Birdsong stirred Sakura from her near catatonic slumber, drawing her out of the dreamless darkness and into blinding, golden light. She blinked, squinting until her eyes adjusted to the sunlight's intensity. An unfamiliar ceiling came into focus. It forced the cogs of her memory to start turning.
This was Itachi's room. Last night…
Heat suffused her cheeks and coiled in her lower belly. Wisps of sensation ghosted along her nether regions, fanning that heat, inflaming her flesh. Sakura bit her lip and focused on her breathing, the rhythm of which had spiked. She sat up, looked around, but found no trace of Itachi. Part of her felt relief, although she knew she would inevitably have to face him and apologize.
Presently, curiosity took over. Her eyes swept over his room, taking in the sparse furnishings, the spare futon mattress packed up in a corner, the minimalistic décor comprising of a few family photographs and a single, battle-worn looking tanto sitting on a wooden support on his bookshelves. It was quite similar to how she had imagined it would be – simple, unassuming and above all, neat.
The inner shoji screen slid open. Itachi walked in, carrying a tray of food. He did not seem surprised to find her awake and staring at his room, but then again, even without the ANBU mask on, Itachi never seemed to feel much of anything, really.
Sakura's heart, however, skipped a beat at the sight of him. Treacherous parts of her clenched around the memory of his fingers inside.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Good morning," he said. "Feeling better?"
The light was too bright for it to be morning. At long last, she found her voice. "What time is it?"
"Five PM. Come eat, you must be famished."
Sakura gathered her courage. "Listen, about last night, I'm-"
"We can talk while you eat," he said, walking across the room to open the rice paper screen leading to the back porch of the house.
Apprehension settled like a rock in her stomach. Of course he would be cross with her for not having taken proper care of herself, for letting it get so bad, for showing up on his porch in the middle of the night and leaving him with no choice but to take care of her. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, she would always fall behind, always be that Sakura who needed help to keep up.
She stood up and padded outside just as he finished setting the tray down on the lacquered wood floor and sat down himself. The air was warm, soft breeze carrying the scent of jasmine. Dappled sunshine fell on the wood under her feet, warming it. Sakura sat across the tray from Itachi, keeping it between them like the flimsiest shield in existence.
"Eat," he said again as he noticed her eyeing the colorful array of grilled veggies, rice and a bowl filled with amber-colored broth. It sounded like an order, despite lacking the usual steel undertone, so Sakura picked up the chopsticks and obeyed.
The vegetables had a pleasant crunch to them, the rice was fluffy and the broth rich. Sakura started eating with more enthusiasm, relishing the taste and the pleasant sensation of proper food in her stomach.
She stole glances at Itachi in between bites, eyes surreptitiously trailing along the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the contour of his cheekbones. Until last night, she hadn't seen him without the ANBU mask for more than one minute at a time. He appeared meditative, or perhaps lost in thought, dark eyes fixed on the dappled shadows moving over the grass.
The sweet warble of a blackbird perched in the nearby tree filled the silence for a time.
"Taichou-"
"Itachi," he corrected her calmly.
Sakura set the empty soup bowl on the tray. She was already feeling a little stronger after eating. "Itachi," she repeated, syllables light on her tongue. "I'm sorry for imposing on you."
"Care to talk about what keeps you up at night?"
In spite of her blunder, or perhaps because of it, Itachi was still trying to help her by offering to listen. What was it he'd said during their last departure from Konoha? They were allowed to have each other's back. But what Sakura had an issue with was just how unfair that would inevitably turn out to be, because something told her Itachi wouldn't ever come looking for her help, or her ear to listen, or her shoulder to cry on, even if he needed it. He was offering to help because he felt responsible for her, and likely saw looking after her well-being as part of his duty now as her captain – and Uchiha Itachi was nothing if not dutiful.
Something inside her churned, arguing that last night had been anything but perfunctory. Sakura's rational mind attributed that to his blatant perfectionism.
In truth, Sakura was embarrassed to tell him the real reason that kept her awake at night, about the face that haunted her dreams – though she had not seen it, though she was dead. She had attended her funeral as one more ANBU mask lost among the other members who had come to pay their respects.
In the time Itachi had been away, Hyuuga Haruka's name had been etched on the Memorial Stone and white flowers had covered her grave like a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Sakura had never personally met Haruka while she had been alive, but she had known more about her wretched final hours of life than anyone else present at her funeral.
Hyuuga Haruka, captain of ANBU team Go, had watched her teammates being executed. Her eyes had been gouged out. Then, she had been raped. Then, strangled to within an inch of her life and left to die. Sakura had read Tsunade's autopsy report – trace amounts of smoke had been found in Haruka's lungs, indicating she had still been breathing at the time the fire had started.
Ino's words from the day before had fallen on deaf ears. Sakura had utterly relished in torturing the monster who had played a part in Haruka's horrific end. Firing up all his pain receptors at once, setting them off like fireworks at the Tanabata festival, then drugging him with his own endorphins, repeatedly – if this had gone on for long, she reckoned she could have driven him to lose his mind completely.
And it would have been no less than he deserved.
Ino would never understand. Neither would Itachi. Whatever this made her out to be, Sakura didn't want them to see, didn't want them to know.
"Not really," she finally answered his question. "But… there is another favor I would like to ask of you."
Itachi turned his head to finally meet her gaze at that, eyes dark, guarded, impenetrable windows to his soul – so much like Sasuke's.
Sakura mustered her courage. She may not have possessed a coveted doujutsu, but she was a kunoichi, and ANBU, and being Tsunade's apprentice did paint a target on her back, for good measure.
"Last night wasn't real," she said, choosing her words carefully. "But what if I want it to become real? One time. No strings attached."
Not a muscle moved on Itachi's face. Sakura waited with baited breath, praying he couldn't hear her heart frantically pounding against her ribcage. She willed her facial muscles to relax, to mirror his unreadable expression. Even though this might just have been either the bravest or the craziest thing she'd ever done.
"I see you've found the loophole in the manual," was all Itachi said impassively, after what felt like an agonizing amount of time.
Sakura nodded. While the ANBU rules strictly classified 'attachment' as forbidden, they mentioned next to nothing about physical relationships being prohibited outside of missions, even among members of the same team. She had read the manual over and over during Itachi's absence and had come to doubt it was as much an oversight as it was a tacit concession made to ensure members had at least one means of trying to keep their sanity more or less intact.
Trust was a valuable and scarce commodity even among shinobi outside the special forces. Who could one trust more than one's teammate?
Itachi hadn't said yes, but he hadn't said no yet either. Sakura decided to take her victories while she could and give him some space to decide, as well.
"Come to my place tonight if you're interested," she said, standing up. "If not, we can pretend this conversation never happened and I won't ask you again. Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. And for… having my back."
She left him sitting on the porch and teleported a short distance, out of sight, pleased to find her chakra reserves had already greatly regenerated – and slightly bewildered at her own audacity. Propositioning Uchiha Itachi of all people – her own ANBU captain! Even in light of her reason for coming up with this madness of an idea, the more she thought about it, the more appalled she was.
Aside from the obvious annihilation of her dignity in the event of Itachi not showing up, he might find the whole notion to be too dangerous of an entanglement and simply sign off her transfer papers to a different team. Especially as he seemed to be aware of her penchant for obsessive, misguided love. She sighed. Kami, what he must be thinking about her…
Really, what madness had possessed her? She wondered as she walked into her apartment, a mere fifteen minutes later. But no sooner had she crossed the threshold than she noticed the utter mess her sleepless-self had left behind. All thoughts about the potential disaster she had caused left her mind.
Because what if he did show up? The mess would surely make him reconsider and run for the hills instead.
With a groan, Sakura entered into deep-cleaning mode.
By the end of it, her mind had been in overdrive for so long it was at least currently incapable of forming a single self-deprecating thought. Sakura treated herself to a long soak in the tub before curling up on the couch with a hefty tome on medicinal herbs, bent on continuing her research on an idea she'd come up with during her bout of insomnia.
Only she found herself staring at the clock on the wall for minutes on end instead, heart sinking a little more with each one that passed.
When both hands struck ten PM, Sakura mechanically set her book aside and went into the kitchen. She set water on the stove, prepared her cup, placed a teaspoon of tea in it, then sat in a chair at the table to wait for the water to boil, chin in hand.
He wasn't coming.
Realization hit like a fist in the stomach. Like her shishou, she had gambled and lost. Unlike her, Sakura found herself dreading the possible consequences. She didn't want her time in the ANBU to end like this. Didn't want her time with Itachi to end like this.
Now there was a curious thought, she mused.
The kettle whistled. Sakura slid off the chair, went to turn off the flame and simply stood there, paralyzed with that thought. Hating herself.
There was a knock at the door. She walked over as if in a dream, hand reaching for the cold knob and turning it, mind devoid of thought.
Her eyes met Itachi's and her muscles locked. She blinked fast to clear her vision, dumbfounded. Her suddenly frantic pulse was booming in her ears, but Itachi's voice somehow rose above that noise, snapping her out of her stupor.
"You didn't expect me to come through the window, did you?" he asked, quirking a brow, something eerily close to amusement discernible on his face.
"No," Sakura blurted out, "of course not."
At long last, her legs obeyed and she stepped aside to allow him in. She cleared her throat and was pleased when her voice came out reasonably steady.
"I was making myself some tea, would you like some?" she asked.
"Tea would be nice," he agreed, stepping out of his sandals and following her to the kitchen.
Her hands kept shaking as she took the kettle off the stove to pour more water into it and put it back on. Sakura hid them behind her back when she turned around to face him. Her eyes fell on the pink box he placed on the table.
"I couldn't come empty-handed, so I brought dango," he said. "Though I don't know if you like them?"
"I do."
She noticed his eyes trailing over to the stove and realizing she had forgotten to turn on the flame. She did so now, behind her back, and was pleased to hear the crackle of the spark and the subsequent whoosh of flame catching on the first try. For a moment, she could swear she glimpsed the corners of his lips curling upwards. But surely, she had only imagined that.
"I'm sorry," she said, mentally kicking herself to get a grip already. "I didn't think you were coming," Sakura admitted.
"I wasn't sure it was wise to come, either."
His openness emboldened her. "What made you change your mind?"
Itachi peered at her from under thick lashes, dark gaze full of unspoken things. "I was in the mood."
Whatever unspeakable things those words, that tone, dripping with implications, stirred in her, Sakura's alarm bells rang clear. Even without knowing what had set them off, exactly, because she had seen statues way more expressive than him, she trusted her gut.
She smiled bittersweetly, and told him just that.
"You're lying."
This time, she did not imagine it. Itachi's lips curled into a smirk, even as his eyes seemed to say 'you're learning'.
"Care to test that?" he asked, causing that treacherous snake in her belly to coil tighter.
In the time it took Sakura to blink, Itachi vanished from his seat and reappeared right in front of her, a hair's breadth away, intruding on no more than her personal space. Her stomach somersaulted, heart rate soaring. This close, she caught a whiff of him – a mix of wind, smoke and something deeper, headier. If she were to tilt her head up and shift forward in the slightest, their lips would meet.
Head spinning, some distant part of her that was not busy getting high on his scent realized he was waiting for her to do it. Just like he had in the genjutsu. Ceding control. Giving her a choice. Allowing her just enough space to change her mind and back out if she so opted to do.
Did any part of him expect her to? Because if there happened to be one, she silenced it when she kissed him.
It brought back the memory of last night's onslaught of sensations, which shot through her like an electric current, leaving goosebumps on her skin. Sakura reached out for him with hands still trembling, tracing along the muscles on his neck as he kissed her breathless.
For a moment, Sasuke's face fleeted in the darkness behind her closed eyelids. Her eyes stung with tears. It was everything she had dreamed their first kiss would feel like and more, but this was not him. It had not been meant to be. She pushed the memory of Sasuke into the dark recesses of her mind and bit on Itachi's lip.
Sakura felt the metallic tang of blood on the tip of her tongue and pulled away, an apology already making its way to her lips, only to be swallowed as Itachi pulled her back into another kiss. His fingers dug into the back of her thighs almost – but not quite painfully and Sakura thought her insides might be melting as he lifted her up and shifted to place her on the very edge of the kitchen counter, her legs draped on either side of his hips.
Even with hard evidence pressed against her core, Sakura still didn't believe Itachi had told her the truth earlier. Presently however, her attention was all-consumed. She didn't care. Whatever his reasons, by all means, she wanted him to enact that lie.
Sakura shifted forward, rubbing against him, air coming and going through her airways haphazardly, breaths stolen whenever she could manage. Itachi's hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back. His mouth left hers to set fire along her jaw, then down the side of her neck. Every part of him felt positively feverish in fact, and her medic instincts nearly kicked in before she realized this was his fire-natured chakra riling up in his system, enveloping them and threatening to burn her to cinders.
A sharp keening sound suddenly blared in her ear from somewhere to her left.
Sakura opened her eyes, bewildered. Itachi abandoned his work on her neck to reach out for the stove. The noise died out and she suddenly became aware of just how loudly she was panting. A shiver licked down his spine at the sight of his face. His lower lip was swollen from her untender misstep, eyes glazed with something almost predatory. It struck a chord in her, that wild edge in his gaze, and for a moment the truth nearly spilled out of her.
She'd never done this before.
But after a moment's hesitation, she decided against it. She wanted Itachi to treat her as a woman, not a girl. And she trusted him.
Sakura reached out. Cupped his face. He leaned into her touch, almost imperceptibly.
"Itachi…" she whispered.
She hadn't thought it possible, but his eyes grew darker. What was it, the sound of his name on her lips? She'd had no idea she could have this effect on a man, let alone this man.
"Tea?" he asked, then, more deeply, "or bed?"
Sakura laced her arms around his neck and bent forward to whisper in his ear. "Bed."
The muscles rippled under the skin of his arms and again, he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom like she weighed next to nothing. He lay her down gently and the sheets felt exquisitely cool against her skin. She lost her blouse first, no idea and not a care about where he might have thrown it. Sakura was equally quick to divest him of his shirt, but the next thing she knew, his mouth was on her breast and his hand slipped between her legs, teasing her through the remainder of her clothing.
Last night came back to her again, another flash of sensation. Tonight's Itachi felt different somehow.
Before she could puzzle that out, deft fingers hooked in the waistband of her shorts and pulled them off along with her panties. Her breath caught in her chest when she realized his mouth was leaving a downward trail of lava over her ribs and down her abdomen. She tensed, thighs drawing together, but he gently ran his hands over them, kneading the flesh.
"Relax," he said in between two kisses on her lower belly.
Sakura drew in air in halted puffs. Itachi kissed her inner thigh, sucked gently on the tender skin, and had her quivering like a leaf in the wind again, barely holding back a moan. Then the flat of his tongue brought all its heat over to her clit and it slipped past her lips anyway as her back arched off the mattress and her head tilted back, digging into the pillow.
She was spinning, body overtaken with sensation as Itachi's tongue rippled over her most sensitive part, somehow tightening the coils inside her with every lick and suckle, until the tension became nigh on unbearable and she was writhing under his touches. Too much. It was all too much. Sakura saw stars explode across her mindscape when his tongue slid over her one last time and brought about her undoing.
A moan dragged out along the walls of her throat, along with the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
Itachi rose from between her legs, deep, dangerous hunger lurking in the black pools of his eyes. For a moment, Sakura dazedly wondered whether she had unwittingly awoken something in him, something ancient and forbidden. Something which perhaps had been better left to slumber, lest it consumed her.
But when he crawled up and kissed her, ever-so-gently, she thought it might not be such a terrible way to go after all. She could taste herself on his lips, sultry, slightly tangy. Her fingers trailed down along his toned back, to his hips and the waistband of his pants. Before she could rid him of them, however, his hand found its way back between her legs. Her hips angled to meet his touch briefly before pulling back. Eager, but still too sensitive.
Itachi had gotten what he had wanted however, before the fingers which had just caressed her slid inside her next. Entirely different sensation, different kind of pleasure. Sakura's body offered no resistance, though her walls fluttered around him, remnants of bygone bliss shivering along her nerve endings.
She realized she wanted more. She wanted him.
"Itachi…"
Sakura's eyes fluttered open, drunk on the effect it appeared to have on him. He moved fluidly, eyes unfathomable, never leaving hers as he kicked off his pants and readjusted his position between her legs.
One of his hands came up to cup her face. He shifted his weight on the other arm. Sakura felt his member slide up against her folds and she focused on keeping her breathing level and her hips still. His thumb caressed her temple and he lowered his head until his forehead was resting against hers. The tip of his cock slid down to her entrance and Sakura inadvertently held her breath.
"Relax," he whispered again, lips moving against the corner of her mouth. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Sakura realized then that she hadn't fooled him for one second. Itachi was perfectly aware of her state. Before she could mentally kick herself for her naivety, he kissed her. His hips started moving slowly. She felt pressure, but true to his word, no pain as he pushed in and out, a little deeper each time, giving her time to adjust to his girth, to the stretching of her walls and the feeling of being overwhelmingly full.
Before she knew it, he was fully seated inside her. She released another breath she'd obstinately been holding, for good measure. He moved earlier than she had expected him too, however – one small, experimental thrust and the rest of that air came out of her airways condensed into a gasp of surprise. That had felt strange, but not unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Sakura looked up to find Itachi gazing down at her face, studying her expression. This was what she had been trying to avoid by not telling him she was a virgin. She decided to try her trick a third time to distract him.
"Ita-aaaah… chi…"
He caught her in the middle of it. Another thrust, this one just as gentle, but not as slow, touched something inside her that made her burn all over again. Itachi leaned down to whisper in her ear. It only served to further inflame her.
"If you want something, Sakura, you need only ask."
And with that, his hips started moving in earnest, making her breath hitch with every thrust. Her knees moved up of their own accord, caressing his ribs, the slight shift in angle allowing him to slide in deeper, closer to that sweet spot where she needed, wanted him. The coils were tightening again, pressure building up. Instinct took over and she moved her hips along with him, learning to match his pace, chasing her release.
She let go of the sheets she had been bunching up in her fists and reached up to lace her arms around his neck as he rocked into her, a little faster now. Sakura pulled him down into a kiss, moaning into his mouth when he hit that perfect place again and again, winding her up, pushing her closer to that edge.
That edge beyond which stars were born and died, supernovas in the void.
Sakura saw them no more than a minute later, as Itachi slid out of her almost completely before thrusting back in. Her moan broke down into a staccato and her body folded around him like origami, hips riding out the waves of that immeasurable pleasure.
Itachi held still. His breath felt hot against her over-sensitized skin and was almost as rapid as hers. He planted a single, dry kiss on the side of her neck and gently pulled out of her, extricating himself from her hold to lie down beside her, on his side, facing her.
Sakura's eyes filled with tears. They came unbidden when he left her and she didn't understand. She had won. Itachi had given her everything she had wanted and more.
Then why did this feel like such a bitter loss?
She clamped a hand over her mouth, belated attempt to stifle a sob.
"Sakura, come here," Itachi said, draping his arm over her, gently turning her around, close up against him.
Sakura chocked back another sob. More tears flowed and her mind was whirring, aghast, unable to identify where they were coming from to stop them.
"I'm s-sorry," she managed, mortified. "I don't know what-"
"You're grieving."
Itachi brushed aside the silky locks of hair which had fallen over her face and she saw him through the blur of tears, slowly coming into focus. But for once, his features remained his own, not overlapping with Sasuke's in her mind's eye.
"No," she whispered, feeling herself growing numb. "I can't mourn your brother any longer."
"Not Sasuke," he said, still running his fingers through her hair. "The part of you that died with him. You let her go tonight."
She stared at him, wide eyed, suddenly feeling more exposed before him that she had until now, naked and at his mercy.
"Is that the real reason you came tonight?" she asked.
Itachi's arms infinitesimally tightened around her. His lips brushed against her forehead, nose tickling along the hairline. It was so easy to pretend there was something more going on between them when he acted like a lover. But there wasn't. He sighed.
"I told you, I was in the mood."
Sakura's eyelids were growing heavy, but his lie didn't sit well with her this time, either.
"Please," she said, trying to hang on even as she felt herself starting to slip away, weary to the bone. "Don't lie to me tonight."
"Why not tonight?"
"Because… it's the only one I'll have…"
Itachi huffed against her forehead. Amusement? Her sleep-plagued mind wondered.
"Those were your terms," she thought she heard him say. "I never said I agreed to all of them."
Surely she must have been dreaming already.