nights, she cooked and tidied up alone. Ever since her parents passed, she had the place to herself, and she'd gotten used to it. Never enjoyed it, but she stopped thinking about it after a while. It became a part of life she learned to accept.
Her guest likely felt like more of a hostage than anything else, but Izumi was happy to have her around. Now all she could do was wait to see if this new silence was here to stay. The possibility that it might was enough to spoil her appetite.
Little white cubes clumped together on the cutting board in a sloppy mountain. Blurring her vision as her eyes began to water again. She endured them, resting her palms on either side of the mess and staring down through the pile. Steadily losing the will to continue her prep as her own pessimism and anxiety robbed her of the motivation to be productive. She was close to sitting down next to the hearth and just…waiting. Stew her thoughts instead of her ingredients. But the prospect of Sakura returning with nothing to eat gave her the purpose she needed to keep going.
Glancing about the table, her hand hovered in the air. Ready to pick up the knife she'd been using. Her search descended to the floor around her feet when she found it empty. Thinking the blade must have clattered down.
Nope. The only thing waiting for her was some more onion that had fallen off the edge.
Shuffling into the back room, she stared vacantly out the dark window Sakura was seated at earlier. Mentally retracing all the steps she'd taken before the knock interrupted them. It wasn't like her to misplace a knife. Her home wasn't nearly cluttered enough for it to have lost itself so quickly and thoroughly.
The last thing she remembered was giving it to Sakura.
That's right... Because she offered to help cook.
And then Sakura went back into the kitchen…with the knife.
But the knife was no longer in the kitchen…
Which meant Sakura still had her knife.
"Why would…" Whispering under her breath, her wide eyes zoned out at the window. She only froze for another heartbeat or two, and then spun around and sprinted down the short hall and out the front door.
Soft earth smeared under her feet as she slid into the middle of the road, nearly losing her balance. The long tunneling stretch of fog before her was empty, like she knew it would be. If the two hadn't reached Madara's door yet, they undoubtedly would before she could catch up to them. There would be no easy or safe way to intervene now.
Arms lifting, her cold fingers meshed together over the top of her head as her mind raced. Cheeks puffed out like chipmunk's. Holding her breath, as if it would help her decide what the hell she was supposed to do now…if anything.
"She's not that crazy… Is she…?" A shaky voice whispered in disbelief with a gush of an exhale that deflated her cheeks.
"Maybe she just forgot she was holding it."
No, that couldn't be it. She clearly remembered Sakura's hands were empty before she walked out of the kitchen. Except for that fist that was balling her sleeve against her palm.
"She hid it…" Izumi's gut somersaulted at the possibility. Sakrura must have concealed it, but why? Even with the kind of stress she'd been suffering through ever since she arrived, the Uchiha found it difficult to believe she would go on the offensive. Least of all with someone like Madara. Most trained shinobi couldn't get within ten feet of the man without finding themselves in a world of pain. What the hell was she thinking?
Time was wasting. Whatever her plan was, Izumi wasn't going to figure it out on her own. She had to act. In the case that their friendly neighborhood Senju really did lose her last marble and try to stab someone that was a seasoned professional at avoiding literally exactly that kind of threat, she needed a miracle yesterday.
Izumi was fresh out of miracles, but one idea did dawn its promising light in the back of her mind. The very man she tried to prod Sasuke to wrangle into this potential disaster. Now it was up to her.
"Itachi." She groaned quietly. The cold fingers squeezed together and scrunched up the hair on the top of her head. Her brow wrinkled in dismay.
"...Boar, horse, tiger… Boar, horse, tiger… Boar, torse, higer–err….hah… Boar, horg, tis–" A loud smack sent mud flicking through the air as the boy stomped his foot in frustration. Then his feet went pattering closer, determined not to fall too far behind his newest sensei.
There were so many of them that it was getting hard to keep their names straight. One always ready to replace another when they had to go off and fight. Or when they got stuck in the hospital. Or when they never came home…
Itachi shook his head almost imperceptibly. Never pausing in his slow march. Their training session ended fifteen minutes ago, but instead of going home to eat dinner like the rest of the students, this little walking fire hazard decided to follow his footsteps all the way back to his own home.
"You already know the pattern. That isn't the problem." He reminded, eyes locked on the door ahead that promised him the solitude and rest he'd been waiting for all day. It was too dark to see much of anything, but he knew exactly where he lived. He could find his way home with his eyes closed.
A small blackened face looked up at the back of his head through the haze. Coated in smudges of soot that descended to the singed neckline of his robes. Wild strands of fried hair stuck out at odd angles around his forehead. It had been a long day trying to tame fireballs. He thought it would be easy, but with this pitiful success rate, he was starting to wonder if his sloppy attempts had offended some primordial fire spirit that was now trying to eat him in punishment.
"Keep practicing the hand signs individually. Move slower, until forming them feels second nature." Itachi spun around to face him, ponytail swishing like a lazy whip. The boy jumped with a start. "And do not practice inside your house."
He nodded quickly, his gravity-defying hair waving like stubborn blades of grass reaching for the sky. "Can I watch you do it one more time?" He asked hurriedly, knowing he was pushing his luck, but this was important. If he couldn't master a fireball jutsu, then no one would take him seriously.
"No. We're done for tonight. You can try again tomorrow, but remember what I told you."
The boy sighed and looked away, but he was smart enough not to argue. "Practice my hand signs slowly…and not in the house…"
"Yes. Now get home before you miss dinner."
"Okayy… I'll see you tomorrow, sensei." The disappointment oozed with each word, but he turned and pattered back down the road. This wouldn't be the night he conquered anything, but at least there was hot food to look forward to.
Itachi watched his short, blurry silhouette melt into the fog. It seemed like only yesterday he was having similar conversations with his own brother. All the nights Sasuke pestered him to share every technique he knew. Insistent on catching up as fast as he could, and so afraid of being left behind.
The nostalgia would have brought a smile to his face once. Now, such memories reminded him more and more of what he stood to lose. Knowing how fast things could change.
How fast they were changing…
Stillness creeping in, he swiveled to take the last few steps up to his long-awaited reprieve.
The door snapped shut behind him, and he was shrouded in quiet darkness. Sasuke wouldn't be home until late, if he was assigned his usual schedule. That meant he had at least a few more hours to himself.
A hand carefully felt along the face of the lantern next to him, and he slid one panel up. The tiniest spark of orange light ignited the wick with a gust from his mouth, and the panel fell shut. The entryway warmed in modest light, but it was all he needed to remove his sandals and nudge them out of the way.
His clothes had been damp for hours. Brined in sweat and slow to dry in the cool humid air. Feet thumping softly along the floorboards, his utility belt dropped with an unceremonious thunk halfway down the hall. Sasuke could avoid tripping over that one…probably…but he'd pick it up before he got home anyway. He managed to pull one sleeve of his robe down his shoulder before a loud barrage of knocks froze him mid-step.
He scowled into shadows before him. A selfish voice in his head suggesting he ignore whoever was at the door, but he wouldn't. He never did. Even if he wanted to, it was obvious someone was home with that light on, and they probably watched him enter anyway.
With a short hiss of fabric, he tugged his sleeve back up as he turned around. A bath would have to wait.
The small flame illuminated the woman's face enough for him to recognize her. Igniting the dull, half-lidded stare into shock as soon as he reopened his front door. He lost his voice for a moment, but she didn't allow herself the chance to notice. What would have easily become awkward silence was filled with a rushed string of apologies for disturbing him the moment she laid eyes on his bare feet.
Feet, because she refused to look up at his face. That in itself spoke for her true feelings conspicuously enough. Hands clasped in front of her, she kept her chin tilted down to the ground.
"I'm so sorry, Itachi. I know it's late, and didn't want to bother you, but I wasn't sure what else to do. There aren't many people I trust enough to come to for something like this, but from what I've been hearing, you might have a more sympathetic view–"
"What happened?" He cut her off. Eager to dive straight into the problem, whatever it was.
Nevermind the elephant in the room. The fact that she had been avoiding him for almost a year could wait. What was a few more minutes or hours or days, at this point? She left the writing on the wall for him long ago, and he was observant and intuitive enough to understand the only thing she wanted from him anymore was space–and he didn't blame her. Not after what he did. So, space was freely given.
Needless to say, if she was banging on his door now, it had to be for a life or death emergency. Given the entire village was gossiping about the most recent incident with the Senju she had taken under her wing, he immediately sensed this had something to do with Sakura.
There was a slight hesitation before she answered. Taken aback by such swift acceptance, when he didn't even know what the problem was yet. It only confirmed that she made the right choice in coming to him, even if it was hard to stomach.
"...It's Sakura… I think…I might need your help. I don't know what you can do about it, if I'm being honest…but she's meeting with Madara right now, and I think she might have snuck a, uhm…knife in with her. I don't know what he's–"
"She's there now?" He interrupted again, eyes narrowing in thought. The initial surprise from her sudden appearance was on the way to distant memory. His mind slipped into sharp focus the same way it did when he was on a mission. All distraction faded. Nothing else mattered but the objective.
"Yes… She should be. Sasuke was escorting her there. I didn't realize she took it until after she left." Admitting that last part was embarrassing, even if it wasn't her fault. She couldn't have known Sakura would take her knife. Yet she also couldn't help but feel partly responsible somehow. Like she should have been more vigilant in avoiding such a burden for all three of them.
"I know it's asking a lot. Like I said, I really don't know what you can do, either…but…I thought if anyone could help diffuse the situation, it would be you." If there even was a situation to diffuse. Izumi didn't have a clue what was going on, but she wasn't about to sit at home and twiddle her thumbs if there was even a shadow of a doubt. She could handle the temporary inconvenience of a false alarm, but not the lifetime of guilt if she failed to act when it mattered most.
No interruption this time. He was silent long enough that she dared a brief glance up, only to find his eyes closed. Orange light flickered over traces of smoke and dirt that touched his cheeks. The hair framing his face was stringy with old sweat and dew. He both looked and smelled like he'd been setting off bombs all day, and narrowly avoiding their blasts. The young boy tailing after him must have had something to do with it, which was curious. In one of the last conversations she could remember having with him, he seemed adamant that he didn't want to train children…but this wasn't the time to bring up that subject.
Aside from the slight frown, there was no emotion to read. Just a bit of tension around his eyes in concentration.
His feet moved. Slipping back into the sandals he freed himself from only minutes ago. The panel of the lantern slid up far enough for him to snuff the flame, and he stepped onto the porch next to her. Leaving his belt where it lay on the floor.
"Go home and wait for me there. I'll investigate and see what I can do." He looked at her, and she gave him a quick nod. Taking a step to the side while he shut the door behind him. Meeting his eyes was easier, now that it was so dark, but it wasn't long before she glanced away again.
"Thank you, Itachi…" She whispered, and he stepped down into the fog in silence.
Red and white painted lanterns hung every few feet from the ceiling of the wraparound porch. Uchiha crests burned within a milky sea of silver, lighting the perimeter. Water bubbled from a fountain or small waterfall nearby, but she couldn't see it from where she stood. Somewhere behind the thin walls in front of her, she could hear voices murmuring on occasion, and the muffled thumping of footsteps fading in and out. It wasn't bustling, but there was definitely more than one person inside.
Sakura felt more at peace than she anticipated, walking into the unknown. Proof that anything really was better than the endless waiting. She hoped the peace would last, though she wasn't naive enough to assume it would. If Izuna was inside, then she had a snowflake's chance in Hell.
"I wasn't there when you met Madara..." The voice startled her as the silent escort finally spoke. She glanced to Sasuke, hovering a step behind her. Until then, she vaguely wondered why he hadn't opened the door yet. It seemed he had something to say after all.
"But I heard what happened." His voice was a deep murmur. Mindful of the poor insulation surrounding them. Nothing more than some wood, plaster, and rice paper.
Sakura's inquisitive gaze sank to the floor, and she turned to face the door again.
"My advice… Keep doing what you're doing."
The encouragement surprised her, having fully accepted the criticism she assumed he was about to give. She listened quietly.
"Stay honest. Be true to yourself…but be civil. He will respect that." His hand lifted to the door as he leaned past her. Palm pressing into the wood frame.
"I hope you're right, because I don't know how else to be." She said softly, catching the corner of his eye as the door opened a crack. He paused to look at her, and she smiled. "Either way…thank you."
Nodding once, the door slid soundlessly open.
"Wait here." He instructed, stepping inside.
Smile fading the moment she was alone, she stared at a closed partition on the opposite side of the empty hall ahead. Ink painted a sprawling piece of art that crossed multiple panels in blotches. First appearing to be done in watercolor, rather than the defined and sharp lines she was used to seeing. Except, there was no color. Only blots and swipes of black that faded into pale gray as the ink spread out. The scene was so wide, it took a minute of tracing it with her eyes for it to come together.
Thick rolling clouds stretched the thin canvas. Piling and melding into each other, like a building storm in the heart of summer. Weaving through the clouds was a long, serpent-like dragon. Half-obscured by the blurring, smoky layers, and seeming to swim through the sky with the ease of a koi fish through water. She understood suddenly, even without closer inspection, that the ink was made from ashes.