When Sasuke finally returned, his face was composed, calm even, but the look he gave her was anything but. His gaze was sharp, piercing, heavy with unspoken knowledge. In that instant, Sakura knew that he had confronted Itachi. There was no need for words—Sasuke had always been someone who conveyed a thousand things in silence, and tonight, the weight of his understanding was suffocating.

They remained silent for the rest of the evening. Each passing second deepened the tension between them, unspoken but impossible to ignore. As soon as the birthday song ended and the cake was cut, Sakura excused herself, slipping out before Sasuke's accusing stare became too much to bear.

Sakura had intended to come home to the quiet—a brief escape from the tension that was the Uchiha residence. But the moment she crossed the threshold, she stopped cold. The silence wasn't comforting. It was heavy.

He was there.

Sakura didn't need to see him to know. The air was different, charged with a familiar intensity that sent a chill down her spine and made her pulse quicken. Her fingers twitched, tightening around the strap of her bag as she closed the door behind her with a soft click, her breath catching in her throat.

The conversation she'd been dreading all evening was inevitable now, no longer something she could escape.

"Itachi." Her voice was barely a whisper. The room seemed to close in around her, the shadows lengthening as her heartbeat drummed in her ears.

Itachi didn't make a sound, but she could feel the shift in the atmosphere—his presence, quiet but undeniable, drawing nearer.

"Sakura." His voice, gentle yet firm, cut through the silence. She turned slowly, her heart hammering in her chest.

He stood by the window, framed by the dim light from the street. His stance was relaxed, but his eyes—sharp, dark, and unwavering—were locked on her.

"You've been avoiding me," Itachi said, his tone even, without accusation. It was simply a statement, delivered with the same calm precision that defined him. His gaze never wavered as he took a measured step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving her space to retreat if she chose to.

Sakura's breath hitched. Her fingers tightened their grip on her bag, the strap biting into her skin. Her mind raced for an excuse, for something—anything—that could deflect the intensity of his stare. But nothing came.

She swallowed hard. "I haven't…" she started, but her voice faltered, weak and unconvincing. She knew it was pointless to lie. Itachi could always see through her.

His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes darkened just slightly, enough to let her know he heard what she wasn't saying. He moved closer, stopping just a breath away, his presence overwhelming in the small space between them.

"Something is troubling you," he said.

Sakura felt the pressure building in her chest, the weight of everything she had been trying to hide pressing down harder with each word he spoke. Her throat tightened, and she looked away, unable to meet the full force of his gaze. If she looked at him now, if she met his eyes, he would see everything she was too afraid to admit.

"I just… I thought…" Her voice trailed off, and she cursed herself for sounding so weak. How could she even begin to explain? That she was terrified he didn't care? That the life growing inside her felt more like a burden than a blessing because she was convinced he would never want her, not really?

"Sakura." His voice broke through her thoughts. The way he said her name made her heart ache, and against her better judgment, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

Itachi's eyes, always so careful and controlled, held something different now. They were still sharp, still observant, but there was a softness there too, something she hadn't allowed herself to see before.

"You can tell me anything, Sakura," he said softly, his voice steady but laced with emotion he rarely revealed. "I'm here, and you can trust me—always."

The sincerity in his words wrapped around her like a safety net, but instead of comfort, it made her heart twist painfully. Her eyes stung, and she bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"How was I supposed to know?" Her voice came out sharper than she intended, shaking with the weight of emotions she had kept bottled up for far too long. She wanted to steady herself, but the words rushed out before she could stop them. "You've always kept everything to yourself, Itachi. You never let me in. How could I trust something you've never shown me?"

For the first time, she saw a crack in his composure. It was slight—the faintest widening of his eyes, the brief pause before he blinked—but it was there. He was caught off guard, his usual certainty faltering.

His brows drew together, a flash of confusion crossing his features before it was quickly replaced by something else—disbelief.

"You think this was a game?" he asked, his voice low, carrying a quiet intensity that shook her to the core.

She parted her lips to speak, to explain, but the lump in her throat made it impossible to get the words out. Tears welled up, blurring her vision, but she couldn't stop them. Her silence spoke volumes, and it was all the answer Itachi needed.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked almost lost, as if struggling to process her reaction. His brows knitted together, and a faint tension appeared in his usually calm expression, his lips parting slightly as if searching for words. The vulnerability in his eyes was unmistakable, revealing a rare openness that told her her words had reached a part of him he rarely showed anyone. She had never seen him like this—unguarded, exposed in a way that made her chest tighten with emotion.

"You thought…" His voice was quieter now, tinged with disbelief. "You really believed that everything between us was just… temporary?"

The tears finally spilled, and she turned her face away, unable to hide the pain in her eyes. It was all the answer he needed.

Itachi's expression faltered, the realization hitting him hard, the weight of it clear in his eyes

"This is my fault," Itachi muttered, his voice tight with self-reproach. He turned away slightly, his hand clenching at his side. "I should have told you. I should have said something sooner, but I thought—" He paused, his jaw tightening, clearly searching for the right words.

"I thought you needed time," he continued, his voice quieter now, laced with emotion. "Time to come to terms with… us." His eyes softened, though he still didn't look at her directly. "I wanted to give you space, to let you decide on your own terms. I thought if I pushed, it would drive you away."

The weight of his words hung in the air; his regret palpable as he finally turned back to face her. "But maybe I gave you too much space," he added, his tone filled with quiet remorse. "And now I see how wrong I was."

Sakura's heart clenched painfully at his words, guilt washing over her as she saw how much blame he carried. Every part of her ached to reach out, to pull him into her arms, to tell him it wasn't just his fault—that they were both to blame. But something held her back. The need to make him understand where she was coming from, the weight of her own silence, made her freeze.

Sakura swallowed, her voice small, barely above a whisper. "I thought you didn't care. I thought you kept me at arm's length because I wasn't…" Her voice wavered, choking on the words she could barely bring herself to say. "Because I wasn't enough."

The words cut deeper than she wanted to admit. She was no Uchiha. No child of a famed clan. Ever since she became a genin, she had lived in the shadow of others—Sasuke, Naruto, Kakashi. Even back then, she had felt weak, ordinary, not enough to stand beside those destined for greatness. And Itachi… he was the pinnacle of that greatness. He came from a family revered in the village, known for their power and their legacy. What was she compared to that?

Despite her accomplishments, despite knowing she had earned her place, standing next to Itachi felt different. It wasn't just about power—it was about heritage. About the deep-rooted legacy of a clan that expected perfection. And even though she knew she was strong, capable, that small voice inside her still whispered doubts. It told her she wasn't worthy of someone like him, that she would never be enough for a man born into a world where power and bloodline were everything.

Itachi's expression softened, his eyes filled with remorse. His hand hovered for a brief moment before he gently cupped her cheek, his touch unsure but tender. His thumb brushed away a tear. The warmth of it should have comforted her, but instead, it only deepened the ache in her chest.

"You've always been enough, Sakura," he said, his voice low but firm. "More than enough. I was afraid—afraid that if I pushed you into this, you'd feel trapped, or like it wasn't your choice. So, I stepped back, waiting for you to come to me when you were ready. I never wanted to hurt you.

His thumb traced the line of her cheek again, the gesture matching the softness in his voice. "But I see now that my silence did just that. It hurt you and I'm sorry."

Sakura's breath trembled as she gazed up at him, her heart heavy with the weight of his confession. He had been trying to protect her, to give her the space to make her own choices, while she had been quietly falling apart, thinking he didn't want her.

"I've never… had this before," he confessed, his fingers still gently cradling her face. "I've never been this close to someone. I didn't know how to handle it. I thought I was protecting you by keeping some distance, but I see now… I was wrong."

Her chest tightened, a wave of emotions washing over her—relief mixed with the frustration of having waited so long to hear this. "I don't need distance, Itachi," she whispered. "I need you."

Itachi exhaled deeply, the tension in his posture melting as her words settled over him. Something in his expression shifted, and for the first time, she could see him truly understanding what she needed from him.

"I'm here," he murmured, leaning down and pressing his forehead gently against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "I've always been here. I'm not going anywhere, Sakura. I just… I didn't know how to show you. But I'll do better."

Sakura closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words sinking into her heart. She could feel the sincerity in his voice, in his touch, and she knew that he meant every word.

But even in that moment, Sakura couldn't let go of the fear coiling inside her, the anxiety that had been eating away at her ever since she discovered the truth. It wasn't just about him caring for her—it was about the future. Their child. The uncertainty of what lay ahead pressed down on her. What kind of life awaited them? What kind of future would their child have?

Her body stiffened, and she pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, her voice trembling with fear. "Itachi," she whispered, barely able to get the words out, "I need to tell you something."

His dark eyes searched hers, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he sensed the shift in her tone. "What is it?" he asked gently, his hand still resting on her cheek.

Sakura swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She had rehearsed this moment in her head a thousand times, but now that it was here, the words felt impossibly heavy. Her grip on his hand tightened, as if drawing strength from his presence.

"I'm pregnant," she finally said, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, everything froze. Itachi's hand stilled, his eyes widening just slightly as the reality of her confession sank in. The silence that followed was thick, the tension palpable as the weight of her words settled between them.

Sakura's heart raced, her thoughts spinning. She could see the shock ripple through him, his calm composure faltering in the face of the unexpected news. Was he angry? Was he upset? Had she made a mistake by telling him now?

Itachi blinked once, twice, as if still processing what she had said. His grip on her hand tightened instinctively, a silent anchor amidst the storm of emotions swirling around them. Yet, his silence was unbearable, the weight of his reaction hanging heavily in the air.

Sakura's panic rose, and she began to ramble. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was so scared, and then Shisui—he told me about the clan elders. How they want you to find someone suitable. When he said that, it felt like all my fears crashing down on me at once. This baby… it wasn't planned, and I…"

Her voice cracked as her thoughts spiraled, the fear she had been holding in for so long spilling out in a torrent of words. She clutched his hand tighter, desperate for reassurance, but unable to stop the flood of her anxieties.

"This baby …" she faltered, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Will be half Uchiha. What if… what if they don't manifest the Sharingan? What if they aren't what the clan expects? I know there will be so many expectations placed on them. I'm scared, Itachi. What if our child isn't enough in their eyes? What if …—"

"Sakura." Itachi's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, firm yet gentle, but there was an edge to it she hadn't heard before. His eyes darkened briefly, a flash of something fierce crossing his face. "Shisui should never have said that."

He stepped closer, his grip tightening on her hand, anchoring her in place. His gaze, once so calm, now held a quiet intensity that made her heart race. "I don't care what the elders think," he said slowly, his voice steady, yet there was a dangerous certainty beneath it. "You and this baby are my family."

He paused, and for a moment, the weight of his words hung in the air, the tension thick around them.

"If it comes down to it," he said, his voice dropping, almost like a vow, "I'll leave the clan."

Sakura stared at him, her breath catching in her throat as the full impact of his words settled over her. The relief she had longed for washed over her, easing the fear that had gripped her heart. Slowly, the tension in her shoulders ebbed away, but the gravity of Itachi's declaration remained, far heavier than she had anticipated.

"You and our baby are my family," he repeated, his voice steady and filled with emotion. "I've only ever wanted you, Sakura. Nothing will change that."

Sakura's heart swelled with emotion. She whispered his name, "Itachi…"

He leaned in, his forehead hovering close to hers, before pulling back slightly, his eyes locking with hers. His hand cradled her cheek as he held her gaze, his expression soft but unwavering. "I love you, Sakura," he whispered, his voice filled with deep emotion. "You are everything to me. And this baby… it's not a mistake."

Sakura's breath hitched as the weight of his words sank in, the tears finally spilling over. Her body shook with overwhelming emotion as the relief, the fears, and the weight she had carried alone for so long all poured out at once. She clung to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she broke down completely, her sobs escaping her in waves.

"I-I'm so sorry," she sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion. "For doubting you, for not seeing how much you cared. I'm sorry, Itachi."

Itachi held her close, his arms wrapped around her, strong and steady. He rested his head gently on top of her head as he hugged her, his voice soft and filled with tenderness. "You don't have to be sorry."

His embrace tightened as he held her, his presence grounding her in the reality of their love, their connection. "We'll face this together," he murmured softly.

Sakura buried her face in his shoulder, her sobs muffled by his warmth. For the first time, she felt truly safe in his arms, knowing that he would never let her go. He had made his choice, and that choice was her—and their child.

XXX

Sakura's sobs gradually faded, her body trembling faintly in his arms as exhaustion finally overtook her. Itachi held her close, feeling her breath slow and steady against his chest. The weight of her words still echoed in his mind, lingering even as his instinct to push aside emotion gnawed at him. He wasn't the kind of man who allowed feelings to cloud his judgment for long. He had trained himself to compartmentalize, to set aside personal turmoil when other matters demanded his attention. But this wasn't just any situation—this was Sakura, and now, their child.

Sakura, so vulnerable and fragile in his embrace, had been carrying this burden alone for far too long. His silence had caused her pain, his hesitation to express what he felt had left her doubting herself—and him. A flicker of guilt passed through him, knowing he had contributed to her suffering. But her fears, as painful as they were, weren't without basis.

Over the years, she had witnessed Sasuke struggle under the weight of their father's relentless expectations, enduring constant comparisons that had driven him even further away from Itachi. The pressure of being an Uchiha was unrelenting, and Itachi couldn't ignore the possibility of his child facing similar scrutiny.

The thought ignited something fierce inside him—a need to protect Sakura and their unborn child from that same harshness, from the unforgiving expectations of his clan. Gently, Itachi shifted, slipping his arms beneath her knees and back, lifting her effortlessly. She stirred slightly in his hold, fingers weakly grasping at his shirt, as though afraid he might leave. But leaving was never an option. Not now, not ever. That was the one thing he was absolutely certain of—he would not abandon her again.

Lowering her onto the bed with care, he moved slowly, not wanting to disturb her. Sakura's eyes fluttered open briefly, exhaustion still pulling her under, but her hand reached for him, brushing against his cheek in a silent plea for reassurance, as though needing to know he was still there.

"Stay," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied softly, his voice steady and calm, a promise woven into every word.

He lay down beside her, drawing her back into his arms, her body instinctively curling into his. His hand moved to rest gently on her abdomen, where their child grew. The reality of it—this life they had created together—began to settle within him. It wasn't just the weight of responsibility; it was a profound stirring he hadn't expected.

Itachi allowed himself to feel it. This child. Their child. The connection felt powerful, binding him to Sakura and the future they would build together. It was a future he had always hoped for but never truly believed he deserved—a reality filled with warmth and promise. He knew he was capable of love; he loved his family, he loved Sakura. But this feeling was different. It was deeper, more profound, stirring emotions within him that made him feel more human, more present than he had in years.

The Uchiha clan's expectations—the weight of his legacy—hovered in his mind, and while it troubled him, what concerned him most was the potential rift it could create between him and his immediate family. But if the Sharingan never manifested, if their child was free of the burden that came with the Uchiha bloodline, Itachi would consider it a blessing. He had seen what it did to those in his family—the curse that came with their power. He didn't wish that on his child.

As Sakura's breathing evened out, signaling her drift into sleep, Itachi's mind remained active, silently plotting his next moves. Confronting his family would have to happen soon. He would need to figure out the right moment, the right way to break the news. But that could wait, at least for now. There was time to deal with the politics of the clan.

Right now, he held Sakura, and that was enough.

As he watched her stirring in her sleep, a fleeting sense of tenderness washed over him. Lowering his head, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, a brief, gentle gesture that carried within it the promise of his unwavering presence. When he pulled back, he noticed the faint smile that played on her lips—a sign that, at least for now, she had found some measure of peace.

"I love you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"I love you too, Sakura," he whispered, brushing a final kiss against her forehead. "Always."

As she slept soundly in his arms, Itachi felt a sense of resolve settle within him. There were challenges ahead, decisions that would need to be made carefully. But for now, none of that mattered. His focus was on keeping Sakura safe, keeping their child safe. Everything else could wait. And when the time came to face the world outside, he would be ready.

Notes:

Well, there you go lol. I did my best to convey all the feelings. I've always wondered about clan politics within Konoha, especially the Uchiha. I think Sakura's feelings would be valid in this situation. Let me know what you think!

PS: I have an outline of the epilogue, but it will take me a couple of weeks to write it.