Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Chapter 3: Ghosts from the Past

This can't be… This must be a dream… I'm going to wake up soon, and this will all be over.

But Sakura knew it wasn't a dream, knew it wasn't from the moment she heard that knocking on her door. Knew from the chakra surging through her body to get her to the clinic, from the harsh, iron coated scent of blood, and the painful throbbing of her heart in her chest. It just didn't make sense! Itachi had been killed by none other than his vengeful little brother! Sakura and her team had received the news themselves over five years ago! Sasuke finally got his revenge and the clan killer had been vanquished! Then why, why, was he lying before her, very much real and very much hurt?

It didn't make sense.

Just when her life was starting to settle down, be normal, this happened. Sakura wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to run and hide from that face she was staring at. Her memories of the powerful shinobi were not good ones. He had been the enemy. He had been the tormentor that took her precious Sasuke-kun away, turning him into a cold, calloused young man. Turning him to the likes of Orochimaru. That snake. She knew well he was dead, at least. But then again, she thought that Itachi was dead, too, and yet here he was.

"Sakura!?" Her name, called out harshly from Yanagi, shook her visibly. "Any day now!" The doctor and the other staff were watching her, some expressions frantic, some curious, some frustrated. Why was she hesitating? Usually she dove right in. Yanagi gave her the most interested stare, as if he could read her thoughts, running a hundred miles per hour through her head.

"Right, right! I'm sorry!"

She dove in.

Itachi was already too drugged to probably realize where he was anymore; to realize that he was a person dying on a medical bed in some little town. His eyes had finally slipped all the way closed as an IV pumped a light sedative into his system. Sakura was highly thankful for that. It was difficult enough to keep her composure with him simply being there. Having his gaze on her, too, would be too much to bear. Removing the towels that had been placed on his front to try and staunch the bleeding, Sakura winced at what we saw, then set to work.

Her tell-tale light flooded her hands and then bore into the bloodied mess. Past the most superficial damage of what she could tell to be a mix of jutsu and weapon damage, the internal damage was much worse. His left lung was punctured, the organs torn and battered and his breathing was wet with blood. It began to drip from the sides of his mouth. It wasn't there when she came in. Someone must've wiped it clean. His heartbeat was steady despite his condition for which Sakura was glad - she didn't need his heart beating as frantically as her own.

"Give her some space," she heard Yanagi say, and suddenly she felt much less crowded as the staff took a few steps back, watching as she worked.

First she staunched his bleeding to prevent any more external hemorrhaging. Airway next. She mended the puncture in his lung, rebuilding the tissue and redirecting the blood out of the tiny air sacs. After, she painstakingly stitched his visceral organs back together: a good nick on the right lobe of the liver. Gashes that tore open sections of his small intestine and colon. His spleen had been pierced through cleanly, the reticular tissue thankfully knitting back together without much prompting. Mesentery was repaired, muscle stitched with her healing ninjutsu, and fat and skin to follow. His limbs also bore large wounds. She had staunched their bleeds with clots to work on the main damage and now went back to mend the blood vessels and surrounding muscle and tissues more cleanly. She checked his head, searching the different layers of his skull's protective tissues for any hemorrhaging or swelling or noticeable genjutsu damage. He had none, though, and she was thankful. Working on the brain was far more delicate. Now and then she'd ask a nurse for something and they came rushing forward without hesitation. She wondered if they would be so willing to help this man if they knew just what he had done in life.

Why was she even helping him?

It was her duty as a medic to heal - heal anyone who needed it. It was better to save a life than to take it. But this man. This bastard. Did he deserve to live? It would be so easy to kill him. So simple. A quick cut of a major artery. Slice through a much needed nerve plexus. Or simply dissect his spinal cord. But she couldn't. Not like this, not while he was defenseless, unconscious, and as helpless as a babe. The villagers would suspect something was amiss, especially Yanagi. While she hadn't shared much about her past with him, she had revealed some of the methods of her ninjutsu. He was a smart man. She couldn't live with that guilt on her conscience.

Finally, Sakura was done after working for more than two solid hours on him. Back then, five years ago, she'd probably just be a little fatigued from a two hour session. Now she felt utterly exhausted. She swayed somewhat as she rose from her position on the bed alongside Itachi, and one nurse came forward to attempt to catch her should she fall.

"I'm fine. Thank you. I just… need to sit." Immediately she was ushered into a chair. "Well, he'll live. He'll need rest, though, and lots of it. Make sure you keep him sedated. His body still has healing to do on its own from the shock of such trauma."

"Ah, thank you, Sakura-sama. You are a lifesaver. This man will forever be in your debt," Yanagi praised her, gripping her shoulder gently and giving it a squeeze. Sakura tried not to think of the implications of what saving this man might mean in the near future.

"Yeah, no worries," she replied, her voice strained from exhaustion. She suddenly felt ravenous, like she hadn't eaten in days.

"You look like you saw a ghost when you first got here. Do you know this man?" Yanagi asked Sakura quietly as his staff approached their newest patient once more. Sakura's chest tightened at his inquiry.

"No… I don't," she lied to him. "I was just relieved, I guess, it was a stranger and not someone I loved." She frowned at that. "That made me sound terrible." Yanagi laughed at his younger colleague.

"No, no, I understand," he chuckled. "Go home and rest, Sakura-sama. You look like you could use it." She couldn't deny that much. Knowing Itachi would live, she reminded them again to keep him sedated. She had washed off as best she could before she left, but blood still stained her clothes. The villagers bombarded her with questions as soon as they saw her. News spread like wildfire in Hougyoku. It took much longer than usual to reach her home with all the inquiries she got. By the time she did she was utterly spent.

"So much for my trip," she mused at the sight of her bag still sitting on her table. After a quick shower and change, she collapsed on her bed and within moments dozed off…

Sakura slept hard for almost six hours before her growling stomach woke her. Visions of ravens and red clouds on black skies filled her mind as she dreamed. Instantly her thoughts went to Itachi once she was conscious. Again, so many questions filled her head.

What had happened to him? How was he still alive? How did he come to find Hougyoku? Did someone else bring him here? Did he bring himself? And why here, where she was now living? Of all the villages and towns in the region, why here? Sakura couldn't believe it to be a coincidence. It was too far fetched to her that Itachi, a former Akatsuki member, a former Leaf shinobi, got injured and came to the village that Sakura currently resided in out of coincidence.

Her head began to ache with all the ideas forming, and her stomach growled at her again.

"I feel like I could eat ten bowls of Ichiraku ramen and still have room for dessert," she moaned out, patting her stomach with a hand. Thoughts of the old ramen shop made her crave the food, so rather than mull through her pantry and fridge, she rolled out of bed, threw on something decent, and proceeded to make for the village's own noodle stand.

"News is you're a hero again, Sakura-san," the man who ran the ramen shop announced when Sakura came into his little shop, sitting down at one of the stools. Thankfully she was the only patron at the time. She could handle Nikoto, but she was too hungry to converse with a group.

"Ah, Nikoto-san," she laughed out as she plucked a pair of chopsticks from the jar on the counter. "I don't know about that."

"Nonsense," he retorted, beginning to make her usual bowl of preferred ramen. "You saved a man's life this morning! We should celebrate like when we did for Yoshen." He was referring to the man she saved that no one else could, when her true abilities had been revealed. "I'm sure he will be happy to be alive, to go back to his home and see his family and friends." Nikoto had his back to her so he didn't see Sakura purse her lips tightly together. She had a feeling Itachi had no place to go. And he certainly did not have any family to go home to, at least not blood related. Also, she didn't think he'd want a celebration.

Though she couldn't be certain of his business here, Sakura would bet money it wasn't to come find her so he could celebrate something, or try and revive his clan with her help, or any such whimsical fantasy. That thought caused her to grin to herself and she fought the urge to laugh. Yet, a thought entered her head again that she had pondered not for the first time since the morning, sobering her: what if he came to try and kill her? What if, by healing him, she had put the village, the region, in grave danger? The wounds he had received were clearly from a battle with other shinobi - shinobi of his caliber. It meant ninja were probably close to these lands. Close to the village.

She knew there were still rogue shinobi wandering about, searching for a new life. Many were probably friendly and would recognize her as Tsunade's apprentice. She knew she couldn't be the only one who had come this far north. It wouldn't surprise her if she found members of former Sand, Mist and the other hidden villages in the region. Like her, many probably wanted to lay low after the devastation Madara and the Akatsuki brought. To try and find some normalcy in life and live happily, like Sakura. There was the possibility, though, that brewing out there was another criminal, underground organization, wanting to restart, to gain control over the lands once more. Itachi was probably part of it, Sakura thought, and he was met with retaliation by those like her - former shinobi just trying to make it in life and outrun the ghosts of their past.

"Sakura-san?" Nikoto called her out from her thoughts and she blinked, unfocused eyes sharpening and darting to him. He chuckled and set down her ramen before her.

"Sorry," she grinned as she pierced the mess of noodles and stirred the steaming, delicious meal. "I'm still pretty tired," she explained, using her fatigue as an excuse to cover up her worry. The last thing she wanted to do was to get the town into a stir. They didn't need to know Itachi was a ninja. Two years and her presence hadn't caused a problem. She wanted to keep it that way. There was a reason why she adamantly told the clinic workers to keep him sedated: so he could not wake up and speak. Sakura had to be the first one to speak with him, alone, with no one else. She needed to get him to leave in peace, and if he gave her no other choice, she would kill him. Sakura would do whatever it took to protect Houyoku. To protect herself.

"No worries; eat up!" Sakura did just that, her mind wandering back and forth between Itachi and Nikoto as he rambled on to her about his recent trip to another ramen shop that was at the big city farther north of Hougyoku...

"We've kept him sedated, just as you said to, Sakura-sama," a nurse at the clinic informed her when she arrived. With her belly full and her body feeling better, Sakura had gone straight to the clinic. She thanked the nurse who looked as exhausted as she had felt earlier, and she told her to go home and rest. The nurse didn't have to be told twice. There were still two other staff present to watch over things.

Even though he was unconscious she still opened and closed the door of the room quietly out of habit. Mechanical beeping met her ears, the sound slow and steady and a welcome song to a medic. He had been changed into a fresh gown, all hints of blood washed away, even from his hair, and he was the most peaceful looking she had ever seen him. Mostly she remembered his face as being indifferent, as if nothing ever really interested him. She recalled that being something that enraged Sasuke the most. She couldn't blame him.

Sakura had never really had the opportunity to study his face until now. Each time she met him in the past she had been advised to watch his feet and never look him in the eyes lest she get trapped in a genjutsu. His resemblance to Sasuke was almost heart wrenching. Though, she had to admit, Itachi was prettier than his younger brother, for lack of a better term, there was no doubt that they had been related. The pallid skin, the ebony tresses, the color of their eyes whilst their sharingan was deactivated. These days, though, Itachi looked even more sleep deprived than normal, and thinner than she recalled. Nevertheless, she couldn't deny that he was a very attractive man. It seemed the Uchiha line only produced handsome men, destined for tragedy.

Looking upon the genius Uchiha prodigy was painful, for memories of Sasuke flooded her vision as she did. It sometimes hurt the most to think of the young, troubled man. They never could save him, never brought him back. That day she had gone herself to that bridge, had said she'd go to the ends of the earth with him, and to have him treat her like she was trash, felt like it happened yesterday, so vivid her memories were of it. He cared more about killing Danzo, about fulfilling crazy dreams, than to see how much he was hurting himself, how much he was hurting those he loved. Without realizing it, a tear streaked down her face. When had she started to cry? Reaching up she brushed it away and then set to work checking on her patient, making sure her work that morning hadn't been ruined. She was thinking too hard again about things that didn't need thought.

Now finished, she knew she couldn't leave yet, not until he woke. Itachi was their only overnight patient. Most nights the clinic was closed completely, and rarely did they have someone stay through the night. In an emergency someone went to Yanagi or another staff member, or like that morning, to Sakura. She headed out to the main room and told the other two staff to go home, that she could handle their patient on her own. Knowing that she could, they left shortly after, and Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. When his dose of sedative needed to be administered again she held it. She needed him to wake up. She needed to talk. His injuries had been bad but she had seen much, much worse in her time as a medic-nin. Waking him now would be hard on him, but she knew Itachi was a tough bastard. He'd be able to handle it.

A dull ache, and a perpetual beeping, pulled him out of his slumber. It was distant at first, like he was hearing it from far, far away, muted by many leagues. Slowly it grew louder, as if he had cotton stuffed into his ears that was being removed at a snail's pace. He found that all he could do was lay there, though, and listen. Those limbs of his that were usually very much responsive felt like they were made of lead. He couldn't move his body. It wouldn't listen. Not even his fingers twitched at his beckon, and opening his eyes was such a strain, he thought maybe they were glued shut and he abandoned the act altogether.

While he couldn't move, he could at least hear, smell, and sense his surroundings as his muddled mind became sharper with the passing minutes. As he laid there, memories of a fight, of pain and blood, filled his mind as his mind slowly sharpened. He didn't have to guess as to where he was. It was obvious that he was in some sort of hospital type establishment. It only made sense. That tell-tale beeping of the monitors was a dead giveaway, and there was a sterile aroma on the air that he instantly associated with 'Hospital'. Another faint scent that he could not place at the moment, still too groggy, tickled his nose. He gave up on trying to place it after a few minutes. He was starting to sense other things as the minutes ticked by. The distant signs of life, of people and animals. Also, the presence of someone not so distant: he wasn't alone in the room. More minutes passed and his nose could now detect that wayward aroma: something feminine. Not pungent like perfume, but subtle, and sweet, like maybe shampoo. He didn't sense movement from whoever the woman, or girl, or whoever it was, nor did he hear any indication of them being up and about, just quiet, slow, rhythmic breathing.

With a strain he did not think possible, Itachi finally opened his eyelids. Thankfully the room was only dimly lit so his sensitive eyes were not bombarded by the harsh fluorescence. White ceiling met his vision, blurry at first, but coming into better focus after. At least, as focused as his eyes could achieve. Slowly, he allowed his gaze to wander. Walls, door, cabinets, machines, lamps, woman… He let his gaze linger on her. She was slouched down in a chair, looking extremely uncomfortable. Her neck was cricked to the side, cheek pressed against her shoulder. Hair that he remembered being short was now long and spilled down her front, tickling her lap in a pool of pink. Her face was still youthful, but she was much more mature now, her features more refined. No longer an adolescent but an adult. She was dressed like a civilian and not a shinobi. It was all totally at odds with his memories of her. The most fitting thing was that she was still in the medical field, true to her training he, and most every shinobi, knew she endured under the Slug Princess's mentoring.

As he observed her, the clip board that was perched precariously in her lap slowly began to slip and finally made its descent to the floor. The clatter of the item against the tiled floor was loud in the silence of the room. She awoke with a start, her entire body flinching, and she sat up with a look of utter annoyance on her sleep riddled face. She began to bend down and retrieve the item until she saw his eyes glued to her. Hand stretched out towards the ground, it remained frozen in air with the rest of her body. If he had more energy he would have laughed at how comical she looked then, unsure of how to react, unsure of what to say. But he knew she had much to say, had much to ask him, and he knew it was only a matter of time until the questions and accusations would all come spewing out like water from a burst dam. With a deep breath, he prepared himself for the onslaught.

Sakura had rehearsed what she was going to say once Itachi was awake, but suddenly her mind went blank now that the moment of truth was here. She found it hard to think with him staring at her, and for a moment she wondered if she had been put into a genjutsu. How long had he been watching her for? How long had she been asleep? Her neck and body were both sore from her uncomfortable position in the chair, so she guessed for a while. The clock was on the wall behind her, out of her current line of sight, and the thought implored her to look, but she was frozen, eyes unable to move from Itachi. He looked indifferent once more now that he was awake, but even in his drugged state she knew that mind was working, gears turning. Just what was he thinking? Perhaps why he was still alive, maybe, knowing that he was in her care. She knew he knew her. Knew she was Tsunade's student and Sasuke's former teammate. Knew she had been Naruto's friend, Sasori's killer alongside Chiyo, and that she could have easily taken his life if she so wished. But she hadn't.

"Haruno Sakura." He finally spoke. His voice she remembered being as smooth as silk sounded harsh from a dry throat. She realized he wasn't asking to confirm who she was, but rather, he was greeting her. She could only nod at him. "You healed me." It was not a question and she could only nod again. He didn't proceed to thank her, and she didn't expect him to. It was then that he started to gain more control over his body - she saw one of his hands give the slightest of twitches. She had contemplated on restraining him but decided against it. He was in such a weak state it would be easy for her to subdue him. Eventually she sat straight again, but still said nothing to him, her mind racing with thoughts but her mouth unable to articulate the words. Itachi finally took it upon himself to break the growing silence.

"How long have I been-"

"You're supposed to be dead." The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. Itachi blinked. She couldn't tell if it was his way of showing annoyance at being interrupted, or if his muddled mind was trying to decipher the words. When he didn't respond right away, she continued. "You… Sasuke-kun killed you. I…" she paused, and just watched her silently, perhaps unsure as to how to answer her. At last she looked away from him, letting her head fall back slightly as she looked up at the ceiling, trying to collect herself. "I don't understand." Her brows furrowed together and she let out a short breath of a laugh. "You're supposed to be dead, Itachi-san." Even despite his criminal status she regarded him with respect. "Yet, here you are… Why did you come here?" The imploring look she gave him expressed all her worry, all her confusion, raw and real. How she wanted, needed to know. "I know this can't be coincidence," she added with a wave of her hand, referring to his being there, to her having healed him.

What he said shocked her. They were the last words she expected him to say:

"I need your help."