The Vow of Flowers

by Annick La

To fulfill her duty, to complete the mission and please the Elders, Sakura invokes an Uchiha tradition older than the village itself. The bonds that bind them can never be broken.

19. Line 18: Forget-me-nots

Line 18: Forget-me-nots

"forgetting if, remember yes"

-'In times of Daffodils'

Line 4

-E.E Cummings

---

One hour passes without sleep, and then several more equally restlessness before Sakura gives up hope of having a peaceful night. A sullen fact that she sourly accepts by throwing the sheets off and easing out of bed.

No point in pretending anymore.

A clock on the kitchen wall ticks in tandem with her shuffling around in the dark. Sakura lets familiarity carry her to the tea kettle, thoughts absent when the gas range reeves to life. For several seconds, she has peace. She gazes into blue flames, occasionally catching her warped reflection along the angle of the metal teapot. Sakura exhales, as groggy as she is restless. The duality of the two seemingly opposing feelings doesn't slip past her, and she grunts out a laugh even as her eyes burn from sleep deprivation.

Sakura is tired and needs at least eight hours of sleep before being anywhere near fully functional. Emotions on top of feelings on top of revelations have Sakura shuttering out an exhale that says everything her words can't, and thoughts keep trying to voice.

There's still stress in her shoulders and an unconscious block that prevents her from thoroughly exploring the deepness of her exhaustion. Knowing why she can't relax lessens some helplessness and tension, brows pinched and lips thin. She massages her shoulders and the base of her neck, thankful she's always had a mind capable of compartmentalizing. Recognizing that such a thing only engages when she is backed into a corner.

The kettle whistles and cuts through early morning silence. Sakura goes through the motions of making herself something warm to drink, then leaves the kitchen for the sofa.

She doesn't bother with lights, finding ease in the shades that play on the walls and doors. Sakura curls up against the couch cushions, resting most of her weight against the back. The tea heats her hands and lap. Sakura allows her mind to morph from nothingness to scientific theories to searching for meaning in what should not have been an issue.

Why didn't he tell me sooner? Why did he wait so long…

Her lips twitch, frowning in discomfort at reasons that cross her mind. She considers first if Itachi just doesn't trust her. Currently, doesn't make sense until she takes a wider view. Their history together makes her first thought seem more plausible. I was so terrible back then. Childish and ignorant and rash and just stupid for what I did. If it's been there from the beginning, even Sakura can see why he'd try to figure it out on his own.

She bites down on the backside of her pointer finger, heart heavy with memories. I don't think I ever apologized. Even if I had, I think Itachi knew I wouldn't have been able to receive it without freaking out.

He has reasons. Sakura concedes that his justifications would have been valid. She may have been young and grieving, but those were not valid excuses for the abuse Itachi had to suffer at her hands. Irrational conspiracies and suspicions with no bases. Sakura practically gave Itachi a reason to be wry. I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't over that yet. No wonder he wanted to test the waters first. Is that what everything was? Just a test? Did we make any strides…?

She laments to herself, questioning every time Itachi held her hand, stood too close, hugged her, and joked with her. Did he know then? Was he experimenting then? Or did those things come from a place of genuine closeness?

Then there was the other day. Sakura acted on impulse, rash and stupid, and forgetful of possible consequences to herself, to him, to them. If he could understand her feelings, then Sakura wanted to give him the full extent of the trouble he put her through. She unleashed all her worries, fears, hopes, and relief on him in one hug.

Itachi said it felt nice. If he truly understood the depths of what she was trying to say, Itachi might change his admission.

Except, his cheeks were dusty pink when she pulled away. Sakura's face felt just the same. And that's what kept her up all night. I don't have a right to question him but, ugh. I want to believe that there was more than just a jutsu holding us together.

Her face warms up from more than just her drink. Sakura sips slow, savoring flavors for some reassurance or hope that everything is not hopeless. She drinks more because the implications for her are as bad as they were for Itachi. Both of them were a liability to each other. If their mission ends and Itachi does marry Honoka, Sakura will still be tethered to him. Itachi will still be bound to her.

I could live my life a hundred miles from here. Itachi will still be able to map my day simply based on how I feel. I'd never be safe enough to be myself. How far do I have to run to get away from this? From him?

Almost as sudden as her theories come, the very intrusive and wholly unhelpful thought of You don't have to leave him comes filtering through.

Sakura buries her face on the sofa, then strains her throat in a scream that never comes out. She fights back against emotions that laugh in the face of her denial. Do not go there. Don't you start painting rosy pictures that do not exist! You've done that too many times, and it never works out. Her whispered thoughts harbor more sadness than disappointment.

She tilts her face so her nose isn't buried while huffily evaluating the trajectory of her love life. Something that barely exists if she is honest. There was Sasuke. When that didn't go through, she went on maybe a handful of dates before there was Itachi. After him, there couldn't be anybody else and wouldn't be anyone until their mission was done.

Sakura scrubs a hand through her hair, abandoning her drink on the coffee table to throw herself across the sofa. Green eyes stare vacantly at the ceiling above her, the only thing separating her from the only other person in the house. She stretches out her hand, spreading her fingers wide until they fan out in all directions.

"These hands, these hands," Sakura mutters, "Everything I touch crumbles to dust or pulls itself back together. I'm everyone's hero but mine."

She curls her fingers into a fist, then brings it closer to her face. Sakura bites the inside of her cheek, covering her fist with her other hand and then laying them over her heart.

One day, I'm going to wake up and not have to question anything in my life. Everything will just be. I'll just be.

Sakura carries that wish into something like rest that's deep enough to miss the moment a blanket drapes over her shoulder. She mutters and grabs it, curling in and sinking under. Realization comes much later when the sun finally raises high enough to blind her awake. Sakura unfurls like a cat, blinking back drowsily to find a note resting against her abandoned teacup.

Itachi left early to help the construction crew. He also didn't have time to make breakfast for them, requesting she bring something for them at the Compound.

Itachi didn't have time?

It's odd for her partner to run late for anything. Sakura obliged his request, getting dressed with the full intention of finding a simple late breakfast. But she's stopped almost immediately by Minami wavering her down. Sakura's too kind to turn them down. So with a smile and greeting, she crosses the road to find several bags of food waiting for her.

"Are you sure you don't need help carrying these?" Minami's eyebrows raise with speculative concern. "I could walk with you."

"The hell you can!" Oji-san barks from behind his book, glaring at his niece. "Who's gonna work the customers if yer off galavanting in the streets?"

Sakura flinches at his gruffness, but Minami's face puffs with a retort that she snaps back just as harshly.

"You, Oji-san! You work here too."

"Too damn cold to be outside talking to people."

Minami's lips curl into a sinister smile. She places her hands on her hips, then huffs nonchalantly. "Itachi-san will have to wait forever to get the specialty tea and soup you made for him. Who knows? Maybe he's coughing as we speak."

"Minami-san," Sakura quietly chides, "That was low, don't you think?"

Oji-san almost gets off his stool at that, snapping his book closed so loud it draws the attention of the neighboring stall owner. "Sakura!"

The medical jounin squeaks and flushes, taking a cautious step back at having been addressed. "Yes…?"

The older man's fluffy eyebrows wrinkle together, and his lips crinkle just the same before he glares at her for no reason she can think of.

"Yer a shinobi, right?" he demands.

Sakura nods at him. "Of course, Oji-san."

"Can you run?"

"I can."

Oji-san scoffs, opening his book again as if she's of no importance to him anymore. Minami snorts in laughter at how obvious the old man cares about Itachi.

"You get him his food," Ojisan tells her, "Run if you gotta."

His words warm her heart, spreading upwards into a smile that hides nothing. "I'll get this to him, don't worry."

"Hmph," Ojisan grumbles, "Here that, lazy child? She's gonna run to him. You can just stay put right here."

Minami rolls her eyes but doesn't argue, turning back to Sakura with a slightly sarcastic smile. "Please let Itachi-san know Oji-san has been worried about him, and we hope these help."

Sakura nods. "He's doing much better now. I'm making sure he stays healthy enough to try that pudding fruit dessert at the festival."

The rather loud cough from behind them has both women exchanging knowing looks. Sakura departs with too much food and a smile from feeling unspoken kindness.

Both she and Itachi will benefit from the soup, which isn't what she initially went to get for them, but she isn't complaining. Both she and her partner prefer home-cooked meals over anything else. Oji-san always makes something that heals the soul. Soup is perhaps the most soothing thing she can think of.

With the Oji-san's eyes on her back, Sakura does just as he requests and runs towards where Itachi is.

At the Uchiha Compound, early blooming cherry blossoms, decorations, and signs let people know what to expect for the Haru festival. Sakura marvels at the number of bystanders loitering around the place. Months ago, the only people in sight were construction crews. Now, public interest draws crowds of people. Some watch, some pass by, all kept at bay by short barricades.

Two shinobi stand at the entrance of the gate. When they notice, let her through.

"There are so many people," Sakura mouths to herself, but a young lady beams at her.

"Shikamaru-san's been pushing the demolition. There are signs all over Konoha. Have you noticed?"

Sakura blushes because she hasn't. The times she and Itachi came, it was too early for others to be around or too late for people to linger. She missed the efforts her partner and his partner have put into this. She doesn't admit as much, smiling wider and agreeing with how exciting it will be to see the walls come down.

Inside the gates, shinobi and civilians alike hustle materials around. Sakura barely makes it past the first row of shops when Itachi walks around a corner, startling her with how different a change of clothes can make.

The construction hat, gloves, and vest over his typical attire contrast his formal or inside wear. He's carrying a box of things to another person in an orange vest. Not wanting to interrupt, she loiters a little ways back until their conversation concludes. He hands over the box and starts to remove his gloves. Itachi scans the property with a blank stare that she knows means he's paying far more attention than others may perceive. It's not quite like Sasuke's scowl. Itachi's brow doesn't knit like that, though there is the tiniest little twitch when he spots something of particular interest. He doesn't necessarily seem approachable either, eyes narrow and low, deep and dark, unwavering. From the side, his lips have the slightest downturn that draws one's gaze towards his jaw. Itachi's face is all angles, similar to that of his mother, sharp and defined with soft cheekbones and a triangle nose. There's something almost feminine about it. It only makes his expression more pronounced and fearful to others.

Sakura sees otherwise in different ways. And gets a different expression when his eyes sweep in her direction. Everything softens. The lines of his frown level out, eyes rounding just a little, just enough. His overall expression doesn't change much, but Sakura notices.

"You're early," he voices over the noise. "Did you get my note?"

Sakura laughs airly, raising the bags of food in her hands for him to see. "Oji-san made my hunt easy. I can wait until you're done."

"Do you know where the pond is?"

"Erm...no?"

"Come with me then," Itachi guides her in the right direction, taking some food from her hand in the process.

Sakura follows closely behind him, looking at the sights of things being transformed. Coming soon signs, contractors, and businessmen crowd around different venues. Some of them are more complete than others. They duck past a flapping opening soon sign that's not tied down to the front of what looks like a bakery.

Uchiha District Treats, it reads. From the window, she sees two women on different ladders with paint brushes in hand. From her vantage, it's hard to see exactly what they are doing except for a glimpse of white and red.

Another barricade separates the front of the Compound from the interior where they are still clearing some buildings and tearing down others. Temporary direction posts indicate where it is safe to walk and where shinobi are restructuring the earth to make new roads. All of it is extremely loud and busy. Sakura is surprised that Itachi still has the wherewithal to come home and cook dinner after being in such a frantic and physically demanding job.

They stop so Itachi can speak to a man. He tells him he is taking a lunch break and to find Shikamaru on the westward side of the Compound. The man glances back at her, and she waves at him. After the brief exchange, they continue toward his family home. Just beyond that, the gate ends in the open air. A small hill with steps carved into nature leads to a sparkling blue pond surrounded by green grass and forest trees. Near the water's edge, a granddaddy of a cherry blossom tree sprinkles petals on the lake below it. Itachi leads her to where he's already set up an area for them to sit on flat ground.

"Wait for a moment."

She does as she's told, getting comfortable on the blanket. Itachi discards his vest and construction hat, sitting the food down. Then walks to the pond and kneels, presumably to wash his hands and face. While she waits, Sakura removes the contents of their bag, soups, and tea with seasonal fruits.

Oji-san complains about the cold, but Sakura relishes the cool temperatures. I've never been down here before. Beyond the pond sits rows and rows of dense trees and foliage. At the edge of the grass, flowers dance with the wind. All of it is Uchiha land.

What does Itachi plan to do with that?

Sakura slides over when Itachi comes back to sit next to her. He is in the mood for a picnic.

"You don't want to eat inside?" she asks him.

Itachi shakes his head. "I would rather not."

Itachi starts on his vegetables without offering further explanation. Sakura teeters between accepting his silence or distributing it with something simple to talk about. It seems like they have a lot that should be discussed. She can take her selection of the bunch in that regard.

Honoka. Vows. Missions. Flowers. Faulty jutsu. Seriously, take your pick, girl.

Sakura stretches out her legs to catch the sun and starts with her assortment of colorful fruit. Almost laughing at just how much they tend to brush aside. Not without cause. Things have been so crazy lately, that their focus shifted from missions to simply surviving. Listening to the sound of the water in front of them and the hum of busywork behind them, Sakura reconciles their need to slow down.

Maybe silence isn't so bad?

She'd been worried. Itachi's been working through past hurts. They both just needed a minute. Sakura makes assumptions based on his hesitation to be inside that he is not in the best place. He's not in the worst mood since she's not scooping his seizing form off the ground.

A distraction, then?

Sakura rolls rice over her tongue, eyes fluttering to find the ideal distraction for both of them. Her security locates the perfect target, precious flowers dancing in the breeze along the lake's bank. Perfect!

"Sweet alyssum!" it comes out a little uncouth, somewhat silly, and out of nowhere. Sakura rolls with it. "Did I get it right?"

Itachi's voice pitches caught off guard. "Get what, exactly?"

"Under the tree, that's sweet alyssum."

He takes a moment to inspect. Lowering his voice, far-off again, "Yes. I suppose you are right."

Sakura forces a smile and upbeat mood, turning her attention towards the flora at the edge of the grass and points. "I remember it from your mom's journal. The last time we were at your house, I noticed a tone of them."

Itachi holds his blink a moment too long. "Tousan planted plenty."

Plenty is an understatement. She makes a face at his almost dismissive attitude about it. "Clearly, he found your mom extremely beautiful, or your father was fond of flattery."

Her partner exhales softly and tilts his head skyward. "He was not very expressive. Regarding affections and fondness towards my mother, my father allowed the flowers to communicate more than he ever did."

"He had a lot to say about her looks. There are rows of alyssum at your house.."

Itachi does smile this time, somewhat ironically. "Okaasan was beautiful. But my father was quite the strategist and knew the workings of courtship well."

"You make him sound more like a flirt." She expresses through her wrinkled nose.

"Not at all," Itachi corrects in smooth undertones that leave her skin covered in goosebumps. "His garden held purpose to match the seasons. Spring is a special time of year."

She tilts her head curiously at him. "Because it's the season where the most flowers bloom?"

"Something like that, yes. Spring is the time of youthful love, the start of courting for the innocent, and marriage for those who've finalized their vows. It could be somewhat discouraging for old couples who've passed that phase. Tousan was aware and planted flowers to remind my mother of why he married her. Alyssum, tulips, and peonies, just to name a few. The garden in spring retells the story of young love. As time passed, father made it clear that he found many more reasons to love her. Each season tells of a much deeper love."

That's actually really sweet. Everyone likes to be told how beautiful they are. Everyone wants to feel appreciated.

Sakura swallows sour soup and watches the cluster of sweet alyssum. Now that I think about it, Itachi is just like his dad. Rarely saying, always doing. Despite her best efforts, she does feel flustered and clears her throat to stay focused.

"That's all you, I think," she divulges, "Lots of action."

Itachi's breathy chuckle and the loose grin that plays along his lips rival the sunshine. Sakura has the deep urge to bottle it up and keep it forever.

"You think so?" he muses aloud. "Perhaps I am like him...?"

He hums, more to himself than her. Shades darken the lines under his eyes, and Sakura struggles to keep him smiling.

"Well," Sakura asserts, "You did say my job would be to interpret the garden once I'm ready. I'm sure I can do it now. It would be interesting to see how things change over time."

"I think so too. You've done well with learning about my family's history."

She doesn't miss the lack of eye contact even when he speaks this time. He observes the sky with a faraway gaze and fixed expression defining his features.

She pulls her knees in, focusing on the beautiful pond and cherry blossoms in front of them. Kakashi told her to be there and to stay. Sakura hunches her shoulder, shrinking until her chin rests on her knees. Easier said than done.

Itachi's doing his best statue impression now, physically and emotionally. She isn't the aptest at chiseling away at the marble. To be fair, she isn't giving all she can. Hesitant about how their connection may interfere with her thoughts, Sakura knows she's withholding a lot.

She supposes being so understood and never having to voice her emotional needs could be good. In any other context, perhaps. Right now, her finger twitches and her stomach warms at the thought of Itachi acting on her will without words. It's so intimate and personal and ungodly close.

The connection between them isn't quite like the bond between the jutsu castor and subject but close. Sakura can't control Itachi in the sense of physically making him do stuff. He has free will to use his own conscious. But she affects him with her thoughts and desires.

If I mentally ask, will he listen?

Sakura's train of thought sounds horribly like manipulation. I'm doing it again. Shit!

Itachi promised not to misuse their bond. The least she can do is return the favor. I need some space.

Sakura uncurls herself and peeks at Itachi. She huffs, giving up and standing up. "I'm going to the water. I won't be far."

Kakashi told her to stay, not to be in Itachi's personal space all the time. She will give him space, and herself for that matter. Sakura makes it off the blanket and into the grass before Itachi catches her by the wrist in a grip so gentle it barely halts her movement.

Her legs stop moving, her heart soaring, eyes wide. When Itachi tightens his hold a little, she turns her head.

"What is it?" Sakura whispers.

"I'm sorry, Sakura. I know that you want…."

"It's not about what I want," she sourly cuts him off. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. It's about you and your want and your need. I shouldn't have pushed you."

"That's not true. Your wants are important."

Sakura has a crisis of loyalty between her thoughts and Itachi's intentions. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

"Itachi," she shifts her weight awkwardly, "You don't have to worry about me right now. I'm a million freaking miles away with a million different thoughts. Trust me, focus on you right now."

A noise that sounds suspiciously like the snacking of teeth leaves her speechless. Itachi tugs her wrist, staring behind her at something in the distance.

"I don't have to, but I do worry. When your moods change, I can feel it as my own." Gray eyes, deep as night, guarded but gazing, move down to look at her. "All one million of your thoughts pass by me too."

Right. Itachi not only senses her change in mood, he feels them. Touch makes the sensation stronger. She looks down at the fingers loosely circled her wrist, easy to maneuver out of with minimal effort. As if he's trying to minimize their contact.

Sakura purses her lips and contritely dares to ask. "Did I hurt you?"

"Before or after you stood?"

"Both?"

"No. I wasn't particularly hurt in the beginning. Distracted but not hurt." Itachi explains, "Afterwards, you withdrew."

"Oh," Sakura isn't sure what that means and waits for an explanation that doesn't come until she prompts it. "Is that bad?"

Itachi lifts one shoulder. "Only you can answer that. Are you in a bad mood?"

Kind of. "I'm…not sure what I'm supposed to do."

"Then don't do anything." Itachi reasons.

"Is that what you want? For me to do nothing and leave you alone?"

Itachi's eyes widen slightly with the realization of her requests. Sakura's sure that his fingers clench, briefly, round her wrist. "I'm also not sure."

Well, that's not what she was expecting. She snorts out a laugh that carries more hurt than happiness.

"We're both just fumbling around in the dark? Perfect." Sakura does try moving away this time.

Unsurprisingly, Itachi lets her go. She watches the water before he can see her frown. Even if he can feel it, Sakura's expressions are hers to keep.

"I have a theory about our bond," Sakura says slowly, changing the topic on purpose, "I think I know what could be happening with us."

Even saying so makes her chest flutter a bit. Us. Them. It means nothing in reality, but it still makes her shift unconsciously. Specifically, her partner doesn't even know if he wants her around.

"What are your theories?" Itachi quietly inquires.

"Three possibilities," Sakura lists them off one finger at a time. "One, the materials at the start of the jutsu corrupted the whole. Two, the release at the end of the jutsu was substandard and incomplete. Three, the Shinigami is playing games with us because we tried to trick it. If it's the first two, we might get around it. If it's the last one, I'm not sure of any solution that wouldn't involve Orochimaru."

"I would prefer not to get Orochimaru involved."

"Then, let's hope Shishou and Kakashi will understand enough to give us the hand signs to release you."

"When do you want to inform them?"

"I haven't decided," she confesses, turning back to find a worryingly blank expression on Itachi's face. "Are you concerned about something else?"

Her partner's lips barely parted wide enough for a puff of air to get through. Itachi's emotionally repressed expression suddenly becomes quite sullen. She sees before his hair falls over his face that Itachi grimaces.

Sakura tries to keep her reaction neutral, not wanting to influence his confidence in sharing. She does take measured steps in his direction that, thankfully, are not rebuffed.

"When you first reported me seeing Shisui and Izumi, Tsunade-sama theorized some hidden part of me wished to remain dead. Because of the materials used, the jutsu may not have been able to overcome my will. With your theory, I think it would be more accurate to say some part of me resisted being fully alive." Itachi pauses, taking a breath. "If you are correct and the last that needs to happen is the release seals, then everything will be over. I will be fully here."

Sakura's thoughts fill in the gap of words left unsaid. Itachi isn't talking about her or the mission or Honoka or Kakashi. If they release his seals, Itachi is no longer attached to death. He'd lose them all over again. No Shisui. No Izumi. No more connection to his family.

Reason says this is the best course of action. But compassion softens Sakura's disposition. She pities him. Years upon years and all Itachi's been given is one impossible choice after another.

"Are you prepared for that?" Sakura inquiries.

The silence stretches on. Sakura holds still until Itachi's shoulders sag. His voice just barely carries over the breeze.

Itachi slowly shakes his head. "Would you fault me for being hesitant?"

It's more of his soul than she thought she'd ever get. Sakura's eyes glisten and glaze over. She blinks and blinks until those tears disappear. That same desire to hide him from hardship drives her feet to step into his personal space. How do I say I never want you to feel like this again without being demeaning?

"Please don't say that," Sakura searches for his eyes. When she doesn't see them, she lays a tentative hand on his cheek to get Itachi's attention. "I couldn't fault you for not wanting to let them go. How could I? If I or any other shinobi had the chance to see our friends again, we'd hold on to them for as long as we could."

"You shouldn't be so generous," Itachi mumbles.

"Why not?"

"There are consequences for you as well."

Sakura knows that. She knows there's a chance she will be under Itachi's spell for the rest of her life. But her silly little whims make her snort softly at the insinuation he makes.

"So?" she intones, "Does it matter if I'm willing to take on the consequences?"

It's Itachi's turn to snort. And with it follows the gentlest pressure on her wrist. Sakura actually forgot that he let go until he held her tighter.

"You'd endure even more consequences?"

She furrows her brows at him. "That depends. Are you saying no forever?"

"Not if it makes you uncomfortable like this." With earnestness, Itachi makes a humble request. "Give me time to say goodbye to them."

"I was going to do that anyway. That's my whole point. You don't always have to be the one making the sacrifices."

Itachi offers her a guarded stare. "I would have let them go eventually, Sakura."

"It doesn't have to be now!"

"Why not?"

"Because, you…" she doesn't know how to explain.

"Do you feel guilty?" Itachi gently inquires.

Thrice caught by the very thing they're speaking of, Sakura considers feigning ignorance. How could she when he is looking at her, finally looking at her? Itachi's right there, and it's like she's seeing him for the first time. Tragically beautiful. Tragically withdraw. Tragically sacrificial. It's only recently that she truly comprehends the way he carries the burdens of everyone. For years and years, he's lived like this. The lamb for the slaughter. Sakura isn't sure if Itachi is capable of living just for him. God, she wants…she just wants to…

"Sakura?"

"You've lost a lot already," she asserts, pleading and sympathetic, "Even if you won't say it bothers you out loud. I don't need a jutsu to read your lack of expression. I can wait."

Itachi turns away. "Your chakra says otherwise."

"My chakra will say a lot of things," Sakura huffily tells him, "I'm always thinking of something for one reason or another. People can have conflicting emotions all the time. My feelings about your ghost haven't changed at all. I don't like that you see them. It's not normal. But we know why you see them now. I can tolerate them being around a little longer if that's what you need."

When Itachi opens his mouth to speak again, Sakura pinches his cheeks with her thumb and four fingers until his lips buckle together.

"Don't you say another word, Uchiha," she warns, "I said what I said, and that's it. We'll talk to Kakashi and Shishou later."

He doesn't react to her tone, keeping that unyielding and frustratingly blank expression. In the quiet, with the sound of faint voices from the construction site behind them, Sakura realizes their lack of distance. When did he move closer? Or did I move? That sends her heartbeat spiraling, and she drops her hand guiltily. Itachi's brows twitch ever so slightly in response. Deep down, Sakura knows he's reading her chakra, using the bond as she intended but better.

Oh god.

"I, um, don't…" she can't come up with words fast enough to cover her flustering imagination. "Just don't be rash, Itachi, okay? We can…we can work something out."

Itachi says absolutely nothing, standing perfectly still and staring at her with an unreadable expression. Each second has her dying inside because the more he watches, the redder her face gets. The less her thought makes sense. She's only a few more awkward seconds away from exiting the situation altogether when both shinobi are alerted to a presence.

Sakura thanks her lucky stars and contemplates several rewards for her unintentional savior.

"Duty calls!" she beams and scurries towards their picnic area.

Itachi finally turns his head to investigate. While he talks business with the construction worker, Sakura makes herself busy packing away their things. In the process, she reassures her conscious that the only point of skin-to-skin contact between them is not tingling.

---

It takes two days to finalize the transfer of the official Uchiha home and several surrounding structures to Konoha for public use. At a makeshift meeting table in the middle of an otherwise empty office, Itachi adds his initials to the last document and then seals the contract in blood.

"A pleasure doing business with you gentlemen. And Milady, of course." the city planner beams, "I swear to ensure this place is well taken care of when construction time comes. Don't you worry, Uchiha-san, not a touch of space will be wasted, nor a trifle of disrespect added."

"I appreciate your attention to detail."

"Nonsense! I'm old enough to have remembered your father when he served as chief of the police force. I owe a great many good conversations to that man. It would do me honor to serve in this capacity as he once served all of us."

Sakura gasps in mild surprise. "A great conversationalist? An Uchiha?"

The older man offers her a cheeky wink. "Don't let his son fool you into a false view of him. Fugaku was a reserved man…but an amicable drunk. He could spin a tale better than Jiraya-sama."

"That I find hard to believe! No one could better stories or more inappropriate ones." Sakura laughs.

Itachi rolls his eyes. "Don't exaggerate."

The village planner laughs, slapping the table in merriment. "A many good things can be learned over sake. Perhaps one day you would join me in a meeting between men, Uchiha-san?"

"Perhaps." Itachi concedes, standing up from the table. "If Shikamaru is invited."

The brunette perks up from the piles of paperwork in front of him. "No, thanks."

"Aw, c'mon!" the old man complains.

"I have enough of that to deal with at ho–"

Before the words can properly form, the door to Fugaku's former office fling open.

"This is a kidnapping!" Ino's voice shuts everyone up, except for that of her equally blonde accomplice.

"More like a usurping of power," Temari wields, pushing past Ino to direct her request at her husband. "We're taking Sakura."

"Excuse me?" the young medic asks.

"You heard Temari," the predatory gleam in Ino's blue eyes spells nothing but devilish mischief. She flips her hair in a way that most would mistake for flirting. Itachi discerns that it's more of a persuasion tactic than anything else."We'd prefer a peaceful transfer of power, but I am willing to battle if we have to."

Shikamaru's already on his feet by Itachi's side against the women. A sigh in his throat and a hand on his hip. "You asked if you could come after we were finished."

Did they prearrange this? It explains why his friend takes an even more leisurely approach to the interruption. Itachi's eyes slide toward Sakura, noting the frazzled nature of her chakra and the utter shock keeping her eyes wide. She was unaware as well.

"I thought you would wait outside the gate." Itachi turns his attention back to Shikamaru glaring at the women.

Temari's smile turns sickeningly sweet. "Aren't the documents all signed, dear?"

"Were you standing at the door?"

"In good reconnaissance, a woman never tells her secrets." Ino asserts.

"Where's your son?" Shikamaru quips.

"All the kids are accounted for," Ino retorts, "They are in the tender care of my lover."

Sakura rolls her eyes. Shikamaru groans. Temari dares him to argue.

"You left Shikadai with Sai?"

"And Naruto and Boruto," Temari corrects.

Sakura gets to her feet, "Naruto's here?"

Ino tries to crowd into her space, but Sakura backs into the table, taking a sidestep behind him. Hiding?

Ino notices, unsurprisingly considering her rank and their relationship. Itachi knows that, taking subtle steps backward until Sakura's hand brushes his elbow.

"See!" Proof!" Ino accuses, "You didn't even realize your second best friend was back in town. I'd say that's all the evidence we need for this kidnapping. And, fix your face, Forehead. I know you don't have anything to wear to the Haru festival."

All of the attention turns to the medic standing just behind Itachi. She flushes but stands her ground, teeth clenched as she raises to the challenge.

"I have plenty of yukata!"

"Yes, yes, but this is a special occasion. Don't you want to wear something befitting of honoring your husband's hard work?" Ino winks mischievously at him, "I know you. You are the queen of overwork. If I asked, I bet Itachi would confirm what you've been doing for the past few weeks."

Sakura's aura goes through several intriguing waves, sensations skirting along his skin. He turns to check on her. Sure enough, guilt clouds her features. She bites her bottom lip, looking away. Ino is right. Sakura has done nothing but work this entire time. When she grimaces, Itachi acts. He moves to stand directly in front of her, blocking everyone else's view so that Sakura only sees him.

Lowering his voice, he leans for her to hear. "Do you want to go?"

Her eyes take inventory of the room while she vaguely gestures to the documents on the table. In equally low tones, she asks. "What about all this?"

"Most of it is done."

"We still need to do the festival stuff, right? Or was all that finalized at the other meeting?"

"There is that. If you choose to go, Shikamaru will help with whatever remains," he points at the man who is definitely hiding behind documents.

Sakura's frown relaxes a little bit. She glances over his shoulder with a longsuffering sigh and places her hands on her hips. Her best friend huffs impatiently. Temari clears her throat.

"She's just going to keep pushing. Ino won't take no for an answer."

"Ino can wait for whatever answer you want to give her," Itachi smoothly counters. "For now, talk to me."

It's simple words, a simple truth, but Sakura's stunned reaction makes him slightly nervous. Her green eyes spark with surprise. Whether from his words, the concept of the words, or the fact he said it, Itachi doesn't know why she looks at him that way. Only that she's staring at him for a few heartbeats. The tips of her ears blush as pink as her hair. Sakura watches until she can't anymore, looking at the ground, their guest, and everything else except for him. She laughs a little, a gentle smile that creeps on her face.

"Okay." It's the quiet confidence that catches him off guard.

Sakura doesn't give him a moment to recover, deciding in the next moment. After a word with his project partner, the young woman pulls him away from the prying eyes of her best friend.

"I won't be gone long," she reassures him, "Maybe an hour two at the most."

"Take your time." Itachi insists.

She squirms a little, glancing at the space around them. Her green eyes linger near the engawa doors. Itachi tracks her line of sight while mentally mapping the muted notes of her thoughts.

"If you guys finish early, maybe you can visit Daichi-chan? Reward yourself with some dango."

Her side profile spells quiet concern, and the fixed line in her jaw gives everything away. Underneath her statement is an expectancy to take the bait.

"I haven't seen Daichi in some time…" Itachi whispers.

Sakura's reaction is as he expects, bright and hopeful. "You'd go to the tea shop?"

"Perhaps. After signing papers."

When she smiles, her relief brightens the atmosphere around her. "I'm sure she'll have something to spoil you with."

Itachi huffs at her. "She doesn't spoil me."

"Oh, please," Sakura teases with a casual bump to his hip. "If Daichi could keep you in there to try a new dango recipe every week, she would. And you'd stay."

"A mutual agreement."

"Spoiled."

Itachi gives in, surprised at how her pleasant mood lightens his attitude. The way that easy smile steals his words.

"Try not to eat too much dango," Sakura jokes. "Or least have some proper food first."

"Sakura, come on!" Ino's voice carries even from around the corner. "It's not like you two can't flirt and make out later. We have to stop by your house to change."

"S-shut up, Ino Pig!" Sakura hides her face from his view so he can't decipher what she's thinking. Her hands slip behind her back, and she rocks to the side, away from him.

"I'll just, um," Sakura coughs. Itachi catches a glimpse of red on her ears. "I'll see you at home."

She's off before he can say anything. He watches a trail of subtle sensations in her wake. The same as the day before, tasting of happiness with the undercurrent of something else. Sakura's berating Ino all the way out of the door. Itachi stays where he is until her voice disappears. When Shikamaru comes grumbling from around the corner, the Uchiha finds himself blinking several times. It escaped his notice that he'd been staring at where Sakura last stood.

"Ready?" Shikamaru asks.

Itachi pulls his eyes away, realizing he'd been listening. Not to Sakura's voice but the low hum of chakra even from a distance.

Itachi shakes his head to concentrate better. "Should we go to the Hokage Tower?"

Shikamaru nods, "Kakashi's waiting for us."

"Hnn."

"Sorry about Ino, by the way. I couldn't stop her from barging in."

"It's fine. Sakura deserves a break."

"I think we all do after this. You included."

Itachi agrees.

They step out into the open air, and a lock secures the entrance from intruders. Itachi grips the key tight in his palm, taking a step back to take in the site.

There's a finite but bittersweet pull gnawing at his soul. Itachi doesn't fight it and equally doesn't show it. Not here, at least. Not now.

Shikamaru doesn't rush him. The crew that moved his boxes stand far enough out of sight that he can't see them. Itachi catches the scent of greenery and pans his gaze towards the rows of ferns.

He sees his mother and father, and brother.

If he could, Itachi would have allowed himself to cry right then. A tight coil of self-restraint keeps from dwelling any longer. He exhales slowly, pivots, then turns away. Catching Shikamaru watching the wall, the same wall that holds the imprint of his kunai.

"Can you smell that?" Itachi questions.

Shikamaru throws him a dubious glance. "What does it smell like?"

"Ferns."

Shikamaru doesn't comment after that, only following after him towards their final destination.

Itachi does take a moment to pass by the tea house. Daichi is overjoyed to see him. He stays there for several hours, noting with amusement that Sakura's 'two hours' came and went about an hour and a half ago. He doesn't fault her or Ino for enjoying themselves.

"Take some to Sakura-san," Daichi insist, handing over a small white box once Itachi pays his bill.

He takes the box with gratitude, promising to pass the desserts along. Sakura still isn't home by the time he makes it. But Itachi can tell she's in quite the jovial mood. As such, he ensures some pills and water are at the ready, assuming her delay may be due to time spent at the bar. Then he dons his cloak and leaves to find solace among graves.

Halfway toward the cemetery, Itachi registers the presence of another. He walks on, vigilant of his surroundings for half a second before realizing that the chakra signature isn't around him but at the place he's headed.

So late at night?

The beech tree illusion fades away, and starlight and small lanterns provide a gentle glow over the rows of headstones. Under Sasuke's tree, Naruto crouches down with a bundle hugged in his arms. Itachi hesitates, assuming Naruto is still with Sakura and Ino. It is late, and he supposes the blond may wish to spend time with his family. The Uchiha takes a delicate step back, not wanting to intrude on the moment. I will come back.

Before he can turn away, Naruto spots him. A remorseful smile and chuckle follow as the man clutches the sleeping boy in his arms.

"Didn't think anyone would be here tonight," Naruto admits. "I thought you would've already been at home."

"Please continue," Itachi insist, bowing slightly and stepping back from the scene. "I can come back another time."

"No, no, don't go," Naruto voices, standing up and adjusting Boruto in his arms. "I wasn't really doing much. Just giving Sasuke an update about things he's missed before heading home."

Itachi still keeps his distance, judging that the moment isn't his to pursue. Naruto invites him in any way.

"I couldn't remember the last time Boruto came here," he admits, rubbing soothing circles against Boruto's back. "Maybe when he was first born? Things have been so busy…I just forgot."

Not even the lantern lights obscure the gradually dying glow in Naruto's blue eyes. They cloud over, and his smile wanes. He massages Boruto's back more, rocking from side to side as he stares blankly at the grave. Itachi can sympathize with his expression, having decided to come here for answers to his life dilemma about moving forward.

"I'm sure Sasuke is happy simply because you came." Itachi proposes some shallow form of comfort.

"You think so?"

"There's a possibility, yes."

Naruto's affirming grunt is short and curt, lacking the usual zeal the blond is known for. "Or he might complain about me being late and saying something about how he wouldn't have forgotten. Sasuke was always trying to one-up me."

"Sakura told me as much."

"Yeah?" Naruto lifts his head to look in Itachi's direction. "She should know, as many times as she's knocked the both of us upside the head for arguing or being too loud."

"I don't think the competitiveness between the two of you would have ever ceased."

Naruto laughs for real this time, eyes squinting with a guilty grin. "Probably not. I think we could always find something to challenge each other with. Maybe who had the most kids? Bigger house? More grandchildren?"

"Daily challenges would be a must," Itachi adds.

"Sakura would be keeping score."

Itachi tries to picture Sakura being patient after the stories he's heard. "She'd grow tired of both of your antics rather quickly and tell the both of you to keep track of your scores."

"Oh yeah," Naruto's agreement comes out as a surprised but sullen realization. The blond turns his attention back to the grave. "...I guess she would."

When Naruto's brows crumble into a frown again, Itachi does step forward this time. He gets right next to him, side by side, to face Sasuke. There's comfortable silence, at least for him. Itachi can go on without saying anything else at all. But after a few quiet minutes, Naruto starts to fidget.

Dark grey eyes shift patiently to the right. The young man keeps rocking, pushing Boruto higher up against his shoulder and sighing. Loudly. Itachi doubts he's even cognizant of his jittery movements and absently wonders how Sakura would soothe her crestfallen friend. It's apparent to him that Naruto's absence as of late, though unavoidable, appears to be weighing on his conscious. Whatever news he thinks the younger Uchiha was due should have arrived a while ago. More than that, and Itachi wages a guess at this, the guilt of moving ahead in life is the bigger issue.

Armed with a theory, he gently presses for answers. "Is something the matter, Naruto?"

A regretful laugh, then a heavy pause, and Naruto carries his son tighter. "Not really. I guess I'm just in shock. I remember when I came here every day. Then a few days a week. When I had big news, little news. Things have been moving so fast that I'd forgotten to stop by. When I'm not learning about Hokage stuff, I'm doing Hokage stuff or traveling to different villages, or just at home with Hinata and Boruto. Then it dawned on me that Sasuke's missed months of my life with no updates. I compare that to someone like Kakashi-sensei visiting the memorial stone for years, and I feel wrong."

I see.

"It's easy to make that comparison in theory. However, you are not Kakashi," Itachi asserts in kind tones, "Your situations are not the same. You have a family and responsibilities."

"That's true. It just sucks because there are these moments I wish Sasuke could be here for. Like my eventual Hokage ceremony. Or Sakura being prompted to Head of Medicine at the hospital. The way Konoha is changing. Hinata almost being due to give birth. Things like that ." Naruto pauses, then murmurs. "Or sometimes I think how cool it would have been to have our children be friends, rivals, or whatever. Knowing him, he'd try to be the 'cool' Uncle. I bet Boruto would have loved Sasuke and admired him just because it's Sasuke. Maybe they'd have a close bond, something like Iruka-sensei and me. Sometimes I wish things were different if only to make those kinds of memories."

Itachi reaches out a hand and lays it gingerly on Boruto's tussle of blond hair. "Me too. Sometimes wishing is all we can do. After that, things keep moving."

"Are you here to wish too?"

"Not tonight, but I have many times," Itachi confesses. "Like you, I wanted to tell them about what's happened at our former home. Everything is cleared. From this point, it is no longer a home for us."

Naruto casts him a sympathetic glance. "Everything's done?"

"Yes."

"Wow." he smiles a little, "Feels like you guys just started. It's already Spring."

"Time doesn't wait for us. We are the ones trying to keep up."

"Keh. For better or worse, I suppose."

For better or for worse, Itachi mentally agrees. Sadness hangs over him, bringing grief and pain with a regret that laces his soul. Itachi also takes solace in Boruto's innocence, absently rubbing the sleeping child's head.

"Indeed," he whispers.

He doesn't offer anything else. And he and Naruto watch Sasuke's grave marker with similar expressions, hopes, and wishes.

When Itachi leaves the cemetery, Sakura's sprawled out on their bed, still in her evening clothes and sake lingering in the air. Itachi moves around the legs dangling off the edge of the bed and turns on the side lamp. This can't be comfortable. And is severely impractical for them to share the bed. Itachi considers the best way to wake his sleeping wife without startling her and settles on the lightest brush of knuckles against alcohol-flushed cheeks. Without even opening her eyes, Sakura reaches for him. Itachi stays until her fingers find the front of his shirt.

"Itachi?"

He bends closer, making himself easy to reach. "Yes."

Her fingers twist and tug him into her personal space. Sakura peers at him through her pink lashes, cross-eyed and dozy. She is not fully awake. A sense of deja vu calls his awareness to delicate tendrils unfettered by rational thoughts, clouded with sleep but conscious enough to find him in the dark.

Itachi picks up on the similarities to the first genuine introduction to their bond. That something that caught him by surprise in the early morning after his surgery. Too tender to touch or turn away from. Once again, it freezes him in place. He watches as she attempts to find wakefulness while equally unwilling to let him go.

"I waited," she endeavors to turn herself over and barely makes it. "You didn't come back."

"I've always come back."

Sakura grumbles at the light and then buries her face into the bedsheets. "Help me."

Itachi holds back quiet laughter. "With which part?"

"Shoes, please."

Itachi obliged, moving back and bending over to take hold of delicate ankles. He braces her foot on his thigh, then unhooks heels' straps to set her feet free. "Did you enjoy yourself at least?"

"Kind of," Sakura grumbles and climbs further into bed. "I think I drank too much."

"Perhaps," he agrees, grinning when she rubs her forehead. "I think you need to rest."

She blinks lucidly at him. Eyes sprinkled with something bubbling just underneath the surface. Sakura stares, and Itachi stalls. He can taste the change in her mood, embolden by sake and fueled by whatever she's thinking. Her lips parted, sucking in the air.

"One day, you won't," she frowns.

Itachi realizes with surprising clarity that that is not what he thought she would say. "Won't what?"

"Come back."

Itachi furrows his brows at her statement and repeats his earlier instruction because he doesn't know what else to say. "I think you need to rest."

Thankfully she takes him at his word, turning away from him to snuggle against the pillow. He waits to see if she will turn back again. She doesn't, so he retreats to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He opts for a hot shower instead of a bath to wash away the stresses.

Sakura's barely under the covers when he gets into bed. Her soft breathing, steady heartbeat, and warm aura–set the mood. He turns out the light at her bedside, pulling the covers above her shoulders. Itachi doesn't move away, not yet. 'One day, you won't.'

The ramblings of a sleeping drunk hardly carry merits. Sakura may well forget her words by morning. But he felt the undercurrent of regret in her words.

Itachi's shoulders sag with exhaustion. There's no point in trying to figure out what she meant. He tries to sleep instead, resting on the edge of his pillow, closer to her, just in case.

Kakashi drags him away in the morning with a letter tucked under Pakkun's collar. Itachi's reluctant to leave a hungover Sakura at home alone, but he does. He leaves a note indicating where he's going just in case she's looking for him.

Itachi steps out into the crisp spring air, noting the budding blooms of the trees surrounding their neighborhood. He's walked this path many times, taking the longest route to the Hokage Tower whenever there's no rush.

This is the first time those sharing the street with him offer looks of intrigue and acceptance. Even though he keeps his eyes ahead, thoughts concentrated on the steady pulse of Sakura's sleepy existence, Itachi still catches their eyes. The people watch and wave instead of moving out of his way because they suspect him.

"Nervous?" Pakkun asks jokingly, but Itachi wonders if that's what it is.

"More uncomfortable, I suppose," he admits. "These people are excited."

"Exciting things are happening."

"I wonder about that."

"Jeez, don't be so thrilled about it."

Itachi chuckles softly, knowing the summons couldn't possibly understand. Tomorrow, I will lose the last remnants of the place that holds so many memories. How does one find the good in that?

That brief flicker of cynicism falters his steps. Itachi doesn't stumble because he's far too professional of a shinobi to trip over his own feet. He nearly does. It's enough to make him slow down even by a few milliseconds. Itachi's eyes show his surprise. He's never been one for cynicism. It's a foreign sensation that chills his bones.

Some deep dark place he's rarely explored. Itachi attempts to file it away and put it back until he has some time to truly process it. Turning his focus outward again, he glances down at his escort's quietness.

"Pakkun?" Itachi calls.

The dog struts, shaking his head at the man behind him. "You seemed like you were having a moment."

Itachi blinks. "I was thinking."

"Yeah, I saw. Didn't seem like something I should interrupt. You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

Almost, Itachi thinks.

In the Hokage Tower, Kakashi asks him to read over the speech he prepared for the tearing down of the walls. For Itachi, the conversation passes him by in a bit of a blur. He's there, but sometimes, his thoughts wander to that dark place. Every time it happens, he pulls back from the brink.

"I can do it," Itachi informs him, tucking the folded piece of paper into his pocket.

Although Kakashi seems reluctant to let him leave, Itachi excuses himself anyway because he needs time. It's strange. Such notions typically pass, but Itachi takes extra steps to understand why he's suddenly feeling out of sorts.

Tomorrow, I will lose everything.

The truth is that he's lost it all already. Itachi wanders the Village with a dull ache burrowed deep into his chest.

Tomorrow, I will lose everything.

Peoples pass him by with no clue. They have no idea what it took to make sure they could live. What he gave, why he gave, and what he will continue to give up. He doesn't despise them for it. Itachi loves Konoha and the people who also call this place home. When he'd done what he did, everything and everyone seemed worth it. Sacrifice one to save many.

Would I still feel this if I'd lived back then? His fingers tap against his leg, and Itachi mentally confesses that he doesn't know. The possibility exists that he may have felt this very same regret.

Tomorrow, I will lose everything.

He'd lost everything once. Why does it feel so hard to do it again?

While Itachi walks the streets, his mind meanders to the woman always dancing at the edge of his awareness. Sakura's awake, alert, and thinking of him. Her desires brush against that dark place and cloud his mind. Itachi grabs the invisible lifeline, feet carrying him closer and closer until he's on their street.

Sakura's coming out of the door when he gets near. Itachi's pulse spikes with panic because she's leaving.

"Oh," she smiles soft, uncertain, but content to see him. "You're back."

It takes a second for his mouth to work. Everything is heavy, even his tongue.

Itachi swallows the sudden and visceral need to keep her here. "Are you leaving?"

Sakura's eyes drift towards the road. "I'm meeting with Ino for a bit. No drinking this time, and I told her I wasn't staying out with her all night. Just an hour or two."

He nods because it's easy. After all, it keeps him from saying things he probably shouldn't. Honestly, Itachi isn't sure that he could ask her to stay. So he goes to something he knows, something easy, simple, and unrelated to his current state of mind.

"Did you have something in mind for dinner?"

His partner is already taking steps to walk away, calling over her shoulder as she passes him. "Take out. And I'll pick it up, so no worries."

Then she's gone. Itachi's alone with his thoughts once more. He goes into the house, only managing a few minutes of loitering in the kitchen before he settles on checking the back garden.

Itachi hasn't dug his fingers in the dirt in a long time. And some weeds are creeping into the flower beds, dangerously close to the hydrangea he planted months ago.

Everything he's about to do is nothing but a distraction. But Itachi goes to the closet to get gardening tools anyway. Forgoing gloves so he can feel something other than the emotions attempt to saturate his mind. He pulls and tugs and pats and digs until his fingernails stain brown and Sakura creeps open the backdoor with a plastic bag dangling from her wrist.

"How long have you been out here?" she asks.

Itachi sits back on his heels, fingers numb. "Since you left."

He isn't sure if Sakura can tell he's out of sorts. But she does come outside and sits with him while he adds the final touches to their small, quaint little garden.

When he stands, she hands him a towel. When he finishes eating, Sakura quietly cleans up after them. After he showers, she leaves his bedside lamp, offering plenty of light for him to read Kakashi's speech while she curls under the covers.

Itachi breathes, really breathes when his head hits the pillow. Without saying anything, Sakura manages to clear his mind and fill it up with her aura. At one point, everything grows cold and distant.

Then she leaves their bedroom, and Itachi fights to stay put.

She's going to leave. He thinks even though Sakura never confirms as much. Still, Itachi will have let her go.

But Sakura is not him. The farthest she goes is the couch in the living room. From their bed, he feels her turmoil. When it suddenly stops, he worries, climbing out of bed anyway, desiring some form of reassurance.

She curls herself up on the couch. While laying a blanket across her shoulders, Itachi realized he would have let her go. Then searched Konoha three times over to find her again.

In the quiet, in-between hours, he's careful to make as little noise as possible, creeping back into the living room's darkness with a shinobi's stealth. He finds an ideal spot on the floor in front of the sofa where Sakura finally manages to rest. Itachi finds her stillness consoling. It's the first time in several days, hours even, that everything around him is quiet enough for him to think of everything or absolutely nothing. Itachi starts with empty thoughts until they shift to the woman laying with her face towards him, closed eyes, and parted lips that reverb tiny snores.

There's solace in watching Sakura sleep. Itachi keeps himself from blinking too often so as not to miss nuances. It's a strange thing, he reckons. Hints of deja vu linger in his soul, hanging by several invisible threads of uncertainties. Itachi wonders if, up until this point, he's made wise decisions.

He exhales, ruminating on how life has been determined by actions mitigated by him. That single-minded determination to fulfill promises and reach goals.

A curse.

It carries as much weight as the curse of hatred. Where Uchiha, in their vices, conclude that their way is right and the path must be followed. Join together for a cause that, whatever the outcome, must be pursued. Itachi is no less a victim of that mindset. He killed every emotion he had that night to kill every Uchiha that deserved to die, with collateral damage as an expected outcome.

Itachi flexes his fingers wide. When he sighs, it's because a single truth remains no matter how hard he wishes otherwise. No matter how deep he clings to delusion. I can't undo what's been done. They are gone from me forever.

As he thinks as such, Itachi's heart speaks of different truths. Determination doesn't make him forget, no matter how much he longs for the days of apathy. His clan may suffer from single-minded determination, but Itachi's touched possibilities. He lives with someone who views the world through emerald eyes that see beyond the confines of unspoken rules and traditions.

I envy your simplicity. Itachi admits to himself, chuckles without humor, and shakes his head.

A more sinister thought resents how she uproots his way of coping with life. Sakura is hardly ever apathetic about anything. She will not let him be. If it's not her words, then it's her chakra demanding he does something, say something, feel something. Tonight is no exception. He wants to sleep but only feels this calm when she is closer to him.

'Would this be easier on you if Sakura was not around?'

Kakashi asked him that during his latest hospital visit. At the time, he had no answer. He hardly had the mental capacity to carry on a conversation. Now that his health is stable and the truth is out there for him and Sakura to explore, Itachi knows what's true.

Would things be easier without her? Yes. Only because he'd become so used to the loneliness that he would not have known otherwise.

But Sakura is here, now.

Whether it is their weird bond from the jutsu or years of sharing each other's company, Itachi knows she makes all the difference. He is not a nomadic spy coping with the vigors of an arduous mission anymore. He is not maintaining a facade of indifference to escape suspicion.

And Itachi scoffs at the implications because he can't do such a mission anymore.

Not after this. Not after you.

No matter how he looks at it, Sakura's misery makes him uncomfortable. Her feelings are familiar. The lack thereof drove him to leave his bed in search of answers.

It would be funny if Itachi knew what to do with this discovery. He's craved all the amenities of solicitude for a long time and needs it right now. Except such matters carry a high likelihood of getting any good shinobi killed. Itachi lived most of his life renouncing anything that could render him weak because he is a good shinobi. Circumstances may have changed, but he's the one stuck in a loop of responsibilities and forgotten regrets.

He does feel safe with Sakura. And resists such safety in equal measure.

Itachi sifts, tasting metal in the air, suddenly anxious in his seat.

Across from him, Sakura sleeps with an arm haphazardly thrown above her head, resting in a fan of messy hair. Unbothered by being watched. Content enough with his presence that proximity doesn't stir her in the slightest. Just the rise and fall of the sheet when she breathes and the occasional muscle twitches.

Itachi counts when it happens, a total of twice in the time he's kept watch. She doesn't react to him the way most might expect a kunoichi should. Itachi will wager nothing will change if he gets closer.

He considers, blinking in slow contemplation. Have we gotten so close?

Curiosity motivates him. Itachi acts on impulse for the second time tonight, inching forward until his folded knees press against the bottom of the sofa. The only thing Sakura does is grumble, tilting her face away so nighttime casts shadows across her features. Itachi feels himself sigh again, sitting back on his heels with another realization. Sakura feels similarly at ease. Any shinobi worth their weight in salt would not stand to have another shinobi hovering over them as he does her. But Sakura doesn't even flinch. Instead, she burrows deeper into sleep, unconsciously drawing Itachi closer to the peaceful lull of her chakra.

Itachi could stay right here all night. Watching her and watching over her.

What would it mean to allow Sakura to do the things she wanted? To release the iron grip on his disposition that shinobi life demands?

Tell me the truth, she demanded.

Itachi's held several truths over two lifetimes, cloaking himself in bitterness behind the mask of duty. The assurances she wants are the thing that feels almost forbidden for him to have. Or, at least, that's the view he's held for years. Itachi would have continued in mental solitude if not for the cracks and fissures all over the place. The more he stares down at Sakura's face, moonlight streaking silver onto pink hair, the more cracks, and fissures split.

Itachi grabs his knees. Her chakra sweetly beckons him to let his guard down too. He grinds his teeth, fisting his pants tightly enough for fingernails to still dig into his palm.

Tomorrow, he's going back to his parent's house to finalize the removal of what remains of his memories. The thought of it constricts his breathing just enough for him to feel it. But the sensation only lasts as long as his attention shifts away from Sakura. When focuses on her, everything slows, matching the rhythm of her chakra's candace. The fetters of grief loosen enough for him to breathe again.

Unconsciously he leans in, resting his forehead against the edge of the sofa cushion as if the weight of the world forces him down. But when he's there, everything else falls away.

He hides his face from the one person asking him not to hide behind the mask anymore.

Itachi tries to resist and fails.

A hand gently smoothes over his head, melting away the residuals of stress. Itachi falls even deeper, shoulders sagging in relief. It is a wonder how such a commonplace gesture threatens to disarm him completely.

"What's wrong?" Sakura's voice is rough with sleep but soft to his ears.

Itachi's eyes slip closed when her chakra encircles and settles around tense shoulder blades.

God, he needs this. He needs all of this. Could he get closer? Could he stay?

Itachi hums, deep and low, unconsciously encouraging her to pet him even more. All five fingers soothe through his hair, and the occasional scrap of nails sends goosebumps down his neck. He yields to the sensation of her idle hand, hardly paying attention to the tiny voice whispering to him to pull back.

"Itachi?" Sakura's voice filters through the haze.

He turns his head so his cheek rests on the sofa cushion and he can see her better.

"Hm?"

"You never answered me."

"What did you ask?"

"What's wrong?" Itachi languidly blinks when she tucks hair behind his ear. "Why'd you get out of bed?"

He catches the way her brows dip low above green eyes that reflect the light. She's worried again. He knows he worries her a lot. Too much. But tonight, it's quite the opposite.

"You weren't there," Itachi admits in quiet, confessing tones. "I couldn't sleep."

For a second, she frowns and stares at something above his head. "I just needed a minute to think some things through."

"I know," he reassures her. "I didn't mean to wake you. I only wanted to check on you."

Sakura's eyes pan back to him and then down. She brushes her fingers against his ear. It takes a lot of resistance for him not to react with a request to keep going.

"It's alright. Thanks for checking up on me. Although it doesn't seem like the most comfortable position."

Itachi shrugs one of his shoulders, focusing on her fingers. "It's not terrible."

Sakura softly chuckles, then goes quiet for several intriguing seconds that carry some unspoken something that creeps along his skin. Itachi mentally sits up, digging through nuances before she reveals her thoughts to him.

"Do you want to lay here? With me?"

He stares because he considers he's heard her wrong. Sakura's not maintaining eye contact anymore. Itachi physically sits up, eyeing their moderate-sized sofa with critical eyes. "It's…not very wide."

"That's okay," Sakura's already making room for him, shifting on her side with her back to him. "We can make it work."

Itachi's at a loss for words to say verbally, although several ideas run across his mind. "Sakura…"

She talks over him. "You said touch makes it better right? So, I mean, this is good for you. Tomorrow's a big day, and we can't have you restless for that."

It's true. It's all true, but Sakura's nervous energy makes him hesitate. The sofa is dangerously small, and they would be very close, with no other place to lean or touch but each other. One part of him is anxious to join and swaddle in everything Sakura proposes. But that more restrained part sees every terrible possible scenario.

Sakura holds up the blanket for him. Itachi's pulse starts to race.

"Are you sure?" Itachi carefully inquires.

But all Sakura says is, "Get in."

Slowly, he lifts off his knees. Sakura's aura dances all over the place. And it zips across his skin in restless energy. But she keeps the blanket up and waiting. Itachi takes his time, just in case. First, he sits, then eases down to his side. Sakura tosses the cover at him without even looking. There's no space for his arms or legs. Itachi teeters on the edge of the sofa while trying to figure out what he should do.

"Sakura, I don't think…" he isn't sure if he's talking her out of it or himself at this point.

She only huffs and turns, almost knocking him off. Itachi grabs the armrest, and she grabs him by the shirt and pulls him off the edge, much closer to her. Then Sakura slides her arms around his chest, shoving one between his ribs and the sofa, then draws him into a very intimate hug. Her forehead presses right next to his heart. Itachi knows she can feel how hard it is beating. She's so close, and Itachi feels everything. The curve of her body. The softness of her skin and the tingles of chakra.

"Maybe turn over," Sakura instructs, "Like kinda lay on your back or else you're going to hit the floor."

Itachi is slow to follow her directives, letting Sakura take the lead with this so as not to supersede her limits. They wiggle around each other. She holds on tight until his back is mostly on the sofa. Sakura stretches along half of his body, using him as a bed and pillow. Then she throws one leg across his hips, and he chokes.

She laughs and snuggles in as if this is normal for them. "Sorry. I don't have anywhere else to put my leg."

"This sofa is small," Itachi points out.

"Yeah…" Sakura agrees but doesn't follow up with any other suggestion like he hoped she would.

She doesn't make any attempt at adjusting their positions. Itachi's conflicted between letting go and being vigilant of his movements. When she takes a deep breath, Itachi does the same thing.

"Does it help?" she asks.

He isn't sure what she means. "Which part?"

"Is the chakra thing working?"

It is working. Itachi focuses on the ceiling to find his thoughts on the matter. Sakura's sentiments ring loud and clear. She really does mean well. Itachi doesn't want to disappoint her, but he's mindful of their proximity. Even more conscious of the way it amplifies their bond. "I can feel your chakra, if that's what you mean." he prides himself on how even his voice sounds despite how frazzled and unbalanced his mind is.

Sakura shifts slightly, "This isn't relaxing for you, is it?"

Itachi chuckles softly. After they've already gotten into such an intimate position, she waits until now to ask how relaxed he is. But he does take time to think about her question and her actions. With her this close, it's easy to trade his uncertainties for her anxiousness. Underneath it, all is that familiar drive to ease his stresses. It's close enough to the surface, prickling, prying, pulling him.

Itachi brushes his chin against the top of her head. Sensations abound, manifesting in kaleidoscope colors. Sakura is so bright that it's hard for him to crawl back into that dark space from moments ago.

"Are you relaxed?" Itachi questions.

She shifts again, moving slightly closer. "I will be."

"Then I will be too."

---

"Hold still," Ino scolds, knuckling deep into her hair. "I can't get the swoop right if you keep fidgeting."

Sakura tries to do as she's told. Every time she stops moving for even a fraction of a second, she sees her and Itachi and that stupid sofa. All of the bad decisions she's ever made in her life pale in comparison. Itachi asked several times if she was okay. Sakura insisted and insisted. Despite Ino's protest, Sakura squirms. What the hell was I thinking?!

"Sakura!"

"Sorry. Sorry."

Her friend complains softly, adjusting the flower arrangement Sakura requested the day before. "I haven't seen you this nervous in a long time, Forehead."

Sakura passed nervous a long time ago. Right now, she's downright embarrassed and fully distressed at her inability to keep her growing affections at bay.

"We'll be late if you don't keep still!"

She doesn't care about being late. Sakura doesn't want to go to this stupid festival at all! It was only by some stroke of luck Itachi was awake and off of her in the morning. Sakura's entire body was on fire. While her hands and hair and shirt and pants were covered with the scent of Itachi's body wash. If she inhales, she can still smell him. If she closes her eyes, she can feel him. Ack! Stop thinking about it!

"I'm not nervous," she rebelliously counters, more for her than for Ino.

"Itachi's going to love it," and Ino ignores her statement, "I wish we could have found something closer to Uchiha blue. That would have completed the look. But I like the flowers. They were a nice touch. There. Go see."

The flowers in question brush against the side of Sakura's neck as she stands. She shuffles towards the mirror, the hem of her yukata limiting her ability to move more than a few steps. Her reflection leaves her throat dry. Sakura quietly gasps. Behind her, Ino preens, coming in close to stand next to her.

"See. No reason to be nervous."

Sakura rolls her eyes but shyly stares back at herself. It's not quite Uchiha blue, but the navy blue complements her pink hair, beautifully contrasted against her skin tone. Sakura gets the crazy idea that she almost belongs in these colors.

It was Ino who pushed her into getting her current design, complete with pink chrysanthemums and light blue Temari balls. While the flower on the fabric of her yukata has its meaning, it's the small cluster crowning her bun telling a much bigger story.

Purple hyacinth for his sorrow. Pink zinnias represent his longing for those lost. Violets showcase his desire to protect those he loved. Blue hyacinth declares his dedication and loyalty. Sneaky baby blue forget-me-nots carry a dual meaning for the Uchiha Clan and Sakura. And two rather presumptuous pink peonies speak of a happier future should he choose to take it.

She was careful with crafting the tale, using a language he understands. And the interpretation is left for Itachi to settle on. But Sakura carries secret hopes that he find happiness but not forget her.

Ino adds a silver comb to frame the bouquet and a touch of make-up to highlight Sakura's most striking feature: her eyes. Soft purple eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and shimmering highlights. It's been so long since she's worn any make-up that Sakura hardly recognizes herself. She turns her head and the quiet chimes of her hairclip chimes in her ears. From the side, she gets a glimpse of her bouquet selection. With it comes apprehensions and doubts that perhaps Itachi doesn't want to put his story on display.

Then Ino steps closer, folding her arms across Sakura's back. She rests her chin on her shoulders and grins. "As your best friend, it's sorta my job to tell you about yourself when things seem off."

Sakura furrows her and shifts her gaze to Ino's reflection. "What do you mean when things seem off?"

"Off. Odd. Out of the ordinary," Ino clarifies. "When you're not acting like yourself."

"Huh? You think I'm not being myself?"

"No," Ino drawls, red-painted lips curve into a victorious smirk, "I think you are being yourself. I'm honestly kinda glad that you can still be flustered. Look at you, blushing like a genin with a crush. You didn't even do this on your wedding day."

Sakura swallows hard, checking herself in the mirror again. "That day was different. I was so anxious, Ino. You wouldn't understand half of the things that went through my mind."

Her friend hums in agreement, slipping her arms around Sakura's shoulders. "Probably not. But I've seen enough to know. I know you well enough to tell."

Ino chastely pecks her cheek and lays her face right up against Sakura. "You look gorgeous. Itachi won't know what to do with himself. Trust me."

Her stomach turns with butterflies, and Sakura fidgets to push it down. She shouldn't be entertaining Ino's ideas. She and Itachi really aren't anything. All of their little encounters have reasons and explanations even if she concedes she…appreciates his attention.

Her brows wrinkle. Sakura huffs softly, leaning away from Ino. Her friend may not know the consequences of seeing their situation as anything other than necessary, but Sakura knows.

"Itachi's going to respond the way he always does." It's the first step in quelling complications.

Ino pulls back a little but doesn't let her go. "Not likely, Forehead. Have you seen the way he looks at you? All expectant and curious? He'll be blown away. Whatever this flower thing you guys have going on is just the icing on the cake."

Huh?! "You noticed?"

Ino's coquettish laugh reverbs against her collarbone. "I'm a florist. My entire livelihood hinges on using flowers to send messages. Plus, Itachi may be subtle in his approach, but you're my best friend. I think it's cute."

"Wait," Sakura turns, eyes wide with panic. Ino's already letting go and backing off. "Wait, Ino. It's not…we're not…."

"Oh please," her friend cuts her off to grab her shoes. "You think Uchiha are the only ones that use flowers?"

Actually, yes, she did. It never occurs to Sakura that other clans have their flower language. It also didn't even cross her mind that Ino would be privy to Uchiha courting traditions. Although, now that she brings it up, it makes sense. Ino is a florist, as are many in her family. Uchiha has been getting married since Konoha was founded. The Yamanaka flower shop holds just about every flower Konoha grows, both in and out of season. It isn't such a far-fetched idea that some members of the Uchiha Clan made their way through those doors in search of secret messages to give their intended.

Is that the way we seem to her?

The way her heart jumps into her throat, eyes bulging at her friend's back. When Ino disappears out of the room, Sakura scrambles to catch up with her.

"Ino!" she yells down the hall, watching the flurry of blonde hair disappear around the corner towards the living room.

"You look gorgeous, Ino." Sai's standing near their genkan with Inojin polishing off the remainder of his water.

They share a kiss that Sakura is sure her friend does on purpose so as not to answer her. "What do you think of Sakura's look?"

The young medic pulls to a stop, regarding her former teammate as he takes in her assemble.

"Very pretty. Itachi is a lucky man."

"Sakura chose the flowers, but the make-up was my idea. It's Itachi's big night. Can't have his wife looking half-assed."

"Shall we go?" Sai asks, helping his wife into her shoes. "Temari and Shikadai will be waiting for us. Sakura, are you meeting Itachi anywhere?"

"At the Compound," she tells him, walking closer to grab her zori. "I think he's with Naruto, Shikamaru, and Kakashi-sensei."

Ino uses Sai's shoulder to help her slip into her footwear. "Is Hinata with Naruto?"

Sakura shakes her head, lingering behind the family while Sai opens the front door to let them out into the open air.

"I don't think so," Sakura comments as they start walking. "I haven't had the chance to talk to her in a few days. Maybe she will be with her sister and the rest of the Hyuuga?"

Ino rolls her eyes, reaching down to take Inojin by the hand. "I wanted to sit next to her for the ceremony, but the Hyuuga are so damn protective of her that I doubt they will let anyone close."

The conversation drowns in the back of her mind as soon as the sun shines in her eyes. In the distance, Sakura hears the sound of the crowd. The savory aroma of roasted meat and festival food clings to the cheerful atmosphere. There's talk about the upcoming demonstration at the old Uchiha Compound, boundless and curious. Sakura would have enjoyed spreading the good news and affirming gossip if her nerves weren't getting the best of her. She second guesses all of her actions, trailing behind Ino and Sai to talk herself into not running away.

Was the color too forward?

Did she go too far with the flowers?

Was the make-up too much?

Did Itachi care?

Her mind is swimming, and Sakura blindly steps behind her friends, being dragged along by the current of festival goers. String lights and lanterns on every light pole pass her in a blur. Delicate fingers worry the straps of her tiny bag. A slow buzz creeps into her ears, almost as bad as her old panic attacks.

Breathe. Deep breaths, girl. She tries to follow her advice, pulling her eyes off the ground to stare at Ino's back. Just like Sai says, Ino is gorgeous. Her yukata, a creamy light blue almost matching the color of her eyes, fades elegantly into her porcelain skin. Dotted with lavender lilies and gray vines, the palette is extremely flattering. Some small part of Sakura envies how easily she does just about anything she touches. She's not trying to draw the male gaze as Ino only has eyes for Sai. But the men glance, women watch, and Sakura wonders what it would be like to exist without second thoughts and second guesses. If Ino's kind of confidence will overshadow the cowardice hanging over her shoulders.

'Have you seen the way he looks at you?'

Sakura nearly trips on her own feet. You know what, forget about everything she said!

The entrance to the festival starts right in the center of town. Most of the Village heads in the opposite direction towards the old Uchiha Compound. Shikamaru meets them not long after the group enters the square. Sakura half expects to see Itachi trailing behind. But her friend comes alone, dressed as he usually is in the signature Nara vest and black assemble underneath.

"You didn't even try," Ino accuses him, rolling her eyes at his lack of festive wear.

Shikamaru cuts his eyes to her, and Sakura's pulse speeds up a little at the way he inches in her direction.

"It would have been too much of a hassle trying to move around in traditional garb and work."

"Temari let you use that excuse?"

"I left before her. Sakura," Shikamaru takes several more steps in her direction, "Are you going to Compound? Now?"

There's urgency in his voice that sets her teeth on edge.

"I was," she says, suddenly breathless. "I am. Is everything okay?"

Shikamaru fidgets. Well, fidgets for him, which is more of a dry eye roll and tug of his ponytail. "The Hokage insists we can't start anything with you."

"Without me?" Sakura's already making a mess of things before even setting foot in the Compound. "I wasn't aware I needed to be a part of this part…."

"Neither did I. It was a sudden change in plans. Itachi is waiting for you."

Sakura stands a little dumbstruck at the statement, completely missing Shikamaru turning around and bending down.

"Oh," she takes an awkward step back, glancing at the crowd and watching their interactions. "I can walk, Shikamaru."

"It'll be quicker this way." he insists. "We need to start before the sun gets too low in the sky. Plus, Temari will complain for weeks if I don't offer. Trust me, this is better for all of us."

"If you're sure."

Shikamaru waves hands behind his back, gesturing for her to hop on. Sakura does, squeezing her eyes shut when he secures her place.

"Don't you make the perfect ferrymen carrying the princess to her prince charming?" Ino coos.

Sakura sputters for words when Shikamaru stands, a wave of vertigo making her dizzy. Or was it anxiety?

"Tell me about it," Shikamaru agrees, "Ready?"

Her fingers grip his shoulders. "I really can walk if it's too much trouble."

Shikamaru huffs out a chuckle. "Normally, these things would be troublesome. But you're surprisingly light for someone wrapped in finery and strong enough to punch down a forest. Hold on tight."

And she does, digging her fingers into the soft material of his jacket. Shikamaru takes to the rooftops with Ino screaming behind her not to mess up her hair. It's been years since she's been carried about. Sakura basks in the nostalgia of seeing the world pass by from behind. Naruto carried her plenty of times. Kakashi and Sasuke, on occasion, picked her up and out of danger.

This time I'm being carried toward it. The type of danger that won't leave physical scars but could mar emotions.

Barely a minute after finding her, Shikamaru touches down near a crowd of jounin and Kakashi standing in his official Hokage robe and hat. Sakura almost laughs at the site, forgetting her concerns to poke fun at her former teacher. He looks so…deflated and uncomfortable in all of the fanfare.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto barrels through the crowd with a smile brighter than any star. "Wow! You look amazing."

She's nearly breathless with relief, and the ground stops shaking under her feet. "Naruto! They let you behind the scenes?"

Her friend offers a cheeky grin. "Kakashi-sensei insisted I stand with you guys as the future Hokage. Says it'll show solitary or something like that."

"Sounds like he's trying to find excuses to not do this alone."

Naruto leans conspiratorially and whispers. "Between you and me, Shikamaru and Shizune wrote the speech he's giving."

Sakura snorts. "Not at all surprised at that."

"I can hear you two," Kakashi lightly accuses. "A shame Naurto's learned so much in the way of diplomacy but still can't whisper."

Naruto offers a cheeky grin, eyes squinting to mimic the man in front of them. "Who says I was trying to hide."

"Oh?" Kakashi's eyes slide her way. "Trying to make me look bad in front of Sakura, then?"

"You did that to yourself!" Naruto retorts.

"True…perhaps, I should let someone else takes the reigns for once. Maybe I've passed my prime as Hokage."

"Nice try but no thanks! I still need to pass the chunin exams!"

Kakashi physically deflates, hunching his shoulders with a furlough sigh. "Yes, yes, I suppose you're right."

Sakura laughs hard, clutching her side at her second best friend and former teacher. It's just so…them. And she finds relief in the normalcy they bring to her world. So Sakura laughs, and Kakashi crinkles his eyes while Naruto grins even harder. She swipes at merry tears, patting her cheeks with Ino's voice reminding her not to look like a mess before the people see her masterpiece. Thoroughly distracted and caught off guard. Naruto's nudge gives her a mild warning. Kakashi's gaze drifts up. Sakura blinks as he smiles behind his mask. When she turns to inspect what catches his attention, everything stops.

She's seen Itachi dressed in official Clan Head attire once before. Even then, it took her to breathe away. Black definitely is his color. Itachi carries the black over red motif throughout the whole of his attire, except the Uchiha blue haori. While Sakura will gladly take time to admire how nice his clothes compliment him, that is not the thing that has her pulse skipping beats. It's how his eyes land heavy on her, rounded and transparent as if she's the only thing tethering him to earth.

Not me. Sakura notices as Itachi stares with solemn intensity at something slightly to the right of her. The bouquet!

"Naruto…" Kakashi calls.

"Yeah," Naruto pats her shoulder. Sakura turns, trying to grab his sleeves, but Naruto slips through her fingers. Please don't leave.

Is she trying to run? Maybe. But to where and to whom, she doesn't know. The why almost makes her sway, and Sakura thoroughly delays turning back around to face Itachi in any capacity.

Come on, come on, you can do this!

She tries pumping herself up, and it works long enough for her to remember the night before. If she was prone to faintly, Sakura probably would have passed out from utter embarrassment.

"Sakura, you…" Itachi's voice is far too close. A faint touch to the back of her head holds her still. But the soft sigh over her shoulder trails shivers over her skin. "Why all this?"

It's a genuine question that Itachi is within his right to ask. Sakura tries to find her resolve, that confidence she saw in Ino.

"It seemed right considering the occasion," Sakura replies, proud that her voice sounds almost in control.

"Hm. I'm beginning to sense a pattern of behavior," Itachi remarks, and it utterly takes her by surprise.

When she turns, pink brows puckered together in confusion, she glimpses the amused light barely flickering in his eyes.

"I don't know what that means."

Itachi reaches behind her, tugging a flower free from its neighbors. "This is the third time you've assembled a bouquet because it seemed right. The second time you've paraded messages across the Village, challenging and undoing years of traditions."

Her defensives rise, an apology on her lips. Itachi tucks the peony inside his haori sleeve with a smile so soft and secret just for her.

'Have you seen the way he looks at you? All expectant and curious?'

Itachi leans in, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Thank you, Sakura. You look beautiful tonight."

Sakura is glad he can't see her face. When Itachi steps back, she turns and tucks her chin to keep her eyes on the ground. "You're welcome. And thank you too."

A hand finds hers hidden inside her yukata sleeve. "Could you wait a while longer before I reply to your request?"

Sakura blushes because that isn't what she expects him to say and quickly tries to settle the matter. "You don't have to. I was just using the flowers because we were the only ones who know what it means. It doesn't need a reply. Most of it is a statement of fact."

She is rambling. Sakura knows she is rambling, trying to downplay her efforts for the risk of rejection. Itachi's hand comes under her chin, gingerly encouraging her head high. She meets his eyes, and the light settles into something warm and welcoming.

"This is my story," he smoothly corrects, "I believe I should have a say in how it ends. Will you wait for my reply?"

Any argument to the contrary dies with sincerity in his tone. Sakura can think of no other answers but a quiet, yielding, dangerously hopeful, "Yes."

---

A/N: Oh, guys, I am TIRED! Not of this story, of course. I am in love! They are also in love, but we're getting to that. I'm tired because it's past 1 am where I live but I was DETERMINED to get this out before going to bed. This isn't even the longest chapter. That honor goes to Line 13: Edelweiss but it feels long because things happen. I'd originally wanted this chapter to end after the Haru festival. But then you guys would have been waiting another month for this installment and I felt bad!

We made it and, whew, did we make it and wait with bated breaths for our boy's reply. Line 19 will bring more clarity for both of them. My computer is at 12% so I'm going to bed!

Completely unrelated side note: I have an Ao3 account to which I'm moving stories. If you are a fan of Reckless Lives of Rulers and Rule Breakers I highly recommend going to read it there as it has an alternate more...*ahem* scandalous storyline. It had two ideas and couldn't choose, so I split the difference and put two versions in two different places!

Okay, bye!

Forget-me-nots: a promise to remember

-CeCe^^

Word Count: 16,657 (10 words shy of the last chapter!)

Musical Inspiration: 'Realize'-Colbie Caillat, 'Secret Love Song-Part II', 'Like Real People Do'-Hozier