Running itself was becoming an obstacle. It seemed the cobblestone underfoot was running with them, but at a faster pace. Instead of being helpful, it acted more like a rug being pulled from beneath their feet. Naruto seemed to be having the hardest time keeping his balance, but he did not let it deter him.
The ground rushed towards their destination, tearing housing and business structures along with it. Dust and rubble rained down upon everyone. Red eyes flash awake in the sudden darkness that blanketed the compound- nothing but flares of crimson and sparks of raw electricity from damaged power lines.
They moved to secure their kinsmen- to snatch an elderly man from falling rubble, grab the crying boy before a broken transponder hit the puddle he's standing in. Moving decisively to protect the children, the elderly, the weak, the vulnerable.
They had their hands full, it seemed- the three newly minted chunin were the only ones rushing towards the epicenter of this occurring disaster.
By the time they reach Sasuke's house, the ground had finally decided to settle beneath them, presenting instead as a new obstacle to the trio. It fully encompassed the Uchiha estate- a crudely made shell of cobblestone and debris.
Naruto's mouth drops open in disbelief.
"What the-!"
Sakura was in a similar state of incredulity, but hers tasted more of trepidation.
'Whoever managed to pull of a technique to this level… '
Muffled yells and echoes of connecting metal could be heard coming from within.
Sasuke lets out a roar from beside her, and she barely has time to register that he's yelling out a technique before the telltale heat of his flames are scalding the side of her face.
She recoils from him to shield herself, and when the heat dies down, all three shinobi are staring at the scorched wall in disbelief. The surface is blackened, a testament to the direct hit, but no real damage is done to its structure.
Sasuke does not hesitate- he draws a kunai before throwing himself at the spot he had previously attempted to breach, hurtling his entire weight into his attack. The kunai bounces- hard – against the surface, the force causing it to ricochet right from Sasuke's hand. But not a single stone is dislodged.
A disheartened yell erupts from Sasuke's chest. Both her and Naruto are watching him, seeing the panic in his eyes, the way they dart around, frantically searching for a way in.
Neither one of them know how to help their friend reach his family.
"It must be fortified with a coating of chakra…" Sakura supplies, knowing it will be futile to try and continue to attack it outright.
Sasuke doesn't respond- he already knows this. His sharingan can clearly discern the movement of said chakra all along the surface.
"I'll try checking the back!" Naruto supplies, giving his friend one last worried look before darting off to the right.
"Maybe…" Sakura quickly forms a few hand signs, an idea coming to mind. "If I can get under it with doton…"
Her chakra coats the ground beneath her feet at the same time Sasuke's voice dashes her hope.
"Don't bother. It's in the ground, too."
Sure enough, her chakra is abruptly blocked by a wall of foreign chakra before she could even get a foot into the ground.
A sound from within stills both chunin. It is muffled and distant- likely on the other end of the estate. But it sounds like Shisui's voice.
And it sounds like he was screaming Itachi's name in a frenzied pitch Sakura had never heard from the outgoing shinobi before.
Her eyes flick to Sasuke to see if he, too, had caught it.
The weighted heaving of his shoulders and chest in barely restrained panic indicates he had.
With another roar of fury, he launches himself once again at the wall. He realizes the futility. But he cannot stand idly by and do nothing but watch, helplessly, when his family could be dying.
Sakura feels much the same, reforming her previous handsigns and trying to push her chakra through once more. Her concentration is fixed upon on the elements of the earth within the wall. Her hope is she can pull it away, bit by tiny bit if she has to. But there is more chakra than there is earth and stone- infused as it is- making it impossible for Sakura to manipulate any part of it.
"Fuck!" Sasuke screams at the wall before him. It echoes back to them, as harmless as everything else that has been thrown at it.
A yell catches their attention, and they barely spare each other a glance before darting the direction Naruto had gone.
"Guys! Over here!"
They follow the voice until they find themselves on the other side of the estate. Naruto stands just in front of the wall, waving them over to him.
They both stop short as soon as they are close enough to see what Naruto is looking at.
It is a hole- the edges round and clean, going straight through the thick wall. The borders are encased by what looks to be fire, except it burns almost languidly. The lazy flickers more reminiscent to palms waving in a soft breeze than the violent dance of an actual flame. And it's black- darker than the night sky. Deeper than the shadows blanketing the forest of death. No smoke is produced from the flames. They feel unnatural. Otherwordly.
"Crazy, huh? What do you think it is?" Naruto askes, leaning forward with narrowed, scrutinizing eyes.
"Don't!" The shout of warning has the curious boy jolting back as if stricken.
"Don't." Sasuke continues, warning in his tone. "I'm not entirely sure, but if it's what I think it is, you do not want those flames touching you."
Naruto eyes the charcoal wisps with pointed caution.
"Well, either way, it's created a doorway to your house." All three shinobi peer into the unnatural hole. It is dark within- all light from the outside having been blocked by the sphere of rubble. But beyond the walls of the estate, fire can be seen raging just beyond- the tell-tale flicker of orange makes the structure of the home look like burnt paper in contrast.
Sasuke lurches forward, but a hand around his arm stops him short.
"What's the plan, Sasuke?" Naruto's blue eyes are a shimmer of determined focus. The blonde boy would normally forgo any plans and throw himself right into the fray- however, this was not his home, not his family, not his place. If Sasuke had a preferred way of going about this, then Naruto would gladly defer to him.
But Sasuke's eyes are erratic, still jumping from any object within sight, looking for his family.
He was in no state, mentally, to form any kind of plan. And Sakura understood. Every second wasted making a plan could be a second too late in saving someone he loved.
"Let's help wherever we can." She supplies in earnest. His dark eyes flick to her with gratitude, then to Naruto to communicate the same.
Naruto nods as his face begins to knit in concentration.
"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"
Four carbon copies of the blonde ninja burst into action alongside Team 7 as they maneuver carefully through the hole, before leaping atop the roof.
Sounds of violence and struggle can be heard from everywhere- the noises are amplified by the sphere encasing them, causing the echoes to bounce and make it difficult to pinpoint their true origin.
Without hesitation, Sasuke makes a straight shot to where the fire seems most concentrated, and Sakura follows to ensure his back is covered at a time where his laser focus could leave him open and vulnerable to attack. Naruto takes the initiative to cover the rest of the ground- Sakura's peripheral vision supplies the knowledge of two orange jumpsuits heading to the left, three to the right.
When they reached the pinnacle of the flames, Sakura's heart sinks with dismay. The large cherry blossom tree that was the centerpiece of the backyard is being consumed by fire. Flames lick viciously along its bark, blackening the wood. Any foliage it had previously boasted was now charred, flitting to the ground in a trail of embers.
It's a scene of molten rain, almost bewitching in its utter devastation. A thunderous 'crack!' sounds- one of the large bottom branches has reached its limit from the fiery torture, and crashes to the ground in an eruption of angry embers.
The movement draws Sakura's attention to the three bodies strewn across the yard: two crumpled beneath the tree and one half floating in the garden pond. The once serene surface of the water now reflects the gluttony of flames as they continue to eat away at anything within their ravenous reach.
Sakura doesn't recognize any of the bodies. She looks to Sasuke for his reaction. His eyes- as crimson and dangerous as the fire before them, are snagged on the form floating in the pond.
"That's one of the Uchiha elders." His voice is stoic. Sakura is unsure if the reason is from shock or because there was no love lost on the man in question. He offers no further hints to his state of mind, and instead turns to duck into the house.
Sandaled feet crunch on broken glass- the fragments are unavoidable, scattered as they are all around the wooden flooring. The dining area itself is in a state of total disarray.
Lack of light makes it hard to discern just how bad the damage is- it's apparent the electricity had been knocked out at some point. Their only source of illumination is from the inferno engulfing the tree at their backs. The fickle flames make their shadows jump and disperse across the dark silhouettes of furniture. But a framed picture does catch Sakura's eye- shattered and ripped as it was, she is still able to recognize the photo of a baby Sasuke in a bathtub. The top of the photo has been bubbled by intense heat, marring his once smiling face.
It's an omen Sakura refuses to dwell on right now.
As Sasuke darts off to the kitchen, kunai in each hand, Sakura follows dutifully behind him.
This room is much darker; the only light comes from the modest window above the sink, allowing the reflection of flames to highlight the sharp edges of cabinetry.
Standing just before the sink is a silhouette of a person, breathing heavily, hunched in a way that indicates they favor their left leg. Sakura squints her eyes, willing them to adjust to the darkness at the same moment the figure tenses, straightening at the appearance of the two newcomers.
There is a moment of suspended animation- tightened springs ready to snap- as they try to determine if the other is friend or foe. Then, familiar features melt from the darkness as the individual steps forward, wiping blood from her chin with the back of her hand.
"Sasuke?" Relief swims within the melodic tone, and Mikoto rushes forward to embrace her youngest son. Sakura feels a tangible weight lift from her chest, before her eyes are drawn to a figure the woman had to step over to cross the room. The unknown man was dead- if the nasty gash that stretches across his neck is any indication. Sakura does not recognize him, though.
Whoever he was, it was clear he had underestimated the Uchiha matriarch.
"Sasuke, have you seen your father? He is the real target here. They ambushed and separated us all to outnumber him." Mikoto's tone is stern, even as her touch is gentle. Her long fingers stroke her son's bangs from his face to inspect him for any head wounds.
"No, you're the first one I've found." Similarly, his eyes dart from her bloodied teeth to the busted bottom lip. The woman quickly waves off his worry.
"He just got one good hit in, really. Gave me the opening I needed."
Sasuke nods his understanding as Mikoto turns her attention to Sakura with the same worry laden, assessing eyes. "You two need to get out of here. Our enemies are strong- they knew to bring only high level opponents. I know you are both chunin now, but even that will not be enough."
As the Uchiha matriarch rises to her true height, Sasuke shakes his head, adamant and stubborn. "But- Itachi! I heard-!"
"Your brother is here?" Her sharp interruption earns her a quick nod of acquiescence. "Good. With any luck, he is with your father now. Neither of you need to worry about them if they are together."
"Okasan, I'm not going to just turn tail and-" but he's cut from finishing the thought when all three of them sense it- the churning density of a chakra presence that is almost tangible in its' bloodlust. Three pairs of eyes shoot to the doorway leading out of the kitchen as a lone figure stands to block it.
The first thing Sakura notices about him is the sinister smile he's wearing, as if he revels in the bloodshed and chaos around them.
The second thing she notices is the scar just to the side of that smile. She'd seen this man once already tonight.
His voice is deep and rich and warm, a stark contrast to the cold chills that run down her spine with his words.
"How touching. A mother and her son. What luck; you will get to be together when you die."
Sakura isn't even given the chance to raise her kunai- she feels extreme vertigo as her body is lifted and thrown to the side of the room. Her back collides with the tiled wall just above the counter with such force, her breath is forcefully expelled from her lungs. Pieces of shattered porcelain clatter across the countertops. She's dazed, but even that could not account for just how quickly the man switches from the fuuton jutsu used on her to katon.
Even Mikoto, an A-ranked kunoichi in her own right, realizes she does not have the time to form the hand signs needed to create her own katon technique in time. It's all she can do to pull Sasuke into herself and bare her back to their assailant as red hot flames light up the modest kitchen with an intensity that has Sakura shielding her bare face from the heat.
There is a shrill shrieking, but the roar of the flames is so loud in Sakura's ears she cannot be sure who it is coming from.
Smoke causes her lashes to flutter fruitlessly. Her rapid blinks are an attempt to clear the heavy moisture that rush to coat her eyes in protection. She coughs on her next inhale, and the course air scratches at her soft lungs painfully. The horrid scent of burnt flesh clashes at the back of her throat, seeping an unwanted taste onto the edges of her tongue.
She wants to see- she needs to see. To ensure her other senses are lying. To prove to herself that Mikoto and Sasuke are okay. But the smoke is becoming suffocating, and she can't see passed her own hand as it tries futilely to filter the heavy air for her mouth.
She can hear a scuffle, though- someone has apprehended their attacker before being noticed. The sudden absence of heat against her skin feels cooler than normal. Sakura picks up the man's grunts as he struggles, cursing and throwing his weight around. And then a muted thump. And then silence. And then-
"Okasan!" There's panic in the deep tone. A quick burst of wind sucks the smoke from the small kitchen, and Sakura can finally open her eyes. She can finally breathe.
But her lungs do not draw air, regardless.
Not as she sees Itachi, standing over his mother's bared back. Not as she witnesses the horror etched into his soft features.
In that moment, she is struck by how vulnerable he looks. How young it makes him. She forgets- with all his prestige and natural talent, for how awed his peers and enemies alike are by his prowess- that he has only just become a man, himself. That he, too, is still in his teens.
She has never seen the ANBU captain look more lost, more unsure of himself, as he does now.
"Okasan…" He tries again, but his tone is gentle this time. Pleading.
Sakura's eyes drift to Mikoto's form. They search for the tell tale rise and fall of breath. The only movement is the easy detachment of charred flesh as it drifts with the tailend of the air current- like crisp, crumpled leaves falling from a barren, winter tree.
Itachi does not reach for her- his eyes astutely ignore the macabre shedding.
Then- movement!
"Okasan-" It's Sasuke's voice, high and tight like its straining against a vice. "You can… let go now…"
This breaks Itachi from his trance. As Sasuke struggles for release, standing to give himself more room, Itachi is before him, hands on his shoulders.
"Sasuke!" The name is a command on his lips, demanding his immediate attention, even as Sasuke's strain to stand begins to form a crack across Mikoto's concaved torso.
"Itachi, where is-" Fugaku's stern voice registers from the kitchen entry, but it's cut short when there is a sickening snap-
Just as Sasuke makes eye contact with his brother's spinning sharingan.
Just as Itachi catches his little brother's sleep induced body and pulls it into himself.
Just as the movement is too much for the husk that is now Mikoto's form, and it snaps in half and crumples in a plume of ash and burnt skin.
Sakura empties the contents of her stomach onto the blackened tiles of the kitchen floor.
And that is the last thing she remembers.
xXx
When Sakura wakes, it's in a hospital room.
An empty hospital room. No flowers or fruit at her bedside table; she's had no visiters.
Verdant eyes flick towards the closed window, curtains partially drawn. But morning light filters through, regardless. So some time has passed. Is it the next day, or further than that? How long has she been unconscious?
The last thing she saw before she passed out was the very first thing she saw upon coming to- she tries to shake the image from her head, but it sticks there, like the charred layer of burnt marshmallow-
Her stomach somersaults, and suddenly, she's going to be sick again.
But a cool restraint of metal tugging against her wrist is a cold shock to her system. It douses the nausea, forcing everything that was about to come up to instead sink down, down, deep into the depths of her stomach now.
She's chained to the sturdy railings of her hospital bed. She can feel the steady pull of energy from the band as it fulfills its hidden purpose- the consistent blockage of access to her chakra pathways.
"What?" Her voice is pitched in confusion and laden with anxiety. She tugs at her arm listlessly; the metal of the handcuff rings against the bedframe, unaffected by her plight.
Her eyes dart around the room again- alert in a way that verges on hysteria, as she tries to ascertain who, exactly, has taken her captive.
But these hospital walls are familiar. They are adorned with same diagrams of birth control and winter flu symptoms that she recognizes from the annual check ups that were a requirement for active duty shinobi. And above the door, a clock hangs; it's face proudly baring the leaf insignia.
That can't be right…
If she was captured by the enemy, surely it made no sense for them to still keep her within the leaf borders…
She tries to extend her senses on instinct and is once again thwarted by the cuffs. She uses her ears instead, but it is dead silent beyond her doorway. Beyond her window. The quiet is unnatural in its stillness.
Her room is warded, she realizes with a start. As if she was the one attacking the Uchiha compound. As if she is an enemy.
Her confusion and utter bewilderment is rising so quickly, it takes all her focus to stabilize her breathing. She has no idea what is happening, but first and foremost, she knows she must keep her head.
Despite the hospital setting and the new bandages that encircle parts of her body that she is barely now registering ache with a vengeance, it's clear that she is not exactly out of danger, yet.
xXx
Only two things could hold the interest and attention of Jiraiya the Gallant these days.
One was- of course- beautiful women. Their gentle curves, their soft edges. There was nothing more exquisite on this planet than the beauty of the female form.
But Jiraiya could turn his eyes away the moment he heard any news of the second.
And that was his home: The Village Hidden in the Leaves. Konoha.
That was why, after only 5 hours of the attack within Leaf Village borders, Jiraiya was already back within the gates, making a beeline towards the Hokage tower.
He made the mistake of being too distant, too nonchalant about the state of affairs here before. Ultimately, he had been too late to make any real difference.
He had vowed to never make that mistake again.
His specialized duties extended beyond the Fire Country's borders still, but his ear stayed close to the ground for even the most vapid vibration coming from that direction.
He is unaware of the specifics of the most recent incident, but he means to ensure it does not involve, nor intend to involve- Minato's boy.
Jiraiya had given his best effort to filch Naruto after the coup- unsure if it was wise to leave the nine-tails directly under the thumb of the Uchiha. But he did not have a persuasive enough reason to sway them into letting him go. The child was, after all, a powerful weapon.
When Jiraiya reaches the Hokage office, it is empty. He goes instead to the next logical place, where he finds the man he is looking for.
Fugaku is in a hospital room, flanked by ANBU and Uchiha policemen. There is a boy in bandages laying in the bed- judging by his dark hair and soft features, Jiraiya guesses this is Fugaku's youngest son. But mostly he is convinced by the fact that he is a striking resemblance to Mikoto.
He notes the blonde haired, loudly dressed boy standing next to the bed, his arms defiantly crossed and face twisted into a scowl. He, too, bears a striking resemblance to another.
"You don't know anything, old man!"
'Yup. That must be Minato's boy.'
"Sakura-chan would never do anything that could hurt Sasuke!"
The boy in mention just continues to stare at his bandaged hands. His wide eyes do not blink. He looks shell-shocked.
Naruto is too zoned in on his scolding to the hokage to notice.
"She was with us when the attack happened! And… and she got hurt during it too! What you're saying is just plain stupid."
Even without seeing his face, Jiraiya can tell Fugaku is about to lose his self control. He quickly inserts himself.
"Oh-hoh! Now that's no way to speak to the Hokage, is it?"
Fugaku turns at his voice; he looks startled. A man like him should not be surprised by anyone coming up from behind. Jiraiya is taken aback by his lack in awareness, until he gets a closer look.
The hokage's face is sallow, almost yellow in color. His face looks more gaunt, his deep frown lines even more pronounced.
His shoulders barely repress the tremble of labored breathing.
He looks sick.
"Who the hell are you?" Naruto shoots with a scrunched nose.
He goes ignored.
"Jiraiya." Fugaku's voice is rough and depleted. "It's good you're here. I need to speak with you." He guides him out of the room, and they are escorted by an array of Uchiha. A good number hang back to guard Fugaku's youngest child.
Jiraiya is ushered into another patient room- this one empty.
"Is your son okay?"
"Sasuke will make a full recovery. Itachi was untouched."
The Toad Sage is about to respond when the hokage continues.
"Mikoto is dead."
The white haired man is stunned- his contact had not informed him of that. As upsetting as the coup had been for him, and as little as he liked Fugaku as a whole, his heart is heavy at the news. Mikoto had always been a joy- he could remember her girlish laughter intertwining with Kushina's. He could remember their twin scowls as they threw their shoes at him for doing anything less-than-savory.
"I'm sorry for your loss." He says, and he means it.
There's a flash of emotion in the dark eyes of the man before him- too fast for Jiraiya to interpret.
And then Fugaku is continuing, as if finishing up a report.
"The alcohol of a party had been poisoned- our toxin experts are unable to determine the type. Looks to be foreign. The poison is slow acting and highly degenerative; it has killed 4 people already. 17 are currently hospitalized with varying degrees of deterioration. All are Uchiha. This was a targeted attack."
Ah.
That explained the Hokage's own appearance. He must be counted among the affected.
"I need you to find Tsunade. It's time she comes back to the village."
"What makes you think I know where she is?"
Hard, charcoal eyes affix themselves onto the Toad Sage. They flicker to life- deep vermillion catching fire.
"This is not a request, Jiraiya. It's an order. I have allowed both you and the Slug Princess to live freely outside our borders for years, but those same borders are under fire now. You both need to be present. Anything less could be considered an act of treason during such a trying time."
Though Jiraiya knew this was likely coming, he had not been looking forward to it. And he certainly did not welcome the Uchiha man's tone. But he could use this- make it work to his advantage.
"Whoa, easy there, Hokage-sama." Two large hands rise, splayed in pacification. "I wasn't saying I wouldn't try."
Fugaku exhales, and with it his shoulders slump ever so slightly. His relief is easily readable. He must have expected Jiraiya would be much more resistant.
"But- I do have one request. That I take the nine-tails jinchuriki with me. I can help train the boy to-"
"Yes, that's fine." Fugaku's quick agreement leaves Jiraiya, once again, stunned. "In fact, that's probably better. I would rather a weapon like him not be in the village until we can determine who else within its walls mean us harm."
The Toad Sage promptly shuts his slack jaw with a loud snap of teeth.
"And Jiraiya," Fugaku looks at him, but his eyes are once again dark, unfocused. "Please find Tsunade quickly. Her expertise is needed here, and time is of the essence."
As drained and sickly as the Fifth Hokage may look, Jiraiya knows Fugaku is not asking for himself.
xXx
Sakura drifts in and out of consciousness, despite her best efforts.
As full of fear and apprehension as she is, the unnatural stillness of the room has her settling into a near meditative state. The sun has already begun to cast the golden tint of descent upon the sterile walls of her room.
The sound of the doorknob jiggling is startling within that silence. Her back is ram rod straight in her bed as she faces the door, ready for anything.
When Itachi walks in, she can't help the wave of relief that washes over her. But it is short lived.
He doesn't greet her with the soft smiles she had just begun to grow accustomed to.
His face is neutral- bordering on grim. His dark eyes land on her, yet seem to go right through.
He's followed by Shisui, then another Uchiha she doesn't recognize. The stranger wears the Uchiha Police uniform, and a scowl that clearly communicates disgust towards her. There's a patched star etched onto the corner, indicating he is the Chief of Uchiha Police, Inabi.
Sakura is at a loss.
She doesn't know what to say- what to ask. She doesn't know how to approach any of this because she honestly has no idea why she's being detained.
The first thing she wants to do is cry out to Itachi- to extend her most sincere condolences. To commiserate in how horrible a tragedy.
But something deep within the pit of her gut cautiously tells her now would not be a wise time to bring that up.
So she stays silent.
Her eyes dart from one face to another, noting they all bear very different expressions.
It's Shisui who finally breaks the silence- finally takes pity on her.
"Hey Sakura." He wears a smile, but it's muted by the caution in his eyes. Dampened by the way it sounds as if he's speaking to a dangerous animal that could lunge at him at any moment. "How are you feeling?"
"Just a bit sore, I guess." Her eyes trail to the metal encasing her wrist. "Maybe a little trapped." She can't take the pleasantries right now. She'd rather he just get to the point. Rip off the band-aid.
Shisui does not offer any reassurances, and this small fact unnerves her.
"They're not too tight or anything, are they?" He asks instead, watching her with eyes full of hesitant sympathy but maintaining his distance.
An irritated grunt from Inabi. "You've got to be kidding me. She's lucky to even still have that hand."
Alarmed, Sakura's gaze shoots back to Shisui. He doesn't defend her, but his jaw ticks in a way that she recognizes as irritation.
"Sakura." When Itachi finally speaks, it carries as hollow. Yet the whole room stops to defer to him, all the same. His eyes have snapped into focus now. More than that, they're red with the threat of the sharingan.
The black tomoe drift sullenly around the pupils- ravens circling a kill.
"Your mother- where is she?"
The question completely throws Sakura. It doesn't make any sense. After everything that's happened, why are they asking about her mom?
"I- I don't know. She should be at home?"
Itachi's head ticks once in contradiction. "She is not. So where else would she be?"
Sakura's brain is mush. She's clearly been in this room for an entire day at this point. They would know better than her. There were more important things. Like where was Naruto? Was Sasuke okay? What happened to the rest of the clan-
"Sakura." Her name is a command. To stay focused. To be forthcoming. His tone leaves room for nothing less.
"I-I…" she frantically searches her mind for her mother's usual haunts. "Maybe the Yamanaka flower shop? There's a bookstore on the east side she's really fond of. Or maybe-"
"She's not within the village." The Uchiha heir's interruption is sharp but lacking any true bite. He sounds exhausted. Or perhaps overwhelmed was a better word.
But the meaning of his words brings Sakura to a halt.
"She's not…? What?"
Chief Inabi rolls his eyes, nearly groaning. "Save us the theatrics."
"I don't think she's acting." Shisui, this time. But it seems like the statement is directed more towards Itachi than the other man.
Affronted at the insinuation, Sakura opens her mouth to retort, but Itachi beats her to it.
"Where would you mother go, if she were ever to defect from the village?"
"Defect from- she would never leave the village!" Anger seeps into her tone, but underneath it simmers real, palpable fear.
'She wouldn't have actually defected. And leave her own daughter behind? Why would she leave?'
"Sakura." Never has she heard this man say her name as much as he has in the past five minutes. And as if to laugh in the face of the light fluttering of butterflies in her stomach that it had just begun to cause, he says it now in the worst way she could imagine.
As if she is an enemy.
"I need you to answer the question." Again, no room in his tone for anything other than obedience.
And the worst part is she actually knows the answer.
But now her chest is squeezing with tight apprehension- because why is he asking this at all? After what happened with his own mother, how could this be even remotely important? The implications make her chest burn in such a way that it's difficult to breath.
If she gives up the answer, would she be putting her mother in danger?
Vermillion eyes narrow at her hesitation.
"Are you aware of what she has done?"
The question has agonizing pins using her heart as a cushion.
She doesn't want to know.
"No. What has she done?" The question is forced through tight vocal chords. She is acutely aware, somehow, that the answer will haunt her for the rest of her life.
But she is also acutely aware that it is not something she can run from.
Itachi stays silent. His eyes watch her; every micro-expression, every involuntary twitch, every emotion that makes an appearance behind her big, green eyes. They're much too expressive for a chunin. She needs to work on that, he thinks, as he deactivates his kekkai genkai. His dark pupils defocus and he allows his now vacant stare to go through her once again to the wall.
He's seen enough to know that the young kunoichi before them has no knowledge of her mother's treachery.
Inabi- clearly losing his patience with the heir's sluggish interrogation, decides to butt in and move things along.
"Your mother has decided to turn her back on her village and her country by taking part in the staging of a coup against the current authority of Konoha. Her actions have led to innocent civilian death, as well as the assassination of the Uchiha Matriarch."
Even with knowing what her own eyes witnessed, hearing the confirmation of Mikoto's demise out loud hits a very tender part of her ribs. The accusation of her mother's involvement only heightens that pain. Her chest deflates; if the sudden expulsion of air sounds suspiciously close to a sob, it goes unmentioned.
But not unnoticed.
Itachi did not need his sharingan to see she was grieving the loss of two mothers.
Her verdant eyes lock on his, the emerald deeply glazed with sorrow.
He wants to look away- he's afraid his own eyes may betray his grief just the same.
"I'm so sorry…" her voice wobbles, uncertain if it can stand a longer sentiment.
"Is that a confession?" The sharp voice irks Itachi- he wishes he was able to bar the annoying police chief from shadowing them.
Because Itachi knows better. It's no admission of guilt.
It's the lack of having anything better to say when a piece of you is violently torn away and set ablaze. It's the acknowledgement of the existence of something so tragic, humankind could never find a combination of words that would even begin to communicate the force of that impact accurately.
Itachi understands, and dips his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment, his eyes never once leaving hers.
"A confession to what?" Bewilderment is apparent on the young girl's face, but it's laced with anger.
"A confession to your cooperation with terrorists." Inabi snaps back, a snarl on his lips.
Shock and disgust and indignation race through her blood like fire. A deep fury simmers just on the surface.
"What?" Her voice is a hiss. "I would never-"
His bark of laughter is an interruption that startles her into silence.
"Yeah, right." Inabi's snark is almost casual in its delivery. "Everyone knows how you no-name shinobi resent the Uchiha Clan-"
"That's enough." Itachi's cutting voice slices through the room, sharp and threatening. He turns and begins walking to the door. "Release her restraints." It's an order to the chief just as he passes him.
The older man turns, indignant. "The fuck you mean, release her?! I'll do no such thing! I don't take orders from you, boy!"
Itachi stops, just a foot away from the door. His back is straight, his posture seemingly relaxed. But there is an undercurrent of angry chakra thrumming around him. It accentuates his excellent control over it, his perfect restraint.
"I outrank you- both as ANBU Captain and as the Uchiha Heir." He does not even deign to turn his head toward the other man. "You do, in fact, take my orders."
Inabi looks unsure, as if he had overlooked those facts and despises their validity.
"But- she's a viable suspect to the attack on the Uchiha. A suspect to the death of your mother!"
"It is obvious she had no knowledge of the attack, and if you cannot see that, perhaps it is time to approach my father regarding your demotion."
"You damned punk." And it's said with real venom.
A hand slaps onto Inabi's shoulder. "You better do what he asks, Chief." Shisui says it with a nonchalant shrug, but a clear warning flashes across his dark eyes.
"Tch."
Only when Chief Inabi is beside Sakura, key clanking in the lock of her cuffs, does she feel the ward melt from the walls as Itachi releases it. When he exits the room, Shisui quietly follows.
But the Chief stands just at the foot of her bed, waiting until the footfalls fade down the hallway, before leveling her a heavy look.
"Don't try to run. Don't even try to leave this room. You won't get very far."
And as he makes his own exit, Sakura believes him.
She won't run.
She has no where to go.
xXx
Just here to assure you I have not abandoned this fic, nor do I have any intention to. :) Been a little preoccupied with other current hyperfixations, is all. T_T
Hope you all enjoy this longer chapter as thanks for your -saintly- patience, even if it is mostly just filled with angst.
