A/N: This story has been a long time coming. I've been thinking and planning it for months now, and I've actually got a pretty good outline and quite a few chapters already written (in need of major editing, but still written), which means I can (hopefully) have a fairly consistent writing and updating schedule going. I hope you enjoy the prologue and please leave a review. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

~Prologue~

The sky looks beautiful, she thinks, even as storm clouds darken the horizon. She can hear the faint rumble of thunder in the distance and stops to stare out at the sky. It won't be long till the storm reaches the village.

Sighing, Sakura stands up and surveys the area. She's only gotten to half of the meadow, but with the storm approaching, she'll simply have to finish collecting the herbs once it passes. Grabbing her basket, she looks towards the town in the distance, trying her best to ignore the needling feeling of something in the air. Something that would change her life forever.

Brushing her strange premonitions off, Sakura begins to make her way towards the village. She should make sure the people know about the storm on its way. Though, she supposes, they probably have enough experience with them already; the Land of the Waves always has been known for its unpredictable weather.

She finds him in the middle of town square, surrounded by a throng of villagers struggling to hold him up. He's tall, she notices, tall enough that the elderly shopkeeper—who she had once thought was just about the tallest person she'd ever met—has to make the man lean down in order to support him. It's because of this that she can't see his face, covered as it is by a mop of dark, spiky hair.

But her thoughts about his appearance quickly disappear when she realizes that he's hurt. Blood drips down from his side, dark and almost purple in color. It's coming from his veins, she realizes, as she watches him clutch at his wound. He's hurt.

"Out of the way!" she exclaims, dropping her basket and shoving some of the townspeople as she races towards the injured man. The shopkeeper looks at her, relief showing on his aging features.

"Haruno-san," he says, wiping the sweat off his brow. "I found him in the woods. I think he got in a fight with those bandits that've been bothering us," he explains quickly. She's about to ask for more information on his condition when she hears a raspy chuckle.

"They weren't bandits, Ito-san," the man says darkly, and Sakura is struck by the sound of his voice. It's a deep baritone, silky and so smooth her knees feel weak. But then he winces in pain and she's all business again.

She glances up at the darkening sky. The storm clouds are closer now, and a light drizzle has started, making her hair stick to her face as she tries to see.

"Ito-san, do you think you can bring him to my cabin? With the storm on its way, I won't be able to heal him in time," she says to the shopkeeper. The injured man looks up at her, and she nearly gasps. He's beautiful. Eyes the color of midnight bore into her own, set atop an elegant nose and high cheekbones. He looks regal, and when he juts his head out a little further so she can see the sharp cut of his jaw, she nearly faints.

"You're a medic?" he asks in that swoon-worthy voice of his. She pauses, trying to stop the sudden rush of fear she feels. Because no, she isn't one. She hasn't been certified, hasn't been trained, hasn't even passed the chunin exams—hasn't even taken the chunin exams. But she can heal

So that's what she'll tell him.

"I can heal you," she says quietly. "I just need time. And in order for me to have that, we need to get you to my cabin," she explains. Sakura notices a gleam in his eyes, the recognition that she hasn't answered his question. She's afraid he's going to press, call her out on her lack of experience, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at her long and hard, onyx eyes trapping her into his stare.

"I trust you," he says, and from the look on his face, it seems like he's just as surprised as she is. The rest of the world disappears for an instant, until it is just him and her and nothing else.

"What are you waiting for?" he asks gruffly, breaking her out of his spell. Sakura looks at the shopkeeper and grabs the man's other arm, trying not to blush at the sudden close contact.

Together, they make their way to the cabin she had rented for the week, pushing through the downpour.

Sasuke rouses from his sleep, blinking away his grogginess as he tries to remember how exactly he ended up in this state.

He had been sent on a mission to escort a bridge builder back to the Land of the Waves, but ended up encountering some of Orochimaru's men. That had resulted in a battle between them and his team, and he had gotten separated from the rest of the group. Injured and nearly bleeding out, he found the village, where the people had immediately gathered around him.

And then he saw her.

She was like a breath of spring air, breezing into his life and irrevocably changing it for better or worse. He couldn't explain what he felt when he saw her—couldn't even see her properly—but something had drawn him to her.

With the shopkeeper and the woman's help, he had somehow managed to get to the cabin. The woman had immediately led him to a futon and made him lay down, wrapping him in a blanket before leaving to get supplies. He had lost consciousness after that, succumbing to the sweet call of sleep.

Now, she's kneeling in front of him, hands pressed to his forehead as she heals a cut. It feels strange, he realizes, to be healed by her. He's been healed before, and never enjoyed the experience. It had always felt intrusive, cold. But this—this is different.

It's soothing, the way she heals him. She's sitting so close he can smell her, a light floral scent that has a note of sweetness to it. Strangely, he finds that he likes it.

Opening his eyes wider, he studies her. Her long pink hair is dry now, and looks so soft that part of him wants to reach out and touch it. She's petite, about a foot shorter than him at least, and the long apron she's wearing makes her look even smaller. His gaze drifts up to her face, and his breath catches because he is looking at the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. Bright green and glittering in the light, they seem to shine with emotion, though he isn't quite sure which.

And, oddly, he wants to find out.

He hears the crash of thunder in the distance, breaking him out of his thoughts. He has a mission to complete, teammates to go back to.

Trying to pull himself up into a sitting position, he winces at the sudden pain in his side. Suddenly, her hands are pushing him back down onto the futon.

"Don't do that," she whispers gently, voice pleasant and lilting. He wishes he could listen to that voice for an eternity.

"You still need rest."

If it were anybody else, he'd probably scoff. But for some reason this woman is different. He knew that from the moment he saw her. It was why the words 'I trust you' had managed to slip out of his mouth, because—even though he had known her for all but thirty seconds—he truly did.

"Thank you," he mumbles, settling back onto the pillow. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. The Hokage's going to kill him for being late.

"Are you okay?" she asks, tone laced with concern. Sasuke looks at her, at the worry showing clearly through her verdant eyes and the downward turn of her lips, and feels a strange sort of connection. One that apparently lets him open up to this woman he barely knows.

"I'm going to be so late," he states. Her eyebrows furrow.

"Late for what?"

He sighs again.

"My mission's supposed to be over by now. I should've been back by last week."

He watches as understanding dawns her features, and doesn't miss the pink tinge her cheeks have developed during their short conversation. He smirks.

She likes him.

"You're a shinobi?" she asks.

"Hn."

He hears her giggle, and feels quite certain that it is the prettiest sound he has ever heard.

"I'll just take that as a yes, then."

"You?" he asks, looking at her eyes. She shifts nervously, and Sasuke knows she's hiding something; she did the same thing when he asked if she was a medical ninja.

"Yes," she says, biting her lower lip. The action draws Sasuke's attention to her mouth, and for a brief moment he wonders if her lips feel as soft as they look.

"I'm a genin," she whispers. "So, no, I'm not a medical ninja."

He sees the guilty look in her eyes when she refers back to his past query. Deciding that he can't stand that look on her face, Sasuke glances at her.

"You healed me."

It's an acknowledgement, she realizes. His way of telling her that her rank doesn't matter to him.

She feels a surge of warmth rise up inside her and smiles. Turning towards the window, she looks at the sky.

"The storm might clear soon," she says hopefully. The man doesn't say anything, but his eyes look hopeful too. Sakura doesn't quite know what to make of this strange connection she feels to him, this stranger.

All she knows is that her premonition was right. For better or worse, this man has somehow come into her life—and she sure as hell isn't going to be forgetting him anytime soon.

"Where are you from?" she asks, trying to bring him into a conversation again.

"Konoha."

Her eyes widen.

"I've never seen you around before," she says disbelievingly. He shrugs.

"Maybe you did, and forgot." He smirks and lets out a chuckle. "It's a big place," he adds.

She blushes at his comment and tries to calm her frantic heartbeat.

"I mean, I'm sure I would've remembered if I ever saw you around. I don't think I could ever forget you," she says quickly in an attempt to explain herself.

It's only when she turns to look at him that she realizes what she just said. Her face heats up immediately when she sees his smug expression.

"So I'm unforgettable?" he drawls, and Sakura stutters. Before she can think of a response, he speaks.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly. She blinks at him in surprise before answering.

"Sakura. Haruno Sakura."

He looks at her for a moment, dark eyes scanning her up and down and she shivers under the weight of his gaze.

"Uchiha Sasuke."

It takes her a moment to realize the gravity of what he just said—the heaviness his name carries. Uchiha.

Sakura may be civilian born and raised, but she isn't so out of touch that she doesn't know just who the Uchiha are. They are possibly the most powerful clan in all of Konoha. They're certainly the most secretive, from all that she's heard. Theirs is a clan as old as the village itself—older actually—stretching far beyond its founding.

But when she looks at him, all she sees is Sasuke, not the legacy of the Uchiha, not the honor of his rank. Yet that doesn't stop her from being polite.

"Well, Uchiha-san—"

"Sasuke," he interrupts. At her surprise, he clarifies. "Call me Sasuke."

She smiles at him.

"As I was saying," she begins pointedly, giving him a mock-glare before smiling at him.

"It's nice to meet you, Sasuke-kun."

Sakura notices his eyes soften, dark black pools melting into the corners of his eyes.

"Aa."

She knows he feels the same.

The storm clears soon after, and takes his leave. His mission needs to be completed, and he has to inform the Hokage about the developments. Orochimaru is planning something, he knows, and he'll do anything he can to stop him because the Sannin's involvement in anything usually leads to war.

Itachi hated war. And, by extension, so does Sasuke.

It's those thoughts that occupy his mind as he makes his journey back to Konoha. The woman—Sakura—told him that she needs to stay back and finish collecting medical herbs, so he must journey by himself. His teammates are probably back already, which means his blond best friend is probably driving Tsunade up the wall.

He chuckles at the thought.

Continuing on, he tries to brush all memories of the encounter with Sakura away; he can't afford distractions anymore, and now that he's healthy, he needs to focus on his goals. But a small part of him still hopes that he'll see the pink-haired woman again.

Maybe he'll ask Naruto to find her record.