Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As she exited the hospital, Sakura eyed the Anbu guards positioned on either side of the doors. They were tall. Imposing. Their armour was stamped on each shoulder with the Uchiha crest, and when she passed by, she caught a glimpse of their Sharingan through the eyeholes of their masks.

She shook her head, fighting off shivers. 

Don't let them get to you. They’re just doing their job. 

But the thought was only mildly reassuring, as Sakura knew that they were watching her... monitoring her. After all, who could trust her now? Her association with Tsunade had left her on thin ice.  

She made her way in the direction of the Hokage Tower, clutching her medic satchel and deftly avoiding the gazes of the officers patrolling the streets.

Keep your head down, she reminded herself when a pair of red eyes landed on her. But of course, Sakura wasn't one for staying quiet. She lifted her chin and stared right back.

‘Going somewhere, Haruno?’

Look at what you've done.

‘Hokage-sama's office, Uchiha-san.’

The officer's expression hardened. ‘That's Uchiha-sama to you.’

The words slipped out on their own. ‘Of course. Forgive me, Uchiha-san.’

Seriously? It's like you're trying to get yourself thrown in jail.

‘You know, Haruno,’ the officer sneered, ‘you’re lucky you're not dog food by now.’

Sakura smiled, because why not? She had already dug herself into a hole. Why not dig her own grave whilst she was at it?

‘That's interesting,’ she said boldly, taking a step forward. ‘Perhaps you should arrest me right now, and the next time you land yourself in hospital, I won't be around to heal you. We'll see who's dog food then.’

The officer just stared at her, calculating. 

‘Careful, Haruno.’ His voice dropped to a low tone, and without another word, he walked away. 

Once he had disappeared from view, Sakura took a deep breath to calm her anger. She needed to keep a lid on her temper, but that was much easier said than done, especially when it came to those stupid patrol officers who were just waiting for any excuse to arrest her. She tried to put it out of her mind as she made a beeline towards the Hokage Tower.

Itachi had been standing atop of the village wall, collecting data from the head of security, when he noticed the commotion down below. It didn't take long to locate the source of the disruption. Pink hair. A doctor's lanyard.

Haruno-san.

It seemed she was causing trouble with a nin on patrol. Itachi raised an eyebrow when she took a step closer to the officer, presumably to threaten him.

Silly girl, he thought, that quick tongue will be her downfall.

‘Itachi-sama?’

Itachi directed his attention back to the head of security. ‘Yes?’

‘That’s all the data we've gathered. May I be dismissed?’

Itachi nodded, and the man retreated back to his station. Many similar stations ran at various intervals across the tops of the village walls, each occupied by at least one shinobi. None of this seemed necessary to him. Although the village had been in a precarious situation during and immediately after the coup, but it had been seventeen years since then. If enemy villages wanted to attack, they would have tried already.

He glanced once more at the security shinobi using their Sharingan to scour the forests for suspicious movement. Lips pressed into a grim line, Itachi began to make his way to the Hokage Tower to deliver the data he had collected.

This is not what Shisui would have wanted.

Sakura had no memories of the Hokage Tower prior to the Coup. Perhaps it had looked the same back then, with panelled walls and winding corridors. As for the oppressive atmosphere… she imagined it was very different back when the Third Hokage was alive. 

She approached the main office, flashing her badge at the Anbu guards stationed outside. There were muffled voices from within, causing her to hesitate. After a moment’s pause, she rapped on the door. If it were anything truly confidential they would have placed a seal on the room. Sure enough, the voices stopped.

"Come in."

As she entered, she first met the dark gaze of her teammate’s older brother, Uchiha Itachi. And then she turned to bow politely at the Hokage, Uchiha Fugaku.

‘Hokage-sama.’

Fukagu was sitting behind his desk with a document in his hand. ‘Haruno Sakura.’

‘You summoned me,’ she said.

Itachi was studying her. ‘Would you like me to leave?’ he asked his father.

Fugaku shook his head. ‘No need.’ He turned to her expectantly. ‘I understand that you lost one of your patients recently. The funeral was this morning.’

Searching his gaze for sympathy or emotion, she understood what he was truly asking and reached into her satchel to pull out the jar. Suspended in liquid, a pair of eyes glowed red with the Sharingan. Holding the glass delicately between her fingers, she approached Fugaku's desk.

He took it from her hands, assessing the Sharingan inside. ‘Uchiha Haruka. She will be missed.’ 

Will she? Sakura wondered. Certainly not by you. 

‘Take these to the safe,’ he instructed Itachi. ‘You know what to do.’

‘Yes, Hokage-sama,’ he murmured. It was almost undetectable, and could be easily explained by grief for his lost clanswoman, but for a moment, Sakura detected a note of bitterness, as if his own words burned his tongue.

Maybe he hates having to be so formal to his father. 

Itachi had almost passed her on his way to the door when he paused. ‘Haruno-san?’

‘Yes?’

‘Whilst I respect your efforts in the hospital, and I'm grateful for the number of times you've saved my baby brother's life, I suggest that you refrain from agitating the local patrol officers.’

Sakura’s jaw slackened a little. He must have witnessed her little tit-for-tat earlier.

‘What happened?’ Fugaku's voice darkened considerably. A wave of dread washed over her as Itachi recounted what he had seen.

‘The officer started it,’ she blurted out.

Itachi raised an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps he did, but your reaction only exacerbated the situation.’

‘It won't happen again,’ she insisted. ‘It really won’t this time.’ 

Itachi’s bored expression spoke volumes. He clearly didn't believe her. But before she could say anything further, he slipped out of the room carrying the jar with Uchiha Haruka’s eyes. 

‘Haruno.’

She flinched. Fugaku was stone cold. He had never particularly liked her, partially because she had started out as the “weak” teammate hindering Sasuke’s progress, but mostly due to the fact that her shishou was part Senju, and therefore an enemy to the Uchiha clan. At the very least, Fugaku had always tolerated her. However, right at this moment, Sakura thought that if looks could kill she would be ashes already.

‘Hokage-sama?’

‘I will not accept or stand for this behaviour,’ he said. ‘Do you know why you're walking free at all?’

She swallowed. ‘Because I'm Sasuke-kun's teammate?’

‘Wrong.’

Sakura's hands began to tremble, and she bunched them into fists. She couldn't let him see her fear.

‘Hokage-sama?’

‘Because you're an excellent medic.’

Well, that’s not quite what I was expecting.

‘Your skills in medicine are beyond compare. Even if you learned from that…’ his eyes bled red. ‘That woman.’

Sakura couldn’t work out whether he was threatening or flattering her. ‘Thank you?’

‘It was not a compliment.’

Oh… wasn’t it?

‘That,’ he said, ‘is the only reason why you have not been thrown into a cell for disobedience and treason.’

Fugaku’s Sharingan twisted, spiralling in a hypnotic veil of black and red. 

Sakura froze. A jolt of electric fear shot down the back of her neck, her heart jittering wildly.

No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't use his dojutsu right now, would he?

There were so many terrible genjutsu out there, many with awful long-lasting effects. Victims barely recovered from psychological trauma, if they ever recovered at all. And judging by the look on Fugaku's face, he wouldn’t hesitate to use his eyes to keep her in her place should he desire.

‘You shouldn’t take advantage of your situation,’ he said. ‘After all, there are plenty of other promising medics.’

Sakura nodded, staring at the ground as she tried to focus on her breathing.

‘You are dismissed, Haruno.’

Itachi set Haruka's eyes on a shelf alongside rows of identical jars. The walk-in safe was hidden deep in the basement of the Hokage Tower and only a trusted few had clearance to enter it. It was hardly small, consisting of several spacious rooms and, but every time Itachi stepped in here he could feel the true weight of his clan. Endless jars of eyes stared at him, their Sharingan flaring in the darkness of his life. 

The safe was originally used to secure forbidden scrolls and books. However, ever since the Uchiha's ascension, it was used as a safekeeping for the Sharingan of lost comrades. There was only one reason Itachi could think of as to why his father would go to such lengths to secure their clan's dojutsu. 

Paranoia.

The curse. It’s corrupted him entirely.

Itachi took one last glance at Haruka's eyes before exiting the safe, making sure to listen for the series of clicks as the locks slid into place. He had never truly known Haruka. She was an old acquaintance of his mother's, but that was all he knew of her. He exited the Hokage Tower soon after, squinting as the sunlight hit his face.

I'm sure Mother is devastated after the funeral. Perhaps I should pick up some flowers from—

A hand gripped his shirt as he was swung around and slammed against the outer wall of the Hokage Tower. His fingers closed around the wrist of his attacker, intending to snap it and use the brief distraction to grab a kunai from his pouch.

‘Don't even think about it, Uchiha.’

He relaxed at the familiar voice, finding himself face to face with none other than a furious Haruno Sakura.

‘Sakura-san,’ he said. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’

‘Shut up.’ Her grip tightened on his shirt. ‘You ratted me out back there.’

Itachi tried not to smile at the fact that he was being held at the scruff by a woman who was almost a foot shorter than him.

’I was simply fulfilling my duties.’ When she didn't seem to know how to respond, he added, ‘I don't see any issue with this matter.’

‘No issue?’ She hissed. ‘I can't believe you! Because of you, your father just threatened me with incarceration!"

Itachi sighed. ‘He has no intention of doing such a thing.’

She finally released him, stepping back as though she was disgusted by his presence. It was almost amusing. 

‘Oh yeah? That's not what he told me after you left.’

‘Despite what he tells you, he won’t go to those lengths.’ 

‘Why? Because I'm a medic?’ she said. ‘Sorry to cut to the chase but he made it pretty clear that I'm replaceable.’

‘Yes and no.’ Itachi's patience was wearing thin. ‘It's true that you're the best medic in Konoha, and without you our clan would be dwindling. But he can’t touch you. You're a well respected member of the village, to both civilians and shinobi alike.’

Itachi said no more. He could see the cogs turning in her brain as she tried to piece together the meaning behind his words. Without giving her a chance to respond, he slid past her.

‘If you'll excuse me, I have more important matters to deal with.’

‘Hold on a second!’ she called, but he didn't turn. According to Sasuke, she was a smart girl. He was sure she could figure things out by herself.

Itachi stopped once at the Yamanaka flower shop to purchase three purple tulip stems, then headed out to the cemetery where Haruka’s grave was easily identifiable by the fresh bouquets of white flowers strewn across the stone. Gently, he set one of his three tulips on top of the pile of flowers. The vibrant purple stood out against the mass of white funeral lilies.

He then slipped through the graves until he found the one that read “Uchiha Izumi”. Unlike Haruka’s, Izumi's grave was devoid of flowers. He used to find bouquets and cards from her mother, but this stopped three years ago. He wasn't sure of the reason, but Itachi suspected that her mother had either passed away herself or had truly come to terms with the fact that her daughter was never coming back. After Izumi's death, he had cut all ties with her family. Things were better that way; Itachi couldn't face the prospect of visiting a house filled with so many memories.

After laying down the second tulip, he moved on. He stopped at a familiar grave beneath a blossom tree and collapsed to his knees, head bowed.

‘Shisui.’ He rested the final tulip at the base of the stone. ‘I don't know what to do.’

He recalled his father’s words, right before Sakura had interrupted their meeting.

‘I can’t remain as Hokage forever. It’s been seventeen years, Itachi.’

At that moment, he hadn't been able to give an answer. He had only stared at his father's desk and prayed that the subject would disappear. But now, kneeling before Shisui’s grave, he could finally speak his mind. 

‘He wants me as the next Hokage. I'm glad, Shisui. It gives me a chance to change things. I might be able to continue what we started seventeen years ago.’ He paused. 'But that's also the problem… How am I supposed to convince the rest of the village that I can be trusted? That I’m not the same as my father? Even if I try to change my father’s laws, I’ll have no support from other shinobi. I don't know how to change things.’

He hunched over, pressing his forehead against the cool gravestone.

‘And then there's the Uchiha clan. They’re too consumed by their own hatred, they might retaliate if I don't uphold my father's beliefs. Shisui, what should I do?’

While Itachi didn't expect a response, the breeze that brushed through his hair was comforting, and the whisper of the blossom branches above his head filled the empty silence.

Something soft landed on the back of his neck. He reached behind him and grasped whatever it was that tickled his skin. An intact cherry blossom. He examined it, then peered up at the branches arching over the graveside. 

Slowly and silently, an idea dawned on him.

‘I understand now, Shisui.’

Chapter Text

Sakura skidded in the dirt. Summoning chakra to her foot, she thrust her leg forward in a powerful kick. There was a crunch as her sandal collided with Sasuke's ribs. He stumbled back wildly, clutching at his chest.

‘Break his ribs, Sakura-chan!’ Naruto shouted from the edge of the training grounds. 

‘Hush, Naruto.’ 

Kakashi was leaning against a tree next to him, more focused on his Icha Icha book than on the spar happening just metres away. 

‘Who’s side are you on? The bastard deserves it for ditching me with the bill at Ichiraku!’

Kakashi's single eye narrowed, but he paid no mind to Naruto’s exuberant shouts. The empty socket of his other eye was covered by his forehead protector. Sakura had only ever seen it during his routine check-ups. She didn't know the story behind it and Kakashi never seemed willing to share, so she didn't dare ask.

Naruto continued to shake his fists, ignoring the occasional glance from Kakashi. ‘You got this, Sakura-chan!’ He yelled. ‘Pound his Uchiha ass!’

Admittedly, Sakura had tuned out most of Naruto's interference. She couldn't afford any distractions. Not when Sasuke almost immediately regained his stance. He jumped several feet away – a move that Sakura didn't like. Of course, he knew that she was a close-range fighter, and so long as he kept his distance, she couldn't land a finger on him. But that didn't mean that she was in the dark about his plan. He would either use a genjutsu, a katon jutsu, or a shiruken jutsu. She grinned when his eyes flashed red.

Sasuke-kun doesn't realise how predictable he is.

It came as no surprise when the grass and trees of the training grounds began to twist, the landscape morphing into a devastated battlefield. The earth split and cracked, and the only trees left standing were swathed in flames.

Genjutsu.

She sighed and made the seal to dispel the illusion, but the word – 'kai' – never came. She stood there, unable to move, as she pieced together the scene around her.

Bodies, if one could still call them bodies. They were unrecognisable in the carnage of missing limbs… decapitated heads with eyeballs gorged from their sockets… blood spray coating the grass wherever she looked. And screams. Endless screams of pain, of fear. Screams of "Katon-no-jutsu!"

Sakura didn't dare close her eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to keep them open either. Her chest was heavy and each breath came hard and fast, but somehow it just wasn't enough. She needed to move. She needed to dispel the illusion.

But it wasn’t an illusion. Not really.

Do it now!

Her eyes watered, throat constricting. The hurricane of shrieks and moans swirled around her, growing louder and closer with every second that passed. They drowned her head with cries and wails. And there was the smell. The headiness of black smoke, blazed buildings, hot metal… burning flesh.

Make the seal!

She clenched her eyes shut. Her hands shook as her fingers formed the seal. 

‘Kai,’ she croaked.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt the cool edge of a kunai against her throat.

‘I win.’ Sasuke's deep voice sounded from over her shoulder.

Kakashi walked toward them, his eye crinkling as he smiled. ‘Well done, Sasuke.’ 

Sakura stared at the training grounds. The grass was fresh and green where only moments ago it had been stained red. How could it disappear so easily? 

She could hear Naruto cheering from the sidelines as Sasuke made a noise of satisfaction and pulled back his kunai, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the grounds. Flames were still licking the trees, and that godawful smell of blood. The smell was nauseating. Even when she blinked, nothing had changed. 

Nothing had changed at all. 

It's not real. It's not real.

‘Sakura-chan!’ Naruto approached her. ‘You were so cool!’

‘Hmm…Sakura?' Kakashi was staring at her. Naruto tilted his head in confusion.

‘Sakura?’ 

Sasuke’s eyes searched her face. As he put his shiruken away, his fingers accidentally brushed her arm.

She ripped her body away from his, falling back several paces.

I just can't... I can’t be here! Her thoughts raced back and forth. Why would he use a genjutsu like that?

Naruto shoved past Sasuke. ‘Sakura-chan, what's the matter?’

As soon as Naruto reached out to touch her, Sakura formed the seal for a transportation jutsu. In a burst of smoke she was gone, leaving her teammates confused over what had just happened. 

Itachi leapt from rooftop to rooftop, a scroll in his hand. All morning he had been forced to attend endless meetings. Amongst other concerns, Tsunade, Sakura’s old mentor and Hashirama’s granddaughter, had been sighted in a civilian village along the border of the Land of Hot Water. And now his father was determined to send his finest Anbu out to locate and apprehend her. 

Itachi tried not to sneer.

Arrested for nothing more than being a Senju.

Not that they would have any success in finding Tsunade, let alone apprehending her. Time after time they had sent squads out to catch her, and time after time she had evaded arrest. Still, he couldn't help but wonder how Haruno Sakura would react to the capture of her old mentor.

Sakura-san…

Itachi stopped on the roof of a grocery shop and opened the scroll he was carrying. He made a seal and a bouquet of narcissus burst from the paper. He had almost purchased a bouquet of roses, but changed his mind as he remembered a time when his mother set a jug of narcissus on the kitchen table and the sweet scent of the flowers had filled the entire room. Roses simply paled in comparison.

Taking the paper tag attached to the bouquet, Itachi fished a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down a quick note. He had only ever done this once before. And even though it had been many years since then, and he knew Izumi would understand, he couldn't ignore the guilt that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Izumi, I'm sorry…

Sakura reappeared in her living room and immediately collapsed onto the couch. Her whole body turned cold as memories flooded her mind.

One minute she was in her family’s back yard, stringing cosmos chains with Ino, the next she was buried under a pile of rubble as her neighbourhood was burned to ash. She had been seven years old, a kunoichi in-training. She understood how to wield a kunai, how to accurately launch shiruken, how to form simple seals. But when her home exploded in wave of fire and glass, all of the Academy's lessons had flown straight out the window along with the fragments of her father's skull. She knew when the initial blast hit that her father was dead. It was only later, after finding a single bloodied eyeball staring at her from what used to be the kitchen floor, that she realised her mother had joined him. 

Something banged on her living room window. 

Sakura jumped. She glanced around, scrambling for a kunai as she told herself over and over that she was in the living room of her apartment, and not the remains of her childhood home.

There was another bang, although gentler this time.

Just outside the window, a large crow was perched on the ledge. She looked at it, puzzled. The crow was unfamiliar. She didn't recognise it as anybody's summons, yet there was a small scroll attached to its leg.

‘How do I know you don't belong to an enemy?’

It stared at her for a moment before tilting its head.

She sighed. ‘Fine then, but I'll have you know that I have traps all over this place. One wrong move and you're nothing but feathers.’

The crow just blinked. Hesitantly, she walked over to the window and opened it. The crow hopped forward and immediately began nuzzling its head in her palm. Perhaps it was a friendly crow after all.

‘You're a strange one,’ she said, stroking its feathers. ‘Summons don't normally trust people they've never met, and I'm pretty sure I've never seen you before.’ 

With one hand, she untied the scroll from the crow's leg and sat once more on her couch. She kept the kunai close to hand, just in case. Even though this summons was friendly, it wasn’t worth the risk. 

‘Remember, no funny stuff,’ she warned the crow, before peeling back the paper.

There was a puff of smoke as a bouquet of flowers appeared on her coffee table.

‘What the…’

A sweet smell invaded Sakura’s senses. She was no floristry expert like Ino, but she’d picked up her fair share of knowledge. These were tiny paperwhite narcissus, and Sakura remembered Ino pointing them out to her when they were children. Just like normal daffodils, they were symbolic of new beginnings and hope. Sakura had decided right then and there that they were her new favourite flower, but Ino just laughed and told her that they were also associated with narcissism. Narcissism or otherwise, they smelled delightful.

The crow had now flown across the room and was sitting beside the bouquet. ‘Whose summons are you, and why are they giving me flowers?’ She asked it.

The crow pecked at something hidden underneath the flowers. 

Huh?

Sakura reached under the flowers and retrieved the paper tag that was tied delicately to a green stem. The writing on it was unfamiliar.

Haruno Sakura-san,

I do hope that you enjoy these. If they are not to your satisfaction, please tell Kin and I will find a more suitable alternative.

There was no name. No signature. Nothing. 

Sakura didn't know what to make of this. She considered calling Ino for advice, but on second thought, Ino would probably screech about how cute it is to have a secret admirer. She shuddered at the thought. Telling Ino was the worst possible thing she could do. Thinking hard, she looked at the crow curiously.

‘So I guess you're Kin, hm? You don't look very golden.’

Kin affectionately brushed his head against her hand.

She wanted to ask Kin who his mystery summons was, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door. The chakra signature was instantly recognisable, and it hummed with uncertainty in the hall outside. She stood from the couch and made her way to the door, opening it a crack. Sasuke's dark eyes stared back at her.

‘What do you want?’

‘To apologise.’ His voice was toneless, but Sakura knew him well. He had always kept his emotions guarded. ‘I shouldn't have used that genjutsu.’

‘No,’ she replied, ‘you shouldn't have.’

‘That genjutsu, it's different for everyone,’ he said.

When she didn’t reply, he ran a hand across the back of his head. He was getting desperate now. 

‘It plays on the person's fears,’ he explained, choosing his words carefully. ’Everyone has different fears. Most people are afraid of spiders or heights. I didn't think… I don't actually know what you saw, but obviously it was a mistake.’

Sakura chewed on her lip. Really, she wanted to slam the door in his face, to slap him with all of her frustration, to get mad. But this was Sasuke. He would never say the two words “I'm sorry”. This was the closest he’d get. 

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘but next time you use a jutsu like that on me, I'll castrate you.’

His face revealed nothing, but his chakra flickered with wariness. Sakura opened the door wider and he slipped into her apartment. 

‘I'll make some tea,’ she said, leading him into the living room as she wandered into the kitchen. She was pulling out her selection of teas when she asked, ‘Do you want green tea or jasmine?’ 

There was no answer. 

‘Sasuke-kun?’

Abandoning the packs of tea leaves on the kitchen counter, she wandered back into the living room. 

‘Sasuke-kun?’  

He was standing by the door, staring at Kin with confusion. But then his gaze lowered to the bouquet, more specifically, the paper tag. His expression changed. The confusion was still there, but there was something else too.

‘What's wrong?’ she asked.

He scowled at the bouquet on the coffee table. ‘Sakura, why is my brother sending you flowers?’

Her mind crashed to a halt.

The flowers are from Itachi-san? But why? Is it something to do with me yelling at him yesterday?

‘These are from your brother?’ She glanced between the bouquet and Kin, who was watching on silently.

‘That's my brother's handwriting,’ he said, gesturing to the paper tag. Then he raised his eyes to Kin. ’And that is my brother's crow.’

Sakura suddenly felt the need to sit down. She perched on the arm of the couch, trying to process the bomb that Sasuke had just dropped on her. Why would Itachi do this? Was it to screw with her head? Perhaps out of revenge for calling him an ass? But then, flowers didn’t have anything to do with revenge. 

Sasuke eyed Sakura. ‘Is there something going on between you two?’ 

Sakura shook her head. ‘Not at all. I barely speak to him, and when I do it’s usually when I've been to your house looking for you.’

Some of the wariness left Sasuke's expression, but he didn't seem to trust her words. ‘I'll go talk to him,’ he said, turning away.

‘No.’ Sakura stood and picked up the bouquet. ‘I appreciate it, Sasuke-kun, but I can deal with things myself. I'll talk to him.’

Sasuke looked unsure, but eventually gave a curt nod. ‘At this time, he’s usually in his office in the Hokage Tower.’

She thanked him and left with the bouquet in hand.

Itachi wasn't the least bit surprised when he picked up on the chakra signature hovering outside his office. The signature paced back and forth in the hallway before coming to a stop along the opposite wall. At times it flared in anger, but mostly it hummed, nervous.

‘Sakura-san, you're potentially scaring away those who might want to visit me,’ he called out.

The signature froze. It thrummed, unsure, and made a move to enter before hesitating once again. He tapped on his desk impatiently. 

‘I have no intention of carrying on this conversation through the door.’ 

Finally, she entered. Although they both knew she had been lurking outside, too anxious to come in, she held her chin high and stood with her back straight.

She's got a good sense of pride.

Itachi felt a glimmer of respect for the girl standing confidently before him. That was until she set a familiar bouquet of narcissus down on his desk. 

‘What are these?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Surely I don't need to tell you what flowers are, do I?’ 

Sakura looked at him pointedly. Perhaps she wasn’t in the mood for teasing remarks. 

‘What do you think they are for, Sakura-san?’

‘Stop answering my question with more questions,’ she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. ‘One of your pets delivered these to me this morning. Why?’ 

‘Kin is not a pet,’ he corrected her.

‘Fine. A summon then.’

‘He is not merely a summon. He is a friend.’

‘Is that to compensate for your lack of human friends?’

Itachi's expression hardened. He didn’t appreciate the snide comment, but it was clear from her expression of mild panic that she had spoken without thinking, and if anything, was now seriously regretting her choice of words. 

‘Luckily for you, I was well aware of your inability to hold your tongue,’ he said, coolly. ‘You didn't come here to make petty remarks.’

‘No,' she said. ‘I didn’t.'

‘You wish to understand why I sent Kin to deliver you a bouquet of flowers.’

It was not a question, but she nodded.

He considered sealing his office with a jutsu. The room was secure even without the extra measures, and he doubted that anyone would risk being caught eavesdropping. But if there was something he learned from Shisui's death, it was that he couldn’t afford to take any chances.

‘This conversation,’ he said, ’is not for a place like this.’

He grabbed her forearm and before she had time to react, transported them to a grassy clearing in a place he knew all too well. Battered dummies were pinned to trees, the trunks and limbs of which were scored all over with shiruken marks. Sakura was looking all around, taking in the scene.

Of course, this area is unfamiliar to her.

‘Where are we?’ 

‘We are in the training grounds of my clan's original compound.’

She whirled around to face him. ‘By 'original', you mean the old compound at the edge of the village.’

‘Yes.'

‘The one your family lived in before…'

‘Before the coup, yes,’ he said. ‘I used to train here. And it is here that I helped Sasuke with his training. As I'm sure you already know, the compound was abandoned when my father became Hokage. The Uchiha clan did not want to be reminded of how the Senju cast them out.’

Sakura frowned at him. ‘Why did you bring me here? And what does any of this have to do with the flowers?’

Itachi took a deep breath.

Forgive me, Izumi.

‘Sakura-san, I wish for your hand in marriage.’

Chapter Text

Sakura stared at him as though he had just sprouted a third arm.

‘I'm sorry, what did you say?’

‘I am asking for your hand in marriage,’ repeated Itachi.

Her face had drained of colour. ‘Are you insane?’

‘No,’ he replied.

‘Did you hit your head recently?’

‘My head is perfectly fine, thank you.’

She shook her head, half-smiling as though this was an obvious prank. ‘This is a joke, right? It has to be. You're not actually asking me to… to marry you?"

Itachi didn't answer. He was starting to become irritated by her ridiculous questions, and simply decided to wait, stone faced, until the reality of his statement had sunk in. And soon enough, it did. She dropped the bouquet of Narcissus on the grass, shaking her head slowly. 

‘You barely even know me. You realise that this is probably the most we've ever spoken, discounting yesterday?’

‘Yes, I'm aware.’

‘Then why?’ 

Her eyes were wide with uncertainty. Of course, she didn’t trust him. After what he had done, why would she? In her mind, he was just as power hungry and egotistical as the rest of his clan. 

Itachi glanced around at the original Uchiha training grounds. He wasn't sure exactly how much she already knew about their village's political history, but it was time he made things clearer to her. Soon, she would understand.

‘Sakura-san, what do you know of the events of the coup d'état seventeen years ago? More specifically, the political influences behind it?’

The question seemed to throw her off. 

‘Not much,’ she said. ‘I was seven at the time so I don't really remember about the tension between the clans. I only know what Tsunade-shishou told me."

He couldn't help but notice how her hand flinched. She shouldn't have referred to her old tutor as 'shishou' in front of him. And judging by the look on her face, she was expecting him to reprimand her. Luckily for her, he didn't really care about her old affiliations. It wasn't a surprise that Tsunade would have filled in as many gaps as she could before her communication with Sakura was discovered. Itachi knew very little about the finer details of their relationship.

As far as he understood, Sakura first encountered Tsunade during a mission when she was thirteen. During Sakura's missions from then on out, the two would communicate through summons and Tsunade would track her down and teach her everything she knew. But their partnership wasn’t destined to last. 

Itachi had been present when a sixteen year old Sakura returned from a mission, only to be apprehended by Anbu at the village gates. He had been present when she was cuffed and thrown into an interrogation cell, and when she passed out in her chakra restraints after being subjected to interrogation. And he had been present when it was revealed that Sakura, in fact, knew nothing of Tsunade being a member of the Senju clan.

According to Sasuke, Sakura was rather guarded about her relationship with her mentor, however it was clear that Tsunade had been the main source of Sakura’s medical training. As for what Tsunade had taught her outside of their training, it was anyone’s guess.

‘And what exactly did she tell you?’ he asked.

Sakura eyed him warily. ‘Why do you need to know?’

‘Because if I’m to explain my actions, it’s necessary for your full understanding.’ When Sakura still didn't look convinced, he sighed deeply. ‘Please bear with me, Sakura-san. I have no ill will toward your mentor.’

She nodded reluctantly. Although she seemed to accept his plea, traces of suspicion still lurked in her expression.

‘Fine then,’ she said. ‘She told me that Hashirama, the First Hokage, had been close with Uchiha Madara. Their relationship was kind of like brothers, but the tensions between their clans split them apart. Hashirama's younger brother, the Second Hokage, didn't trust the Uchiha like Hashirama did, and he shunned them and relocated their compound to the edge of the village where they were under constant surveillance.’

Itachi nodded. This was all in the history books at the Academy. Many years ago they had all been edited to focus on the sufferings of the Uchiha clan.

'Did she tell you anything of the events leading up to the coup itself?’

‘I remember her telling me that the Third Hokage and the village elders had a plan to combat the coup, but the Uchiha clan struck before they could put their plan into action.’ 

‘Correct.’ 

Sakura shrugged, peering around at the marred trees with a vague sadness. ’The Third Hokage and the elders are all dead though. Nobody knows what they were going to do and it’s not like we can turn back time.’

‘I do.’

‘Hm?’

‘I know of the plan established by the council and the Third Hokage.’

‘What was it?’ she asked uneasily. ‘What was the plan?’

‘They intended to have the Uchiha clan exterminated before the Coup could take place.’

Sakura gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘Exterminated? No,’ she mumbled, ‘That can’t be true...there's no way the Third Hokage would… would he?’

‘He agreed to it,’ Itachi said. ‘With persuasion, of course. The plan detailed that a single shinobi would dispose of the Uchiha within one evening and then live out the rest of their life as a missing nin, taking full responsibility for the carnage.’

In her silence, he could feel her her silently pleading for him to deny everything, to tell her that he was playing a cruel prank.

‘And the shinobi assigned to take care of this task,’ Itachi said, ‘was me.’

He refused to look Sakura directly in the eye. He knew what he would find reflected there; a mixture of horror, shock, confusion... disgust. He felt the same way whenever he remembered how he had accepted such orders. There was a moment of silence before he heard Sakura’s small whisper.

‘But you're an Uchiha…'

The unspoken question rang loud and clear. Why ask an Uchiha to kill his clan when he should be on their side?

‘I was not in agreement with my clan,’ he said. ‘Neither was my cousin, Shisui.’

‘You didn't go through with it.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ he said. ‘My clan struck before I could carry out my orders.’

Sakura's eyes flashed, her fists clenching. ‘That's the reason you didn't do it?! Because you weren't fast enough? What about Sasuke-kun, huh? He was seven at the time. I suppose you were going to kill him too.’ 

‘No.' Itachi's voice sharply cut her off.  ‘Sasuke was innocent. He would have been spared.’

Sakura flinched at his sudden intervention, and Itachi instantly felt bad about raising his voice. She fell silent, her entire demeanour cold and distant. Although she didn’t seem entirely satisfied with his answer, she nodded anyway. 

‘I hope so, because I was about to break every bone in your body.’

Itachi mentally winced at the thought. ’Believe me Sakura-san, I wouldn’t have harmed a single hair on his head. The extermination was a last-resort. My cousin and I had a separate plan that we wanted to try before resorting to the kind of bloodshed the elders had in mind. But that plan failed too. My goal was not to massacre innocents, but to prevent a civil war.’ He paused, grimacing. ‘Clearly, I failed.’

Sakura’s iciness had melted away, and she was now staring at him with curiosity. ‘You're a pacifist.'

‘I am also my father's heir. Not just to the clan, but to the position of Hokage,’ he explained. ‘Do you remember what I told you yesterday when you asked me why my father can't have you incarcerated, no matter what you do?’

‘You said that I'm liked by civilians and shinobi, but you never explained.’

‘It means that you have a lot of allies.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Your clan hates me.’

‘Aside from my clan,’ he clarified, ‘you have many friends inside and outside of the village. You’re responsible for saving many of your comrade’s lives, and you have the respect of both civilians and shinobi. Hypothetically, if my father had you apprehended or executed, there would be a public outcry.’ 

‘Oh…’ she whispered. ’I never really thought about it that way.’

‘As you know, many lives were lost in the coup, including some of my clan members. The Uchiha clan is not infallible. Directly after the coup, it took a lot of strength to keep outside enemies from taking advantage of the political instability. If anything were to happen to you, your comrades wouldn’t keep quiet – take your team, for example. If there was unrest on such a wide scale, the Uchiha wouldn’t find it easy to maintain the control that they already struggle with.’ He paused, adding, ‘Especially as your teammate is the Kyuubi Jinchurriki.’

Sakura scoffed lightly. ‘The Kyuubi is hardly a threat when the Sharingan can control it.’

Itachi tried not to show his surprise. It was hardly common knowledge that the Uchiha could control the tailed beasts. In fact, although the Mangekyou Sharingan’s genjutsu prowess was now well-known, the extent of its abilities had been kept within the Uchiha clan under absolute secrecy. 

So how did she know that the Sharingan can manipulate the tailed beasts? 

All he could do was dismiss the matter for now. ‘Naruto-kun's seal is unique. The Sharingan can theoretically control the Kyuubi, but should Naruto-kun truly lose control, there's a risk that the Sharingan wouldn’t do much to help. Even when his seal is fully intact, it’s not an easy feat to control the most powerful tailed beast. It can only be done by someone with a huge store of chakra.’

‘You're telling me that there's no way the Sharingan can bypass it?’ She asked. ‘What about times when the seal is weakened?'

Itachi couldn't hold back a smirk. ‘Aside from his loss of control, there is only one other instance in which his particular seal would be weakened.’

‘Oh?’

‘Childbirth.’

Sakura released a half-hearted laugh. ‘Yeah...no, I don't think Naruto has anything to worry about there.’

‘I should hope not.’

They fell into a comfortable silence. He could see Sakura trying to process all of this information, her whole worldview turning upside down. As expected, it was a lot to come to terms with. 

‘And that's why you want to marry me,’ she surmised. ‘You're the heir to the Hokage title. I guess a marriage with someone like me would be—‘

‘A symbol of trust,’ he said. ‘An offer of peace. Ideally, it would make sense to wed a member of the Senju clan and restore the harmony in the village, but I'm afraid there's only one surviving member.’

Sakura smiled bitterly. ‘Tsunade-shishou is a bit old for you, Uchiha.’

‘She’s certainly older and wiser than me,’ he agreed. 

‘Thinking about it, she'd probably knock you out if you proposed to her. From what I remember, she wasn't too fond of your clan.’

‘Her feelings are understandable,’ he replied. ‘So long as my father is Hokage, she can’t return to her home.’ 

A heavy silence fell between them, until Itachi spoke softly. 

‘Sakura-san, you may not be a member of the Senju clan, but you are a disciple of Tsunade, and your connections and reputation within the village make you a strong compromise.’

He could see that that this decision was going to tear her apart. She looked fraught and overwhelmed, no matter how she tried to hide it behind a straight-faced facade. 

‘So ultimately, you're asking me to marry you for the sake of peace.’

‘Yes. I'm aware that this is a lot to ask, but given the scene you made yesterday with that patrol officer, I trust that your thoughts toward the current state of the village are the same as mine.’

‘They are,’ she said. ‘I want peace, I really do. It's just... I'm not sure.’

Itachi expected as much. After all, this was a huge decision for her. Sakura probably had dreams of falling in love, getting married, and living out the rest of her life in happiness. But he was asking her to enter a loveless marriage that resembled nothing more than a business transaction. He couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did.

But a part of him wondered if, having lost Shisui and Izumi, he was more prepared to make sacrifices than Sakura. Aside from his family, of course, he had far less to lose. 

‘Please, take your time to think,’ he said. ‘I know that this is not an easy decision to make.’

The hardest decisions are always the most important, he thought, as the image of Shisui’s eyeless corpse burned in his memory.

Sakura clutched her pillow tightly. The clock on her dresser read 2.00am, and she had spent the last four hours attempting to coerce her brain into getting some well-deserved shuteye.

It was difficult to come to terms with. Uchiha Itachi was not the man she had previously thought he was. His fearful reputation as Fugaku’s right-hand-man… the rumours about him… none of it was a true reflection of the person who had stood before her in the clearing earlier that day. 

But then there was also the issue of the Third Hokage, the village elders, and the corruption that lay between them. Although Itachi had mentioned that the Third Hokage accepted only with persuasion, it was a cruel manoeuvre regardless. She couldn't imagine what Itachi must have felt when he received the order to assassinate his entire family.

Surely there would have been another way. A compromise with less bloodshed.

There was another way. 

Itachi himself had said that he and his cousin tried to prevent the coup themselves. Perhaps it was possible to use whatever method Itachi and his cousin had originally planned.

But from what she knew about Uchiha Itachi, he was a meticulous man. Everything he did was within reason, and there must have been a good explanation as to why he gave up on his original plan.

She rolled over with a huff and stuck her legs out from under the duvet, searching for cool air. It was no use. At this rate, dawn was going to break and she would still be tossing and turning in indecision. But she didn't have to decide just yet.

‘There is no rush to make up your mind,’ he had said. ‘If you were - hypothetically - to take me up on my offer, there would be two possible routes and neither one requires immediate action.’

He had gone on to explain how they could marry in secret and wait until after Itachi's Hokage inauguration before announcing their marrage - and with it, Itachi's peaceful intentions as Hokage. Or they could marry immediately after the inauguration. Either way, they would need to make sure that Fugaku cannot intercept. If they were to marry openly beforehand, it was very likely that Fugaku would find a way to prevent Itachi from becoming Hokage. But if they waited, Fugaku would still attempt to stop them from taking any action to save the village from itself.

And even then, would a marriage really do much to create peace within the village? 

This is all too much.

She continued to toss and turn, and it wasn't until the first gleams of dawn peeked over the Hokage mountain that Sakura finally fell asleep.

Itachi was sitting on the roof of his family home. The cool night air was refreshing against his skin, but did little to soothe the stale thoughts that ran circles around his mind.

He couldn't help but feel guilty at the situation he had put Sakura in. It was true that there was room for compromise. Even so, all other plans he had thought through were drawn out and messy. At this point in his life, he was tired. He was tired of fighting battles against his father's ideology. He was tired of politics. If he could avoid complication, he would.

A chakra signature flared from within the house, but Itachi paid it little attention. He had been half-expecting this. 

There were careful footsteps on the roof before Sasuke sat down beside him.

‘Can't sleep?’ Itachi asked.

Naturally, there was no reply. He waited for Sasuke to finally ask the question that lay dormant between them. 

‘What do you want with her?’

Itachi almost smiled. Sasuke would never admit to it, but to anybody who paid attention, it was evident that he considered his teammates a second family.

‘You told her that the flowers were from me,’ he replied.

‘Why did you even send her flowers anyway? You've never been interested in Sakura.’

This time, Itachi chuckled. ‘That bouquet was going to be the first of many, if only you hadn't given the game away so quickly, baby brother.’

‘Tell me what you actually want with her.’

Itachi paused to think. There were certain things that even Sasuke couldn’t know. ‘I just need her assistance with a certain task. That's all.’

Sasuke scowled. ‘So you were planning on buttering her up before begging for her help? You're lucky she didn't paralyse you from the waist down.’ He gave Itachi a pointed look. ‘Just don't mess around with her.’

Itachi knew what he really meant.

Don't hurt her.

He didn't even turn to look as Sasuke climbed back through his bedroom window. There was a faint click as his baby brother's lamp went out. Itachi stared at the array of curved rooftops spread out across the new Uchiha District.

‘I'm sorry, Sasuke.’

Chapter Text

Sakura slumped, exhausted, against the door of the on-call room. She had just emerged from a long surgery riddled with complications. The patient had lost an incredible amount of blood and Sakura was surprised to find him miraculously still alive when his team carried him in. He had to be defibrillated twice, and almost hadn’t made it, but for now at least, his condition was stable. 

On the contrary, Sakura felt rather unstable on her feet. Her chakra was dwindling and her legs seemed to be made of jelly. She staggered to the small couch that took up most of the room, throwing herself onto the faded fabric and closing her eyes. She wouldn't get any sleep. That was a given. Whenever she was in the hospital she was always on high-alert. At any point a doctor or nurse could throw open the door and request her assistance.

And there was also the issue with Uchiha Itachi.

To marry or not to marry… It’s an impossible choice. 

Rolling over, she snuggled deeper into the couch. At times like these, she wished Tsunade was here to offer her signature sake-infused wisdom. Sakura remembered evenings spent sitting in street cafes with Tsunade at her side. Her shishou's cheeks would redden and she would rant and rave about the Third Hokage and her old team. Often, Tsunade would forego a cup and just drink straight from the bottle. Sakura smiled at the memory. Tsunade's advice was always bizarre and at times utterly ridiculous, but she had always been a good listener.

Sakura lifted her head as a thought struck her. 

It went without saying that her business with Itachi had to be kept secret, but she could still get some advice from a trusted friend so long as she didn’t reveal any specific details. And she knew exactly who she could talk to.

Once her shift was over and her chakra replenished, Sakura left the hospital. She kept her head down, making her way through the village. The sun was just beginning to set and the streets were half-empty. Although there was no clock, alarm or signal, everybody knew when curfew was approaching. After curfew, if you did not have a pass indicating that you were either working or on official business, you could be apprehended. She had seen it happen to innocent genin from her apartment window.

When the gates of the Yamanaka district came into view, she slowed. As always, two guards were stationed on either side, and stretched across the entrance was a complex web of chakra. This system monitored who entered and exited the clan compound. If somebody new went in and didn't come back out, or vice versa, the guards – usually sensory-type shinobi – would be alerted immediately. When this system was put into place, Fugaku claimed that it was for the sake of clan security and preventing intruders. But who was he kidding? Everyone knew that it was simply a means of minimising inter-clan scheming.

Even though Sakura didn't come from a clan, she was very familiar with this process due to her visits to Ino's house. Years ago, right after they had first initiated the system, her and Ino had tried to have a sleepover. The fun was cut short when they were awoken in the dead of night by a guard pounding his fist on Ino's front door.

Nearing the gates, she glanced at the guards and stepped into the web of chakra. The surface brushed across her skin, leaving a trail of tingling warmth. It felt similar to a mild electric current against her bare arms. Soon enough it was over, and Sakura had entered the Yamanaka district.

One of the guards looked at her over his shoulder. ‘You have twenty minutes,’ he said.

She gave him a curt nod, ‘I understand.’

Aside from the buzz of crickets, the Yamanaka district was peaceful and quiet as Sakura hurried through the streets. She paused in front of Ino’s house. The lights were on, meaning somebody had to be home. She just hoped that it was Ino and not her mother. Even though it had never been said directly, and it was nobody’s fault, she got the impression that Ino's mother was still bitter about the sleepover incident.

Sakura knocked. There were muffled footsteps before the door opened to reveal Yamanaka Inoichi. It had been a while, and she had almost forgotten how closely Ino resembled her father. Inoichi's blue eyes were as vibrant as his daughter's, and his blonde hair fell to his hip, the ends brushing the clothed stump of his left arm.

‘Sakura,’ he said with a gentle smile.

Sakura bowed. ‘Good evening, Inoichi-san. I'm sorry for disturbing you at this time.’

‘Not at all. You're always a welcome presence here,' he said. ‘Let me guess, you’re not here to see me?’

“Not today. Is Ino in?”

‘She's upstairs in her room. Of course, you already know the way.’ 

He stepped back, allowing her to enter, and Sakura slipped into the hall and removed her sandals. 

‘I promise I won't be long,’ she said. ‘There won't be a repeat of that time…'

Inoichi shook his head. ‘Don't worry about it, Sakura. It's in the past.’ He paused. ‘Though I must ask, is it possible for me to drop by your office some time?’

Sakura’s eyes immediately scanned over him, searching for any sign of discomfort. ’Is everything alright?’

He raised a hand in reassurance. ‘I'm quite alright,’ he replied, then gestured to his remaining left arm. ‘It's just that my scars have been itchy recently. I'm not sure if something has irritated them.’

She took a step forward. ‘I can have a quick look now if you like?’

‘No, please,’ he said. ‘It can wait.’ He nodded at the stairs behind her. ‘You don't have much time.’

Sakura felt a little guilty leaving him so suddenly, but he wasn't wrong. Her time was trickling away with every second that passed, and the Hokage already hated her enough without another curfew breach making things worse. 

‘Feel free to stop by the hospital tomorrow or any other time you like,’ she told him earnestly. ‘It's no trouble, really.’ 

Inoichi agreed as he ushered her up the stairs towards Ino’s all-too-familiar bedroom door. She stopped just outside and knocked. 

From within, there was a faint ‘Who is it?’ 

‘Take a guess.’ 

What followed was thud of feet and a bang as the door was yanked open. Ino's blue eyes glinted at the sight of Sakura. 

‘Forehead! Get in here, it's been ages!’

Ino's long, manicured fingers grasped Sakura's forearm, dragging her inside. It had been months since she had visited her best friend. Of course, it wasn’t out of choice. After the coup, just like all the other orphaned children, she had lived in a room pre-paid by the Hokage and the Council. When she had managed to accumulate enough of her hospital and mission wages, she moved to a rented apartment. Unfortunately, that also meant taking on extra shifts at the hospital in order to pay the rent, and her friendship with Ino had suffered as a result.

Ino's bedroom had matured since the last time she was here. The pale lilac walls had been re-painted a bold violet and the faux-fur rug, stained with nail polish, that once lay in the centre of the room was now nowhere to be seen.

On the other hand, Ino hadn’t changed at all. She was grinning so wide that her ears were in danger of disappearing. 

‘Forehead, where've you been?’ She grabbed Sakura's hands and inspected her bitten fingernails. ‘Look at your nails! I thought I taught you how to take care of them properly—‘

‘Pig, as much as I love you to bits, I don't have time.’

Ino pouted. ‘I know, I’m sorry.’

Sakura pulled Ino down to the bedroom floor. As children they had always preferred sitting cross-legged on the rug, especially while giving each other makeovers.

‘So, what's up?’ Ino asked. ‘Something's bothering you. Your brow seems to sparkle whenever you're upset.’

‘Oh shut up,’ Sakura scoffed. ‘But you're right. I do need advice on something.’

‘Fire away.’

‘So… I can't really go into too much detail,’ Sakura began. She had to be cautious about this. As much as she trusted Ino with her life, she just couldn't take any risks. ‘Imagine a hypothetical situation in which somebody asked you to make a difficult choice. This person wants you to give up your personal dreams for the sake of something bigger. As in, saving a village or something like that. And you can either agree with them or you can choose to be selfish.’

Ino was staring at her curiously. Of course she was. 

‘Okaay... and this is hypothetical, right?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘They want you to sacrifice your own interests for the sake of something bigger,’ Ino murmured. There was silence as she mulled things over. ‘It's a tough cookie, Forehead. I wouldn't blame anybody for choosing to pursue their own dreams. It's human nature to be selfish to a degree. But I have to ask, this mystery person... would they be pressuring me into anything?’

Sakura thought for a moment. ‘Not really. They're also under pressure themselves, but they would want you to choose for yourself. They're just hoping that you’ll agree with them.’

‘Sakura.’ Ino's voice was grave. ‘Please tell me you're not thinking of doing anything dangerous.’

I'm not sure whether it's dangerous or not. Is it dangerous? Perhaps. Fugaku isn’t exactly a man to be messed with.

‘Don't worry. It's not as dangerous as it sounds.’ 

Sakura hated lying through her teeth, especially to those closest to her. But she couldn't have Ino worried for her. 

‘I hope so,’ Ino hissed though her teeth, as if someone could be listening. ‘I almost lost my dad when he rebelled. I'm not going to risk losing you too.’

Sakura leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her best friend. Ino squeezed her back just as tightly. It was moments like these that left Sakura wondering if they had been sisters in a previous life.

‘I'm not going anywhere, Pig,’ Sakura said, pulling away from the hug. ‘You're not getting rid of me that easily.’

Ino wrinkled her nose. ‘Yep, you're like a disease.’ 

Seriously?

Sakura glared and lightly punched Ino’s shoulder, causing her to wince. 

‘Okay, okay! You're not a disease. Just please don't punch me again with those gorilla arms.’

Sakura's eyebrow twitched. ‘Gorilla arms?’

‘Ahem! Getting back to the topic,’ Ino said. ‘Your mysterious figure who holds mysterious choices.’

Sakura was listening in earnest. When it came to advice, Ino was the best person out there. No matter how stressed Sakura felt about a situation, Ino had a way of looking at things objectively. And that was the kind of clarity she needed right now. 

‘Like I said before, this is a tough one. But since this person is giving you a choice, it means that nothing is set in stone. In other words, could you not find a way to negotiate?’

‘Negotiate?’

‘Yes, Forehead, negotiation. This person is making the offer, but isn’t there a way to change the rules? So you're not sacrificing everything, just some things.’

Sakura silently thought this over. A marriage with Itachi wouldn't be ideal, to say the least. She hardly even knew him. However, if she were to talk with him and work out some compromises, perhaps they could actually have a comfortable marriage.

‘Or,’ Ino shrugged, ‘you could just do the exact opposite and screw the greater good.’

Sakura rolled her eyes. ‘You know I wouldn't be able to do that. It's not right, morally.’

Ino smiled. ‘I know. You're such a do-gooder, Forehead. It’s weird as hell.’

There was a knock on the bedroom door. Inoichi's deep voice could be heard from the other side. 

‘I hate to interrupt, but Sakura, it's time.’

The two girls stood and Ino pulled Sakura into one last hug. She couldn't believe that her time had gone so fast, and being here with Ino now, she realised just how much she had missed her best friend.

Ino drew back and grinned cheerlessly. ‘Next time, come and visit earlier in the day so we get longer than ten minutes. Actually, scratch that, I'll drop into your office and surprise you one day. I mean that, and not just when I need healing.’

‘Please do. I don't always get time off, so if I don't come and visit you soon, you know where to find me.’

Inoichi knocked again. This time he did not speak, but the message was received loud and clear. 

My time's up.

‘See you soon, Pig.’

With two hands on her shoulders, Ino steered her toward the door. In the hallway outside, Inoichi was hovering nervously. 

‘Remember, Sakura,’ Ino said, ‘you've got the upper hand in this situation. Whoever your mystery person is, they’re relying on you.’

Sakura thanked her, and with newfound determination, she left the Yamanaka household.

The bloodied eye glistens in Shisui's palm. Despite the two red trails dripping from his closed lids, Shisui is smiling. The blood smells like metal or rust. It has never bothered Itachi before, but now the scent is invasive.

‘You're the only friend I can count on. Protect the village and the Uchiha name. Both of them.’

There is a flap of wings and a rustle of leaves as a large crow bursts from the woods behind them. It circles before slowing to a halt inches away from Shisui's hand. In a gust of glossy black feathers, the crow disappears along with the eye. 

Itachi doesn't want to look. He knows what comes next. He has seen this many times before, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot turn away.

‘If I die, many things will change.’ 

Shisui takes a step back. His feet are centimetres from the cliff edge, and his voice is quiet against the roar of the waterfall. 

‘I've already left a note.’

Itachi's stomach drops. Nausea churns inside him and all he wants is to close his eyes. Yet they remain open, staring, even as Shisui's feet graze the edge of the cliff. The words are ripped from his throat before he realises that they're his.

‘Shisui, wait!’

‘Don't try and stop me, Itachi.’ 

Shisui's body tumbles over the edge.

Itachi leaps forward, stretching out to grasp a shirt, a wrist, anything that could be used to haul him up.

‘Shisui!’

Itachi shot up in bed. 

His skin was clammy, and his pyjama pants were sticking to him. Staring at the geometric pattern on his duvet, he focused on controlling his breathing.

It was the third time this week that he had been tormented by this particular memory. Well, he had always been haunted by it. But never in such detail. Never with such realism. 

He clenched his eyes tightly. The wet crunch of Shisui's body hitting the rocks rang in his ears. His chest ached at the image of his cousin’s limbs, limp as a rag doll, drifting down the river. He saw the trail of blood, swirling in the stream like watercolour, as it dribbled from Shisui's crushed skull.

‘Uchiha-sama?’

He moved. 

Sharingan activated, his fingers swiftly grabbed the kunai from under his pillow. He leapt from the bed… only to see a slug. A very large, grey slug to be exact. It was quivering slightly, a pool of slime gathering on the windowsill beneath its body. His heart pounded, nerves on fire, as he stared right back. It was only when he noticed the folded note tied around its neck that he put his kunai away. 

A summon. 

Of course it was a summon. An intruder would hardly refer to him as Uchiha-sama.

‘Uchiha-sama, I'm sorry for the disturbance.’ 

The slug’s voice was shaky, and Itachi could only assume he had made it nervous. 

‘I should be the one to apologise,’ he said. ‘I shouldn't have raised my kunai at you.’ 

The slug curled inwards and lowered its head. Itachi wasn't too knowledgeable about the body language of slugs, but he could only assume it was trying to avoid eye contact. 

‘My mistress has a message for you.’

Itachi untied the note from the slug's body, raising a brow at the way it flinched. When the note was finally free, the slug curled into a spiral. 

‘I m-must go now. G-good day, Uchiha-sama.’

The summons disappeared in a puff of smoke before Itachi could respond. He shook his head in disbelief. Sakura certainly had chosen a strange slug as a messenger. He lowered his gaze to the note and unfolded the paper.

Itachi-san,

Meet me at the dango shop opposite the green grocers at 11.00am. I trust you know where to find it. Sasuke-kun happened to mention that you have an obsession with Dango. I have some things I want to discuss about your proposal.

S.

Itachi frowned at her messy doctor's scrawl. He had to re-read it several times before he understood all of the words.

Did she write this with her feet?

According to the clock on his wall, he had five hours before Sakura wanted to meet with him. This left him just enough time for a quick training session and some paperwork before he needed to set off for the dango shop. As he turned to the wardrobe to get dressed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It was now clear why the slug had behaved in such an odd manner. 

He looked wild. His Sharingan was still activated, and the nightmare had left a clammy sheen to his pale skin. Similarly, his hair had slipped from its tie during the night and was now bedraggled by sleep. The kunai clenched between his fingers certainly didn’t help matters.  

Itachi tried not to feel disheartened. He should have expected this No matter what he said or how he acted, his fearsome reputation was all anyone would ever see. 

Especially after what happened that day. 

Sakura almost dropped the vial of poison in her hand as her slug summon reappeared on her desk with a puff of smoke. She had sent out Cho, Katsuyu's young niece, at the crack of dawn with a note for Itachi. Cho had been fine then, but now the poor thing looked traumatised. She set down the vial of poison and removed her safety goggles.

‘Cho-chan, did something happen? Did my message get through alright?’

The slug replied a little too quickly. ‘Y-yes, Uchiha Itachi-sama received your message, mistress!’

Sakura frowned, reaching out with healing chakra to touch the slug's body. ‘You're not injured, but you seem so shaken…'

‘Thank you for your kindness, but I am quite alright. If you please, I must go. Katsuyu-sama is calling me.’

Sakura was unsure, but she couldn’t keep Cho here against her will, especially if something — or someone — had upset her. 

‘Of course, Cho-chan,’ she said. ‘Give my regards to Katsuyu-sama. And please…’ she lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Could you ask her to let me know how shishou is doing? I haven't heard anything in a while.’

Cho inclined her head. ‘I will, mistress. Have a good day.’

When the slug puffed out of the lab, Sakura blinked in confusion. Cho was a very young summon, having only been used for delivering messages as she was not yet ready for combat or medical aid. Itachi must have intimidated her in some way. She made a mental note to confront him about it later on.

Putting her safety goggles back on, she continued her work on creating an antidote to several new poisons that were currently affecting an Anbu team being treated in the hospital. 

After the coup, the political instability of the village became an advantage to neighbouring countries who wanted to attack. However, physical attacks were difficult, partially due to Fugaku's security system, but also because the Uchiha clan had made losses during the Coup. Naturally, such losses only meant that several clansmen had awakened their Mangekyou Sharingan. With so many Uchiha possessing such skilled dojutsu, physical attacks on the village were few and far between. Biological attacks, on the other hand, were a far more common threat. Sakura's skill in poisons meant that she was allowed to work on formulating antidotes, even if she wasn't trusted with much else.

As the morning wore on, she repeatedly glanced at the clock, anxious to step away from her project and catch a break. In order to meet Itachi, she had convinced a nurse to swap shifts. The nurse was all too happy to comply, leaving Sakura with the graveyard shift. 

When the clock finally hit 10.40am, Sakura put down her safety goggles and sighed. She was finally free. Well, for now. She would still have to come back to do that dreadful graveyard shift. But at least she would be able to feel some sunlight on her face. 

She put away her equipment and changed into her regular clothes before leaving the hospital. When she reached the dango shop, Itachi was already there. He was sitting at a table in the corner, away from prying ears. A plate of hanami dango was set in front of him. He poured green tea from a cast-iron teapot into two cups. Of course, he already knew she was there.

She sidled up to the table and sat opposite him, taking the second cup.

‘Sakura-san,’ he greeted.

‘Itachi-san.’

He sipped at his tea. ‘You wanted to meet about our arrangement.’

‘That’s right,’ she said, signalling to a waitress. ‘But first I'm hungry for some dumplings. I'm usually stuck at work during lunch hours.’

Sakura ordered a portion of chadango. She ignored the way that the waitress's gaze flickered between her and Itachi, and once the woman had left, Sakura leaned forward, folding her hands under her chin – a trait she inherited from Tsunade.

‘I think you broke my slug summon.’

Itachi delicately raised an eyebrow. ‘I don't know what you mean.’

‘Then why, pray tell, did she return to me trembling like she'd just been held at knifepoint? She's only young, you know, she's not used to this stuff. You didn't have to intimidate her.’

‘I did nothing of the sort.’

Sakura gave him a pointed look. He was silent, protesting, before he finally spoke in a low, disconcerting voice. 

‘I may have assumed she was an intruder.’ 

Sakura put the rest of the pieces together herself. It was a well known fact that Itachi was strong and sharp. Nothing passed by him. He probably sensed Cho the moment she appeared and reacted accordingly. Actually, it wouldn’t surprise her if he kept a weapon under his pillow. Not to mention he probably used his Sharingan. 

The longer she stared at Itachi, the more she understood that his terrifying reputation was nothing more than fiction. The air of preciseness that lurked about his person was down to his intense training, whilst his cool demeanour was simply his resting face. In fact, “cool” didn’t seem to cut it. Currently, his expression was stone cold—

Oh Kami, he's glaring at me.

She flinched, almost spilling her tea. His eyes glinted with irritation. It was almost unnoticeable to the average person, but Sakura was used to Sasuke's behaviour, and the two brothers — whilst very different in many respects — had a striking number of similarities.

Sakura glugged down her tea, nearly groaning in relief when the waitress re-emerged with a plate of dumplings. Thanking her, Sakura took a moment to collect herself.

‘Okay, back to the reason why I wanted to talk to you.’

He waited patiently whilst she took a deep breath.

‘I accept.’

He seemed mildly surprised. 

‘I expected you to decline.’ At Sakura's puzzled look, he added, ‘Sasuke talks about you sometimes. He says that you are stubborn and hot headed.’

Sakura clenched her jaw.

Ignore it, ignore it...

‘I accept your proposal,’ she said, ‘on one condition."

‘Go on.’

‘I have some requests. But more importantly, I also have several questions.’ 

Was this the wrong thing to ask for? Was she even in the right place to make bargains like this? Despite what Ino said, Itachi didn’t technically need her. The man sitting across from her could snap her neck right this second without anyone around them noticing. She steeled her nerves. 

‘By that, I mean questions about the coup, and about your cousin, not to mention your original plan for peace.’

Itachi visibly tensed.

‘I want to know what happened seventeen years ago.’

Chapter Text

Itachi immediately tensed.

‘I want to know what happened seventeen years ago.’

He wasn't surprised. If anything, he had suspected that Sakura would ask about his involvement in the Coup at some point. But not this soon. And certainly not here. Although he did not show it, he was keeping his senses on high alert. They could not risk eavesdroppers. 

It made sense that she would wish to understand every detail of the events leading up to the Uchiha’s attack on the village. He was requesting a great deal of her help, after all. When he proposed to her, his explanation had barely scraped the surface of the topic. There was so many finer details that he had left out — purposely. 

It shouldn't have been an issue. She deserved to know the truth. 

Even so…

There were certain memories that he much preferred to keep buried in the past, and he couldn't help but resist a little.

‘I already told you about that,’ he told her.

Sakura calmly took a bite of dango and replied, ‘Hardly. I want to know what you had originally planned and why it failed.’

‘That does not—'

‘Oh, it matters,’ she cut in, her voice lowering to a near whisper. ‘Let's be honest here, a marriage isn’t magically going to solve all the problems in the village. Your father will obviously go against everything you stand for as Hokage, and the rest of your clan won't exactly want to obey any new laws you put in.’

Every point Sakura made, Itachi was already well aware of. He knew his clan better than anyone. Better, even, than his own father. 

‘I want to know what you've already tried,’ she added. ‘It's inevitable that we're going to run into problems, so I need understand the situation inside and out in order to counter those problems when they come.'

‘You’re missing the point, Sakura-san,’ he said, calmly sipping his tea. ‘First of all, a marriage wouldn’t be a solution. It would be a symbol. The problems within the village will take a long time to resolve. I’ll have to form alliances with neighbouring countries, as well as make agreements with each of the clans residing in Konoha. The marriage would simply become a sign of trust. Nothing more. You’re forgetting that I’m the son of a man responsible for many deaths, who stole the title of Hokage from the Third.’ 

He didn’t miss the way Sakura’s body tensed minutely. 

‘The villagers are unlikely to place their trust in me, let alone the clans.’ 

Sakura nodded slowly, mulling this over. ‘And I suppose…’

‘You, on the other hand, they know and trust. No matter what my clan does to stop me, the majority of the village will side with you. You’re an ally of Konoha’s most prominent clans, and I’m quite sure our neighbouring countries haven’t forgotten about you healing their daimyos.’

He watched her placidly, gauging her reaction. There was a certain sadness in her expression, a nostalgia perhaps brought about from the memory of her old missions before she was confined to the village. 

Sakura looked at him pointedly as he picked up a stick of dango. ‘So, since you've agreed to tell me what happened—’

‘I agreed to nothing.’

‘You will agree,' she insisted. ‘I know you can show me everything.’

He froze mid-bite. ‘Show you?’

Surely, she couldn’t be asking me to do such a thing…

‘I hate the idea, it's true. But I know you can use that technique.’

He placed his dango back on his plate. A memory of Sakura, bloodied and strapped to a chair in one of Konoha's interrogation cells, flashed in the back of his mind. 

‘I don't think that's a good idea.’

’I know,’ she admitted. ‘But I need to know everything. I need you to show me.’

It was a terrible idea, and yet there she was, insisting that he use Tsukuyomi on her. He had seen the long-lasting effects of Tsukuyomi on its victims, and Sakura was all too familiar with these. The thought of subjecting her to its power, knowing that she has suffered under it before, made his stomach churn. But it was what she wanted.

He owed her this much.

‘Very well,’ he said at last.

Sakura's face broke out into a relieved grin. ‘For a minute there I thought I was going to have to torture you into agreeing.’

Itachi's pulse jittered a little. Her words were far too cavalier, as though she were ignorant of what his eyes could do. 

‘However,’ he said, ‘if I am to show you my memories, it’ll have to be in a private and secure location.’

‘Of course. That goes without saying. I'm on the graveyard shift tonight, so perhaps tomorrow?’

He thought it over carefully. If he aimed to finish his paperwork as soon as possible, and provided that there were no last minute meetings with the Uchiha elders, he could manage it. 

‘I will visit your apartment late tomorrow night.’

‘It's settled then!’ Sakura said, beaming. Itachi wasn't entirely comfortable with her cheery aura. It was a little too happy. 'Now that's out of the way, I have some more questions.’

He mentally groaned. If she had just managed to talk him into using the Tsukuyomi on her against both of their better judgement, who knew what else she had in store?

As soon as she mentioned having more questions, Itachi’s gaze hardened. It was not overtly malicious or unfriendly, but instead he seemed to want her to feel uncomfortable. There was just something about his eyes, glistening, dark and dangerous. She repressed a shudder.

Does he know how he comes across sometimes?

‘Well…' she began, ‘M-my first ques…' She shook her head, exasperated. ‘Are you doing that on purpose?’

‘Doing what, Sakura-san?’ The amused slant to his lips told her that yes, he was perfectly aware of his actions.

‘You know what,’ she hissed. ‘The way you stare at people. It's weird and creepy.’

‘I'm weird and creepy?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Forget I said anything.’

‘Would you rather I turn my chair around so that you do not have to look at me?’

For one second, Sakura thought she had misheard him.

He's joking... Uchiha Itachi is actually making jokes?

Itachi was well known as a serious and deadly shinobi. Sasuke had commented that his brother was a workaholic, and often missed out on spending time with family and friends (if he had any of the latter). Even though she was resolved to go through with Itachi's proposition, she had braced herself for a cold marriage with a near-stranger. But at this moment, as he was looking at her with mirth in his eyes, Sakura realised that there was far more to Uchiha Itachi than she had originally thought.

Perhaps this marriage won't actually be so bad after all. Maybe we can even become friends.

‘Now you are the one who is staring, Sakura-san.’

‘I'm sorry,’ she said, a little embarrassed that she had been so obvious. ‘It doesn't matter. But that's another of my requests, you know. I want to get to know you better so that we're not just strangers. So you've got to stop calling me Sakura-san. It's just so formal.’

He tilted his head in curiosity. ‘You would rather I drop the honorifics?’

‘Please. Just Sakura is better.’

He paused for a few seconds. ‘Very well, Just Sakura.'

Is he for real?

She fought the urge to hide her flushed cheeks in her palms. He sounded like a leading male character from one of the many teen-romance novels she used to read. Was this really Sasuke’s older brother? The Uchiha Itachi. 

‘Sakura,’ she insisted. ‘And no honorific.’

‘If that is the case, you should also drop your honorifics.’

Sakura mentally sighed in relief. He was at least cooperating, and although his jokes were embarrassing, at least this proved that he wasn't stiff and boring like a cardboard cut-out.

‘Well then Itachi,’ she said. ‘I have some questions.’

‘Go ahead… Sakura.'

The lack of honorifics was strange for both of them, but not unpleasant. It would become natural in time.

‘I want to know whether this engagement is set in stone. It isn't a real marriage, it's based on politics. So where exactly do you stand on the topic of fidelity?’

‘You want my permission to have an affair?’ he asked, bemused.

‘I don't mean it that way. Say, sometime in the future, if I meet somebody and fall in love, would I be able to—‘

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘If that happened, we would divorce and I would hold nothing against you. I’m not so petty as to deny you that much.’

Sakura felt satisfied with this answer. So far, things were looking good. At least she would be able to continue on with her life should she meet that special somebody. It was a compromise. This way, everybody wins.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘I didn't think you were petty, but usually old clans are very traditional about things like marriage and divorce.’

‘I’m hardly representative of my clan, Sakura.’

Of course… 

‘My second question is purely out of curiosity,’ she began slowly. 'Usually in traditional clans, especially when it comes to the heirs, arranged marriages are pretty common.’ 

Sakura wasn't sure if she was just imagining things, but she could have sworn that Itachi's gaze hardened for a fraction of a second. 

‘Would this not cause a disruption of some kind?’ She asked. 

‘There is no disruption."

His answer was immediate and curt, and Sakura sensed that the topic was equivalent to a pool of lava and she was balancing precariously on a rock. But she had to be sure. The last thing she wanted to do was break some poor girl's heart.

‘So just to be clear, you don't you have a fiancé betrothed to you?’

‘I did.’

The words were cold. Final. The topic was to be discussed no more.

When Sakura brought up the topic of arranged marriages, he decided to cut things short. There was no need for Sakura to hear the specifics of his relationship with Izumi. She had passed. What more could be said? Sakura seemed to have sensed his detachment from the subject as she fidgeted in her chair, anxiously knotting her fingers. 

She feels that she has crossed a line. Perhaps I was a little cool towards her.

‘You mentioned that you have some requests, aside from your questions,’ he said.

He saw a glimpse of understanding her eyes. She seemed to realise that it was a personal question, and that he wasn't truly angry at her for asking. But her voice trembled a little 

‘I do,’ she said. ‘Well my first request was about the honorifics, as you already know. But I have one more request. I'm assuming you already know Naruto.’

Of course he did. The jinchurikki followed his baby brother around like a golden retriever. He was a loud mouthed attention-seeker, and if it weren't for the boy's father — the late Fourth Hokage — Naruto would have had his tailed beast ripped from him. 

The seal used by the Fourth Hokage to lock the Nine-Tails within Naruto was so complex and unique that even the Uchiha clan were unable to break through it in order to extract and control the Kyuubi. That was, unless Naruto truly lost control and the seal weakened. It had only happened a couple of times during training sessions that took a wrong turn somewhere, and when it did Sasuke was always around to put things right before any other Uchiha had a chance to touch his tailed beast. 

Heaven knows they had tried. Whilst it wasn't an ideal means of power, Fugaku begrudgingly compromised by allowing Naruto to train as a Konoha shinobi. At least that way, Naruto himself could be used as a tool provided that over time he was taught to harness the power of the Kyuubi.

As for what Sakura would ask of him, it was obvious, especially considering how often Naruto shouted and raved about his lifelong goal.

‘When you become Hokage,’ she said, ‘I want you to make him your successor.’

As expected.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘However, in order to become a true Hokage, your teammate needs to understand that he’ll have to gain the acknowledgement and respect of everybody in the village.’

Sakura blinked slowly and a look of mild irritation passed over her face. ‘You're hardly one to talk. Civilians and shinobi are terrified of you and you're still next in line for the Hokage position.’

‘My father did not achieve the title of Hokage by being acknowledged, Sakura. He took it by force.’

‘Oh believe me, I'm well aware.’

Patience, Itachi reminded himself. He needed patience. It would take more than a few sticks of dango to earn her complete trust. 

‘Tell me,’ he asked. ‘In a game of shogi, what is the fate of a king without the full support of his men?’ 

She raised a brow, unimpressed. Itachi knew she was intelligent, Sasuke had said as much.  

‘Vulnerability and then death,’ she replied. ‘Whilst the king can move solo, his true strength comes from his soldiers. Without them, he will inevitably lose.’

‘My father's pillar of support is the Uchiha clan,’ he explained. ‘He is not entirely vulnerable, but the clan only accounts for a small percentage of Konoha's overall population.’

Sakura appeared  Sakura was He gave her a small smile, knowing that this moment was the beginning of a new alliance. 

‘And so the point remains the same; without the full support of his soldiers, the king will fall.’

Sakura's mind was reeling as she plodded back to her apartment. Itachi was a tactical prowess, but after her meeting with him, she wearily concluded that he must see the whole world as a giant shogi board.

She didn't have to go back to the hospital to cover the overnight shift for several hours. This meant that if she could get her thoughts to stop racing, she might actually be able to catch a few hours of sleep.

‘Sakura-chan!’

Or maybe not.

An orange mass barrelled straight into her. Naruto squeezed her tight as he clung to her like a lost child. His clothes smelled like freshly cut grass, summer rain and ramen. Behind them, there was a trudge of footsteps accompanied by a calmer, cooler chakra.

Sasuke-kun.

Detangling herself from Naruto's arms, she laughed. ‘Okay, okay, I need to breathe. Let me go.’

He pulled away, grinning. ‘The bastard and I have been looking for you everywhere. We went to your office but you weren't there.’

She rubbed her head sheepishly. ‘Sorry about that. I swapped shifts so I'm working tonight instead of this afternoon.’

‘Heh, in that case do you wanna get some ramen with us?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘That junk is salty enough to put you in an early grave.’ Suddenly remembering that she had a stomach full of dango, she added, ‘Plus, I've already eaten.’

‘No fair.’ He pulled a childish face ‘Please Sakura-chan! It's not the same without you.’

Sasuke finally spoke up. ‘Leave her alone, idiot. Perhaps she doesn't want ramen.’ In a softer tone he said to her, ‘We're meeting with Kakashi at Ichiraku's soon. You don't have to come along if you don't want, but you could get some sake even if you're not hungry.’

Sasuke would never directly invite her, and from the outside his way of regarding her would seem cold, but in reality, Sakura could read him like the back of her hand. He wanted her there just as much as Naruto did.

‘Fine then.’ 

It was barely noticeable, but something in Sasuke's eyes lit up. Before Naruto could grab her elbow and drag her to Ichiraku's, she added, ‘But only if Naruto's paying.’

‘What?’ Naruto scowled. ‘You're so mean sometimes, Sakura-chan.’

It had been a while since she last joined her team at Ichiraku Ramen. And as Sakura walked through the village with her boys on either side of her, she realised that perhaps some time with her team was just what she needed today.

On the other side of the one-way mirror, the Kiri nin writhed in a steel chair. His forehead and upper lip glistened with sweat, while his wrists and ankles strained against chakra entwined ropes. Although the interrogation department did have have leather and metal bindings at their disposal, the interrogation officers preferred traditional ropes; every time the Kiri nin pulled against his bindings, the stained ropes chafed away his skin. 

In the neighbouring observation room, Itachi watched on. He vaguely acknowledged the door opening and closing.

‘Uchiha-Itachi sama.’ 

A young interrogation officer holding a clipboard approached him. Itachi didn’t bother turning to look.

‘We discovered him attempting to infiltrate the village, sir. He had a long-distance mic attached to the inside of his collar and he was lingering outside of the Hokage's office, disguised as a guard.’

Itachi’s stomach churned. The Kiri nin was young. Inexperienced. But still brainwashed enough to resist spilling under interrogation. Considering that his mission was to infiltrate the Hokage Tower, the Mizukage probably considered him an expendable asset. To infiltrate a building filled with some of Konoha's strongest surviving members of the Uchiha clan was nothing more than a suicide mission.

He wondered if the Kiri nin was aware that he wasn’t expected to return from this mission. If not, how would he react to hearing this truth?

Itachi did not answer the officer beside him. Instead he silently observed the interrogators in the chamber as they inflicted countless genjutsu in combination with physical blows. He tried not to show his distaste at how the officers grinned every time the shinobi groaned, blood dribbling from his mouth.

‘We’ve tried to extract information from him about the Mizukage's intentions,’ the officer continued, ‘but it seems that his tongue has been sealed.’

Now this caught Itachi's interest.

‘Sealed?'

The officer nodded. ‘Yes. Whenever he tries to reveal information, his throat begins to close up. His throat muscles only relax when he decides against speaking. We’ve never seen anything like it.’

Itachi didn’t like the sound of this at all. He had only ever witnessed something similar to this once before. It was over fifteen years ago, during his years as an Anbu captain, when he was introduced to a group of shinobi working for Konoha's underground defence system.

No. He didn't like this one bit.

Before leaving the room, he took one last look at the Kiri nin and swallowed at the memory of Sakura – pink hair matted with blood and mouth twisted in pain – as she was strapped to the same steel chair.

Chapter Text

The bedroom was lit only by the waning moon and two candles on the bedside table. Sakura was sitting on the edge of her bed, bare toes against the carpet. She shivered in the evening breeze from the open window, unconsciously picking at the raw skin of her cuticles. All day, she had felt fine. Confident, even. But as the afternoon fell into evening, a dull sense of dread wedged its way into her heart.

It's just Itachi. 

She glanced at the window, knowing that he would appear soon. 

He's not going to do anything to hurt me.

Even so, the thought of that technique made her skin crawl. Her body hadn’t forgotten how it felt, all those years ago in that pitch black chamber. She had been blinded by darkness, the only guiding light a pair of vibrant red eyes that had easily pulled her into their depths. 

A part of her screamed that she was tempting the devil, that Itachi was a member of the clan that slaughtered her parents, that tortured her, and that she had no business getting involved in a plan like this, let alone allowing Itachi to use his genjutsu on her. However, another part genuinely wanted to believe that not all Uchiha were corrupted. Sasuke was her friend, regardless of his family. And so far, Itachi had never given her any indication that he would harm her. 

Come on Sakura, don’t give in to fear…

Standing, she walked over to the door. The hallway was cold — colder than it should have been. Upon entering the living room, she drew a sharp breath.

He was already here.

His silhouette lurked in the corner, slim and unmoving, his eyes glowing crimson. For a fraction of a second, Sakura was still trapped in that chamber, caught in the spell of those eyes and unable to look away even as her pounding heart urged her to run away.  

But then he stepped forward and turned on a lamp. The light slanted across his features, leaving one half of his face cast in an orange glow, the other masked in shadows. His expression was blank.

Sakura swallowed, taking a steady breath. ‘You're earlier than I thought you'd be.’

‘I made sure to finish sooner than usual.’ A pause. ‘Sakura, do you always sit around in the dark?’

She shrugged, feeling slightly more at ease with the small talk between them. ’It’s a waste to keep lights on when I'm not in a room.’ 

‘I see.’ He paused again, and she could feel his eyes carefully examining her. ’Are you sure that this is what you want?’

‘I'm sure,’ she said. 

He didn't reply. Before she could so much as blink, she saw three swirling tomoes morph into three jagged spikes. Her heart jumped and she stumbled backwards.

Calm down Sakura, he's not going to hurt you…

As the room melted into a blurred trance of colours, she vaguely registered a hand supporting the back of her head and a calm voice reminding her that she was safe. But this was quickly forgotten as she was sucked into a world of red, orange and black.

A hot summer wind blows across Itachi's neck as he crouches, clad in full Anbu gear, on the roof of a weapons shop. He watches the scene below with caution. Two men are wrestling on the ground aiming drunken blows at one another. From their attire, he knows that they are civilians. With two hard punches, a tooth skids across the dust.

‘Please, someone!’ 

A civilian woman waves her arms amidst the crowd around her. Itachi recognises her as the owner of the weapons shop. 

‘Police! Anybody!’

Itachi considers intervening, but three familiar chakra signatures are fast approaching, and unlike Itachi, these signatures belong to police officers. Within seconds his father appears on the scene, flanked by two clansmen. They push through the crowd, Fugaku waving the audience away whilst the other two officers grab the shoulders of the fighting men and drag them apart.

One is handcuffed almost immediately. But as an officer places the cuffs around the other man's wrists, he shrugs himself free and swings his fist in a wide arc. It misses, naturally.

‘Goddamn Uchiha!’ He yells. ‘Get the hell out of here!’

The officer catches his wrist and twists it. With his other hand, he grabs the man's jaw, holding his face inches away from his own. 

‘Say that again,’ the officer hisses. His Sharingan burns. ‘I dare you. Say it.’

Despite being cuffed, constrained, and face to face with the infamous Sharingan, the civilian man scoffs through a bloodied mouth and a broken nose. 

‘Don't give me that shit. You can stop acting so self-righteous. We all know who was responsible for the Nine-Tails attack.’

The officer looks as though he is about to throw the man to the ground, but then Fugaku turns, his own Sharingan activated.

‘Take him to the cells.’ Fugaku's voice is cold and quiet. ‘Now.’

Dragged away by the officer, the man grins, displaying a set of glistening red teeth and gums. 

‘Touched a nerve, have I? I believe in karma, you know. You'll get what you're due one day.’

Whispers flutter through the crowd of civilians. Even from his perch on the rooftop above, Itachi is able to catch the gist of their hushed tones.

‘… Acting innocent.'

'Their clan district wasn't damaged nearly half as much as the rest of the village...'

‘Who do they think they are?'

'I guess the Second Hokage was right all along…'

In one of inner chambers of the Hokage Tower, Itachi kneels on a tatami mat. His head is bowed out of respect for the four elderly figures sitting on the platform before him.

’It will not work, Hiruzen,’ Danzo comments flippantly. He eyes Itachi. ‘This technique cannot guarantee that the coup will be stopped. Even if it did work and Uchiha Fugaku was held under its influence, who is to say that this would sway the opinions of the other clansmen.’

Itachi grits his teeth. He knows perfectly well the distrust that Danzo harbours for the Uchiha clan. ‘If I may speak, Hokage-sama?’

The Third Hokage nods. ‘Please go ahead.’

‘My father holds a high level of influence over the clan,’ Itachi explains. ‘If he were to gradually stop his plans for the coup, I believe everybody else will eventually follow. If I may make a suggestion, a way to calm the Uchiha would be to provide the clan with a position of power in the village. A place on the council, for example. Or perhaps an equivalent.’

Koharu's outrage instantly fills the room.

‘Members of the Uchiha on the council? I will not hear of it,’ she snaps. ‘It is far too much of a risk. We already know we cannot trust them, otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation.’  

‘The Uchiha clan has been a longstanding—‘

‘Hiruzen, please! Do not entertain such a ridiculous idea. The Uchiha clan needs to be dealt with forcefully—’

‘Enough, Koharu!’ The Third Hokage raises his hand and Koharu quietens. ‘The Uchiha are old comrades in arms. I want to try settling things with words before violence.’ He pauses, mulling over the dire situation. ‘Itachi.’

‘Yes, Hokage-sama?’

‘Tell Shisui to go ahead as planned with the Kotoamatsukami. The sooner the better.’

Itachi inclines his head. ‘Very well, Hokage-sama.’

Itachi stares hopelessly at the uchiwa fan on the back of Shisui's shirt as they both silently weigh up what little options they have left. 

Itachi had been waiting for Shisui at their usual meeting spot – beside the waterfall over the Nakano river. Only, Shisui had been late, and Itachi had discovered him deep in the woodland, horribly poisoned with fresh blood dribbling down the side of his face. Now, Shisui is looking down the cliff side, watching the waterfall as it crashes into the river.

‘It seems we can't prevent the Uchiha's coup d’etat,‘ he murmurs. ‘If internal warfare breaks out in the Leaf, the neighbouring countries will invade and there’ll be another war.’ 

It was the truth. Somehow, deep down, they both knew it would come to this.  

‘I was planning on using Kotoamatsukami to stop the coup, but Danzo stole my right eye. He didn't trust what I was trying to do, and he'll resort to anything to protect the village. He'll probably come after my left eye too.’ 

Shisui finally turns to Itachi, his expression resolute. 

‘Before that happens, I want you to have it.’

‘Shisui—‘

Itachi holds back a grimace as Shisui’s fingers close around his left eyelid. There is a squelch of blood and a hiss of pain, before Shisui painfully removes his eye and holds it out in his closed fist. 

‘You're really the only friend I can trust. Protect the village, and the Uchiha name. Both of them.’

Itachi extends a hand and reluctantly takes the eye. It’s warm in his palm, and he can feel Shisui’s comforting chakra radiating from it. 

‘But I…'

‘This isn't the only thing that I need to give you,’ Shisui says. ‘I'm going to give you a new power too. The Mangekyou Sharingan.’

Itachi freezes. The Mangekyou Sharingan? Such a rare form of the Sharingan with such an incredible cost. He already knows what this means for his cousin, but the thought is too much to bear. 

‘Shisui...You can’t.’

‘I'm not going to last long in this state anyway. Take it as a gift. My final wish.’

Itachi doesn’t know what to think. How had things come to this? How had they let things escalate this quickly? His thoughts are all consuming, drowning out everything else. 

‘What's with that face of yours?’ Shisui teases him lightly. 

Caught off guard by the comment, Itachi’s thoughts grind to a halt. Unperturbed, Shisui places a hand on Itachi’s shoulder.

‘Even like this, I can still see your face easily you know. A worried expression just doesn't look good on you. You must always remain calm. That's what Uchiha Itachi is. I'm positive you can do this, so don't worry. It’ll be fine.’

Itachi lowers his head, squeezing his eyes shut because what else can he do but accept this decision? This awful, awful decision. The eye has become a deadweight in his palm. 

’I will carry on your will for the Uchiha clan.’

Shisui gives him a bitter smile. ‘From now on, you may be forced to walk down a long dark path. One that's filled with suffering. I have to apologise that I can't be with you through it all. Still, I hope you don't stray from your path, and keep moving forward as a leaf ninja. I believe in you.’

Itachi clenches his jaw as his throat grows tighter by the second.

‘That is why I'm able to ask you to carry my will,’ Shisui continues. ‘And the Mangekyou.’

He takes a deep breath, but to Itachi it is closer to a sigh of relief. The future is such a heavy burden, and they’ve shared its weight for far too long. 

‘Thank you,’ Shisui says quietly, ‘for everything. I guess this is the end of the road for me, but this will pave a new path for you and give you a new power. You can do it. I know you can… I leave the rest to you.’ 

He pauses, and although it is a mere few seconds, to Itachi it feels like an endless void. 

‘If I die, many things will change.’ Shisui backs away slowly. His feet are mere centimetres from the edge of the cliff face, his voice almost a whisper against the roar of the waterfall. ‘I've already left a note.’

The reality of the situation crashes down on Itachi, and the tragedy is too much to bear. 

‘Shisui, wait!’

‘Don't try and stop me, Itachi.’ 

There is a moment of emptiness. A silent second. Then Shisui’s body tumbles over the edge.

Itachi leaps forward, stretching out his arm to grasp Shisui's shirt, his wrist, anything that could be used to haul him up. 

‘Shisui!’

Seconds of silence pass before a wet crack echoes. Itachi draws his eyes away. He has seen death. He has seen war and bloodshed. He watched helplessly as his old genin team were slaughtered before his eyes by a masked stranger. But right at this moment, he cannot bear to look.

Suddenly, his eyes begin to burn and sting. Wetness trickles down his cheeks as his vision becomes unerringly precise. The Mangekyou. This is Shisui's gift to him.

‘Rest in peace, Shisui.’

Itachi is sitting beside Sasuke on the engawa when he hears raised voices from the entrance of their home.

‘Is Itachi here?! We need to talk! Come on out!’

Itachi ruffles Sasuke's unruly hair as he stands and makes his way through the house. Two Uchiha clansmen are lurking by the front door. One man has greying hair whilst the other is far younger. Over their shoulders, Itachi can see a third man hovering behind.

It is the youngest who speaks first. ‘We get that you've been busy working for the Anbu, and your father tells us repeatedly that he's watching over you.’

‘But we don't plan on treating you any differently because of that," the man with greying hair finishes.

Itachi sighs. ‘Why are all of you here?’

‘There were two people who didn't show up at yesterday's meeting,’ says the elder man. Itachi recognises him as a prominent officer in the police force. But before Itachi can reply, the other speaks up.

‘Why didn't you come?’

The words are laced with accusation and Itachi knows exactly what is being insinuated. He has been under suspicion for a while due to the fact that he avoids attending clan meetings. This isn’t the first time he has been questioned about the matter. His father made it very clear that his avoidance was unbecoming, especially as the heir.

‘I understand,’ Itachi replies. ‘I will be more careful in future. Now, I'm going have to ask you to leave.’

This has little effect on the officers, who openly scowl. 

‘All right,’ the eldest says slowly. ‘But first, we want to ask you some questions about something. It’s about Uchiha Shisui, who died after throwing himself into the Nakano River last night.’

Itachi keeps a still expression. Of course, it was only a matter of time before they approached him.

‘And we, the police force, have chosen to launch an all-out investigation.’

‘Investigation?’

The young man is staring at him curiously. ‘If my memory serves me right, you looked up to him as if he were your own big brother, no?’

Itachi feels his chest ache at the thought. Of all the things to remind him of… ‘Is that so? I haven't seen him recently. His death is truly unfortunate.’

The eldest officer reaches into his pocket and draws out a folded scrap of paper. He holds it out to Itachi. 

‘This is the note left by Shisui. The handwriting analysis proves that it's definitely his.’

Itachi gingerly takes the note. ‘If there's no sign of murder, why is it that you're investigating?’ His eyes scan over the familiar writing.

'I have wearied of my duties. As it is now, the Uchiha has no future, and neither do I. I can no longer follow the path.’

‘I find it hard to believe that somebody like him,’ the youngest says, ‘a shinobi who would take on any mission for the sake of the clan, would leave a note such as this and then commit suicide just like that.’

There is silence as Itachi stares at Shisui's handwriting. A torrent of emotions flow beneath the surface, but it would be improper for him to display them right now. Instead, he closes his eyes briefly and swallows, ignoring the lump in his throat. 

‘It is not wise to judge others based on your preconceptions and by their appearances.’

‘That may be. But we also know that it would be easy for somebody with the Sharingan to mimic Shisui's handwriting.’

As Itachi reads Shisui's note over and over, savouring the last connection he has to his cousin and best friend, the officers continue to explain their suspicions. Itachi barely listens. He knows their true motive for turning up at his doorstep.

‘So,’ the youngest proposes, ‘we ask that you give the note to Anbu and request their assistance in this investigation.’

‘Understood,’ Itachi answers simply. As the three men lumber away from his front door, Itachi’s control slips as his Sharingan activates. His fingers clench around Shisui's note. ‘Why don't you come out and say it? You all suspect me, do you not?’

The three men stiffen and turn, their eyes glowing red.

‘Yeah that's right, you little punk!’

Within seconds, Itachi darts forward and grabs at their throats. It is no strain on his part. They are no match for his impressive strength and tact, and when he is finished with them they lie panting on the ground.

Itachi stands over them, fists clenched white. His resentment for the clan, for his father, for himself for allowing this to escalate, he feels the pressure welling deep inside like a dam ready to burst. 

The eldest officer shakily attempts to raise himself from the ground, but he only manages to sit up a couple of inches before his arms give way. 

‘Shisui was told to keep an eye on you.’ Blood dribbles from his lips. ‘It's been six months since you joined Anbu and your recent actions and words are more suspicious than ever. Just what are you thinking?’

Itachi watches them with disgust. The words slip out before he can stop them. ‘It's always “the clan this”... “the clan that”... You all inadequately measure your own capacity, and then fail to see the depth of mine. Now, you're lying before me, defeated. Like I said earlier, it isn't wise to judge others based on your own preconceptions. You assume that I am patient, and so you underestimate me. You hold onto the organisation, your clan, your name, but these are all things that limit us and we should detach ourselves from such trivial things.’

Knowing that they will never see beyond the limits of their bias, he watches their expressions shift from anger to bewilderment. But before he can lash out once more, a voice swiftly cuts in.

‘Stop! Itachi!’

Fugaku is standing in the street before them. He is dressed in his police uniform, having returned home from work.

‘That's enough! What’s going on? Itachi, you haven't been yourself lately.’

‘Nothing is wrong,’ Itachi replies smoothly. ‘I am simply carrying out my duties.’

His father's expression flashes with shock as Itachi spins on his heel, launching a kunai at the compound wall. The kunai splinters the rock, leaving a large crack across one of many uchiwa fans painted along its surface. 

Before he can stop himself, Itachi mutters, ’I have lost all hope for this pathetic clan.’

Scuffling and groaning, the three men get to their feet, immediately taking their places beside Fugaku as they carefully scrutinise Itachi's every move. 

‘That's enough. Keep this up and we'll throw you in jail.’

‘You lose sight of the things that are most important to you when you adhere to something as insignificant as the clan.’

‘I've had it!’ the youngest exclaims. ‘Captain, give us orders to arrest him!’

Itachi's anger courses through his limbs. His eyes start to prickle, and with startling clarity he realises that the unfamiliar sensation is in fact the Mangekyou threatening to activate. A part of him no longer cares. The clan deserves its fate. And yet, just as Itachi’s control begins to slip further, a small voice reaches his ears.

‘Big brother! Please stop it!’

Sasuke is peering at him from behind the doorframe, eyes are brimming with tears. 

His baby brother. 

Itachi drops to his knees in defeat as his heart swells with guilt. He hates the thought of Sasuke seeing this side of him, but at the same time, he needs Sasuke to know, to understand the reality of the Uchiha clan.

The cobbles are warm in the sunset as he bows to his father and apologises for his words and actions. He understands that his actions were a mistake. He had become lost within his rage. 

And yet, deep down he is glad that Sasuke saw. One day, Sasuke would come to realise just how shallow this clan truly is. 

Itachi can taste the storm brewing in the distance as he stands face to face with Danzo. They are at the edge of the woods, by the shrine gates that cover the entrance to Root. 

Itachi takes in Danzo’s frail appearance. He looks harmless, deceptively so, but knowing what this man did to Shisui makes Itachi's stomach coil. Even so, no matter how corrupt Danzo is, it cannot be denied that he holds the interests of Konoha above all else.

‘Despite what the Third Hokage said,’ Danzo begins, ‘when his hand is forced he will do whatever it takes to protect the Hidden Leaf. So far, words have failed to keep the peace.’ 

There is a pause, and Danzo’s single uncovered eye glints with something dark and mischievous.

‘I heard of your cousin's suicide. It is a great loss considering his prowess over the Sharingan.’

A cool rage sweeps over Itachi’s body like frost. The words are clearly intended to get under his skin, to trigger a violent outburst, and whilst nothing would have pleased Itachi more than forcing Danzo to face the same fate that Shisui suffered, he’s painfully aware that the Uchiha are already on thin ice. 

‘If the coup goes ahead,’ Danzo continues, ‘it will result in a civil war. If that were to happen, not only would there be countless losses within the village, but neighbouring countries would also take advantage of the turmoil and invade. To avoid this, the Third Hokage has no choice but to resort to violence in order to prevent the coup d'etat before it happens.’

Itachi’s breath catches in his throat. Danzo's eyes crinkle in pleasure.

‘I have called you here to present you with two options. Align with your clan and you will be slaughtered along with your family at the hands of Konoha's Anbu.’

A fork of lightning flashes across the sky. 

Sasuke.

As if reading his mind, Danzo explains, "Your brother is innocent, that much is true. However, if he were to be spared, it is inevitable that he will eventually learn of the Uchiha's plot. Should he realise that the village he calls home is responsible for the extermination of his clan, who is to say that he would not become vengeful and turn against the village? He would become an enemy of Konoha, and as a result he would have to be eliminated.'

There is a sharp sting in the palm of his closed fist, followed by the familiar stickiness of blood. His fingernails seem to have penetrated the skin, but Itachi welcomes the pain. 

Danzo will not touch Sasuke. If he even tries to lay a single finger on Sasuke… 

‘Of course, there is another option.’

Itachi waits for him to continue.

‘If you were to take the matter into your own hands, and exterminate every Uchiha aside from your brother, the fall of the Uchiha clan would rest on your shoulders. It would result in your becoming a criminal and living out your life as such. But your brother, Uchiha Sasuke, would be left unharmed and ignorant of the truth.’ 

A criminal? Him? He would never be able to live as Sasuke’s brother again. The thought alone sends a crushing pressure through his chest. However, he would live. Sasuke would survive. 

‘Uchiha Itachi, do you accept this mission?’

Lightning strikes once more, and Itachi sees clearly the shadows lingering behind Danzo’s lone eye.

He does not answer. He can’t just yet. And so, he walks away.

The midday sun washes over Itachi’s skin through his shirt. The feeling is divine, and if not for the cage of thoughts plaguing his mind, he would feel at peace. He is perched on the roof of the Hokage Tower, wondering how he can even begin to choose between the village and his clan.

His mother… His father… No matter which of Danzo’s options he chooses, their deaths are inevitable. Shisui entrusted him with the task of finishing what they started, but instead he has failed as a friend, as a cousin, as a clansman. 

He has failed as a son. 

Suddenly, there is a terrible crash and the Hokage Tower shakes violently. Itachi has to grip the edge of the rooftop to keep himself steady. 

And then he sees it.  

An explosion. 

Several explosions light up the village, three in total, and Itachi's heart pounds with dread as distant screams and yells fill the air. The clash of kunai reaches his trained ears, and all around him, Konoha shinobi dart across rooftops towards the sites of the attacks.

The houses, shops and market stalls… all engulfed in flames. Nausea churns in his stomach. To anybody else, it would look like an outsider attack on the village, but Itachi knows better. His gut feeling is never usually—

His body is blown backwards, a wave of heat singing his skin and hair, as an explosion racks the street in front of the Hokage Tower. 

There is a moment of weightlessness, before he crashes through the roof, landing in a heap of hot broken glass and blackened wood. Grimacing, Itachi manages to climb to his feet. Pulling hot shards of glass from his arms and legs, he pushes the throbbing pain aside and surveys his surroundings. 

He is in the middle of an unlit hallway, dust falling in a halo around him. He looks up, realising that just above his head, a chunk of the roof has been blasted away. All around him the tower is alive with the muffled footfalls of Anbu running to protect their Hokage. Hopping back onto the roof through the hole, Itachi's heart sinks at the sight of the village.

Chaos. 

The village has been reduced to chaos. 

Civilians shriek as katon jutsu sear through the streets. Itachi can identify members of the Uchiha clan dotted around, grinning at the sight of the damage. Blood is splattered across the buildings as determined Konoha shinobi attempt to rescue civilians whilst engaged in combat.

‘Uchiha-Taichou!’ 

Itachi only vaguely notices as one of his clansmen appears on the roof beside him, Sharingan activated. The man is looking at him with a guarded expression, but his eyes shift to Itachi's forehead. 

‘You’re bleeding, Taichou.’

Itachi touches his forehead with his fingertips. When he pulls away, his fingers are covered in blood. Probing further, he realises that a foreign object has pierced his temple. He yanks it out to discover a small piece of metal.

‘What’s going on here?’ Itachi asks. He does not bother to hide his disgust. ‘This was not the plan.’

The man – whom Itachi now recognises as Uchiha Shota, a former Anbu – gives him a pointed look. Shota tilts his head and with two fingers, he effortlessly launches a kunai at the remains of the building opposite. With a wet gurgle, the kunai penetrates the throat of a Yamanaka shinobi who had presumably attempted to crawl into Shota's mind.

‘The date of the attack was moved forward,’ Shota finally replies. ‘Lots of us found your behaviour suspicious, so it was suggested that you weren't to be told about it. Fugaku-sama was reluctant but—‘

‘Where is my father?’

Shota grins triumphantly. ‘I knew it. People were saying that you were against the coup. Your parents refused to acknowledge it. They said you were stressed because you're an Anbu captain. But tell me, is it true that you attacked three of our clansmen?'

Itachi’s first instinct is to punch this man. He feels his muscles tense. 

‘Apparently they asked about Shisui, so you attacked them and denounced the clan. Despite what your father says, it's true isn't it? You're the enemy—‘

Itachi's hand shoots out, grasping Shota by his collar and hoisting him up. ‘Like those men, you are trying my patience. Tell me where my father is.’

‘Tracking down the Third Hokage,’ Shota gasps, spluttering. 

Itachi knows the answer before he even asks the question. ‘To do what?’

‘Whatever it takes to win.’

In an attempt to remain calm, he assesses the situation in front of him. What should he do? His village or his family?

Sasuke. 

His fist tightens around Shota’s collar. ‘My mother and brother?’ 

Itachi's forearm stings where Shota is clawing at his wounded skin. It didn’t matter. Should anything happen to Sasuke, he would never forgive his father. Shota's answer is a warble of strangled words. 

‘The Uchiha children and elders are hidden beneath the Nakano shrine. Mikoto-sama is with them.’ 

Itachi lowers the man to the ground, only slightly relieved by the knowledge that his mother and brother are safe for now. With that matter out of the way, Itachi knows that he has to stop this madness somehow. But he barely has a chance to consider his next move, as Shota coughs and speaks. 

‘I came to find you because Fugaku-sama sent me. He wants to give you a message.’

Itachi’s eyes blaze as his Sharingan sears into the Mangekyou. 

‘What message?’

Shota's lips curl into a wicked smile. ‘Pick your side.’

Chapter Text

Itachi deflects a current of kunai and senbon as he sprints across Konoha’s rooftops. Around him, the village is in disarray. Houses are swathed in flames, if not already burned to the ground, and the streets run red with bodies and carnage. Amidst the destruction, civilians are scrabbling for shelter, covering their mouths and noses to avoid breathing in smoke and smut from the rubble. 

As Itachi leaps across burning houses, the roofs begin to crumble beneath his feet, forcing him to rely on chakra to keep from falling through. At the edge of his vision he notices a cluster of paper bombs pasted to the side of a brick wall, and several metres away, a boy – merely a toddler – is crouching on the ground, red-faced and wailing. 

Itachi makes a dive, grabs the boy and jumps seconds before the paper bombs detonate. White hot flames sear Itachi's back and shoulders as he lands safely in a small side street. He sets the boy on the ground, intending to calm his screams, but as Itachi pulls away, his chest clenches.

A exquisite red burn stretches down from the boy's chin to his collarbone. It glistens, wet with blood and blisters, and Itachi feels the weight of his failure. Despite having shielded the boy by taking the brunt of the explosion himself, it still hadn't been enough.

The boy continues to shriek in hysteria, and Itachi squats down beside him. It was becoming difficult to ignore the flare and agony of his own burns, but it was even harder to look at the boy without wincing at the sight. 

‘What is your name?’ 

This has no effect. Itachi feels himself getting desperate. ‘What about your mother?’

The boy hiccups, tears leaving tracks in the soot on his cheeks. He slurs out a hoarse, ‘Mama!'

Itachi doesn’t want to know what happened to this boy's mother. Either way, it can’t be good. Instead, he takes the boy’s pudgy hand in his own. 

'Come on,’ he says, ‘I’ll protect you.’

The boy wraps his arms around Itachi's neck, burying his face in his shirt. The extra weight causes a sharp prickling sensation to run down his burnt shoulders. But he's used to repressing pain, and so, supporting the child with one hand, Itachi continues to jump across the rooftops. Before he finds his father, he needs to make sure this boy gets to the evacuation shelters. 

As he darts between shinobi and flying weapons, Itachi sets his eyes on a family of three running in the direction of the Hokage Mountain – more specifically, the bunkers situated inside.

Itachi jumps in front of the group, blocking their path. Immediately, the daughter of the family pushes her parents behind her and raises a kunai in defence. Itachi notes from her uniform that she is a chuunin. Her mother and father stare at him in horror, whilst their daughter cleverly averts her eyes to his feet.

‘Don’t look him in the eyes!’ She instructs them, clutching her kunai with determination. 

He has to admit, he’s impressed by her proactivity. 

He raises his free hand in indication of peace as he lowers the boy to the ground. The boy is reluctant to release Itachi's shirt, but with some encouragement, he toddles toward the family. The mother scoops the boy up in her arms and scrutinizes his burns. 

‘I need you to protect this child,’ Itachi tells them. ‘Take him with you to the evacuation bunkers. Unfortunately, I don't know where his mother is.’

The mother and father only gaze at him in response, bewildered and terrified. Meanwhile, their chuunin daughter, having surmised that he was not a threat, glances up from his feet and boldly meets his Sharingan. She nods in affirmation. 

‘With my life,’ she says simply.

And with that, Itachi is gone. He leaves them to usher the toddler to safety, and although he knows deep down that he should have taken the boy directly to the bunkers, he had seen the chunnin's eyes. The fire in her eyes cast him straight back to the attack of the Nine-Tails, when he had clutched Sasuke so tightly. So long as she was still breathing, she wouldn't let any harm come to the boy.

Itachi continues to slink through the shadows until he finally senses the dark, disturbed chakra of his father, heading in the direction of Third Hokage, who is positioned at the very top of the Hokage Mountain. From the Third Hokage's chakra, Itachi can tell that he is in the midst of a very complicated sealing jutsu — one that Itachi has read about before in books. The Third Hokage is sending his chakra out in waves, each wave slowing the movements of the Uchiha, eventually exhausting them. Even Itachi can feel the subtle effect on his own body, his chakra becoming gradually less responsive over time.

Several familiar chakra signatures thrum in a protective circle around the Hokage. Anbu. Ready to pounce on anyone who dares to attack.

Their efforts are useless, however. 

Fugaku’s dangerous chakra is fast approaching the Hokage Mountain, and whilst the Anbu are strong, there was a reason why his father had been nicknamed 'Fugaku of the Wicked Eye' during the Third Great Shinobi War.

Itachi clenches his jaw. A fight with his father would be less than ideal. If he can avoid it, he will. But he also made a promise to Shisui. His muscles tense, ready to sprint across the village and put a stop to this madness. But then he pauses, and all at once, he senses it.

A chakra signature. It flickers, almost snuffed out. 

Izumi.

Itachi bolts in the opposite direction toward Izumi's chakra. It's close. Close enough that he may still be able to reach his father in time too. It's a risk to put his father aside temporarily for her sake. But he has already lost Shisui, and he can’t bear the thought of losing another of his precious people. 

He lands in a back alley, where Izumi is cornered down below, crumpled in on herself, a Konoha shinobi standing over her ready to deliver the final blow.

‘You may be a kid,’ she shinobi sneers, ‘but your whole goddamn clan is trouble. I won't show any mercy.’ 

Izumi wheezes, clutching her side. ’Please.’

‘My sister was killed by the Nine-Tails. Do you really think begging will work?’ 

The shinobi draws a senbon, aiming it at Izumi's exposed collar where her carotid artery lay just beneath her skin.

Itachi moves without thinking. With a flick of his wrist, he deals a blow to the shinobi's neck, knocking him unconscious before he can launch the senbon. The shinobi tumbles to the ground, and Itachi kicks his body away before dropping to his knees before Izumi. 

Curled like a foetus, her ninja vest is dark with blood. Her hand — slick with red — rests against her lower stomach, pressing down weakly. Itachi carefully inspects the area of her body that she's guarding so desperately. Beneath her fingers, her skin has been torn. In fact, Izumi’s limp hand is the only thing keeping her organs from spilling.

Itachi fumbles around in his weapons pouch, reaching for the small first aid kit inside. His fingers won’t cooperate as he unravels a roll of bandage, beginning to wrap it around Izumi's midsection. Too late, he remembers that the first aid kit is meant for minor scrapes only, and the rolls of bandages are too small in size and too few in number.

He needs more bandages. He needs more now. 

‘Itachi-kun.’

Something trickles down Izumi’s cheek, pooling in the hollow of her throat. At that moment, Itachi finally realises that he is crying. She's barely awake, eyes slit open and voice sleepy, but there’s an unmistakable relief in her eyes. With the back of his hand, he wipes the tears from his face, smearing some of Izumi's blood on his cheek in the process.

‘Izumi.’ He takes her chin, forcing her to keep her eyes on him. ‘I'm going to find a medic. Just stay awake. If you shut your eyes you’ll—‘

‘Itachi-kun.'

She smiles and Itachi no longer holds back his tears. One lands on her lip, trickling into her mouth.

‘I can taste them,’ she says, ‘your feelings for me.’ 

Itachi's body convulses as he sobs silently. And at that moment, he doesn’t know what to say to her. He doesn’t know how he fix this. 

‘People always saw us as a couple,’ she mumbles, her voice strained. ‘They said we would probably marry. I've always wondered if you were uncomfortable with that. I was worried you were being forced into spending your life with me just because of what everyone expected. But it's okay. I understand now.’

Itachi's eyes burn as he activates his Mangekyou. Holding Izumi's gaze, he shows her how things should have happened if not for their cursed family tree.

He shows her how they would have grown up, climbing the ranks of the ninja world and dreaming of peace together. The two of them in their mid twenties, sitting on the edge of the Uchiha dock as Itachi pulls a ring from his pocket and asks her the question on his mind.

The image of Izumi, beautiful as a lily in a wedding kimono as he takes her hand in his own. Their wedding night, and the feeling of being impossibly close to one another.

Sitting side by side on the veranda of their home, Izumi's stomach swollen with a prawny little thing that won't stop kicking. Itachi reciting his favourite poems to their unborn child, much to Izumi’s distaste.

The birth of their first child, their daughter, who screams and kicks as she announces to the world that she has finally arrived. Their second child, a son, with his father's hair and his mother's dry humour. Itachi and Izumi walking their children to the Academy as the seasons pass.

Itachi eventually retiring from being a shinobi, preferring instead to find happiness in growing vegetables and welcoming his children home from missions.

Growing old together. Itachi looking forward to meeting his grandchildren, and Izumi who has taken up jam-making, but finds the most fun in forcing her husband to test her trial batches. He doesn't mind, despite his frequent jokes about being used as a guinea pig.

Eventually passing away in their sleep, one after the other.

By the time Itachi pulls them both from the genjutsu, Izumi's eyes have already begun to darken. The reality is a far cry from the perfect vision they both just witnessed. Izumi dies at the age of thirteen, in the midst of a civil war, crumpled up in an alley, and bleeding out on a bed of damp newspaper and rubble.

A minute. Perhaps longer. 

Itachi doesn’t know how long he has remained by her side, only that he cannot bring himself to move. In spite of the surrounding noise, he can't see beyond the limp body in his arms. Slowly, he wills himself to set her down. 

It takes a long moment for him to regain control over his limbs, to push through the numbness that holds him in an unrelenting grip. Somewhere in this hollow void, he decides to rearrange her body in a more dignified position. And only then does Itachi allow himself one last look. 

He would like to stay longer, to protect her dignity from the battles around them. But he can't afford to waste time. He has to move before it's too late.

Reluctantly, he tears himself away from the scene and races across the village, senses honed completely on his father's chakra signature. Although his chakra is drained from his Tsukuyomi, he feels a certain fire in his veins. A need to protect, to bring this godforsaken coup to an end. 

Shisui… Izumi… He can’t bear to lose another person. 

So far, most of the Anbu guards' chakra signatures have been cut completely. Some are grasping at life by a thread. This can only mean one thing — that his father has taken them out. From what he can tell, his father and the Third Hokage are facing one another, unmoving. This is no surprise. Sarutobi Hiruzen is not a violent man. Itachi knows that the Third will do his best to quell Fugaku's rage before resorting to any violence. 

Itachi only hopes that he can make it in time. 

As he begins to climb up the Hokage Mountain, the sounds of clashing metal grow louder. He runs faster. Faster than he ever thought he could. The Hokage's attempts to reason with words can’t have lasted long. Nearing the top, Itachi hears their familiar voices. Names of jutsu, grunts of pain, growls of anger.

Then finally, two figures at the top of the mountain come into view. His father and the Sarutobi Hiruzen are circling one another. They seem to be talking about the Nine-Tails attack, about the lack of trust, about how the village council could have found a way to give the Uchiha a more central role but decided to shun them instead. The Third Hokage is clutching an antique chokuto, looking more weary than ever before. 

‘We can settle this Fugaku-san. The Uchiha will be incorporated into the decisions of the village, and we can move your district closer. There will be no punishment of treason. All I ask is that you call off this attack.’

Fugaku’s fingers begin to form a seal. It’s so subtle, so quick, that Itachi wouldn’t have noticed if not for the Sharingan.

‘It's interesting,’ Fugaku murmurs. ‘You said the same things years ago. And so did the Second.’

Fugaku makes to release a whirlwind of fire.

‘Father!’

Itachi locks eyes with Fugaku, and for once, he no longer recognises his father under the miasma of hatred. Can a man so corrupted be reasoned with? Itachi had no choice but to try. 

‘Father, this is madness. Stop the attacks.’

Fugaku’s expression darkens. ‘I see you’ve chosen your side.’

Itachi shakes his head, unable to shake off his growing frustration at the blind ignorance of his clan. 

‘This isn't about choosing sides,’ he pleads. ’This is about the fact that there are families, children, dying down there. Not just civilians, but Uchiha too.’

Suddenly, Hiruzen's chakra flashes. There is a glint of metal as Itachi's Sharingan struggles to keep up. But when it does, his heart jumps. The Third Hokage has taken advantage of the distraction, standing poised with his chokuto raised, ready to strike Fugaku through the chest. But what disturbs Itachi the most is the fact that his father is simply standing there, having barely noticed the Third’s attack.

And everything builds up. The death of his genin team many years before, Shisui's suicide, the agony of Danzo's impossible mission, the motherless boy, Izumi's death.

His body moves on its own.

He flash steps in front of his father, ready to take the blow himself or at least deflect it. Itachi is almost out of chakra, his body floating and disconnected, yet still moving all the same. 

But when the blow comes, it does not hit.

The Third Hokage doubles over, blood spilling over the gravel ground. He collapses on his knees, eyes rolling back. The chokuto protrudes through his chest, a red stain darkening his uniform. His body twitches, then stills.

Itachi looks down at his hands where he can still feel the hilt’s shadow. A wave of disgust washes over him as he realises that Sarutobi Hiruzen is dead.

He cannot turn. He can barely even breathe. But somehow, he hears his father’s voice from several meters away. 

‘I knew you had it in you. You’re my son and an Uchiha after all.’

Immediately it dawns on Itachi that he has been fooled. His bonds with his family and the emotion at the thought of losing his father had overridden his ability to realise that Fugaku was in no real danger.

‘Genjutsu,’ Itachi breathes, recognising with newfound clarity the sheer power of his father's Sharingan.

Itachi has no recollection of his father setting up the illusion. The execution was seamless, and there was no distinguishing fantasy from reality. Had Fugaku set it up the moment Itachi appeared, or perhaps sometime before? Had his father sensed his arrival and carefully laid out this genjutsu? What was real and what was simply illusion? The lack of control over his own mind has left Itachi deeply disturbed. Even his memory can no longer be trusted. 

And his father… he really is Fugaku of the Wicked Eye.

Itachi cannot feel his legs. He doesn't know where he should go from here. What happens now? Where does this end?

Fugaku strides over to the Third’s body, placing a foot on Hiruzen's lifeless chest as leverage as he pulls the chokuto free. Paying Itachi no attention, he stands at the edge of the mountain face. 

‘Come,’ he orders, and jumps. 

Itachi doesn't know what to do. He has always prided himself on his ability to plan and calculate his decisions. But right now, he is at a loss. And yet, his legs betray him. They move at their own accord, following after his father as he jumps from the edge and makes his way down towards the village.

His father is waiting for him on the roof of the Hokage Tower. Or at least, what remains of the roof. 

Fugaku gazes at Itachi proudly, and with two fingers in his mouth, sends out a shrill whistle. Within seconds, heads turn to Fugaku and Itachi. Konoha shinobi drop to their knees, some crying out as they lay eyes on the ancient sword in Fugaku’s hand, others go still with shock. Fugaku raises the bloodied chokuto above his head.

‘This is our revival!’

When Sakura regained consciousness, she was overcome with the faint scent of laundry and pine. It was pleasant, but so unfamiliar. Upon opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of Itachi's form hovering over her. Her first instinct was to bolt upright, before a hand on her shoulder pushed her back down.

‘Be careful, Sakura. The tsukuyomi can cause dizziness.'

Glancing around, she found that she was lying on her living room floor, her head and shoulders resting in Itachi’s lap. She was safe. She knew as much. But her heart wouldn’t stop racing as the vision of the Third Hokage's death glowed fresh in her mind.

The Third Hokage… 

She shoved him backwards, dizzily crawling away into the corner of the room as she clutched her aching head, wishing that she hadn’t witnessed such a vile scene. The Third. Itachi had killed him. It wasn’t his fault, he was manipulated by his father, but still… 

‘Sakura, you’re alright.’ 

‘It’s not alright.’ She shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes. The whole room was spinning, her eyes unable to focus. ‘None of this is alright.’ 

Itachi made no move to approach her. But he was looking at her with caution. ‘You wanted me to show you the truth.’

‘I know, I know. It’s just…’ Her tears flowed freely now. ‘I always knew that you were the one who killed him. Everyone knows it was you. Sasuke used to talk about it like he was proud, but I didn’t realise— I can’t believe your father would… And the Third, how could he allow Danzo to do something like that? The whole situation is so…’ 

‘Complicated?’ Itachi offered. 

She swallowed. ‘Yeah. It’s complicated.’ 

That’s putting it mildly. 

The way he was looking at her made her a little uncomfortable. There was a mixture of pity and remorse in his eyes, as though he regretted ever showing her his past. The last thing she wanted was his pity. Especially since he was far more pitiful than she would ever be. The things he’d done, the things he’d witnessed — the real Uchiha Itachi was far more complex than she could have imagined him to be. 

He was an Uchiha, but he was a victim too.  

Bracing a hand against the wall, she slowly clambered to her feet. The air stirred, and he was suddenly behind her, helping her up onto the couch. 

'You don't have to do that,’ she said nervously, wiping away any leftover tears. ‘It’s bad enough I was using you as a pillow.’ 

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You lost consciousness and I caught you. Would you rather I let you fall to the floor?’

‘You don't have to be sassy about it.’

‘I believe this is the first time I've been called sassy,’ he mused.

‘Oh believe me, you can be really sassy at times, Itachi. I'm surprised nobody else has brought it up.’

Itachi didn't seem to justify this with an answer. He simply leaned against the arm of the couch opposite her, arms folded across his chest. Sakura was grateful for his silence. She didn’t have the energy to hold up a full conversation. She was sitting cross legged on the floor. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous, not just because of the lingering effects of the Tsukuyomi, but also at what she had witnessed. The streets stained red with blood, the crack of Shisui's body hitting the rocks, the Third Hokage’s gurgled last breaths.

And Izumi too…

She recalled the moment of the girl's death with mixed feelings. In the world of Itachi’s genjutsu, Sakura had felt the full extent of his anguish and his desire to remain in the vision he had so extensively crafted for Izumi. Looking at him now, there was a stark difference between the Itachi of the past and the Itachi standing before her. He was so guarded as a person, it seemed invasive to have bourn witness to his memories, thoughts and emotions. But at the same time, she held nothing but respect for this man who, after having lost almost everything, was still fighting for his dream of peace seventeen years later.

A sudden thought struck her. 

‘What happened to Danzo?’

Itachi gave a minimal shrug. ‘He vanished. I didn’t see him again after receiving my orders. It’s speculated that he fled the village along with Root and the other elders.’

She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. ‘And Izumi?’

‘What about her?’

‘You said there was someone,’ Sakura said. ‘That was her, wasn't it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Didn't it bother you that she was willing to kill for the sake of the Coup? She was against the village, and in your memories you said that your clan was afflicted by a family curse. I mean… well, she was technically the enemy—‘

‘You're wrong.’ 

Itachi's voice was sharp as a glacier, and Sakura’s heart skipped a beat. Over the last few days, she had almost forgotten about Itachi's dreadful reputation. No matter what he had done for the village in the past, it didn’t change what he was capable of. If he wanted to, he could snap her neck right now in this living room. Her death would be so swift, she wouldn’t even have time to scream. 

‘Izumi was easily influenced,’ he said. ‘She was led astray by my father and the clan, that much is true. But at no point was she an enemy.'

She felt like a reprimanded child. The cold distance in Itachi's tone quashed any desire she had to argue with him. It was clear that he would defend Izumi endlessly, no matter what she said. It wasn't that Sakura thought that the girl was evil. From what she had seen, Izumi was dear to him. But this was all Sakura knew about her. As far as she was concerned, Izumi was an active participant in the coup. She was out in the village with an arsenal of weapons, prepared to kill for the sake of the very revolution that destroyed Sakura’s family. And for that reason, Sakura refused to feel sorry for her. 

‘You loved her.’

You loved her in spite of her actions.

He hesitated, before replying, ‘I loved her as deeply as a thirteen year old boy knows how to love.’

Sakura didn't know why she felt the need to ask, but the question seemed to be pressing on her mind. ‘Were you in love with her?’

To her surprise, Itachi didn't regard her question with distain. Instead, he shrugged as a wry smile danced over his lips. 

‘It is impossible to know. Like I said, I was thirteen. To what extent can a thirteen year old truly experience romantic love?’

With a flash of embarrassment, Sakura’s mind was cast back to her days of 'loving' Sasuke. It had started when she was eight years old, and they had finally returned to the academy after the building’s reconstruction was finished and the political climate had settled. In the midst of her loneliness and grief, she had been confused by her feelings for Sasuke. He was an Uchiha, and she had hated his very guts. Yet her eyes had been drawn to his every move, following him across the room. Eventually, her feelings flourished over the years. Now, looking back, her 'love' for Sasuke consisted largely of worshipping the ground he walked on and plastering every inch of her bedroom walls with photographs of him. In retrospect, her ‘love' had been nothing more than infatuation. However, she firmly believed that under the right circumstances, those feelings would have developed into a more genuine love.

Perhaps if Sasuke's father hadn't been responsible for the death of her parents, she would have allowed herself to pursue those feelings. 

‘You’re tired,’ Itachi said, breaking her out of her reverie. 

Sakura suddenly realised that her head was lolling back on the couch cushion, her eyes threatening to close. In truth, she wasn’t tired at all. Closing her eyes simply kept the nausea at bay.  

‘I should leave and let you rest.’ Itachi began to walk towards the door. ‘We can continue our discussion another day.’

‘Not yet!’ Sakura exclaimed, forcing herself to sit upright. ‘I want to ask you about Shisui.’

‘Another time, perhaps.’ 

‘No,’ she insisted. ‘I want to know now.’

There was a beat of silence. Itachi's face betrayed nothing as he made his way back to the couch, sitting opposite her with his elbows braced against his knees.

‘What was the technique that he had? The Kotoamekami?’

‘The Kotoamatsukami,’ Itachi corrected her. ‘It’s a technique that allows the user to influence the thoughts of an individual. So it could either cause the person to think repeatedly about a certain subject, or it could cause them to lose interest altogether. It’s a technique that is unique to Shisui alone.’

Is?

‘You’re taking about it like it still exists.’

Itachi nodded, explaining, ‘As I'm sure you remember, Shisui gifted his remaining eye to me. Even though he’s no longer here, his eye is still intact.’ 

Everything clicked into place. ‘So it can still be used?’ 

‘I used the Kotoamatsukami several years ago in an attempt to sway my father. But every technique has a drawback. It’s unfortunate, but the Kotoamatsukami can only be used once every decade, and even then, it can only be used on one individual at a time.’

‘Ahh… I’m guessing it didn’t work.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Itachi said. ‘My father went through a phase of wanting to take down some of the restrictions around the village, but the Uchiha elders stepped in and claimed that he was unwell and unfit to make decisions on behalf of the village.’  

Any shred of hope suddenly disappeared, and Sakura understood why Itachi hadn’t felt that the technique was worth mentioning before now. 

Fugaku must have become corrupted again, even with the Kotoamatsukami. How can such a powerful jutsu be so limited?

‘If possible,’ Itachi added, ‘I would like to keep the Kotoamatsukami as a last resort. Perhaps for the future.’

‘I agree,’ Sakura said. ‘It's a powerful technique, but in a twisted way I get why Danzo was so hesitant about it.’ At this, Itachi's eyes flickered to hers. ‘Even if we tried using it again, we could only use it on your father. It wouldn’t have any effect on the rest of the clan.’

‘That is why if I can avoid having to rely on it, I will.’ 

With a sigh, he stood. In the shadows of her living room, Itachi looked impossibly tall, even though he was actually very average height-wise. It was evident that he wished to leave, and intending on showing him to the door, Sakura got to her feet. However, as she did, the room tilted. 

In a heartbeat, there he was again. His hand was on her lower back, steadying her as she clung to his arm for support.

‘I told you. You shouldn't move so hastily,' Itachi chided, paying no attention to the furious blush on Sakura's cheeks as he scooped her up. ‘If anything, you should know the side effects of the Tsukuyomi better than anyone. If you can, avoid overworking tomorrow. Or better yet, request the day off.’

Sakura was too lightheaded to protest as he carried her to the bedroom. She was struggling to keep her eyes open and didn't bother resisting as he set her down on the bed, pulling the covers around her. Her mind was already lost to the world when he spoke his parting words.

‘Rest now, Sakura.’

Chapter Text

Leaving Sakura wrapped up in bedsheets and sleeping soundly, Itachi wandered through her apartment. Out of courtesy, he switched off the lamps in the living room and straightened the cushions on her couch. It was surreal that one day, he would marry this woman. All he knew of her was what his baby brother had told him. But within the last week, he felt that Sakura had become less of an acquaintance and more of… what?

A friend? Not quite. She is something different entirely.

He couldn't place it. His budding relationship with Sakura was unlike his relationships with Shisui or Izumi. It couldn't be put into words because it was ever changing. One minute she was merely an acquaintance, and the next, she had stepped into his memories.

He had never imagined marrying anybody other than Izumi, even though he knew that marriage was expected of him. Although he had initially approached Sakura with business in mind rather than pleasure, standing in her apartment, he found himself wanting to learn more about this woman.

For the most part, her apartment was neglected. Dishes had been left in the sink and the surfaces needed dusting. A lot of dusting. Itachi picked up a framed photograph and wiped away the layer of dust coating the glass. It was a picture of a woman with brown hair twisted into a tight bun. She was cradling a young girl on her knee, and they were both dressed in traditional kimono. Itachi recognised Sakura instantly by her hair and large green eyes. The woman, however, looked very different. 

Her mother? 

It was unusual that such treasured photographs were covered in dust. But judging by the meticulously placed ornaments and the tidy stack of books on the coffee table, Sakura was not a messy person by nature. The state of her home could be explained by her lack of free time. Sasuke had often complained that Sakura was being worked into the ground.

Itachi understood this well; his own surroundings suffered whenever he was away on missions. It wasn't unusual for him to return home to find a thin coat of dust over his bed. However, it was extremely unlikely that Sakura had been on a mission recently. After her tutelage with Tsunade was discovered, Sakura’s missions were capped. The only missions she received now were usually medical in nature, and should she leave the village, she would be accompanied by a trusted member of Anbu. Even in these cases, Sakura's missions were usually of little import. His father didn't trust her with anything high-ranking.

It's a shame that her abilities have not been put to better use.

As Itachi silently explored her home, he wondered how much it truly bothered her. He had yet to see her complain about being tied to the village, but she probably hid her frustration from her friends. They were already frustrated enough about the situation. In fact, Itachi distinctly remembered one evening in which Sasuke returned home fuming and had refused to eat with their father present. As far as Itachi recalled, Sasuke had not spoken to Fugaku for the two months following, and the tension between the two sparked all sorts of rumours within the Uchiha clan.

Foolish little brother… Father is too far gone to see sense. 

Itachi thought he'd seen every room in Sakura’s apartment when he noticed a door in the corner of the living room. It was hidden in the shadows, and at first, he assumed that it was merely a cupboard. The door was no taller than four feet, and both the door and handle was painted white to blend into the wall. It was only when he picked up on the sharp scent of incense that he decided to investigate.

He had an inkling of what was behind the door, and he knew he should walk away out of respect for Sakura's privacy. But some strange part of him felt that she owed him a glimpse into her own past. She had borne witness to some of his most personal memories, and was it so selfish that she should return the favour? 

He took the handle and opened it.

His suspicions were correct, and he felt a weight tug at his chest.

The shrine was small but well decorated. Half-melted candles were arranged around two photographs. The resemblance Sakura shared with each was incredible — her mother's eyes and mouth, and her father's nose and cheekbones. The two pictures were copies of the regulatory photographs that all villagers are requested to have taken as part of their official paperwork. Itachi had a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that any other photographs had been destroyed in the coup. That could only mean… 

That other woman, she must be an aunt. 

In front of the photographs, Sakura had set up an assortment of objects, including a single wedding ring, a piece of a broken teacup, a hairbrush entangled with blonde hair, and a charred notebook.

At this point, Itachi knew that he had overstepped a boundary. He closed the cupboard door, and without a backward glance, left through the open window.

‘What do you mean my shift is covered?’

Sakura was barely lucid, clutching the phone with one hand as she pulled on her vest with the other. After sleeping through her alarm — and waking up with a splitting headache half an hour later than usual — she had called the hospital in a panic to explain that she would be running late. However, it looked as though she needn’t have bothered. There was a rustle on the other line as Tajima Ikue, the hospital receptionist, filtered through sheets of paper.

‘We received a message this morning stating that Haruno-Sensei is to have today off,’ Ikue replied smoothly. ‘I don't know the specifics of who sent the order, but I’m looking at the rota right now and Hiroshi-sensei is covering your shift instead.’

Sakura had an inkling as to who had organised this, and she made a mental note to treat him to some premium dango as a thank you gift. 

‘I see. Thanks for letting me know, Ikue-san,’ Sakura said.

‘You're welcome,’ Ikue replied, ‘I'll see you tomorrow, Haruno-sensei.’

Putting the phone down, Sakura crawled back into her bed with relief. She rubbed at her temple, idly sending chakra to soothe her headache. Itachi’s Tsukuyomi had taken its toll on her. If Sakura hadn't been a medic, the after effects would probably have been far worse. And yet, she felt as though she were suspended underwater. The pain above her temple had been reduced to a dull throb, and her joints and muscles were weak and sore.

But this wasn't going to stop her from making the best of her time off. Yes, Itachi had given her this day to rest. However, it was because of her work that she barely had time to spend with her teammates. There was no need to spar or train with them; she was just happy to enjoy their company for a while. 

And so, later that morning, Sakura left her apartment and located the familiar warmth of Kakashi's chakra. She found him on the very bridge that had served as their meeting spot as genin. His nose was buried in a copy of Make out Tactics, and he showed no acknowledgement of her presence.

‘Well this is surprising,’ he said at last, glancing her way as she leant against the railings beside him. ‘Aren't you usually at the hospital by now?’

‘Not today,’ she grinned. ‘I've been given a day off.’

His eye crinkled. ‘I'm glad. You're always overworked. A breather will be good for you.’ With one glance at her clothes, he added, ‘I'm guessing you're not here to train.’

‘I'm kind of supposed to be resting today.’

‘Oh? What happened this time?’

She laughed nervously. ‘Just overuse of chakra again,’ she lied. ‘You know me.’

Kakashi hummed in mock disapproval, although Sakura could sense the genuine concern under his facade. ‘What use is a medic who collapses from exhaustion?’

She brushed him off with a gentle smile. ‘You worry about me too much Kakashi-sensei. I can handle myself.’

‘I'm sure you can Sakura, but that doesn't change the fact that—‘ He paused, then sighed. ‘Naruto and Sasuke have sensed your chakra. They'll be here soon.’

Within less than a minute, Naruto and Sasuke appeared in the distance. Sakura almost giggled at the sight of them strolling casually, as though she hadn't sensed their chakra signatures racing through the village only seconds prior.

‘Sakura-chan!’ Naruto waved.

Sasuke followed close behind, smiling faintly in amusement.

‘Shocked to see me?’ she teased.

Naruto sheepishly scratched the back of his head. ‘Sort of. When I saw you with Kakashi-sensei just now, I thought you were a ghost.’

Sakura lightly slapped him across the head, causing Sasuke to smirk. ‘You saw me a couple of days ago. We even ate ramen together. How could you forget?’

‘You know what the idiot's like,’ Sasuke said. ‘He can't even remember what he had for breakfast this morning.’

‘Oi!’ Naruto shook his fist. ‘You bet your ass I can remember. It was cup ramen, curry flavour too!’

Sakura wrinkled her nose. ‘Ramen for breakfast?’

‘Yep, you should try it some time Sakura-chan. It tastes way better in the morning.’

Sasuke shrugged, nonchalant.  ‘I don't know why you're so surprised, Sakura.’ 

He's not wrong. What else did I expect?

‘I know, I shouldn't be so surprised.’ She turned to Naruto. ‘You realise you're a walking heart-attack waiting to happen, right? You’ll be the first ninja to die from excess sodium.’

Naruto opened his mouth to protest, however the moment was lost as Kakashi tucked his book back into his pouch and clapped his hands. 

‘Well then,’ Kakashi said, smiling beneath his mask. ‘It's great to have the entire team here, especially since I know how hard it is for you to get away from the hospital, Sakura. Obviously, since you mentioned that you're supposed to be resting, you won't be training with us today—‘

‘Hold on,’ Naruto cut in. ‘How come Sakura-chan is resting?’ 

His large blue eyes were fixated on her with worry, whereas Sasuke eyed her knowingly.

‘You've exhausted your chakra again.’

She sighed deeply. Heaven knows she hated lying to her teammates. ‘Kind of. That's why I've been given the day off. I have to rest up before going back to work tomorrow.’

Naruto sulked, pouting like a toddler. ‘It's not fair. What do you even do that takes so much time anyway?’

Sakura wished she was better at lying. A moment’s hesitation could easily give her away. Her work creating antidotes to airborne poisons was confidential, and no matter how much she trusted her team with all her heart, she was under a strict oath not to speak about her current projects. If word escaped that Konoha had developed antidotes to suspected airborne poisons, enemy villages would keep adapting their poisons, rendering Sakura's hard work useless.

And so, unable to speak the truth, Sakura settled for a slightly curved version of it. 

‘I heal people,’ she said. ‘You know that already, Naruto. What else do medics do?’

Although Naruto seemed to be placated with her answer, she was painfully aware that Kakashi was eyeing her stonily. Perhaps he knew what her work truly entailed. Even if he did, he would never talk about it. That was just the kind of man Kakashi was.

‘If that's the case,’ Naruto exclaimed, ‘then when I become Hokage, you'll never have to work this hard again Sakura-chan. At least not enough to drain your chakra.’

At this, Sakura's heart sank. Despite her agreement with Itachi, she knew that it would be a long time before Naruto would even be considered a viable candidate for the title. There were just too many hurdles. The biggest being that the political wrongs of the village needed to be set right.

‘Hn. The Hokage title is reserved for the Uchiha, Idiot.’

And just like that, the air seemed thinner. 

Sakura bit her tongue to keep from saying anything. Sasuke was surprisingly unlike the rest of his clan; he was unaffected by the Curse of Hatred that was rumoured to run in his family. But there would always be a bridge that Sasuke failed to cross regarding the brutal reality of his clan. 

Sakura recalled Itachi's memories vividly. The Uchiha children had taken shelter beneath the Naka Shrine, blind and deaf to the chaos above. It hadn't taken much effort to convince a group of children that their clan was superior to others. Sasuke had never stumbled across the charred remains of bodies. He had never ran barefoot through the streets as buildings burned around him. He had never experienced the horrors that stripped Naruto of his independence, Kakashi of his Sharingan, and Sakura of her parents. 

She was grateful when Kakashi swiftly began the morning training. Whilst his expression was concealed behind his mask, Sakura knew that he had also felt the unmistakable tension in the air.

Itachi knocked on the door to his father's office, however it wasn’t truly necessary. Fugaku recognised his son's chakra signature instantly.

‘Come in, Itachi.’

Itachi stepped inside and bowed stiffly. His father did not look up. ’You requested my presence.’

‘I did, yes.’ 

Fugaku rooted through his desk drawer before pulling out a mission scroll. He pushed it across the desk, where Itachi took it and lazily surveyed its contents. 

‘An infiltration mission.’

‘There has been an increase in the number of Kiri nin found along the border,’ Fugaku explained. ‘A team of Anbu ran into a group of them recently. They claimed that they were on a mission escorting a client, but we had a sensory-type amongst our squad, and there was no client seen or sensed in the area. I'm sure you’ve already read the reports.’

Itachi nodded. He had read over the details several times, perplexed by the situation. The Kiri nin had simply stated that they were on an escort mission, refusing to speak further. Any finer details were confidential and Konoha Anbu had no right to demand such information from another hidden village.

‘Normally, I would avoid sending you on a mission like this,’ Fugaku continued, folding his arms. ‘You are one of my strongest shinobi, and you are also my son and heir. If the Mizukage is indeed sending agents to potentially infiltrate Konoha, I would prefer to keep my strongest men here, should worst come to worst.’

It did not escape Itachi's notice that in his father's list of importance, Itachi's strength as a ninja took higher priority than their blood relation. But he said nothing on the matter.

‘There are very few people I trust with this mission,’ Fugaku said. ‘The villagers of Kirigakure have been suspicious of strangers for a long time, especially considering their bloody history. In order to complete this mission successfully, I need two ninja with high stealth and the ability to extract information without drawing attention.’

Itachi raised an eyebrow. ‘Surely there are Anbu operatives more suited to the job?’

‘The Anbu are needed here,’ Fugaku insisted. ‘They are to guard the village walls. I have said this already, Itachi.’ His voice lowered to a murmur, and Itachi could no longer be sure whether Fugaku was talking to his son, or to himself. ‘Naturally, Yamanaka Inoichi would be perfect for something like this. His information gathering abilities are some of the finest I've seen. But I want this mission to be carried out by loyal shinobi I can trust.’

There was an unmistakable venom behind those words. Itachi hadn't forgotten the incident many years ago in which the Yamanaka, Nara and Akimichi clans united to strike a rebellion, the result of which had included several further losses, including Yamanaka Inoichi's arm. From that point on, a curfew and lockdown on all inter-clan mingling was ensued as a means of preventing further conspiracy. The trio of clans had made a formidable enemy, and had it not been for an agent collecting information from the inside, the Uchiha clan would have fallen easily.

Information is the most valuable weapon of all.

‘There’s another matter to consider,’ Fugaku said, snapping Itachi out of his thoughts. ‘I would also like your recommendation for a suitable partner on this mission.’

Whilst the mission could technically be achieved by one ninja working solo, two nin working together maximised the volume of information gathered, while still being inconspicuous enough not to rouse attention. From the moment Itachi laid eyes on the mission slip, he knew that this was an opportunity he couldn’t let slide.

‘I have someone in mind,’ he replied. ‘I have reason to believe that Haruno Sakura would be an asset on this mission.’

Fugaku's expression instantly darkened. 

‘As you know,’ Itachi said, ‘her chakra control is flawless. She would be able to conceal her kunoichi background without error. And should the mission fail, the combination of her medical skills and field strength would boost our chances of us both returning in one piece.’

Fugaku looked far from impressed. If anything, his lip curled in disgust. ‘As I said, I want somebody I can trust.’

‘You trust me,’ Itachi interjected. ‘And I can assure you that I’d keep watch over her at all times.’

His father was practically seething at the suggestion of Sakura on such an important mission. But after a moment's thought, Fugaku gave Itachi a reluctant nod.

‘I don't like this, but I trust your judgement, Itachi. Do not let me down.’

With that, Itachi bowed and left the office. As far as he knew, Sakura's last mission had involved gathering medicinal herbs from a rural village at the border between Fire and Wind country. Whilst it would have been a peaceful mission, he suspected that deep down Sakura missed taking on something high-ranked. She was sure to be thrilled about their mission together, and the simple thought of Sakura's excitement left Itachi smiling.

It hadn’t taken long for a Team Seven training session to turn into an all-out brawl between Sasuke and Naruto over who could punch holes in the most trees. Sakura would have happily put them both in their place, if not for her “chakra exhaustion”, and wisely chose to stay well away from the destruction. 

She had left them bickering over their scores, slipping away from the training grounds without either of them noticing. As much as she wished to stay and kick some sense into her idiotic teammates, Sakura had something else in mind. She wanted to pay Ino a visit. A proper visit this time. She had several hours before curfew, and she knew that the pig would be dying to gossip and chat freely without the clock ticking over their heads.

The two shinobi guarding the gates of the Yamanaka compound were different than last time. In fact, Sakura recognised one of them as Uchiha Tomoharu – a chunin only a couple of years younger than her and innocently swept up in his clan’s powerful grip. She had once saved after a botched mission. His team had carried him into the hospital, his leg slashed in several places and clearly septic. If not for Sakura’s team working on him all through the night, Tomoharu wouldn't have made it. Although Sakura had always made it clear that his teammates were the real heroes, Tomoharu never failed to show his gratitude towards her.

As she approached the gates, Tomoharu flashed her a boyish grin.

‘The gods must be rewarding me,’ he said. ‘It's been a long day and I didn't think I would be lucky enough to run into you, Sakura-sensei.’

She smiled automatically. Tomoharu was just like that; the warmth he radiated as a person made it impossible to place him alongside his relatives. In fact, now that Sakura thought about it, there was something about Tomoharu’s sunny nature that struck her as familiar. 

He’s so much like Shisui…  

Her heart ached at the memory of Shisui’s fate. 

‘Believe me,’ she said, ‘if anyone’s lucky here, it’s me. How have you been Tomoharu-kun?’

‘Sama.’ The other guard's steely voice cut through. He was glaring at Sakura. ‘You may refer to him as “Uchiha-sama” and nothing less.’

Tomoharu shifted uncomfortably, looking at his prickly partner with uncertainty. It was clear that he wanted to stand up for her, but didn’t want to make things worse. Sakura, however, was used to the Uchiha ruining her day. It felt so backwards, being forced to call Tomoharu by a name that he didn’t like. But it was the world they lived in. 

‘I guess we'll have to catch up some other day,’ Tomoharu muttered. This time, his smile was forced.

‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘Perhaps when you’re not on duty.’

He nodded, and his mannerisms shifted, taking on an air of formality. ‘In that case, you may proceed, Sakura-sensei.’

Sakura bowed and walked through the web of chakra. It was strange watching Tomoharu's personality warp as he embraced his role as a guard. It was also so, so wrong. He was twenty. A chunin. He should have been out, having the time of his life on missions, not stuck on guard duty.

At least he actually reached his twentieth birthday. Shisui and Izumi weren't so lucky.

The thought weighed heavily on her mind as she strolled past rows of houses. Things hadn't changed at all. Whether it was Shisui, Itachi, Izumi, Tomoharu or even herself, children had always been forced to grow up a little too fast.

Don't think about it. It's your day off.

The voice in the back of her mind was right. This day was a gift. Dwelling on the cruel realities of life would only bring her sadness. 

She ploughed on through the Yamanaka district until she came to Ino's door. Unfortunately, it was Ino's mother who answered, inspecting Sakura shrewdly before explaining that Ino was out training. Sakura thanked her, and hoping not to drag out the tension any further, headed in the direction of the Yamanaka training fields. 

There was something about the training fields that soothed Sakura. While the main area had been cleared of any wilderness for ease, the grounds themselves were situated in a large meadow. Around the perimeter, the grass was sweet with wildflowers — flowers that many years ago, Sakura and Ino had strung together to make necklaces and fairy crowns.

‘Pig!’ Sakura called. Shin-deep in wavy grass and buttercups, she peered through the foliage. ‘It's me! I heard you were out here!’

Somewhere in the trees there was a snap of twigs, and Seconds later, a purple blur hopped down from a branch. Ino looked exhausted, her hair sticking to her face and her clothes brushed with soil. 

‘Hey Forehead.’ Ino predictably cornered her in a tight hug. ‘It’s funny, I was just thinking of taking a breather.’

The two sat down against the trunk of a large oak. Ino sipped at a water bottle and with one wrist, wiped the sweat from her forehead. Sakura closed her eyes and leant her head back against the bark. The afternoon sun warmed the exposed skin of her arms and legs, and Sakura could have easily fallen asleep right then and there.

‘So Itachi, huh?’

Oh no…

Sakura tensed, cracking her eyes open just enough to see Ino's sneaky smile. 

‘What about him?’ She asked, trying to brush off her nerves. ‘You know you can’t just go around calling him by his first name, what if somebody heard you? Plus, it’s rude.’

Ino hissed, and flicked Sakura’s upper arm. ’Don't play dumb with me, Forehead. I saw you together.’

’You saw us?’

‘Of course I did. You were out eating dango with that fine hunk of man meat.’

Sakura's stomach churned. The last time they spoke, she hadn’t mentioned anything about Itachi that could give his identity away. Likewise, Ino wasn’t as stupid as she sometimes acted. She could put two and two together. But more importantly, had she overheard their conversation at the dango shop? How much did she know?

There’s no way I can get Ino involved in this, Sakura thought, trying not to grimace.

‘So Forehead,’ Ino said. ‘Care to explain what you were doing dining out with the Hokage's right-hand man?’

Sakura could only hope that Ino would drop the subject. Who was she kidding? Of course Ino wouldn’t drop it. 

‘It was nothing. He was asking about a project I'm working on at the moment, you know, at the hospital.’

‘Yeah, sure he was,’ Ino snorted. ‘Don't lie to me, Sakura. I know you. Other people probably can't tell, but whenever you're talking about work you go all rigid and professional… kind of like a cardboard cut-out. Anyway, I know you weren't talking about work. You were way too relaxed for that.’

‘It really was nothing, Ino.’

‘Sakura I told you not to lie to me.’ Ino sat up on her knees, facing Sakura fully until it became impossible to ignore her. Her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘Last time, you said someone was asking you to choose between yourself and the greater good or whatever it was.’ 

Sakura opened her mouth to tell her that back then she had been speaking hypothetically, but Ino raised a finger to cut her off. 

‘Sakura, tell me straight. Is Uchiha Itachi blackmailing you or something?’

‘What? No!’

‘Then why the hell is he asking you such weird stuff about the greater good? Be honest with me. I don’t trust him, he’s one of them.’

Sakura's heart fluttered nervously. She was aching to confide in somebody; all of these secrets about Konoha’s past left her feeling like an unexploded mine. But she couldn't drag Ino into this. It was far too political. The fewer people knew about Itachi's plan to usurp his father right from under his feet, the better.

‘I… I can’t, Ino-pig,’ she answered. ‘I just can't risk it.’ 

I can’t risk anything happening to you. 

Sakura thought Ino would be mad, irritated that Sakura could harbour so many unshed secrets. But much to Sakura's relief, her best friend just gave her a weary smile.

‘Sure, Forehead. I understand. But whatever you've gotten yourself into, if it becomes too much to deal with, you can always let me in.’

Ino… Thank you. 

At times like these, Ino was the sister Sakura never had. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ino. But rather, she felt that if she spoke about it out loud – without Itachi's reassuring presence – the information would somehow be leaked and he would lose his advantage against his father. If word got out that Itachi was working against his clan, he would be stripped of all power, no longer in line for the position of Hokage.

The butterflies in Sakura's chest had begun to ebb away, and with a tired smile, she slid down the tree trunk and rested her head against her best friend’s shoulder. 

‘What would I do without you, Ino?’

‘Oh, you’d be hopeless without me, obviously,’ Ino scoffed. ‘But if that damn Uchiha causes any problems, just let me know and I'll pulverise him. It doesn’t matter how attractive he is.’

Sakura laughed dryly. ’That’s Sasuke-kun’s brother, you know. Stop making things weird.’

‘You can’t deny it. Even if he’s the enemy, he’s got the face of Adonis.’ Ino paused, humming pleasantly. ‘Not to mention that beautiful body.’

Sakura elbowed her in the ribs. ‘Stop! I don’t want to think about him that way.’

‘Too late, you’re already thinking about him.’ 

‘Shut up, Pig!’ 

There was still time before curfew, so for now, she could enjoy the quiet of the meadow. The sweetness of flowers lingered in the air, and above the canopy, swallows flocked in lines. With her head resting against Ino’s shoulder, the two simply enjoying the silence of the other’s company, Sakura realised that her headache had finally subsided. But more than that, she finally understood why she wished to stand by Itachi’s side. 

I want to fight for this moment right here. I want to fight for my family. 

Chapter Text

Sakura almost had a heart attack when she turned to see Itachi leaning against the doorframe of her kitchen. The bowl of miso soup she was holding slipped through her fingers, and would have shattered against the tile floor had she not come to her senses and caught it just in time. Aside from a few splatters that flew from the bowl, her soup was saved. Mostly.

‘That was your fault,’ she hissed. Grabbing a cloth from the countertop, she crouched down and mopped at the spilled soup.

‘I have a mission for us.’

She scrubbed the tiles furiously. ‘Tell your father that we don't need anymore herbs. The hospital has more than enough to last us for the next month, provided we don't have an epidemic anytime soon.’

‘It's an infiltration mission in Kirigakure.’

Her head snapped up. Itachi was smiling wryly. No. She couldn't have possibly heard that right. An infiltration mission? It had to be a mistake. Fugaku would never send her on a field mission. Even the missions pertaining outbreaks in rural villages were usually given to other medics deemed less likely to conspire behind his back with one of the legendary sannin. Itachi's words swam around in her head until something clicked.

‘Us? You're not just an escort?’

‘I’ve requested your presence as my partner,’ he said. ‘We'll be working together.’

Without thinking, she leapt up and threw her arms around him. 

I can’t believe it! A mission. 

But it wasn’t just any mission. One where she was a partner. An equal. For once, she wasn't going to be closely monitored or chaperoned out of distrust. How could she even begin to repay him for something this incredible?

Homemade dango it is! 

As her initial excitement wore off, she gradually became aware that Itachi was stiff as concrete beneath her arms. Mortification swept over her as she realised that she had probably jumped the gun somewhere. Even if she knew him better than she ever had before, she didn’t really know where she stood with him. And relationships aside, it was obvious that Itachi wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely guy. 

Mortified down to her bones, Sakura had started to release him when she suddenly felt his hand on the small of her back. It was a simple gesture. One that suggested he was trying to diffuse the strangeness of the situation, even if it didn't really help. She appreciated it nonetheless.

‘You're welcome, Sakura,’ he said. When she backed away from him, he added, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the gates. Pack enough for an indefinite amount of time, and make sure to include civilian clothing. You're going to need it.’

She nodded, trying not to squeal in excitement. ‘I'll be there.’

He inclined his head, and with a single hand sign, his body split, disintegrating into a swirl of glossy crows that arched their wings and disappeared through the window. When the last crow had flown, the kitchen was silent. 

Finally alone, Sakura performed a small victory dance, twirling in the middle of her kitchen. But her good news was wasted on an empty kitchen — she needed to share it with everyone. Grinning and humming, she grabbed a sweater and headed out to track down her team. 

This time, the ramen was on her.

‘I'm surprised. Naruto is usually the first one here,’ Sakura mused, nursing her bottle of sake. 

On either side of her, Kakashi and Sasuke hummed in agreement. The booth was warm and the scent of ramen was hot and salty and oh so tempting. But it wouldn't be fair to start eating without Naruto. Sasuke and Kakashi had opted for water to start with, whereas Sakura had been in the mood for something a little stronger. She sipped her sake to dampen her hunger.

‘Give him time,’ Kakashi said. ‘I’m sure he'll have a good reason.’

‘I know, I know. I just…’

‘You just what?’ Kakashi prompted.

She thought it over, wondering whether or not she should spill the good news already. She wanted to wait until the team was all together, but then again, it wouldn't matter too much if she told Kakashi and Sasuke first, would it?

‘What is it, Sakura?’ Sasuke asked, and Sakura knew that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. 

‘I was going to wait until Naruto arrived, but I might as well tell you both,’ she said, ‘I called you all here because I have a mission. And it's not herb picking again.’ A glimmer of intrigue flashed across their features as she whispered excitedly, ‘I can't tell you much, but it's an infiltration mission.’

Kakashi looked pleasantly surprised, yet proud that she was finally getting some field action again. On the other hand, Sasuke's face betrayed a myriad of emotions. He took a careful sip of his water. 

‘My father never gives you missions like that,’ he said. ‘How did you manage to convince him?’

‘I didn't. Your majestic unicorn of a brother did.’

‘My my,’ Kakashi murmured. ‘Itachi-san, hm?’ 

‘Nii-san did? He really requested you for a mission?’ 

‘Yep!’ Sakura happily swayed on her stool. ‘For whatever reason, he requires my skills.’

Sasuke was quieter than expected. He seemed to be carefully mulling over this new information, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. And with sudden realisation, Sakura remembered that Sasuke had been in her apartment when Itachi had sent her flowers. Thankfully, he had yet to bring up the bouquet of narcissus, but he was probably suspicious, or at least confused by their relationship.

After a long pause, Sasuke muttered, ‘I guess even he can see that you're being wasted in a herb garden.’

‘Hey, don't hate on the herbs Sasuke-kun. They save more lives than you'd think.’

Sakura was proud that she was finally getting back into the action again. Even though it took Itachi to convince his father, this was a huge step up. If she performed well, there was a chance Fugaku would start trusting her with important missions again. 

‘Before you both leave I'll have to thank him for giving you a chance,’ Sasuke said, then lowered his voice. ‘But Sakura, just be aware. Aniki is very serious. He made Anbu captain at thirteen. He's pretty calculating, and missions with him aren't like missions with Team Seven. He's ruthless and he'll do whatever it takes to complete the mission.’

‘It's true,’ Kakashi added. ‘I’ve worked with Itachi-san in the past. He has his own rules, and he always has a reason for everything he does. So if he gives you an instruction, just do it. Don't challenge him.’

‘Okaay, point taken,’ Sakura said. ‘Though if anything, he sounds like a pretty dependable mission partner.’

Sasuke let out a noise of frustration. His fingers clenched around his glass of water. ’Just don't let it get to you if he seems cold. I’ve heard jounin and Anbu complain about him being a strict captain, but he’s like that to everybody. Even me, sometimes.’

Sakura scowled and downed a cup of sake in one go. It seemed more like they were putting a damper on her good news rather than being pleased that she was finally back on the mission rota. What did they think she would expect? Fun and games? It was irritating, and dare she say it, patronising.

Maybe they're just concerned about my wellbeing. But still…

Beside her, Sasuke sighed. All of his earlier tension seemed to have melted away and now he was gazing into the distance. Sometimes, Sakura wondered if there was more to his relationship with Itachi than he let on. 

The shadows of Danzo’s sly grin flashed through her memory. 

Of course there’s more… but Sasuke would never know. 

‘This mission will be good for you,’ he said. ‘It's been too long since you were allowed to do something like this. And if my brother gets too arrogant, just tell him that you know about the blanket he keeps in back of his wardrobe.’

‘A blanket?’

Sasuke’s mouth curled into a devious smile. ‘Our aunt knitted it for him when he was a child and he used to fall asleep holding it. It's been over twenty years and he's still got it.’

Sakura stifled a giggle as she downed the last of her sake straight from the bottle. ‘Oh I’m definitely keeping that in my arsenal.’

Itachi Uchiha… killer of the Sandaime, the Hokage’s Right-Hand-Man, Genjutsu extraordinaire, master of the Sharingan, and lover of soft blankets.

No! The mental image just seemed so wrong. 

Regardless of his softer, dango-loving and cafe-hopping side, Itachi was terrifying to most. Despite knowing him through Sasuke, Sakura had always been wary of Itachi whenever she saw him in the streets.

One time, roughly a year before the coup took place, she had been chased across the Academy yard by a group of girls who were throwing pieces of leftover food from lunch. They laughed and teased Sakura endlessly as she sprinted through the gates with clumps of rice speckled all over her forehead and in her hair. 

She had rounded the corner of the street, only to slam straight into someone. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen to the ground if not for the hand clasped around her arm. When she opened her eyes, a breathless scream tore through her. His eyes were bright red, bloody and piercing, and his black hair cast twisted shadows across his face. His hand released her arm, only to loom inches from her face, and out of sheer terror Sakura scrambled to her feet and set off home, weeping every step of the way.

At the time, she had been scared out of her wits by the strange crimson-eyed boy who looked faintly like the vampires she read about in books. But in retrospect, Itachi had likely been on his way to collect Sasuke from the Academy. And he hadn’t reached out to strangle her or drink her blood, but to brush the rice from her hair. 

Now, as she signalled for another bottle of sake, Sakura thought back on the incident with fondness. 

It’s funny how things turn out—

‘Oi, get off me! I'm only going to Ichiraku ramen! What's the big idea?!’

Naruto?

Sakura leapt off her stool, out of the booth and into the street. Behind her, Kakashi and Sasuke did the same, and she felt the tense surge of their chakra signatures as a patrol officer appeared, dragging a writhing Naruto toward them by his jacket collar.

‘You bastard! Let go of me!’ 

Naruto kicked at the officer who deftly avoided his blows as though they were dealt by a small child throwing a tantrum. At the sight of Team Seven, the officer hurled Naruto toward them. Sakura and Kakashi kneeled to catch him as he skidded across the dirt.

Sakura's eyes zeroed in on the number of gashes and bruises decorating Naruto's shins and hands. His left cheek was already swollen and red. ‘What's going on?’

Kakashi's eye narrowed. ‘Explain yourself.’

The officer coldly looked between them. ‘Your monkey over there was at the gates of the Hyuuga compound attempting to engage the guards in battle.’

Kakashi stepped forward, but a yell from Naruto cut him off before he could respond. ‘Yeah, because your bastard friends were bothering Hinata-chan!’

The officer flashed his Sharingan at Naruto, who stood his ground and met the officer's gaze squarely. ‘My “bastard friends”, your superior officers, are merely doing their job. It is not your place to interfere.’ 

Ignoring Naruto's demands to turn around and fight him, the officer’s eyes roamed over Sakura. He muttered something under his breath, quietly as so not to draw attention, but loud enough that their trained ears heard it clear as day.

‘Traitor.'

Sakura's fists curled, her nails embedding into her palms. Naruto's jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to hurl an insult, when Kakashi spoke in a low and dangerous tone. 

‘You're going to have to leave.’

‘You're asking me to leave?’

‘I am.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘If you don’t,’ Kakashi said quietly, ‘I will force you. And if that happens, you're going to wish you'd chosen to walk away of your own volition.’

The officer's mouth tilted into a sneer. ‘What are you going to do, use your Sharingan on me?’

Kakashi's remaining eye widened briefly, then closed with barely restrained fury. Sakura’s heart skipped a beat at the cruelty of such a comment.

How dare he! How dare he bring that up!

Sakura’s patience shattered at the officer’s smug expression. Deep down, she knew that no matter the ramifications of her actions tonight, it wouldn't matter. She wouldn't care, because at least she'd have stuck one up for Kakashi. Her fist shot out, electric blue and charged with chakra, toward the officer's chin. But before it could make contact, a hand clamped down on her wrist.

‘Etsuji.’ 

Calm and collected, Sasuke spoke with an air that demanded authority. He looked at Sakura, and she instantly knew that he was asking her to stand down and trust in him. She nodded and he released her wrist.

The officer bowed stiffly. ‘Yes, Sasuke-sama?’

‘You will leave quietly, and you're going to forget that this incident ever happened,’ Sasuke told him. ‘And if you don't, you can forget all about that promotion you've been pestering my father for.’

With a flicker of annoyance, the officer bowed once more. This time, the gesture was exaggerated and satirical. Sasuke's lips thinned at the action, but he said nothing.

‘Very well,’ the officer said. ‘Have a good evening, Sasuke-sama.’

Without a backward glance, the officer left Team Seven standing outside Ichiraku. At first nobody moved or spoke, their evening tainted by the events that had just occurred, and by the prying eyes and whispers that now swept along the street. 

It was Sasuke who finally muttered, ‘I'll speak to my father. He's not getting that promotion either way.’

Itachi knew she wouldn't be late. 

The streets were desolate at this time of morning, partially due to the fact that the sun had not yet risen, but also because the curfew was still active for another hour yet. Anyone without a pass or mission slip would be stopped and questioned. 

He was waiting by the gate, prepared and ready to depart. Above him, atop of the village walls, the last stretch of the night patrol was watching him idly. Well, some were watching. Others had likely fallen asleep on the job.

His father hadn’t given him the mission scroll — this was far too risky should somebody get their hands on it — but he had every last detail committed to memory. Not that there was much to memorise. The mission itself was self-explanatory. Get into Kirigakure, find out what they can about the Mizukage's plans toward Konoha and the mysterious seal they found on the Kiri nin's tongue, then get out. Fast.

There was a sharp intake of breath from one of the guards above. Itachi looked up. 

And there she was. 

She was dressed inconspicuously in black shinobi gear, her pack strapped to her back, expression determined yet hesitant. She glanced up at the officers on the village walls, her hand tightly clutching a scrap of paper — her mission slip. 

He understood her trepidation. She was expecting to be stopped at any moment, apprehended perhaps, or even dragged to the Hokage’s office. And so, Itachi stepped forward to greet her. 

‘Sakura.’ 

Something flickered in her expression. Relief. Did his presence truly bring her such comfort? The thought disturbed him somewhat, but Itachi pushed it aside for now. With a nod, he gestured to the shinobi at mission register who jotted down their names and time of departure. 

Then silently, they disappeared into the foliage.

Chapter Text

Sakura was a quiet mission partner. She rarely spoke as they surged through the thick forests of Fire Country, and when she did, it was brief and to the point. He figured that like many of their comrades, Sakura adopted a mask of professionalism when the time came for it. He was grateful, as he was hardly a social butterfly himself, and aside from issuing directions he usually kept to his thoughts during missions. 

As far as he could remember, Izumi had been the opposite. They had only shared a couple of odd missions here and there, and to her acknowledgement, she was focused and serious in the face of danger. But in their downtime, Izumi had noisily bickered with their comrades, occasionally glancing his way with a 'ne, Itachi-kun?' that always caught him off guard. 

Sakura was mostly silent. Maybe it was because she was an adult woman and not a child like Izumi had been. Or perhaps it was because Sakura was given the chance to mature and grow as a kunoichi. If not for the Uchiha’s curse, Izumi would have had the same opportunity.

They travelled for hours with minimal breaks before eventually stopping at a familiar cave, small enough for two, and concealed well behind a cluster of trees, moss and foliage. A perfect space to camp for the night. As he set his pack down, Sakura poked at the charred remains of an old fire.

‘Are you sure this place is safe? It looks like people have been here before us.’

‘They have,’ he said. ‘I've sheltered here on missions to the Land of Tea.’

Seemingly placated with his answer, she left the cave muttering something about firewood. Itachi fought the urge to ask her to speak more clearly. He knew better than to tease her. Sasuke had never directly talked about Sakura's temper, but Itachi recalled several instances in which his baby brother returned from training with black and blue splotches dotted across his skin. Sasuke would never tell their father that he had been beaten up by a tiny girl with pink hair, and whenever their father asked about his injuries, Sasuke would place the blame on Uzumaki Naruto or Hatake Kakashi. But Itachi could read between the lines. Sasuke’s bruises were intentionally left unhealed. Not to mention, he had caught Sasuke once or twice muttering under his breath about the incredible power behind tiny fists.

He was digging out a selection of food rations from his pack, when Sakura stumbled into the cave, her arms overflowing with twigs and branches. She dumped the firewood unceremoniously in the middle of the cave floor. 

‘Do you know how long it took me to find this place again?’

‘Surely it's a good thing that our camp is difficult to locate,’ Itachi replied. ‘It's certainly more secure this way.’

She sighed and rubbed at her temple. A headache, he surmised. No wonder she seemed irritated. 

‘You could’ve at least given me a heads up. You didn't even tell me you'd put up a genjutsu.’

‘It goes without saying that I would use one to conceal our location,’ he said, ignoring her grumbling. ‘Yet you managed to locate our camp in spite of it. You’re a genjutsu type.’ 

‘Supposedly.’ Sakura plopped herself onto a blanket that she had folded into a cushion. Itachi patiently waited for her to explain. ‘Kakashi-sensei once told me I have an affinity for genjutsu, but it’s not like he ever trained me in using them.’ 

Despite how Sakura dismissed Kakashi’s negligence, Itachi had a feeling that she was more bothered than she let on. An idea dawned on him, a possibility that he could teach Sakura some complex illusionary techniques. He had countless tricks up his sleeve, many of which didn't actually require the Sharingan, but natural ability and precise chakra control. No doubt, someone of Sakura’s skill would be able to master them easily.

She certainly has enough determination.  

He used a quick katon-jutsu to alight their campfire, the orange glow spilling new shadows across the cave walls. Sitting on the ground across from him, Sakura was watching the fire with a soft intensity.

‘I've been thinking a lot about your memories,’ she said suddenly. ‘Actually, I can’t stop thinking about them.’ 

Itachi looked at the ground, unable to face her properly. This was the precise outcome he had wished to avoid, the very reason he was reluctant to use his Tsukuyomi on her. But then, Sakura surprised him once again. 

'I kind of wish that I could’ve met Shisui.’

It was so out of the blue that Itachi wasn't sure how to respond, and so he told her honestly, ‘Shisui would have liked you.’

Sakura perked up a little. ‘Really? Or are you just saying that? Do you think we would have been good friends?’ She then lowered her head sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t ask too many questions. Sasuke-kun always tells me off for doing that.’

Itachi didn’t understand why she felt the need to apologise. Her questions were refreshing. ‘As I'm sure you know, my otouto often doesn't mean what he says.’

‘Well, he says I’m annoying.’ 

‘I’m not sure I believe him.’

‘You should believe it,’ Sakura insisted, hiding a shy smile behind her hand. ‘I used to follow him around everywhere. It was so embarrassing!’ 

Itachi froze at this, wondering whether his proposition had disrupted the natural progression of things. He had never considered it before, but of course, Sakura had feelings for Sasuke once. Were those feelings still present, perhaps hidden deep down somewhere in her subconscious? And as for his otouto, he hadn’t stopped Itachi from pursuing Sakura after the incident with the flowers. But Sasuke hid his emotions well… 

‘Itachi?’ 

Sakura’s concern would do no good.  The worry had already wormed its way into Itachi’s mind, taking root there. ‘I’m surprised you’re that close with my brother.’ 

‘Hm?’

‘He’s an Uchiha.’ Itachi thought about hidden shrine he’d discovered in her apartment. 

Sakura leaned back, understanding dawning over her features. For a split second,  her mouth twisted into a frown, but the moment was fleeting. 

‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘After the coup, I hated your clan. I didn’t want anything to do with Sasuke-kun even though I had a crush on him. In a way, I blamed him for what happened to my parents.’ There was a pause, then a tired sigh. ‘After we were put in a team together, I didn’t really know how I felt. Naruto hated his guts more than I did, but after a while I realised that Sasuke-kun isn’t really to blame. He sees what happens around the village and he knows it’s unfair, but he doesn’t understand because he’s never lived it. And then somehow, I think in a way, I just stopped thinking of him as part of the Uchiha clan. Despite everything, I still had feelings for him, so I let myself feel that way for a while.’ 

Itachi didn’t want to pry — he really didn’t — but he needed to know. ‘Do you still have feelings for him?’ 

Sakura laughed, and the soft sound reassured Itachi more than anything she could have said. ‘Not in that way. Not anymore. No offence, but your brother is a stubborn asshole.’

‘No offence taken,’ Itachi said. ‘I’m glad he has you and Naruto-kun by his side.’

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire between them. Itachi took the opportunity to watch her closely, the mannerisms that were uniquely Sakura, her habit of pulling her sleeves over her hands, how she instinctively looked to her left whenever she felt uncomfortable.

‘To answer your earlier question,’ he said, ‘I was not merely being polite.’ 

Sakura looked up quizzically.  

‘Shisui would have liked you a lot, Haruno Sakura.’

Itachi could easily envision a world in which the coup had been prevented without casualties. Shisui and Izumi would have been alive and healthy, Shisui teasing Sasuke mercilessly and Izumi offering him secret sticks of Dango. Shisui and Sakura would likely strike up a banter, quickly becoming good friends. 

He tried to imagine Izumi by his side, but the more he thought about it, the more Izumi's image was fading. No, not fading exactly. Just displaced. As though somehow she no longer belonged in the space next to him. Something about this troubled him greatly, as though somebody had tampered with the mosaic of his memories, and he was at risk of forgetting Izumi entirely. 

He pushed the thought away, tending to the fire instead. 

‘Is this cave soundproofed?’ 

Itachi didn’t look up from where he was searching through his pack. ‘Nobody can hear nor see us.’

The pink haze of dusk had darkened into night, and whilst it was still relatively warm in the cave due to their fire, the temperature outside had dropped by several degrees. Sakura was sitting cross-legged on her sleeping bag, chewing on a ration bar. A shiver passed through her, and she instinctively leaned a little closer to the fire. 

‘When we get to Kirigakure, how do you want to go about the mission?’ She couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been many years since her last infiltration mission. ‘You have more experience than me, plus you’re the captain here, so I'm assuming you have a better idea of how we should go about this.’

Itachi didn’t answer her at first. Having found his sleeping bag, he seemed to be more focused on rolling it out as neatly as possible and smoothing the creases. 

‘Well,’ he said at last. ‘The best way would be to assimilate into the village separately at different times.’

‘So that nobody will associate us with one another.’

‘Precisely. The aim here is to gather as much intel about the Mizukage’s intentions. Do you remember the information I gave you about the seal?’ 

Sakura nodded, recalling the scroll that Kin delivered to her before they left Konoha. Itachi had written down exactly what required investigation in an absurd amount of detail; the influx of ninja along the borders of Fire Country, and a strange seal they had discovered on a Kiri nin’s tongue that prevented him from spilling information on his hidden village. Apparently he had infiltrated Konoha, and was eventually discovered lurking around the Hokage tower wearing a hidden long-range mic. 

‘The best places to gather information are usually in the backstreets,’ Itachi told her. ‘Namely bars and clubs where shinobi stop by after a mission.’ He paused, thinking. ‘If there’s a red-light district, that’s usually a good place to investigate.’ 

A red-light district… 

What would her team would say if they knew she was wandering through such places? Kakashi probably wouldn’t say anything to her face, but Sasuke and Naruto absolutely would. She could picture Naruto’s horrified expression down to the last whisker. Sasuke would be slightly better at hiding his feelings, but only slightly.

‘Sakura.’ 

Itachi’s firm voice sounded from the other side of the cave. He was looking at her pointedly, and suddenly she felt unprofessional for zoning out during their discussion. 

‘I was just thinking,’ she said.

‘About?’

‘My team. They'd probably throw a fit at the thought of me snooping around the seedier parts of town. Quite frankly it's ridiculous. It’s not like being a ninja is a clean job anyway. I mean, we do all kinds of shady stuff and—’

‘Sakura.’

She drew back at his stern tone, deciding that she perhaps should keep quiet from now on. The look on Itachi’s face sent her survival instincts running wild. His mouth was pulled into a frown and his brow was quipped, as though daring her to ramble off-topic once more. 

‘I’m sorry if I talk too much,’ she said. ‘Sasuke did warn me that…’ Sakura couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence, even whilst Itachi waited patiently for her to continue. ‘Just forget I mentioned it,’ she added quickly. ‘They were being silly, it was nothing.’

‘Your reaction suggests otherwise.’

Sakura shifted nervously, pulling her sleeves over her fingers to keep them warm. ‘Sasuke-kun wasn’t exactly happy when I told him that we’d be working together,’ she said. ‘He warned me about you as a captain.’

Unexpectedly, Itachi’s eyes flashed with amusement. ‘He did, did he?’

And here we go again, digging myself into a hole. 

‘He said you were strict and that you wouldn't be as friendly as Team Seven.’

‘And am I?’

She could have laughed. Sasuke was both right and very, very wrong. Itachi was as serious as far as Anbu captains come, and she couldn't share the same jokes that she would with her team, that much was true. Itachi was far more mature. 

However, Sasuke also didn’t realise that she knew Itachi a little better now. She liked to think that even though he was a little distant, they had some form of connection. Yes he was strict. She had seen that in the brutal pace of their travels, barely letting up to catch their breath. But there was a peacefulness to him, something she had seen in glimpses.

‘Okay, maybe a little bit strict,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Especially when you look at me like that.’ Itachi raised a brow at this, but Sakura paid it no mind. ‘And you’re not exactly a teddy bear, I admit, but you're a kind person.’

He shifted. ‘I would have to disagree.’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Considering everything you’ve showed me, you're one of the kindest people I know.’

In the shadows of the fire she saw him grimace, but she couldn't be sure. The light was throwing strange shapes across his features, and from certain angles he appeared far older than his years. 

‘I’ve done things in the name of the village that are inhumane and downright cruel,’ he murmured, ‘just to keep up a pretence. It's best that you don’t know.’

His low self-worth was quickly becoming frustrating, and Sakura bristled with irritation. ‘Would an unkind person go to the lengths you did to try and stop a civil war?’

‘What kind of person would consider killing his entire family, even if he had a reason?’

‘A selfless person.’

Itachi’s lips parted, then closed, and he looked more unsure than she had ever seen him before. He turned to the mouth of the cave, staring out at the swathes of trees enveloping them. His voice was muffled beneath the echo of crickets and the crisp breeze, however Sakura could hear every word. 

‘Every Sunday my mother donates food to Konoha's orphanages. She becomes upset when a bee flies through the kitchen window and can't find its way out. Her clothes smell like baking, and she insists on making my otouto a packed lunch and hugging him goodbye before missions, even though he's an adult.’

Itachi stopped then, and Sakura felt a crushing weight in her chest, the vast emptiness of the events that had almost come to pass seventeen years ago. 

‘I was willing to kill her,’ he said. ‘I had the resolve to do it, and I think about that every time she smiles.’

Sakura had no words of comfort to offer him. She knew that no matter what she said, Itachi’s guilt would eat away at him for the remainder of his life. His confession was painfully personal, and there was no use in pressing the matter further. 

After all, what good would it do?

That night, Itachi offered to keep first watch. The air between them had become stilted, and Sakura hated not knowing where she stood with someone. It was unclear whether or not Itachi was angry with her. Earlier, he seemed to be simmering with some barely restrained tension as he fed new wood into the fire.

Sakura didn’t want to ask. Silence was her best defence. 

She was curled up like a hedgehog in her sleeping bag, endlessly trying to push away the worries exploding in fragments across the canvas of her mind. But it was impossible. She didn't know how long she lay there before exhaustion caught up to her and she finally succumbed to sleep. 

Her dreams were a smoke screen, heady and clouded with colours, places and ingredients for antidotes. The faces of her teammates flashed before her eyes, followed by officers patrolling the streets as she walked through Konoha's market square. Across the square, an officer’s glowing eyes locked onto her, and he began to walk in her direction. What could she possibly have done wrong? She was just walking, wasn't she? She tried to divert away from his path, to avoid him at all costs, but every step was muddy, her feet unresponsive despite her desperation. She ploughed along the street, dragging herself out of the officer’s way. As he passed by, he let out a thick wet cough that tugged at her medic instincts. Another cough, this one louder. Closer.

She awoke on her back, staring at the cave roof. It was dark, and there was a faint smell of smoke. The fire had died out long ago, reduced to crumbling embers. 

I could've sworn…

A cough.

The sound was sticky, and it came from the mouth of the cave. Slowly, she angled her head towards the entrance. A black silhouette was sitting on the ground, hunched over in the moonlight. Itachi. He was holding a rag to his face, and when he pulled it away, she saw the dark stains marring the fabric.

Blood.

She gasped. 

Itachi turned, tucking the rag into his pocket as he did so. His eyes were red as blood moons, and before she knew it, she found herself trapped. Her limbs had locked into place, and whilst hot fear shot through every nerve and vessel, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his.

A jutsu?

She focused her mind as best she could, ignoring her racing heart as she uttered a single ‘Kai.’ 

Within seconds, her paralysis melted away and she realised that yes, he had used a mild genjutsu. A harmless one that she was able to break out of almost instantly, but she definitely didn't appreciate it.

‘What the hell was that for?’ She snapped, unzipping her sleeping bag.

As she neared, he shifted away. This didn't deter her, however, as she was used to dealing with proud teammates and stubborn patients. The cough she heard moments ago was the first sign that something was very wrong here. The second sign was his instinctive reaction to paralyse her with his Sharingan.

He's on the defensive. He’s hiding something.

‘Go back to sleep, Sakura.’ His voice was strained, as though he were trying to hold down another coughing fit – the third sign.

‘No.’

‘Go back to sleep. That’s an order.’

‘You expect me to pretend that you didn't just cough up blood?’ She stepped closer. ‘Let me take a look.’

‘This is not something I’m willing to discuss.’

‘And it's not something I'm willing to ignore.’

She circled him and knelt down until he had no option but to look at her. A smear of blood glistened in his palm. He immediately closed his fingers into a fist, eyes piercing as he glared up at her. Sakura wasn’t sure how he would react when her hands came to rest on his shoulders. It was only when her chakra — bright and soothing — flowed into his lungs that a hand wrapped around her wrist, tight enough to send a spark of pain through her arm. With one stern look from her, the hand reluctantly retreated back to his side. 

‘Have you had any chest pain along with this?’

‘It comes and goes.’

‘What about dizziness or light-headedness?’

‘Occasionally, after fighting.’

‘And how long have you had this problem?’

He thought for a moment. ‘I was seventeen when I noticed it.’

She probed his lungs with her chakra, wincing at the build up of mucus, blood and scarring. This was certainly not something she would be able to treat overnight. As she focused on examining him through her chakra, her eyes drifted around the cave, taking in their sleeping bags, flasks, the remains of the fire—

The fire!

His symptoms, the scar tissue, the excess mucus, it all slotted into place. She removed her hands from his shoulders. 

‘You have bronchiectasis. Your lungs are filled with mucus, and I’m willing to bet your fire release is playing a huge part.’

His mouth pressed into a thin line. ‘I'm an Uchiha. If that's the case, the whole clan would be coughing blood.’

‘Not necessarily. Lung tissue in general is extremely thin, and bronchiectasis tends to develop after your lung tissue becomes damaged in some way. I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you use fire release often without letting your body rest in-between training sessions?’

He gave her an unreadable look that spoke volumes.  

‘Chakra isn’t exactly gentle, you know. If I can use it to crack open a mountain, what do you think it could do to your lungs?’ 

Itachi didn’t seem willing to put up a fight or argue back. Though that didn’t mean he would actually follow her advice. If he was as stubborn as his younger brother, there was every chance he would ignore her words completely. 

‘Itachi, you can’t just pretend this isn’t a problem. It’s a progressive condition.’ 

His voice was little more than a whisper. ‘Can it be treated?’

‘Yes and no,’ Sakura said, bringing out the calm, reassuring persona she used with patients. ‘I can’t do anything about the existing damage, but there are ways to treat it. Right now you’re more at risk of bacterial infections, so you’re lucky you’ve got me here. I can help you prevent those. For the time being, try not to use any fire techniques, or any other techniques that involve your lungs. At least not until we get back to the village.’ 

‘And if I do?’ 

‘Well…’ There was no easy way to say it. ’There’s a risk that a blood vessel in your lung could split. If that happened, it’d be fatal.’ 

He looked distinctly unhappy with her diagnosis, and even more so with her suggestions. However, she was the medic here, and therefore she had the last word.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘We’ll be posing as civilians for the majority of this mission so I can avoid using fire techniques.’

‘I should hope so. You'd blow our cover if you did.’

He peered at her grimly. ‘I can't avoid using fire release forever.’

‘I guess we'll have to just cross that bridge when we come to it,’ she said. There was little they could do about the matter whilst they were here on this mission.  ‘Tomorrow, we can clear your lungs which should help with your breathing.’

At last he unclenched his fist, staring at the blood streaked across his palm. Some of it had dried under his fingernails.

‘Thank you, Sakura.’

The longer they travelled, the more Sakura was convinced that Itachi was a medical marvel. 

Given his condition, three days of travel should have finished him off, yet he persisted as though nothing was wrong. Although that morning she had helped him clear some of the mucus from his lungs, there was no outside indication that he was sick at all, and the more she thought about it, the more depressing she found it that Itachi could still outrun her at a fraction of his strength. 

She would never admit it, however Sakura was exhausted by the time they reached their base for this mission — a small fishing village on the coast of the Land of Fire. The air was was sharp with the scent of fish and salt, and when they strolled down the path towards the village centre, she was glad for her casual civilian clothing. In a close-knit village like this where everybody knew one another, they stood out a mile. Yet the locals paid them no mind. Fishermen, carrying crates of fresh catch, greeted them as they headed down to the one and only inn. As they walked by, Sakura smiled politely at a woman perched on the stone steps of her house, gutting fish from a stained wooden bucket. 

‘I have to say,’ the woman said, ‘you two are certainly a beautiful pair.’

Sakura laughed, shifting on her feet. ‘Thank you, Oba-san, but we're not actually a pair.’

Aren’t we? Technically we’re engaged. 

The woman wiped her hands on a towel. Her eyes were fixed on Itachi. ‘You could've fooled me. I was going to tell you that you’d really snagged a jewel there.’

Sakura wondered whether he was bothered by the sheer number of women and young girls who fawned over his looks. Sasuke had frequently complained about the number of “deliveries” that arrived on their doorstep with Itachi’s name scrawled on them. But right now, he didn't seem phased by the woman’s comment at all. 

He inclined his head respectfully. ‘We need to check in at the inn, so if you don't mind, we’ll be leaving now—’

‘The inn?’ The woman’s mouth quirked. ‘Good luck with that.’

Sakura was puzzled. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘We don't get many travellers like yourselves around here. Usually they all go to the port town just south of here, so you'll find the inn is in a bit of a state. Not much money to keep it nice.’

Sakura had heard about instances like this before. During one genin mission Team Seven had stopped to rest in a similar place, and Kakashi had told them about certain fishing villages that relied purely on their bounty. Because of port towns that focused their income on providing transport across water, the smaller fishing villages nearby were often overlooked by travellers. 

She and Itachi were well aware of the port town to the south, deciding that it would be wise to set up a base in a village that was far, but not too far, from Kiri's main transport system with the mainland. Port towns were frequented by shinobi who were setting out on missions or returning home, and Itachi thought it best to reduce the risk of encountering nin in general. Even if they intended on using henges to infiltrate Kirigakure, all it took was one sensory-type Kiri nin to recognise their chakra. 

The risk simply wasn’t worth taking.

‘Thank you for warning us, but I'm sure we’ll manage,’ Itachi replied smoothly.

‘It was lovely to meet you, Oba-san.’ Sakura beamed at her. ‘I hope we see each other again.’ 

They left her to gut her fish on her front steps. Sakura stayed a pace or two behind Itachi, allowing him to lead the way. There was something reassuring about the back of his form, his confident posture, the way he walked with purpose. No matter how dangerous their mission, she felt safe with him as her captain. 

As they descended a slope that led to the coastline, the grey shape of the inn came into view. It was a squat, wooden building with peeling paint and dark windows. Judging from its outside appearance, the woman had been right to warn them, but the state of the inn didn’t really matter. It was only a base for the mission, and they would be leaving for Kiri soon enough.

The door creaked as they entered. Inside, the lobby was dimly lit by the warm cast of wall lamps, and the vacant reception desk held only a bell and a note taped beside it that read “please ring for service”. Sharing a glance with Itachi, she rang the bell. At first, there was no response. But moments later, a patter of footsteps sounded from a hallway to their left, followed by a pair of dark eyes peering around the doorway. 

‘Oh, erm… hi there.’ Given their height, Sakura could only assume she was talking to a child. ‘We were hoping you’d have a room.’

The eyes widened, then the child disappeared, running back down the hall. 

‘Papa!’ The voice was high-pitched and feminine. ‘Papa! There are people here!’

The inn-keeper’s daughter, it seemed. The little girl returned again, this time with a portly man at her side. While the girl was small and delicate, with pigtails and a gingham dress, the man was a little rough around the edges. His hair was greying at the roots and he walked with a limp, but his smile was warm. 

‘Good day to you both. How can I help?’ he asked with a gentle smile.

‘We need a room,’ Itachi replied. ‘Ideally one room with two single beds.’

The man scanned through his registry. ‘Hmm. I have rooms available, but I don't have any with two single beds. I'm afraid we’ve had a lot of tradesmen at the moment. It's a good fishing season. First good season in a long time, let me tell you. Although, if you don't mind sharing, I do have a room with a double bed.’

Just the one bed?

‘We'll take it,’ Itachi said without a second’s hesitation. 

Wait! What?

The man smiled and handed over a key for room twelve. ‘Any problems, just let me know.’ 

Sakura watched as Itachi paid the inn-keeper with indifference. He had agreed to the room so quickly, it amazed her. Was he not bothered by the prospect of them sharing a double bed? Of course not. He was a true professional, and had likely done the same on a number of previous missions. 

She was serious about this mission too. Of course she was. But there were butterflies in her stomach at the thought of sleeping next to her not-quite fiancé. Sure, their little marriage deal was hardly a real romance, but by definition they were engaged. She knew she couldn't keep thinking like this, especially as their agreement had nothing to do with the mission at hand. In the past, she had shared a bed with her teammates a number of times before, so why was this any different?

It’s very different and you know it.

Itachi led them up a creaky staircase to the third floor. The carpet was a strange shade of rose red, but the colour had faded into a deep pink with time. Despite this, it was well vacuumed and maintained. Although the inn couldn't bring in much in terms of profit, it was evident that they still took pride in what they had.

Lost in her own thoughts, she collided face-first into Itachi’s shoulder when he stopped suddenly outside a door marked with a little gold twelve. 

She rubbed her aching nose. ‘Sorry.’ 

‘Be careful,’ he muttered, and opened the door to their room. 

She noted briefly that he smelled of pine and soap, but her thoughts came grinding to a halt when she locked eyes with the bed.

The one bed.

The room itself was cosy enough — the walls were painted a deep wine red which complimented the warm brown curtains – but this was lost on Sakura as her mind short-circuited, fixated on the fact that she was going to share a bed with Sasuke’s older brother. 

Cool it Sakura, she scolded herself. Right now he's not your fiancé, or even Sasuke-kun’s brother. He's just your comrade.

It was so wrong of her, thinking of Itachi in this way, and right now she needed to get her head in gear. They weren't here to fret about trivial matters, they were here to gather information about the Mizukage's intentions. This was an extremely important mission that could help prevent a war between Konoha and Kiri, should war be on the horizon. 

Breathe, Sakura. It's just like sharing with Team Seven.

She steeled her nerves and walked further into the room, closing the door behind her and dumping her pack on a chair. At that same moment, Itachi turned to her, his expression deadly serious. 

‘Do you want to shower first or should I?’

Chapter Text

Itachi showered first. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she could hear the gentle patter of running water from the small adjoining bathroom, and appreciated having some time alone to collect herself. Itachi was her comrade and her senior officer, regardless of her relationship with him, if she could call it that. 

He's also your future husband, a voice in her head whispered, and he’s naked in there. 

No. She would not entertain that thought. Head in her hands, Sakura could feel her face warming. 

He’s also the dream-man of almost every woman in Konoha.

Now that was something she couldn't deny. 

Despite the overall resentment for the Uchiha clan throughout the village, her colleagues at the hospital often fawned over Itachi, with some of the younger medics directing their obsessions at Sasuke instead. However, on the rare occasion that Itachi did enter the hospital, none of the medics dared to flirt with him or ask him out on a date. The reason was simple; the air around him was cold. Closed off. 

On the other hand, Sakura had always tried to reason with things. She had always treated Itachi in the same way she treated the rest of his clan: with distain. 

Her fellow medics would be awestruck at how she could speak so coolly to members of the Uchiha without stuttering or backing down to threat, but in truth, Sakura simply no longer cared. She had already lost her parents, and whilst her anger at the Uchiha had reduced to a simmer over the years, she refused to give them the superiority they demanded. Itachi was no different, and she had learned over the years to treat him as an extension of Sasuke. 

Aside from running into him outside the academy gates, the first time she truly met him was was many, many years ago. It was soon after Team Seven had been formed, when she had received a beautiful hand-written invitation from Uchiha Mikoto requesting her presence for afternoon tea. 

Sakura’s numb fingers ached as she rapped on the front door of the Uchiha main household. It was a cold October afternoon, and the trees lining the streets of the Uchiha compound shivered in the wind. Earlier, she had been unsure of what to wear, and chose to don the floral yukata she saved for special occasions. However, the summery fabric was far too thin for this time of the year, and she had no choice but to rub her arms to keep herself warm as she waited on the front step. Soon enough, she heard footsteps from inside the house, and the door cracked open to reveal Sasuke.

‘You're early,’ he said, giving her outfit a once-over. ‘And underdressed.’

She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. ‘Could you please let me in? It's freezing.’

Sasuke rolled his eyes and pulled her into the hallway by her wrist. He shut the door behind them. ‘Why didn't you wear a coat?’

She slipped off her shoes in the entrance. ‘Because you can't wear a coat over a yukata, Sasuke-kun. It just doesn't go. I'd look ridiculous, and this is my first time meeting your mother. I don't want her to think that I don't know how to dress properly.’

Sasuke bent down to rearrange Sakura's shoes so that they were neatly in line with the others. She noted how most of the shoes were shinobi sandals, a contrast to the civilian shoes her aunt and uncle wore.  

‘You're not dressed properly. And I’m sure mother would rather you didn't die of hypothermia on our doorstep.’

Sakura waved his comment away. Even if Sasuke looked cool no matter what he wore, the boy had no fashion sense. There was no way she'd be seen dead with a coat over a yukata. It was a clash of traditional and modern that she would never be able to live down if Ino-pig ever saw her.

‘Suit yourself,’ he said, stalking off down the hallway with Sakura in tow.

This was the first time she had actually been inside Sasuke's house. Sure, she had briefly seen inside when she and Naruto stopped by before missions, but she had never been invited in. He led her into a living room with three couches and a mantlepiece that was decorated with family photographs. A single sliding door connected the living room with the kitchen, where the clatter of cutlery sounded from within. 

‘Was that Sakura-chan at the door?’ Mikoto called, poking her head into the living room. When her eyes locked onto Sakura, she smiled elegantly. ‘I'll be with you in one moment, dear.’

Mikoto disappeared briefly, only to re-emerge once again, this time without an apron. She approached Sakura, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders and inspecting her closely. Sakura stiffened under the woman's scrutiny, wondering whether it really was a mistake to wear a yukata. 

‘Sasuke,’ Mikoto said soberly, ‘why didn't you tell me that your teammate was this cute?’ 

Sakura was taken aback by the shift in tone, unsure of how to act when Mikoto stepped back, clasping her hands to her mouth in wonder. 

‘Look at her, Sasuke. Her hair, and her eyes, and look at that yukata... Oh goodness, you’re just like a doll!’

Sakura suddenly felt very self-conscious, but blessedly relieved that she had left a good impression so far. Sasuke, however, didn’t seem to care either way. He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath when Sakura bowed, smiling warmly.

‘Thank you for inviting me, Uchiha Mikoto-sama. I’m so glad I could meet Sasuke-kun's mother.’ 

‘The pleasure's all mine, dear. Sasuke talks about his team all the time, I just had to meet you and Naruto-kun!’

Sasuke shifted uncomfortably. ‘Okaa-san,’ he hissed. 

‘Don’t be a spoilt sport, Sasuke,’ Mikoto admonished him.  

She gushed over Sakura for a few minutes longer, asking about her training and her interests, before reluctantly retreating back to the kitchen, leaving Sasuke and Sakura alone in the living room. At some point during their conversation, Sasuke had seated himself on a couch and was now absentmindedly looking through a scroll. 

‘You can sit down, you know,’ he said.

Sakura eyed the space next to him on the couch. She didn't want to sit beside him looking so windswept and grubby from her journey here. 

‘Actually, would it be okay if I used your bathroom?’

He shrugged. ‘It's upstairs, just down the hall on the right.’

Thanking him, she ducked out of the living room and made her way back to the entrance where the staircase was. Only, once she ascended the stairs, she realised just how vague Sasuke's directions were. Several doors lined the walls on either side, each looking exactly the same as the others.

Sakura cursed her luck. Sasuke was cool and cute, but sometimes he really did get under her skin. On the bright side, he’d said that the bathroom was on the right hand side, which thankfully eliminated fifty percent of the doors.

She tried the first door on the right, discovering that it was a coat closet. The second, a study. The third? Nope. It was locked. The fourth one opened up to reveal a guest bedroom, devoid of personal touches aside from a couple of houseplants on the windowsill. 

Sighing in frustration, Sakura turned to next door. As her fingers closed around the bronze handle, the door swung open. She flinched and instinctively stepped backwards.

It was the wrong door. It was absolutely the wrong door. 

Her heart skipped a beat as she found herself face to face with Sasuke's older brother. 

As of yet, she had only seen Itachi Uchiha around the village, in glimpses at the academy, or standing by the gates in black-ops uniform, having returned from a mission. But aside from their mutual connection through Sasuke, they were perfect strangers. Now, however, Itachi loomed in the doorway, staring impassively at the thirteen year old girl outside his bedroom.  

‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…’ Sakura swallowed nervously. ‘Sasuke-kun said the bathroom was upstairs.’

He continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable. 

‘I’m really sorry for disturbing you,’ she said, and began to shuffle away down the hall. She didn't make it three steps before a deep voice froze her in place.

‘You are lost.’

She smiled as convincingly as she could. ‘Not at all. Sasuke-kun gave me very clear directions.’

‘You're also lying.’ 

Her smile wilted. What was she supposed to say to that? And was she really such a bad liar?

As if he could read her thoughts, he tilted his head and spoke again. ‘My hearing is well trained, Sakura-san. I overheard my brother’s directions, and I must apologise on his behalf. He can be thoughtless at times.’

‘Oh. You heard…’

‘I did,’ he said.

Now that she knew he wasn’t angry at her for almost walking into his room, Sakura felt herself relax slightly. Only slightly. She had heard strange rumours about Itachi Uchiha — he was mostly just a name, but a name that when mentioned, caused her uncle to curse and down another glass of sake. 

And yet, here he was, staring at her. She wasn't sure if he was waiting for her to leave, but the issue was resolved when he suddenly stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you the way.’

He moved past her, heading down the hall. Sakura tentatively followed, finding herself transfixed by the long ponytail that dangled between his shoulder blades. A small part of her wanted to grasp it with both hands, shake it, and make a wish as she would at a shrine. But then, he really would be angry at her. 

He stopped abruptly at the very end of the hallway. There was a door, presumably the bathroom, just to her right. 

‘Oh, this is it?’ she said. ‘Thank you.'

She expected him to go back to his room, however he stayed, his gaze piercing. It then dawned on Sakura that he wasn’t looking at her, but at her yukata. 

‘You needn't have bothered to dress up.’

She glanced down at her yukata, crumpled from the wind. ‘I've never met Sasuke-kun's family before. I know the Uchiha clan is very traditional.’

’You seem particularly attached to my brother,’ he said, ignoring her comment entirely. Sakura’s face and neck began to grow warm, and Itachi raised a brow. ‘I see.’

Somehow, she was now exposed. His scrutiny was like an anchor, trapping her in place, leaving her feelings for Sasuke on full display for Itachi to peruse and mock as he pleased.

‘You should reconsider where you place your affections, Sakura-san.’

‘W-what do you mean?’

She expected him to make a snide comment, or even to laugh in her face, but instead he sighed. ‘Your interest in my brother won’t bring you any happiness. You are not an Uchiha.’

Her eyes brimmed with tears. As she closed the bathroom door in his face, she decided from then on that she would never let Uchiha Itachi speak down to her again. 

Sakura remembered the whole thing like it was yesterday. Only now, she had come to realise that Itachi's words that day hadn’t come from a place of malice. He was right. Her infatuation with Sasuke would have gone nowhere. She was not a member of the Uchiha clan, whereas Sasuke was a son in the main household. It never would have worked.

And yet here I am, marrying their heir just to prove a point. 

The memory was quickly forgotten as the bathroom door cracked open and Itachi exited, the steam of his shower clinging to his skin and hair. 

Sakura tried not to stare. She really did. But she had never seen Itachi with his hair loose before. It didn't help that his black t-shirt was sticking to his torso, and as he turned in the light she could see the subtle outline of his muscles underneath.

Oh god… there’s something seriously wrong with me!

Ignoring Itachi's mild surprise, she snatched her toiletry bag from her pack and bolted into the bathroom. She perched on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing her tired eyes as she tried to make sense of these ridiculous feelings. 

This is so stupid, shannaro!

But was it? 

Was it not normal to feel jittery about crawling into bed beside one of Konoha's most coveted men?

Thinking about it, is he actually aware of how attractive he is? 

Probably. It would take a whole new level of obliviousness not to notice how many people comment on his looks.

Huffing, she stood up and began to undress. The sooner she took a shower, the sooner they could discuss their mission plan. Acting like a hormonal teenager wouldn't help anything. She washed herself as quickly as possible, only mildly distracted by the strong scent of fresh pine from whatever soap Itachi had used.  

Hurry up Sakura, he's probably waiting so we can get started on planning.

By the time she was finished, her skin was pink where she had scrubbed away the sweat and grime of their journey. She threw on some pyjamas — a red t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants — and finally re-entered their room. 

It turned out that Itachi had already asked if some food could be brought up to their room, as Sakura was in the midst of drying her hair with her towel when a knock sounded at the door. The innkeeper carried in two trays of rice and grilled fish, setting them down on a small table. 

Once they were seated, their trays of food balanced in their laps, Itachi sealed the room with a quick jutsu. 

"So," Sakura said, swallowing a mouthful of fish, ‘we've already established that Person A will enter Kirigakure first. It makes sense for Person A to try and find work in the backstreets, since they can collect information whilst waiting for Person B to find them.’

‘At that point,’ Itachi said, ‘we’ll have to find a secure space where we can share information that we've gathered.’ He paused in thought. ‘Do you have a preference as to whether you want to be A or B?’

Sakura set down her chopsticks. ‘I've thought about it, and I think I want to be Person A. I've already come up with a backstory and some roles for us.’ Sensing that she had more or less hijacked any plans he might have had, she added, ‘I hope you don't mind.’

‘Not at all.’ He sipped at his glass of water. ‘Tell me what you had in mind.’

She explained everything: the persona she had created for herself and the circumstances around how she would 'meet' Itachi in Kiri. They rehearsed their new names and identities until it seemed like they were actually becoming one with their roles. For the most part, Itachi agreed with her ideas, sometimes chipping in with different perspectives or ways of combating potential risks that could arise. But all in all, Sakura was amazed by how readily he listened to her ideas, no matter how much she doubted their effectiveness. The last time she had joined Team Seven for an infiltration mission, her teammates had struggled to create a clear plan that everybody was happy with. There had been arguments and squabbling, so much so, it had occasionally put their mission in jeopardy.

But this was different. The ease with which they rehearsed their roles was something Sakura had never experienced before.

You were wrong, Sasuke. Itachi really is an incredible mission partner. 

Outside, the night sky was scattered with stars. The gentle lap of the ocean filled the evening air, broken occasionally by the caw of a seagull and traders’ voices as they prepared boxes of seafood for a midnight market in the next town. 

Sakura had left to take their empty trays back to the innkeeper, leaving Itachi alone in the lamplight. He was reclining on his side of the bed, eyes roaming over the book in his hand, but even as he scanned the words on the page over and over again, his mind was elsewhere.

Something was burning inside him. It was a familiar spark, but one that he hadn't felt in many years. Not since Shisui was alive. He’d spent so long carrying the secrets of the past on his back, and like Atlas, it had become his burden to bear alone. But Sakura's presence felt like a rush of warm water on his aching joints. It was no wonder she was beloved by those around her.

He shifted on the bed, curious about the image that was now pasted in the back of his mind — the image of Sakura earlier, having emerged from the shower, looking so incredibly pink. The skin of her exposed arms and neck had been flushed, and her pale hair, when dampened, had darkened to a richer pink.

How is it possible for someone to have hair that colour?

The question, although silly, pestered his thoughts. And when Sakura finally returned, he asked her that very question without stopping to think about how rude he sounded. At first she was bewildered, then she sulked around the room, taking her toothbrush from her toiletry bag. 

‘You sound like every stupid kid I had to deal with at the Academy,’ she muttered. There was frustration in her voice, only it wasn't directed at him.

‘Deal with?’

She leaned against the edge of the bed, toothbrush in hand. ‘They were pretty picky about hair colour for some reason,’ she said. ‘And foreheads.’

At this, he set his book down. ‘Is there something wrong with your forehead?’

She laughed bitterly. ‘Apparently I have a forehead like a road sign.’

Now he was totally lost. A road sign? Did they mean that her forehead was unusual? Itachi wasn't sure what to say in response. He didn't want to invoke her anger, but what kind of answer would she want to hear? Finally, he settled with, ’Your forehead doesn't look like a road sign.’

‘Well thanks,’ she said. ‘I think you're the first person to tell me that. Why the sudden interest, by the way?’

Itachi swallowed, his mind racing for an excuse. He couldn't exactly tell her that he had spent an inordinate amount of time wondering how a person could have pink hair, to the extent that he couldn't even concentrate on his book, now could he?

‘You’ve always had pink hair,’ he answered, slowly. ‘I remember you following my brother around as a child. But I haven’t encountered anybody else who bears the same colouring as you. I assume it’s a family trait?’

At this, Sakura's smile wavered. ‘Not exactly. My father's hair was sort of a burgundy colour when he was younger, though it became a lot lighter when his hair turned grey. As far as I know, that was a recessive gene in the Haruno family line. My mother was blonde, though. And well, I guess my hair is somewhere in-between.’

Itachi mulled this over. So it seemed that Sakura's hair was entirely unique to her. 

The level of satisfaction he felt at this made him doubt his own sanity. How could it be that he, Uchiha Itachi, was troubled by a woman's hair colour?

I must be losing my mind.

There was a click of a door as Sakura disappeared into the bathroom to brush her teeth. He listened to the splashing of water, before climbing under the bed covers and turning to face the window. 

It had been a long few days of travel, and he was looking forward to finally sleeping in a proper bed, even if he had to share it. 

He heard the bathroom door open. There was a moment’s pause, followed by a series of rustles, then the mattress dipped under her weight. Even with his back turned, he could feel her fumbling around with the pillows and the covers, and even hear her breathing – it was jagged. Nervous. She was nervous?

With a click, she turned off the bedside lamp, and everything was silent. The darkness was a remedy to his sore eyes. He had kept his Sharingan activated for a large portion of their journey, and now his eyes were prickling with overuse. He closed them, almost sighing as the pain quelled.

A rustle.

His eyes opened.

A creak. Something fleshy jabbed him in the calf — a foot?

‘Sakura, it has been a long day.’

‘I'm sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I didn't mean to kick you.’

‘That’s quite alright. But if you could try to get some sleep…’

She curled up under the covers. ‘I will,' she said. ‘Goodnight, Itachi.’

‘Goodnight, Sakura.’ 

He shut his eyes once more and concentrated on his breathing, a trick that his mother had taught him as a child when he struggled to sleep following the attack of the Nine-Tails.

Breathing in… And then out… In, and out… In… Out…

The mattress squeaked.

Itachi stifled a groan. From somewhere over his shoulder, he heard her mumble, ‘I'm really sorry, Itachi.’

He ran a hand over his face and turned over. She was bundled up in the duvet, her hair splayed out over the pillows. Despite the darkness and his deteriorating sight, he could make out the glisten of her green eyes staring back at him. 

‘Would I be correct in assuming you often have trouble sleeping?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Well, actually, not always. If I'm low on chakra or I've been in surgery for hours then I sleep easily. But otherwise, it's hard to fall asleep.’

‘Have you tried counting sheep?’

‘Ha ha, funny man,’ she said dryly. ‘I can't help it. It's because I'm always stressed out with everything that goes on at the hospital.’

‘And it's not because of anything else?’ 

He’d noticed her nervous breathing earlier, and whilst Itachi was many things, he was not born yesterday. It was expected that she would be nervous sharing a bed with him, and whilst he didn’t quite feel the same hesitation, he could understand hers. 

Sakura, naturally, didn’t seem to want to bring this up. There was a pause, before she replied with, ‘Like what?’

‘Who knows?’ he mused. ‘I can't read minds.’ She didn't respond. ‘Is there something that normally helps you sleep?’

In the darkness, he saw her eyes flit back and forth. ’A few years ago, Naruto gave me a teddy bear for my birthday. He said that if I really couldn't get to sleep, I could hug it and pretend it was him.’ Itachi tried not to frown at this. ‘At the time, I nearly punched him for that comment. But after a while I found that I slept better when I had it in bed next to me. I know it's ridiculous, but it worked.’ 

‘Do you happen to have it with you, by any chance?’

‘Sorry but no,’ she said. ‘I let a child in the paediatric ward borrow it. He was struggling to sleep without his parents around. The thing is, he got so attached to it, I didn't have the heart to ask for it back. Naruto understood when I told him.’

Itachi felt his hope deflate, but he racked his brains until he came to a half-way decent solution.

‘What are you doing?’ Sakura asked, as he suddenly reached under his head and pulled his pillow out, leaving him with nothing but the flat plains of the mattress to sleep on.

‘Here.’ He pushed the pillow toward her. ‘It's not a bear, but it might be sufficient.’

Sakura gingerly clutched the pillow. ‘But what about you? I can't just let you sleep like that.’

‘Sakura, I’m used to sleeping on rocks. I’m quite sure I'll survive.’

He closed his eyes yet again as she burrowed into the pillow, grasping it between her arms. He made sure he turned back to the window, just in case she still felt uncomfortable sleeping face to face. This time, the room was quiet as his body slowly relaxed. Sakura didn’t stir, even as he lay awake listening to the way her breathing deepened, evening out with every beat that passed. It wasn’t ideal, sleeping with nothing to support his head and shoulders, but soon he found himself drifting away. 

The evening mist had settled low in Kirigakure’s alleys, pressing against the window panes of old wooden buildings. The mist moved slowly, creeping into every nook and crack, inescapable in its path as it seeped through the village. To an outsider, it would look as though the mist was seeking something or someone, but the residents of Kirigakure paid it no mind. 

Deep inside Mistress’ tavern, Saika’s velvet dress clung to her hips as she sashayed through the dimly lit corridor, tugging the hand of the shinobi behind her. It was only her third day working for Mistress, but already she’d collected a following of clients eager for a taste of her. 

She giggled when the fingers of the shinobi’s other hand brushed against her waist, fisting the velvet fabric eagerly. She playfully slapped them away, pressing herself against a crimson wall as she ran a delicate finger along his jaw, enjoying the way his muscles tensed under her touch. 

‘Just a little longer. We're almost there,’ she said.

She stopped at a wooden door and pulled him inside before locking it behind them. There was a creak of springs as the shinobi made himself comfortable on the large bed in the centre of the room. He groaned lightly as Saika slid herself into his lap, sinking her weight into his. 

‘I'm going to screw over that bastard Aoi,’ he muttered, distracted as he stroked her the skin of her thigh. His breath was sharp and bitter with sake. ‘He knew how much I wanted that mission, and he just had to take it from me.’

She lightly took his chin and turned his head back to her. As if remembering where he was, he wrapped an arm around her, one hand playing with the low strap of her satin black dress. 

He was already snared in her trap. 

She smiled and pressed her lips to the shell of his ear. ‘Poor baby,’ she said. ‘Tell me all about it.’

Chapter Text

Twisting her auburn hair into a bun, Saika retreated to her quarters. The faint twang of the koto downstairs was drowned out by chatter, and the quiet calm of her room seemed like a breath of fresh air. Well, almost. She could still hear footsteps and giggles from the next hallway down, followed by breathy moans she'd prefer not to listen to. 

Apparently she had been looking pale and sickly all night, and despite insisting that she was perfectly fine, one of the other women offered to take her place downstairs, leaving Saika free to get some rest. This didn't mean that she was off the hook. Quite the opposite, in fact. All evening, whispers had been going around that Mistress wanted a private word with her. And when Mistress wants to speak with you alone, it's almost never a good sign.

Saika was sitting at her vanity, wiping her lipstick off with a tissue, when the door opened behind her and Mistress glided into the room. Her violet and white kimono rustled with every step, and although her face was plump and smooth under her powdered cheeks, there was an ageless quality about her. She could have been thirty, or perhaps fifty. It was impossible to tell. She stared at Saika with an expression that gave nothing back.

Saika stood and bowed. ‘Mistress-sama.’

‘I'm sure you've been expecting me,’ Mistress said. Saika remained silent. She knew not to speak without permission. ‘Sit, child.’

Saika sat on the stool of her vanity, quivering a little at the uncertainty of what Mistress was going to talk about. Deep down, however, she knew. Mistress' dark eyes were scanning her tense frame, inspecting every square inch of her. 

‘I understand you are new to this business. Your circumstances are less than fortunate, I must admit. And when you first came to me, desperate, I took pity on you.’ 

Saika listened with apprehension. She knew what Mistress was building up to, that this was the only chance she would have if she wanted to survive here. 

‘But,’ Mistress said, her voice sharp, ‘do not mistake pity for favours.’

Saika shrank back a little, her lips parting in surprise. However Mistress silenced her with one hand. 

‘I have seen the letters you send, child. I am not ignorant. Your family back in the Land of Noodles are relying on you, but they do not know the nature of your work here, do they?’

‘No.’ Saika shook her head. ‘They don’t.'

Mistress stalked around the room, her fingers brushing over Saika’s trinkets as she regarded them with cold detachment. Saika winced as Mistress picked up a rusted compact from the vanity, her fingers closing around the metal. 

’It is a story I have seen many times,’ Mistress said quietly. ‘Many girls just like you come and go in this business. Believe me, I know too well that you lack passion for this work… But so do the rest of my girls.’ 

‘Mistress-sama, I—‘

Mistress threw the compact down, where it hit the vanity with a clatter. ‘Do not speak back to me, girl! Your family's financial situation is no excuse for laziness. My customers are not paying to have their affections denied. Do you understand, child?’

Saika lowered her head.

‘I want to hear it in words.’

‘I understand,’ Saika whispered, unable to look up at the other woman. 

‘Good.’ Mistress stepped towards the door, adjusting her kimono. ’Take this evening for yourself, and consider whether you want to continue taking advantage of my generosity. There aren’t many out there who would employ a girl such as yourself with little work experience. And if you can’t bring yourself to commit to your work, then consider my generosity spent."

With that, Mistress left in a blur of violet and white satin.

Alone in her room once more, Saika released the long breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She locked the door, and collapsed onto her bed. It had been one week since she began working here, and she was expecting a visitor to show up soon enough. It all depended on how long it would take him to find her.

Looking up, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror of her vanity. Her bright green eyes were warm and familiar in this cold room. Her visitor would have no problems recognising her, that much she was sure of.

Even so, he was taking his sweet time getting to her.

I'm waiting, Itachi.

The main difference between Konoha's market and Kiri's was the seafood. Since Konoha happened to be built in the middle of a large landmass, there was limited access to seas and oceans, and anything other than freshwater fish had to be transported by merchants. Seafood was usually preserved in salt or vinegar so that it would last the lengthy journey from coastline to village without spoiling.

The markets in Kiri were incredible in comparison. Every morning, fresh catch was brought in straight from the fishing boats. The market was heaving with salmon, octopus, crabs and even squid, all proudly displayed on beds of ice. A large section of the market was dedicated purely to seafood, and the air had a briny scent distinctive of the ocean.

Mistress only gave them one day off per week, and only if there were enough women working downstairs to ensue that they weren't short staffed. Because one of her co-workers was currently stricken with flu, Saika almost had to forfeit her day off, if not for Hitomi. Over the past week, Hitomi had helped Saika adjust to her new life under Mistress' roof, and had offered to cover the shift in return for an ornamental comb from the markets.

‘There's a seller who always sets up shop between a haberdashers and a fabric stall,’ Hitomi had told her, just that morning. ‘You can't miss him. The table's full of jewellery boxes, hair pins and combs. There was a comb I really wanted last time I was around but I couldn't buy it. It was green glass decorated with little pieces of Mother of Pearl. Please, Saika-chan! I'm counting on you.’

Saika had asked her why she couldn't buy the comb that time, to which Hitomi explained that the seller was a friend of her uncle. Her circumstances were arguably worse than Saika's. Hitomi didn't have a mother or father – both were killed by disease and cholera – but she did have several aunts, uncles and siblings who were still alive, although with little money to feed themselves. They all knew that Hitomi was working for Mistress, and such a job brought shame on the family name. If Hitomi had approached the stall that day, it would have re-opened old wounds.

It was such a pity. Life had dealt Hitomi a hand that she didn’t deserve, and Saika felt all the more guilty that she was pretending to understand this poor girl's situation, when in reality she had a comfortable job, a warm bed, and teammates who were waiting for her back in Konoha.

Don't think too hard about it. Sakura may not share Hitomi-chan's circumstances but 'Saika' does. Don't let your cover slip.

That morning, Saika had risen early in hopes of snagging the comb before anybody else could. As she strolled through the market, basket in hand, she noted that the mist was particularly low. It seemed to take on a life of its own, pouring down from the mountains surrounding them and slinking through the streets, thickly obscuring the wooden stalls and huts lining the sides of the streets. As she neared the main square of the market, she realised that Hitomi had been right. 

It was easy to spot the small stall hiding between two others. The table glinted with hair pins, combs and other delicate ornaments. As Saika approached, she could see that all the items were either made directly from glass or had glass decorations. Hitomi’s comb was easy to spot. It was sitting in the far left corner of the table, and Saika could easily imagine how beautiful it would look in the girl’s long dark hair. The glass – somewhere between seaweed green and turquoise – would compliment the girl's mossy eyes, and the scattered pieces of Mother of Pearl were simply exquisite.

A throat cleared. The seller, a man with greying hair, was sitting on a stool behind the table, watching her intensely.

‘How much for this comb?' Saika asked.

‘800 yen,’ he said. 

For a glass comb this beautiful, it was inexpensive. But even so, Mistress didn't pay out an awful lot and Saika mentally winced as she fumbled for her purse.

It's a thank-you gift for Hitomi-chan, she reminded herself. I'm going to miss her when this mission is over.

She counted out the correct change, but before she could pay a hand emerged from behind her, tucking a note into the seller's outstretched palm.

‘It's my treat for the lady,’ the person said.

Saika stilled, recognising his voice immediately. 

Takeshi was a high ranking Kiri shinobi who worked closely with the Mizukage in the interrogation unit. He often stopped by Mistress's place, supposedly because he liked 'the company'. In an ideal world, he would be the perfect candidate for her to extract information from, but he was extremely loyal, that much was clear. Not to mention he posed a danger to her should he work out that she was a Konoha nin. 

Glancing over her shoulder, she noted that his uniform was immaculate without so much as a speck of dirt. As risky as it was to know him, Saika couldn't avoid or ignore his presence. In fact, Takeshi was far more polite and respectful than the majority of Mistress's regulars.

The seller wrapped the comb in brown paper and handed it over to Saika, who hesitantly placed it in her basket. She hated owing people.

‘Actually, this was supposed to be a gift for a friend,’ she said, offering Takeshi the coins she'd counted out. ‘Here.'

He smiled, flashing his teeth. ‘Do you really take me for the kind of man who would just take his money back like that? You don't give me enough credit.’

The women she worked with swooned over Takeshi. Not just because of the remarks he made, but because his smile was perfectly symmetrical, unlike his eyes. His left eye was brown whilst the right was hazel-green. Heterochromia was something Saika had only heard about but never seen, and on Takeshi it looked exotic.

Saika tipped the coins back into her purse. ‘Well, thank you, Takeshi-san. It's generous of you. I'm sure she’ll be happy.’

‘I hope so,’ Takeshi said. ‘This friend, I wouldn't happen to know her, by any chance?’

Aware that they were still standing next to the stall, she took Takeshi by the elbow and gently steered them into the crowds. Takeshi didn't protest, but he looked at her with mild confusion.

‘That man, he's a friend of Hitomi-chan's uncle,’ she explained as they walked by the market stalls.

His expression softened with realisation. ‘That's unfortunate.’

‘It's reality,’ Saika said. 

’An unfortunate reality,’ he agreed, staring into the mist with grim apprehension.  

For Saika, reality also involved tempting drunken Kiri nin into requesting private rooms. 

As always, she locked the door behind her, smoothed out her dress, and looked with distaste at the large bed engulfing the tiny room, in particular, the man slumped against the headboard.

‘I've been looking forward to this,’ he slurred. ‘My wife, she won't let me do things. You know, the stuff I can only think about when—’ He went quiet, then hiccupped. 

Saika was just glad that the private rooms were different to the rooms that the women actually slept and lived in. That way, her space was hers, and hers alone. 

She perched on the edge of the mattress and ran her palm along his chest. ‘Poor thing. Tell me, and I'll take care of you.’ He pulled himself up to whisper in her ear. She struggled to hide her grimace. ‘That’s… dirty.'

Already, he was already caught in her trap. 

From the very moment her fingers grazed his arm, he was under her genjutsu, and intoxicated enough that he could no longer distinguish dream from reality. Before she left Itachi back on the mainland, he taught her this genjutsu. It was simple but effective, and Itachi admitted to using it many a time himself. Unlike a regular genjutsu, this technique was hypnotic. Whilst the victim was trapped within the illusion itself, they lost all ability to regulate their spoken language, causing them to become a little more loose-lipped than usual.

Within her genjutsu, a spectre of Saika was slowly pulling off her dress, drawing out the moment inch by inch, whilst the shinobi was living out each and every one of his darkest wishes. Meanwhile, the real Saika was sitting on a chair by the bed, double-checking that she had soundproofed the room.

His wife deserves better, she thought, before beginning her usual ritual.

‘Tell me your rank,’ she said.

The shinobi groaned and mumbled his response. ‘Jounin.’

‘A Kiri nin was found having infiltrated Konoha. What do you know about this?’

‘Sent by Mizukage-sama…’ was the response.

She clicked her tongue. ‘Why was he sent by the Mizukage?’

‘To infiltrate Konohagakure.’

Saika’s brow began to twitch in irritation. She was going nowhere like this. Taking a deep breath, she reasoned that if this man truly was a jounin, he probably wouldn’t be privy to certain top-secret missions, hence his vague answers. 

'Do you know if there’s any reason why the Mizukage would want to infiltrate Konoha?’

The man smiled in the genjutsu, but didn't answer. She repeated the question, this time with more force.

‘Strange man,’ the shinobi said.

Finally, something I don’t already know. 

‘Tell me about this strange man.’

‘Only saw him once… talking with Mizukage-sama. Bandages everywhere. Yellow. I can’t—' The man shuddered and flinched, his body jolting all at once. 

Saika leaned forward and watched him carefully. This was interesting. His reaction had nothing to do with her genjutsu – she would be able to sense as much. This was a response to her question.

‘What do you mean, you can’t?' she asked.

A strangled cry fell from his lips. He angled his chin toward her and opened his mouth wide, gasping and gurgling in his trance. Her stomach dropped. His tongue had swelled, threatening to obstruct his airways, but at the very back, just underneath his uvula, a series of black lines intersected around his tongue like rope.

Saika moved swiftly, her hand pressing against his forehead as she steadily pushed her chakra into his body until his tongue reduced back to its regular size. 

So he's forbidden to talk about this 'strange man' due to a seal. This is exactly as Itachi described when he told me about the Kiri nin they found. 

Saika had interrogated an incredible number of shinobi during her mission, but this was the first time she’d encountered this seal. 

So the seal has only been used on selected shinobi.

Already, her genjutsu was beginning to ebb away. Soon, the shinobi would wake up having had the night of his life, non the wiser as to what had just happened. 

And so, Saika set the scene. She rumpled up the bedsheets, stripped the shinobi of his clothes and gingerly arranged the man’s body to make it appear as though something had happened between them. Once she was sure that he would wake up without sensing something amiss, she removed her soundproofing jutsu and left the room.

Downstairs, she spotted Takeshi sitting in a booth with his arm around Hitomi. Sliding past the bar, she requested a bottle of sake from the bartender, who smiled at her as always. In her short time working here, she had yet to learn the bartender's name. He was a quiet man who kept to himself. Although he never once uttered a word, he seemed to treat the women around him with kindness, and for this, he had a generous amount of Saika's respect.

When her eye caught Hitomi’s across the room, Saika grinned and slid into the booth  next to Takeshi, who didn't seem to mind being sandwiched between the two women. 

‘Your comb looks incredible!’ Saika said, admiring the green glass comb artfully placed in Hitomi’s hair.

‘It's all thanks to you.’ Hitomi angled her head to show it off. Beside her, Takeshi smiled to himself, but said nothing. 

‘It's the least I could do,’ Saika replied softly. She felt warm inside, seeing how pleased Hitomi was with her new hair accessory. ‘That shade of green really suits you. Come to think of it, you look like a river mermaid.’

‘I thought the same thing,’ Takeshi said, sipping at his drink while Hitomi giggled. ‘Only, if Hitomi-chan is a river mermaid, then Saika-chan must be a forest nymph.’ Saika raised an eyebrow. He was clearly a little tipsy. With a smirk, Takeshi explained, ‘It's your colouring, you see. Your hair is red, and your eyes are a paler green than Hitomi-chan's. You're like a…’ He frowned, snapping his fingers as he tried to think. ‘What's the name for a nymph who belongs to a tree?’

Hitomi shook her head. Saika hummed as she poured herself a glass of sake. "A dryad, perhaps?” She suggested, before downing her sake in one go. 

‘Perhaps.’ He looked at Saika curiously. ‘I only know Japanese myth. I'm not familiar with these other stories. Anyway, you seem to know a little about them.’

Hitomi was leaning forward, head balanced on her hand and eyes wide with intrigue. ‘Actually, Saika-chan knows a lot of things, like fishing and how to play the koto.’ She reached across Takeshi to take one of Saika's hands in her own. ‘You're too clever for a place like this. I know you're going to make it out of here one day. You're not like me.’

Saika placed her other hand atop of Hitomi’s, squeezing it gently. ‘Don't say things that aren't true.’

‘It really is true,’ Hitomi insisted, looking up at Saika through watery green eyes. ‘Please, when you make it out of here someday, take me with you.’

‘Hitomi…’ 

A wave of shame rolled over her. She wasn't even the person she was pretending to be. She didn't want to make promises that could compromise her mission, but she also had a heart too. Nobody could deny her that. 

‘I promise,’ she said. ‘If I get out, you're coming with me.’

I’ll damn well find a way of getting her out of this situation. I owe it to her. 

Hitomi smiled sadly, as though she didn’t truly believe what was said. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘I really… It means a lot.’ 

There was an appreciative silence as both girls held each other’s hands in unity. That was, until Takeshi cleared his throat. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but it’s a little awkward sitting in the middle of you both.’

Saika laughed at how they had been holding hands across him, their bare arms forming restraints.

‘It seems we've trapped you, Takeshi-san,’ Hitomi said, grinning mischievously. ‘And who’s to say we’ll let you go?’

‘Hmm.’ Takeshi closed his eyes. ‘Should I fight for freedom or should I just accept my fate?’ His mouth curled into a content smile as Hitomi leaned forward and kissed his jaw. ‘I suppose this isn’t too bad after all.’ 

Saika smiled. Although she had to be careful not to blow her cover around Takeshi, his presence was solid and comforting. He genuinely seemed to be interested in getting to know her and the other girls as people, and sometimes it felt like he was the only customer in Kirigakure who actually cared about their small, backstreet corner of the village. 

The small boat swayed in the wind as two ferrymen secured it to the docks. The lone passenger looked out into the thick mist suspended over the water’s glittering surface. He stood, wrapping his traveller’s cloak around his body as he braced against the cold night. Footsteps sounded from the dock, as a fisherman appeared on the edge. 

‘Let's call it a night, boys,’ he said to the ferrymen. They nodded in exhaustion, too tired to respond. ‘If anyone else wants a ride they'll have to wait until dawn.’ Eyeing the passenger, he asked, ‘Just you then, sir?’

‘It seems so.’

The fisherman yawned and offered a hand to help the passenger off. ‘Well then, good luck with your travels, and welcome to Kirigakure.’

Chapter Text

She noticed him instantly. 

Sandy hair, a mild tan and watery blue eyes that were fixed on her as she wafted around the room greeting customers. He was always watching with interest, occasionally sipping beer or sake as he did so. But he never approached. Just watched. He had first appeared two days prior, and Saika never saw him enter the bar, nor did she ever see him leave.

‘Your secret admirer's back,' Hitomi whispered in her ear one day. Customers had been drifting in and out slower than usual, and they were sitting alone together on a velvet bench in the corner, nursing cheap whiskey that Mistress reserved for staff.

Saika swirled the ice in her glass. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.’

Hitomi gave her a sharp look. ‘That guy over there. Don't stare, he'll know we're talking about him.’

Saika didn't need to look. She'd clocked his presence five minutes ago. He was currently sitting at the bar, being pestered by their co-worker, a voluptuous woman named Kiko whom he regarded with plain disinterest, his body sliding away from hers even as she pressed herself against him. 

‘Okay,’ Saika said. ‘I know he stares, but so does everyone here.’

‘Yeah, he stares. But only at you. Maybe he has a thing for redheads.’

Saika pouted a little and sniffed. ’My hair is auburn, I'll have you know.’

‘Don't avoid the subject,’ Hitomi insisted. ‘You should go over there and say hi.’

Saika looked over to where the man was slowly drinking his sake at the bar, ignoring  Kiko’s affections as she tried to engage him in conversation. If this mystery admirer was her mission partner in disguise, surely he would have made a move by now? 

Unless he’s waiting for me to come forth with information. 

Except there was nothing to suggest that he was Itachi. Nothing but his constant staring. Making the careless assumption that he was, in fact, Itachi could potentially compromise her cover. 

But either way, he’s still a customer. 

A customer who was currently sitting alone. 

Kiko had given up working her charm on him, having left to find a more eager patron. Saika sighed, relenting. Dismissing him would only bring her more problems, such as the tyrannical overlord she liked to call her boss. 

’If I don't go over there, Mistress-sama will be on my back, won’t she?’

Hitomi hummed pointedly, sipping her whiskey. ‘If I've noticed he has a thing for you, she's definitely noticed. She has eyes everywhere, even if she hardly comes down here.’ She gestured to some of the framed prints decorating the walls. ‘Sometimes I think she has a peephole inside one of these pictures.’

Snickering, Saika got to her feet, holding her glass unsteadily. ‘Shh, someone might hear you.’

‘Go on.’ Hitomi reached forward and gave her a gentle push in the direction of her admirer. ‘Get him. You never know, maybe he'll tip well.’

Saika's heart pounded as she strode across the room, swaying her hips to hide the effects of the whiskey. She sometimes allowed herself to become slightly tipsy, however anything more and she instantly burned off the alcohol with her chakra. She wasn’t here to have fun. 

Kiko was now observing her reproachfully, as though expecting her to fail miserably just as she had done. Saika ignored the other woman’s gaze, focusing instead on her target. The admirer’s eyes widened a little at the sight of her approach, and when she sat in the space next to him, resting her head on one hand, he only stared down into his beer. He said nothing to acknowledge her presence, and only then did she feel a lick of impatience. 

She nodded at Hitomi, who was watching with interest. ’My friend over there is convinced that you want me.’

At her words, his gaze lifted. There was something strange in his expression, as though he was searching for something in her features. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet and controlled, like a tightly bound coil. 

‘Your friend isn't wrong.’

‘You know, all you had to do was ask for me.’ She swigged the rest of her drink, grimacing at the burn in her throat. ‘Do you come to places like this often?’

He looked away sharply, and Saika wondered if he had misinterpreted her question as an attempt to patronise him. ‘It's my first time as a real customer,’ he said. ‘The last time I came to this side of town, it was for business rather than pleasure.’

He’s going to be a tricky one. 

Saika tapped her fingernails on her empty glass. This man definitely wasn't her mission partner. Itachi wouldn’t act so coldly to her, pretending to be interested yet closing her off with every word. She was tempted to walk away, just like Kiko had done, but she was also very, very aware that Hitomi had been right earlier. It was impossible to tell whether Mistress was watching, and she couldn’t just sit and chat to a customer, she had to physically do something. 

Anything to entice him. 

Who knows? He might have useful information. 

She shifted her legs, draping her thighs seductively over his. He stiffened a little at this, but then set his hand down on the exposed skin of her knee.

‘What kind of business do you do, Mister?’

‘I co-own a brewery.’

His hand had slipped beneath the hem of her dress now. The feeling of his rough skin sent a shudder through her. 

‘So, you're the one keeping the bar over there stocked up,’ she said.

He nodded distractedly. His gaze was fixed on her throat, and Saika's intuition rang like a warning siren. 

Something wasn’t right here. 

Although this man was a civilian, Kakashi had always told her to follow her gut, and right now her gut was screaming at her to investigate him thoroughly. And so, she inclined her head toward the door hidden at the back of the room. He followed her through the bar and into the dimly lit corridor that gave way to the private rooms upstairs.

Once the door had closed behind them, everything became strangely quiet. The click of her heels seemed to drown out every other minute sound, yet she could almost hear the walls breathing as they passed, the clumsy patter of his footsteps behind her, his shallow breaths, a little rougher than hers. Every sound expanding into fragments, only to be cut off by this disquiet. 

Was this the right decision? 

If he co-owned a brewery, he had to be responsible for stocking several other bars and taverns with drinks. In other words, he had access to a multitude of backstreet establishments where all kinds of information would be shared, accidentally or otherwise.

His footsteps grew more and more unsteady behind her. The hairs on her arms stood on end.

‘Your face is familiar,’ she said, just to break the silence.

‘I was here last week,’ he replied, slowly. ‘That was when I saw you.’ 

‘Oh really?’ 

There was a rustling of fabric. ‘Out of all the women in this place, you’re the one who acts like she’s something more than just a common whore.’

Whirling around, she grabbed the man's outstretched arm, pressing her thumb deep in the tendons of his wrist. The kunai he had been holding fell to the floor with a clatter. 

He grunted in pain, then with his other hand, shoved her hard against the wall. A spark of pain jolted down her spine. She pushed him back, grabbing his other wrist with her free hand and jutting her head forward. He ducked, dodging the blow that would have easily knocked him out. There was a ferocity in his watery eyes. A deep hatred that took her by surprise. 

‘You and all those others like you.’ A fleck of spittle landed just above her eyebrow. ‘Filth!’

He clenched his teeth and thrust a knee up towards her abdomen. There was no way she could dodge it without relinquishing her hold on his wrists, and so, when the blow landed, she clamped her teeth on her lower lip to distract herself from the searing ache below her ribs.

For a civilian, he’s strong. 

Her lip stung, the tang of blood fresh on her tongue. Her body instinctively wanted to hunch over, to protect herself from his assault. But there was a cruel satisfaction in his expression that infuriated her, as though he thrived on seeing her in pain. 

His knee shifted, ready to give it another shot.

Screw my cover! I don't care anymore! 

Chakra warmed her hands. She geared herself up to launch this bastard down the hall as he deserved, only for the man's head to fly back with a snap. His body became limp like a rag doll as he collapsed into a heap on the floor. 

What the hell just happened?

‘Mission completed.’ 

That voice…

Her skin crawled with fear. She turned to find Takeshi staring triumphantly at the unconscious body at his feet. 

When did he…? I didn’t even sense him. 

‘Are you alright, Saika-chan?’ He asked. 

'I'm alright,’ she said. ‘Just a little surprised.’

Perhaps he hadn’t witnessed much of the fight after all. He was looking at her with sympathy, brow furrowed in concern. ‘That must've been scary for you. I'm sorry you got caught up in my mission like this.’

‘Your mission? You knew he was going to attack me?’

He shook his head, looking mildly offended. ‘Of course not. I would have warned you if I’d known.’ 

‘So you were just following him…’ 

‘There was a previous incident similar to this one.’ Takeshi crouched down, pocketing the forgotten kunai and checking the man’s body for further weapons. ‘Back then, there were no witnesses other than him and the woman involved, and not enough evidence to prove anything. The whole thing was suspicious and I've been tailing him ever since.’ He smiled at her sheepishly. ‘It's also the reason why I've been around here a lot. Well, the primary reason anyway.’

Saika couldn’t return his smile. To her, the attacker was never really a threat; she had been more worried about blowing her cover, and so she’d held back. But if he had targeted anybody else, things wouldn't have turned out as well as they did. 

‘I'm just glad that it was me and not one of the others,’ she said quietly.

‘That reminds me.’ Takeshi straightened up, looking at her curiously. 'You seemed to be doing pretty well there, Saika-chan. You must be a lot stronger than you look.’

Oh no…

Her mind went blank for a split second as she scrambled together what was hopefully a believable story. ‘I know some basic defence,’ she lied. ‘A couple of years ago, my home village hired some shinobi to help us with bandits. They were nice enough to give us some self-defence training before they left.’

Takeshi’s eyes gave nothing away. He stepped over the body on the floor, closing the gap between them.

Takeshi?

The proximity was stifling, and every breath she took brought them closer. His warmth seemed to radiate into her body, yet her arms prickled with goosebumps.  She could only stare, confused, into his mismatched eyes as his thumb swept against her stinging lower lip. She winced a little. 

‘They trained you well,’ he said quietly. Then suddenly, he shifted away, leaving Saika shivering and unsure in his absence. 

What… what was that? 

Takeshi had only ever shown a friendly interest in the women who worked here. But that gesture seemed far too intimate to be friendly, and Saika couldn’t help but feel a little wary, especially after he’d seen her hold her own against a fully grown man wielding a kunai. However, Takeshi didn’t seem bothered by the incident. He was currently trying to hoist the unconscious man onto his back. 

‘You’re lucky he’s only a civilian,’ he said. ‘As for where he got a kunai from, I'll have to ask during the interrogation.’ Takeshi readjusted the man’s weight, then he turned, his eyes scanning over her once more. ‘You should get someone to take care of your injuries. I'll talk to Mistress-san too. Maybe I can get you some time off work.’

He didn't wait for her response, and instead carried the man back down the corridor towards the bar. Gasps and murmurs sounded from the further room, and seconds later, she heard the door bursting open as Hitomi appeared before her. 

‘I just saw Takeshi-san and that man from before. Are you…’ She stared at Saika's bleeding lip. ‘Oh Kami. Are you alright?’

Saika gave her a semi-reassuring smile. ‘I'm fine, honestly. I probably look worse than I feel.’

Hitomi placed a hand on Saika’s shoulder. ‘You need to take it easy for a while.’

Of course, Sakura was used to dealing with much worse events, but as Saika was a civilian by background, it was expected that she would be in shock for several days, if not longer. Before she could protest, Hitomi was already ushering her upstairs. 

‘Mistress-sama doesn't know what happened. I need to tell her in person,’ Saika told her.

Even though Takeshi had said he would talk to Mistress, who knows how long he would be caught up dealing with her attacker? If a shinobi was to explain the situation, Mistress was less likely to blame Saika for the incident. 

‘I think she would understand if you have an early night,’ Hitomi reassured her, wrapping her arm around Saika’s as they climbed the staircase to the uppermost floor. ‘I'll tell her myself, and once you've rested you can let her in on the details afterwards.’ When she caught sight of Saika’s face, she added, ‘I know you might feel alright, but that's probably just adrenaline.’

‘I can still work,’ Saika told her earnestly.

Hitomi looked at her with skepticism. ‘You really think I'd let you walk out like this? As if!’

Once they reached her room, Saika slipped into the bathroom to change into sleepwear, before she was pushed into sitting on the bed. Hitomi sat beside her and applied antiseptic to her bust lip. The antiseptic burned, but what hurt more was seeing the worry in her expression as she gently applied the ointment with featherlight fingers. 

It reminded her so much of Ino.

Ino had changed everything for Sakura, becoming protector, guardian angel, sister. It took a while for Sakura’s bullies to leave her alone completely and move along with their lives. More than once, she had been ambushed on her way home from the Academy, and more than twice Ino had found her crying, her skin dotted with cuts and scrapes. Every time, Ino said nothing. She just grasped Sakura by the hand and pulled her in the direction of the Yamanaka flower shop. Whether it was behind the counter or sitting on the front porch, Ino would steal her parents' first-aid kit from the cupboard above the sink and patch up Sakura's wounds with a kiss on the cheek, a cosmos in her hand, and a promise that the next day would be brighter than the last.

Sakura missed those days.

Ino's first-aid kit had been good for healing small scrapes, but it couldn't put Sakura's parents back together again. There were just too many pieces, many of which were lost in the rubble.

‘That should be good for now.’ Hitomi's soft voice broke the silence, and Sakura wordlessly slipped back into her role. ’You might need to reapply the lotion in the morning too. Personally, I’d see how it goes.’

When she stood up and uttered a goodnight, the door closing softly behind her, Saika crawled under the bedcovers, blinking away tears.

As expected, Mistress wasn't too pleased to hear the news.

‘I am not a woman who craves the spotlight.’ She was standing in the doorway to Saika’s room, her beady eyes fixed with icy condemnation. ‘Do not bring any more trouble to my doorstep, understood?’

Saika nodded and swallowed tentatively as her boss disappeared. Left to her own devices, she stretched out in bed and snuggled down into her pillow. She had been given a couple of days off due to 'shock', although everybody knew that the real reason was because split lips didn't bring in any money. Mistress would never say this aloud, but as far as everyone else was concerned, she was in no state to work and therefore needed as much time to readjust as possible. It would set her mission back a couple of days, but what could she do?

At first, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to relax and allow herself to be doted on. But after a three days of being fussed over, Saika was getting bored, and by the fourth evening she finally stepped out of her room in her best dress, a metallic olive green number with a high slit that showed off a tantalising amount of skin. 

Hitomi was waiting by the door, and looked a little concerned about Saika’s swift decision to work. ’Are you sure this is a good idea? You were pretty shaken up.’

Saika firmly closed her door behind her. Tonight was the night she was getting back to her mission. 

‘I'm sure. I can't stay cooped up forever.’ She made her way downstairs, Hitomi beside her. ‘Mistress-sama is already starting to make comments.’

‘If you say so,’ Hitomi murmured. ‘But if you feel like it's too much you can always stay around Takeshi-san.’

‘Takeshi-san?’ Saika was surprised to hear this. ‘He only came here because he’d been keeping watch over that guy. It was his mission. At least that's what he told me.’

‘I don't know anything about that,’ Hitomi replied. ‘Takeshi-san wasn't around for the two nights after, but he was here again last night. He asked about you.’ 

The brush of his thumb against her lip was still fresh in her memory, but it unsettled her a little. 

Things might become messier than I thought. 

The two of them entered the venue, emerging through the door beside the bar. The bartender blinked in surprise upon noticing Saika back to work, and poured out two shots for the girls. Saika downed hers quickly. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, handing him the empty shot glass which he took away wordlessly. 

Business was relatively slow, as it always was during the early evening. It was only when the fog settled in for the night that customers started to flock to this side of town. On the small stage at the other end, directly opposite the bar, a woman in a kimono was softly playing the koto. Hitomi and Saika slipped into their usual booth as they waited for more customers to arrive.

‘He never says very much, does he?’ Saika nodded in the direction of the bartender.

Hitomi’s lips parted in realisation. ’I'm guessing nobody thought to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’

‘Kentaro-san is mute. I don't know how true this is, but apparently he was a stowaway on a fishing boat. He lived on the streets before Mistress took him in.’

Saika scoffed at the story. ‘She likes to take everyone in.’

‘You're not wrong. That's how she gets into your head.’

In the short amount of time she'd spent in Kiri, Saika had already noticed how business owners such as Mistress thrived on providing shelter for those who were out of options. She would pay a pittance, enough to allow you to live, but never enough to leave. And if you acted in a way that she didn't like, she would happily remind you of her generosity and how easily it could disintegrate. Her corrupted system was nothing more than a trap — a web to lure in the desperate. No wonder Hitomi was stuck in this place.

‘Hey.’ 

Hitomi’s elbow nudged her side, and Saika looked over to see what had captured her friend's attention. A civilian man had just entered and was now seated at the bar.

Hitomi looked at Saika, unsure. ‘Do you want him or should I?’

‘Maybe you should have him.’ Saika chewed on her lip. ‘But be careful. Please.’

The other girl gave Saika a reassuring pat on the shoulder before striding across the room to the customer. In truth, Saika was glad to have a moment alone with her thoughts, and if you ignored the scandalous activities going on around her, it was peaceful just to sit and listen to the koto. 

However, the peace didn't last. 

The entrance doors swung open again and a familiar laugh echoed through the room. Takeshi was prompt as usual, and this time he’d brought a friend. The young civilian man at his side glanced stiffly around the bar. He looked borderline uncomfortable with the arm casually slung across his shoulder. As always, Takeshi’s eyes sought hers. His mouth cracked into a grin and he spoke quietly to his friend, steering the two of them toward her.

Hmm, what’s this?

On second glance, Takeshi’s friend was rather interesting. 

His was a new face in these parts. His deep brown hair flopped over a set of pale grey eyes, and when compared against Takeshi's tall muscular stature, he appeared lithe and graceful. 

But Saika knew better than to trust appearances. This man could bring Takeshi to the floor in a heartbeat. 

She knew this because his mannerisms gave him away; the smoothness of his steps, that thin line of his mouth curving into the ghost of a smile. The way his body moved was almost identical to his brother, and even the delicate arch of his brow left her certain.

You found me.

Ichiro knew it from the moment he saw her. 

Everything was different aside from her eyes. They were the same crisp shade of green that he had become so used to, and when her gaze met his, he was struck with a sudden sense of familiarity. It was strange, finding himself comforted by the presence of someone he had only known for a relatively short time.

The man beside him — having introduced himself earlier as Takeshi — was talking incessantly about how he just had to taste Kiri's local foods during his visit. Ichiro tuned out most of the chatter, offering nods and smiles where appropriate. 

He had been wandering through the village in search of the cheapest inn when he had discovered Takeshi. Refusing to take no for an answer, the shinobi had personally escorted him a nearby inn that apparently had the most impressive breakfast buffet in all of Kirigakure. Upon leaving, however, Takeshi mentioned something that piqued Ichiro's interest.

‘Well, since you're all set I should be off. I need to visit a friend of mine on the other side of town. She was recently attacked while at work by some lunatic, you see.’

Ichiro slowly set down his heavy bags, tucking his new room key into his pocket. ‘Attacked?’

Takeshi grimaced, realising his mistake. ‘Not that these things are common in Kiri,’ he swiftly corrected himself. ‘Please don't be alarmed. I don’t want visitors getting the wrong idea. It's just, well, Saika works in a less affluent side of town.’

Ichiro froze in thought. 

Saika. 

It was the name that he and Sakura had agreed on. A flower vibrant in colour. The name fit her perfectly. As did the name they chose for him. His silence must have been mistakable for lude interest because Takeshi was watching him slyly.

‘You know, why don't you come with me? Travelling alone must be a miserable journey. The place where Saika works has the best drinks and entertainment around.’ Takeshi lowered his voice. ‘And it's clean, if you know what I'm saying.’

There had been no guarantee that this 'Saika' was the same Saika that Ichiro was looking for, but it was worth a shot. And in retrospect, it seemed that luck was shining down on him. 

As the two men slipped into the booth, Ichiro noted the way that she coddled up to Takeshi's side. In fact, aside from the spark of recognition he had seen in her face only moments ago, she was ignoring his presence entirely. In other words, she was playing her role perfectly.

Good, Sakura.

Saika and Takeshi were wrapped up in the whispers of a conversation, and Ichiro felt a little like an addition - a spare part. Although he was impressed that she had built up such a level of trust with someone who was clearly high-ranking kiri nin. However, when Saika finally acknowledged Ichiro, she studied his hair and his clothes as though he were a foreign specimen, and the cool distance felt a little jarring. 

‘This is Ichiro-san,’ Takeshi explained. ‘He's visiting Kiri right now to sell... sorry, what was it you said you’re selling, Ichiro-san?’

‘Clothing. Traditional clothing.’

Saika leaned toward him, suddenly engrossed in the conversation. ‘You'll be selling at the market, right?’

He nodded.

‘So if I want a new yukata for when the weather warms up, I should come to you?’

‘Well,’ Ichiro replied, ‘I'm only here for a couple of months. Then I'm heading north west to the Land of Hot Springs. If you need a yukata for summer, you should come and see me sooner rather than later.’

Ichiro hadn't intended his words to sound mildly flirtatious, but the realisation hit him a few seconds too late. 

Takeshi laughed lightly. ‘For a quiet guy, you really get straight to the point.’

Saika wasn’t nearly as impressed. She delicately raised a brow, her pink lips downturned at the corners. ‘The last time I spoke to a quiet guy, he tried to stab me.’

Takeshi sobered at this, and Ichiro’s couldn’t tear his eyes away as the man squeezed Saika closer, resting a hand on her waist. The two of them exchanged a look — a silent conversation that Ichiro wasn't privy to. Watching this scene stirred something in him, but he quashed the feeling, putting it down to distrust. 

‘Takeshi-san mentioned something about that.’ He said, breaking whatever tension was pulling Saika and Takeshi together. ‘He told me earlier that you’d been attacked recently. I trust that you're alright now?’

Saika snuggled her head into Takeshi's shoulder. ‘I'm fine, thanks to this one.’

Ichiro didn’t enjoy the smug satisfaction on the other man’s face. Takeshi clearly got a kick out of playing the knight in shining armour. 

‘I'd been following the guy for a while. There was another incident just like it at another bar, but luckily I was there to sort ev—‘

The door flew open with a bang. 

‘Sir!’ 

The sound of koto stopped suddenly, and several heads turned to the source of the disruption. Ichiro calmly assessed the Kiri nin standing beside their booth, his uniform speckled with mud and blood. He looked tired yet alert, and his attention was trained on Takeshi. 

‘They said I'd find you here. My squad and I have just returned. The mission was a success but you're needed in the interrogation department immediately.’

Takeshi's manner changed in an instant, his features hardening like cold steel. ‘I take it you've apprehended a suspect?’ 

Interrogation…

They had to be careful. If Takeshi worked in interrogation, he was an expert at manipulation and reading people, but that also meant he was privy to a number of secrets. And if he was a regular here? 

I trust you’re keeping a close eye on him, Sakura. 

Ichiro spared a glance at her. On the surface she appeared disinterested, if not bored, however the subtle inclination of her head suggested that she was listening intently.

‘We have the leader,’ the Kiri nin said to Takeshi. ‘But the boss reckons it's going to be a struggle to get him to talk.’

Takeshi exhaled loudly and rubbed his temples. ‘I'll be there right away.’ He dismissed the Kiri nin, then turned to Saika, disentangling himself from her clutches. ‘I'm sorry about this. Take good care of Ichiro-san for me, he's new around here.’ Ichiro didn't know how to react when Takeshi winked at him. ‘I assume you're not going to try and hurt her like that other maniac.’

‘I don't have a kunai,’ he said. ‘And I wouldn't know how to use one even if I did.’

He forced himself to ignore the secret smile that Saika was so expertly hiding behind her hand. Takeshi, however, seemed convinced. Ichiro watched him leave before redirecting his attention to the woman across their small, intimate booth. She was staring at him coyly, but she didn’t speak, which he thought was a little odd. 

And then he felt her. 

Beneath the table, a leg curled around his, bare skin brushing bare skin. His breath hitched slightly, and a shiver teased his body. 

‘People don't just come here to talk,’ she murmured. ‘Unless you're Takeshi-san. But he's a special case.’

She was right, of course. A prostitute and a customer sitting together without so much as touching would seem strange to anybody watching on. He gave her the briefest of nods, and she scooted around the booth until she was curled around him. The sweet scent of jasmine perfume and the softness of her fingers on his chest overwhelmed his senses. Knowing that he couldn’t just sit there, he hesitantly placed a hand on her exposed thigh where the slit of her dress fell apart, giving way to creamy skin. 

Another shiver ran through him. He swallowed thickly. 

This was Sakura, he reminded himself. She was his teammate and mission partner. No matter what they had to do in order to keep up a pretence, he couldn’t allow himself to react in such an inappropriate fashion. 

‘So tell me about yourself, Ichiro-san.’ She tilted his chin towards her with one mischievous finger. ‘Your name. I suppose you're a first born son?’

Ichiro's mouth curled into a wry smile. Are you testing me, Sakura?

‘I have a younger brother, perhaps around your own age. He is desperate to take up our family's trade and our name, but he doesn't understand what exactly it entails.’

‘Oh? And is he anything like you?’

‘There are similarities, appearance-wise. But as for my brother, he is…’ he searched for the right word, ‘foolish.’

Saika’s fingers fisted possessively in his shirt, her mouth cracking into a grin. ‘Want to go somewhere we can be alone?’

Chapter Text

Sakura brought him to a lavish suite designed with only one purpose in mind. The large double bed was swathed in red satin and the curtains seemed to be made of a heavy silk, thick enough to protect customers’ identities. Dotted around the surfaces, a myriad of candles, flowers and gaudy decorations gave the room a lurid edge, and the dark panelling along the walls created an impression of being below ground, as though they were hidden away from the rest of the world. 

It didn’t matter to him. A room was a room. 

Once they were safely locked in and soundproofed, Itachi took a seat in a tub chair beside the bed. Sakura settled herself on the middle of the mattress. She appeared to be excited, presumably at having found him, and now that they were alone she self-consciously adjusted her dress to cover her legs. 

Itachi had never been interested in what women wore, namely because there was only one woman he had ever been interested in. But he had to admit, Sakura looked beautiful. The metallic green fabric gave her the aura of an ethereal creature, bringing out the colour of her eyes. However, he noticed the thin scab on her lower lip. It stuck out like a thorn. 

‘Tell me more about this attack,’ he said.

She waved it off, a little too cavalier. ‘It was just some crazy guy — a civilian. Somehow he’d managed to get his hands on a kunai. Didn't know how to use it though.’

‘Any idea of his motivations?’

‘He mentioned something about people like Saika being filth. Apparently something similar had happened before and he was the prime suspect.’

Itachi felt a little more at ease knowing that the incident was likely unconnected to their mission. However, he hadn’t been there. He couldn’t rule anything out. ‘Do you think we should be suspicious?’

She tilted her head in thought, and a lock of auburn hair brushed her bare shoulder. He looked away, trying not to stare. 

‘I can't tell,’ she said. ‘At the moment it just seems like he was a wannabe-murderer with a grudge against sex-workers. It didn’t seem like anything we should worry about.’ 

Sakura’s voice wavered a little and she looked to her left. Her fingers reached out to pull down sleeves that weren’t there. 

She’s uncomfortable. 

There was something else. Something she was keeping from him. And so, he waited. She said nothing, but shifted uncomfortably.

‘Sakura.’

She grimaced, then cracked under pressure. ‘Okay, okay! It was a close call. I almost got caught using my strength. Almost. I don't know how much Takeshi-san saw, but he didn't seem too surprised by anything.’

Itachi would be lying if he said he wasn’t apprehensive. This was no small matter ‘Not even a little?’

‘Maybe a little,’ she admitted. ‘But I came up with a stupid story to explain things. I told him that a group of shinobi visited my village to solve a bandit problem and they taught us some self-defence.’

‘Let's hope he believed you.’

‘If you were him, would you believe something like that?’

The answer came to him quickly. ‘No, I wouldn't believe it. But his behaviour around you tonight didn't seem suspicious. Just keep an eye on him whenever you can. And remember that bandit story in case he brings it up again. You don't want to forget anything.’

‘I will,’ Sakura said quietly. Taking advantage of the silence, she quickly changed the subject. ‘You know, I’ve been doing some digging using that genjutsu you taught me. Remember the Kiri nin who infiltrated Konoha? Well, it turns out that not all shinobi here have a similar seal on their tongues. And the ones that do have seen something they're not supposed to see. I’ve noticed a pattern.’

How intriguing… 

He braced his elbows on his knees, listening intently. ’A pattern?’ 

‘They've all seen a “strange man”,’ she said. ‘And they start mumbling about the colour yellow and bandages. Bandages seem to be a big thing with them.’

Itachi felt a lump in his throat.

Bandages. 

It couldn't be. 

But then, I already had my suspicions.

‘Itachi?' 

Sakura's smile had faded. She must have picked up on his edginess, as she was watching him carefully, waiting for him to say something.  

‘Anything more about bandages,’ he asked, ‘other than just mentioning it?’

She shook her head. ‘I've tried to get more information, but every time I ask their tongues start to swell. I'm scared of killing them accidentally.’ She huffed loudly, then asked, ‘Does the colour yellow hold any significance to you?’

Yellow held a lot of significance to him. 

Sasuke's first babygrow had been a sunny yellow with a picture of a cartoon chicken on his belly and a splattered egg across his behind where his nappy bulged out. Yellow was the colour his chin glowed when Izumi thrust a buttercup under his jaw one summer and insisted that it was because he liked butter. Not wanting to spoil her fun, he refrained from telling her that liking butter had nothing to do with it. Yellow was the one colour that made Shisui shudder because it reminded him of his great aunt's kitchen. Shisui once said that the walls were the exact shade of her teeth after a lifetime of drinking tea. Itachi had scolded him for that comment. 

Looking back, it was that side of Shisui he missed most. The mischievousness typical of a fifteen year old boy. As they grew more embroiled in village politics, Shisui’s playful personality had started to shrink further and further away until it was no longer there at all.

But he couldn't relay this to Sakura. It wasn't the answer she was looking for. So he simply told her, ‘No. It doesn’t.'

She looked disappointed by his answer. ‘This is harder than I thought.’

‘It was never going to be easy,’ he said. ‘You shouldn't worry. Even with what we know, I already have an idea of who our enemy might be.’

At this, Sakura jerked upright. ‘You already know something? You’re supposed to tell me these things! Otherwise, why am I here?’

She was right. He couldn't keep this from her. And it wasn't as if she wouldn't understand the political significance. She had seen his memories… Konoha’s history. He watched her intently, gauging her reaction.

‘Danzo.’

Her green eyes widened, and then she ran a hand over her face. ’Of course. Bandages. Danzo was covered in them. You think he's going to try and take Konoha back?’

Itachi nodded. ‘I can't be sure of anything just yet, but it's likely.’

‘Or at least too much of a coincidence,’ she agreed. ‘He must be in cahoots with the Mizukage.’

‘Perhaps. But it's going to be hard to get closer to the Mizukage, especially since Takeshi-san is rather insistent on showing me around the best parts of Kirigakure.’

Sakura collapsed back onto the bed and rubbed her eyes. Her auburn hair was splayed out across the duvet like a fan, and Itachi could easily imagine her as a siren. She was certainly dangerous enough. 

He sensed that Sakura was just as lost for words as he was. Neither of them spoke for a long few seconds, then she turned her head, looking at him from the bed. ’You know, you're supposed to be setting up a stall at the market tomorrow.’ 

He had almost forgotten about his stall. It had taken him a while to cross the sea to the Land of Water as he had to purchase a deal of traditional clothing to sell at Kiri's marketplace. At that moment, his goods were stashed safely in his room at the inn.

Sakura rolled over onto her stomach, resting her chin on her arms. ‘Apparently there's a festival coming up to celebrate the spring equinox. I bet loads of people will want to buy a yukata.’

This was news to Itachi. Takeshi had failed to mention a festival, however after he first arrived in Kiri, he’d noticed several groups of genin stringing up lanterns around the village. However, this would give them an unexpected advantage. Usually ninja let their guards down during festivals, and it would allow them to explore the village without looking suspicious. 

‘Plus,’ Sakura continued, ‘it means you can help me escape from Mistress for an evening. She’s driving me insane.’ 

This caught his attention. ’Your boss?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Sakura sighed. ‘She’s like a hawk.’ 

He couldn’t help but feel that Sakura was being a little over-dramatic. ‘She’s a civilian,’ he replied. ‘You could easily eliminate her.’ 

Sakura only laughed darkly, shaking her head. ‘You’ve never met the woman. Just wait until you try and have a conversation with her.’

Although he found Sakura’s frustrations rather amusing, Itachi had no interest in meeting Sakura’s boss. He already had one headstrong woman to deal with. Adding another one to that list would be overkill.  

’We can use the festival to scout around the village,’ he said, returning to their previous topic. ‘It’s likely there will be slightly less security during the evening. Most Kiri nin will be enjoying the festivities.’

‘Aside from the s-class shinobi,’ Sakura pointed out. ‘They'll be acting as security.’ Then she sat up on her elbows, suddenly animated. ‘Wait a second… there'll be loads of shinobi buying your kimonos and yukatas, right? If you slip something extra in there, they’ll be so drunk I doubt they’re going to notice.’

Now that was an idea he hadn’t considered. Trust Haruno Sakura to take him by surprise, yet again. 

‘You want me to bug my products?’

She shrugged, evidently pleased with her idea. ’It wouldn't hurt. We can hide them inside the seams and— how are you with sewing?’ 

He raised a brow. ‘My clothes are covered with the Uchiha symbol, Sakura. Do you really think my mother sews them on my clothes for me?’ 

Sakura held up a hand defensively. ‘It was just a question. I guess Sassy Itachi is back, hm?’ 

‘I’m not being sassy.’ 

She looked at him pointedly. ’Yeah, sure…’ 

His comment was quickly forgotten as she began to ramble on about the different ways they could hide a small receiver. She seemed particularly interested in the idea of adding a genjutsu as a safeguarding measure. Itachi found that he rather enjoyed listening to Sakura’s rambles, even if she became lost in her own idea and she seemed to forget that he was there at all. It wasn’t the subject that he liked, but the passion that radiated from her. It was infectious, kindling a small spark of happiness deep within him too. 

Then all too soon, she stopped. Her face fell. 

‘But then what if they sense the genjutsu?’ She mumbled, chewing on her thumbnail. ‘It would have to be undetectable to get past some of the sensory ninja. Maybe it's too risky after all.’

A small smile crept across his mouth. He had never shied away from a challenge. ‘Are you suggesting that my techniques are inefficient, Sakura?’

She rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated bow. ‘Oh legendary Uchiha Itachi, you already know I would never doubt your abilities, great sir.’ Then her smile wavered a little. ‘I’m just worried that we could get caught if we're not careful.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘we're lucky that I'm always careful.’

Over the next few days, Itachi visited Sakura every night and they talked in the security of the brothel’s private rooms. During the day, however, he disappeared.  Sakura could only assume he was busy at the market, snooping around Kirigakure, or sewing receivers into the fabric folds of his products. 

Meanwhile, Sakura continued to dig into the minds of the many shinobi who requested her services. Only, she seemed to have hit a roadblock. 

Only shinobi who worked closely with the Mizukage would actually be privy to the kind of information she was looking for. Those who frequented brothels and clubs were usually jounin or lower in rank, and those who were s-class, like Takeshi, liked to keep their senses sharp. They were never very big on drinking. At least not enough to become so intoxicated that they wouldn't notice a genjutsu.

No, things were not looking good on her end. 

At least, that was the case until a stroke of luck decided to walk straight into the bar one evening. 

Luck came in the form of a very, very drunk shinobi wearing a uniform that was so vastly different than Konoha's standard issue ones, Sakura had a hard time figuring out his rank. He waltzed up to the bartender, demanding a bottle of sake and her company. 

Sakura jaw clenched involuntarily when he looked at her and snapped his fingers at the door leading upstairs. He hadn't so much spoken to her, but as he picked up his sake, his eyes raked along her figure.

What a sleaze! I doubt he's of any use to me.

Still, it didn't hurt to try.

The bartender – whom she now knew as Kentaro — nodded at her in silent support as she followed Mr Sleaze upstairs. She smiled wryly. This had to be the first time she had ever been led by a customer. 

Ugh, he knows his way around here too well.

Mr Sleaze showed himself to an empty room. And by the time she had followed him inside, he had already climbed on the bed, unzipped his pants and was downing the sake straight from the bottle. When she turned to lock the door, she made sure to cast her jutsu out of his line of sight. Then she seated herself on the chair beside the bed. Mr Sleaze was now groping and squeezing the air in front of him.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ she grumbled. ‘I'm getting bored of hearing the same stories over and over. What do you know about a man with bandages?’

‘Hmm… He was talking to the Mizukage.’

Sakura perked up.

That's new.

Usually they moaned vaguely about a 'strange man' and 'yellow' before their tongues swelled up and almost cut off their airways.

‘What was he saying to the Mizukage?’

Mr Sleaze shuffled on the bed, smiling to himself. ’Talking about the Uchiha leader.’

Something didn’t add up. If he knew so much, his tongue should have become swollen by now. Unless he wasn’t sealed. In that case, how did he know so much that others didn’t?  

‘Where were you when they were talking?’

‘In the room,’ he said. 

Sakura frowned, skeptical. ’Why? What were you doing there?’

He groaned deeply, his fingers fisting the bedsheets, and Sakura tried not to grimace. She really didn't want to think about what “Saika” was doing with him in his illusion. After a long moment, he replied with, ’I’m a guard.’

Clearly not a very good one… 

‘If you're a guard,’ she asked, ‘why haven't you got a seal on your tongue?’

Mr Sleaze shook his head. ‘Guards swear an oath. There's no seal.’

Wow. Talk about a lack of security. 

Most village leaders weren’t so careless. It seemed a bit too much of a coincidence that a trusted guard drunkenly requested her attention, only to start revealing key information.

‘What brought you to this place, to me?’

Unexpectedly, his expression darkened and his voice trembled. ‘Want to forget,’ he whispered. ‘Wife is gone. Took my children too. I just want to disappear. Please. Please help me forget.’

Sakura slumped over, guilt sweeping through her. Maybe she had been wrong to nickname him Mr Sleaze after all. Even though he was the enemy, it was hard to feel genuine dislike for him when his problems were so human. With every year that passed, she became more and more aware of the blurred lines that defined their world. However, she couldn’t let her guard down now. Her shishou's old words of advice were engraved into her memory. 

‘Never sympathise with your enemy, Sakura. You may as well hand over your kunai.’

Reluctantly, she continued her interrogation. ‘What was the bandaged man talking to the Mizukage about?’

She wasn’t expecting much. His answer, however, caused her blood to chill.

‘Poison the Hokage, then steal his eyes.’

As soon as Itachi walked in, the first thing he noticed was Sakura. 

She was in the same booth as she always was. Only this time, there were two companions sitting opposite her: a man and a woman, so preoccupied with one another that they barely appeared to notice Sakura’s presence. She was drumming her fingers on the table, her eyes darting around inattentively, never focusing on one thing for more than two seconds. Yet there was an anticipation there; he could see it in the minute twitch of her head, the way her gaze circled back to the antique clock on the wall.  

Itachi could read her so easily. 

She was waiting for him. 

The second thing he noticed was the dress she was wearing. It was a tight scrap of a thing; black velvet that clung to every inch of her body and left strikingly little to the imagination. 

He caught a glimpse of her pale thigh and immediately looked away. 

What am I doing?  

Normally, he would have pushed aside any thoughts about her clothing. It was none of his business what she chose to wear, especially given the role she was playing. But at this moment, it was difficult not to notice how revealing her attire was, and Itachi was assaulted by a range of emotions all at once. He felt conflicted… caught off guard… confused. 

On one hand, he found himself disturbed by the amount of skin on show. On the other hand, regardless of her henge, he thought she looked quite lovely. And at the same time, he was stumped as to why he even cared at all. 

Sakura was his teammate. What did it matter to him what she wore? 

As he walked towards her, he made a point of keeping his eyes squarely above her shoulders. Her eyes lit up when he slipped into the booth beside her. 

’Ichiro-san,’ she murmured, her hand drifting to his shirt. ‘I missed you.’ The strong fragrance of jasmine paralysed him for a moment, and she leaned closer to whisper in his ear. ‘Try to loosen up a bit. You look way too uncomfortable around me. Oh, and also, I need to talk to you privately. It’s urgent.’

He was tempted to tell her that if he looked uncomfortable, it's because he was uncomfortable, but he bit back the comment. Itachi had been on numerous infiltration missions, some similar to this one. But for the first time in his career as a shinobi, he struggled to put aside his discomfort. Hesitation pulled at him as he placed a calloused hand on her waist and gently tugged her body closer. Sakura was too busy giggling at something the other couple had said to realise his predicament. 

She was too close. 

Every time she laughed, stirred, or even breathed heavily, her chest brushed his side and something shuddered inside him. A strange heat curled deep in his stomach, his instincts telling him to angle his body away, to sever the contact entirely. 

But there was also an itch inside him, a curious desperation to lean closer.

‘Ichiro-san?'

He blinked. The couple opposite were staring at him expectantly, as was Sakura. ‘I… apologise,’ he said slowly. ‘I must have been distracted. What was the question?’

The unnamed man smiled. ‘I don’t blame you, Ichiro-san.’ He looked to Sakura, his eyes tinged with something Itachi didn’t like. 'According to Saika, you own a stall at the market. I asked if you’re planning on working during the spring festival?’ 

Itachi gave the other man a polite half-smile. ‘I have no intention of working.’ He tapped his fingers thrice against Sakura’s waist. ‘Like tonight, I plan on enjoying my evening.’

Thankfully, Sakura took the hint and pulled them both to their feet. Itachi was glad to get out of this suffocating booth. Even just standing, the air felt clearer, cooler, and he could breathe freely now that he didn’t have Sakura’s stifling warmth crushed against him.

‘Lucky guy,’ he heard the other man mutter, as Sakura tugged him away by the hand.

‘I found out something earlier,’ Sakura whispered as she took them upstairs. ‘And you're not going to like it.'

When he didn’t reply, she looked over at him. His sharp features were cast in amber as they passed under the dim wall lamps, impassive as always. He revealed nothing of his thoughts. However, his hand was warm in hers, and there was a comfortable strength in his fingers that settled Sakura’s nerves. 

It was still an alien sensation, the knowledge that this was Itachi's hand in hers, that it was Sasuke's elusive older brother she was leading instead of some drunken ninja just looking for a good time. The past couple of weeks had felt like another world; she was starting to fear the prospect of forgetting that she was Haruno Sakura and not “Saika”, a fictional phantom of her imagination. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Sakura said, letting go of his hand. Her fingers suddenly felt cold. 

She felt the weight of his gaze on her. ‘There’s no need to apologise.’ 

‘Right.’ 

She was content with leading the way just so that she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.  

Were things always this awkward between us?

It was the hand holding. It had to be. As Saika, she felt comfortable doing a whole host of things that she wouldn’t normally do with Itachi. But as Sakura, she just couldn’t. They were supposed to be engaged… they had shared a bed… but it wasn’t enough. There was a vast gulf between them, a distance that would take time and affection to close up. But Itachi was always so indifferent, and Sakura had the distinct impression that he wasn’t a fan of any affection, public or otherwise. 

She decided to take him to the private rooms rather than her actual lodgings on the top floor. In time, she would invite him into her room. They needed people to notice the growing relationship between the two; a whirlwind romance would allow her to leave Kiri with Itachi without raising any suspicions. For now, it was still too soon. They rounded a corner into a long, stretching hall when she felt a prickle along the back of her neck.

They were being watched.

From the edge of her vision, Sakura spied the tall silhouette of her boss, half-hidden in the dark crevices at the end of the hall. Her arms were folded, and she was haughtily watching them.

Shit. Why is Mistress here?

Itachi’s mouth pressed into a thin line, revealing that he too had clocked Mistress’s presence. 

It was no wonder she was watching them so closely. The distance between them was glaringly obvious, and holding hands wasn’t nearly provocative enough to convince anyone, let alone someone as hawk-eyed as Mistress. 

What do I do? What do I do?!

Thinking fast, Sakura pushed him against the wall. And with a sharp look that said play along, she kissed him. 

At first Itachi didn't respond, and she began to feel a glimmer of embarrassment. But then his fingertips brushed her waist, urging her closer until all she could feel was the heat of his body. The kiss was clumsy, impulsive and raw around the edges. She could tell from his lack of technique that Itachi was either restraining himself or inexperienced. It didn’t matter, because much to Sakura’s surprise, she found that she was actually enjoying it.

That's okay, she reasoned. He's an attractive man. Of course you're going to enjoy it.

Except, Sakura’s enjoyment took a whole new turn when Itachi grabbed her wrists and pushed her against the wall. 

And just like that, he was everywhere. 

He held her firmly in place, his body nestled against hers as his lips laid rough kisses between her jaw and shoulder. Drunk with pleasure, her stomach did a strange little flip when she felt his teeth and tongue grazing at her skin until it began to sting. The familiar pine scent of his skin was strangely comforting, even as she was trapped in his warm arms and incapable of doing anything but feeling. Right now, that was all she wanted. 

To feel. 

This was an act. It was nothing more than a pretence for the sake of their mission. But at this very moment, Sakura didn’t want it to be.

How long have I wanted this?

Over Itachi’s shoulder, Mistress's gaze met Sakura's. She was still watching them with that strange reticent expression. Then finally, with a sweep of her kimono, the woman disappeared down the hall. 

Sakura closed her eyes. She could sense Mistress’s presence growing fainter and fainter, and she was certain Itachi could feel it too. Surely? 

Whether he could feel it or not, Itachi didn’t seem to care. 

His hands grasped her with enough force to bruise, and she found it impossible to focus as his soft lips descended dangerously low. Her fingers raked through his hair, tugging the silky strands in desperation as her heart pounded wildly. She needed to latch onto something; he was her anchor, and all she could do was hold onto him and never let go. She pulled at Itachi’s locks, lifting his face up to hers. 

Ichiro's pale eyes stared back at her. 

They were nothing like Itachi’s dark ones. In the brief second where their eyes met, she noticed something unusual in his gaze. A simmering fire. She had seen something similar in the other customers as she kissed them. But this was so, so different.  

She barely had a chance to think about it, as he suddenly lifted her clean off the ground, settling himself between her legs. 

This… this is… what is he doing? What am I doing?

They were supposed to be acting. They were supposed to be exchanging information. So why did her body seem to crave his touch? Why did her legs instinctively wrap around his hips, as though he belonged there? Why did it feel so right? 

His lips sought hers, kissing her hungrily. Then he shifted his hips and a delicious friction sent sparks through her body. She broke away, gasping. 

They had gone too far.

She squeezed his shoulder. ‘Ichiro-san?’

Itachi stilled. 

As if her words had broken a trance, his body stiffened. For several seconds, he neither spoke nor moved, but she felt his warm breath panting against the juncture of her shoulder. 

Then he slowly lowered Sakura down and stepped away, leaving a good metre between them. He remained silent, his usual mask of indifference sliding over his dark features. However, his hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching as though he had been burned. 

Sakura looked at his hands, ignoring the pang of hurt she felt at the sight. 

This is a mission, she told herself. Nothing more. 

Without another word, she moved past him down the hall. 

Chapter Text

Things had changed. 

Things had changed. There was no going back to the way things had been. And all it had taken was a single mistake in a hallway. 

Itachi had taken the chair nearest to the door, and was now staring at the carpet with his hands clasped together in his lap. Sakura was perching on a wicker stool by the window, where she could hear the faint jeering and laughter of the villagers outside. Their room was so far away, disconnected from everything and everyone around them. They were separated by mere metres, yet the space between them felt like a chasm, dark and impenetrable. 

One of them would have to speak first. It was inevitable. Sakura didn’t want it to be her because then she would have to decide whether or not to acknowledge what had happened, and Sakura didn’t want to acknowledge it. It was a lapse in judgement. A brief loss of control. 

But it was hard to deny what had happened between them. They would have to talk about it eventually. Even if they tried to bury it, it would work its way to the surface later down the line. 

It was also hard to deny her hurt at the way Itachi had removed himself so coldly, as though her skin had poisoned him. Something had twisted painfully inside her, but he had to be hurting too. 

I’m not Izumi. And I never will be. 

His voice tore through the silence of her bedroom. ‘You had something to tell me?’ 

Ah… so we’re pretending that it never happened. Brilliant.  

‘It's not good,’ Sakura said. She swallowed, only now realising that she hadn’t considered how difficult this would be. ‘Actually it's worse than not good. There's a plan. I don't know when it will happen, but it involves your father.’

Itachi's head slowly rose, meeting her eye. Her stomach flipped and she severed the contact.  

‘The Mizukage and Danzo have a plan to poison him. They want to steal his eyes.’

Itachi was stone still, emotionless. Then he released a long exhale and his interlaced fingers tightened, turning white at the knuckles.

‘I'm sorry, I should have found a way to tell you earlier—‘

‘Do you understand why they want my father's eyes, Sakura?’ His voice was barely a mumble. The room was so quiet, she was afraid of breathing too loudly.

Think, Sakura, think.

She thought back to the memories she had witnessed, the blood, the corpses, the emotional hurricane of the coup. A key phrase stood out amidst the carnage of Itachi’s memories. ‘Something about a wicked eye?’

He nodded, looking at his feet. ‘During the Third Great Ninja War, my father was known as Fugaku of the Wicked Eye. On the battlefield he claimed thousands of lives solely with his Sharingan. Even I would think twice about fighting him.’

A shudder ran through her. Itachi seemed hesitant about delving into Fugaku’s capabilities, but if his eyes were as strong as she expected, then they were too invaluable to allow Danzo to get his hands on them. 

‘We have to do something,’ she pressed him. Her fingers clenched around the fabric of her dress. ‘We need to send a message back home.’

Itachi didn’t share the same urgency. Calm and collected, he stood up and leaned against the wall. ‘Don't worry, Sakura. I’ll send a message to my father, but I trust that he’ll put up a defence. Many have tried and failed to steal his eyes, and so far none have succeeded. I’m more concerned that Danzo intends to start a war, but it would be foolish to simply send Kiri nin to attack Konoha. There’s something else we’re missing.’

Sakura chewed on her nails, struggling to swallow the anxiety eating away at her inside. Now that they had a new light on Danzo's movements, it was like they were waiting for a storm with no indication of when it could strike. 

‘Sakura.’ She glanced up to find Itachi looking down at her, his gaze soft. ‘I’ll send a message out through my crows. Now that we have an idea of who’s behind this, we can start on the last phase of the mission. The sooner we finish up here, the sooner we can return home.’ 

She mustered a reassuring smile and together, they rearranged the room, messing up the bedsheets to make it look as though they had been busy. He left before she did, heading back to the bar with mussed up hair and a lipstick stain on his collar. 

Sakura stayed behind. She sat on the rumpled bed and looked at her reflection in a mirror on the wall. She was too scared to meet her own gaze. 

The last phase of the mission. 

This was the part that gave her butterflies. 

‘If Saika is looking for a way out, it kind of makes sense that she would fall for a guy like Ichiro.’ 

Itachi nodded. ‘Nobody would question a whirlwind romance.’ 

It was easier said than done. 

Earlier, she had completely lost all sense of self. Things would be simple if Itachi was a natural Casanova who had a way with women, but he wasn't like that. He was mild mannered, careful, and painfully polite at times. 

Perhaps that was yet another front. 

To everyone else, he was the man who murdered the Third Hokage. To her he was a gentle pacifist. But back in that dingy hallway, he was dark and insistent, taking exactly what he wanted from her body without caring who was watching. 

She shivered. The delicate skin of her neck still tingled with the shadow of his lips. She knew that her neck would be bruised, even without looking. He had left his mark on her skin for everyone to see. And she had to admit, it scared her. 

It scared her because she liked it. 

The inn was vacant, drenched in a blue semi-darkness that reminded Itachi of the ocean at night. There were no sounds of life, no hushed whispers, no creaking footsteps from the rooms above. The floorboards groaned under his feet as he walked down the corridor from the stairwell to his room. 

Taking off his cloak, he went into the small adjoined bathroom to wash up. The bathroom was neither large nor luxurious, but it was utilitarian and held its purpose. He ran the taps until they were lukewarm and splashed cool water on his face as the last couple of hours flooded his mind. 

Danzo was undoubtedly pulling the strings. There was nobody who wanted revenge on the Uchiha more. But the Mizukage… What motivation could the Mizukage have in all this? His father had done nothing to provoke Kirigakure directly, but then again, Kiri had curated a history of attempting to steal the Sharingan.

As for the issue with his father, he wasn't worried per se. It would take an extraordinarily strong shinobi to steal his father’s eyes; the man was overprotective of the Sharingan, so much so that it went without saying that he would rather die than let its power fall in enemy hands. 

No. Itachi wasn't worried. But it wouldn't hurt to warn his father in advance. Sakura had done well to find out this information. A little too well, all things considered. She had found about this plot rather quickly, and Itachi wondered whether it was too convenient to be a coincidence.   

Sakura.

He gripped the sink with both hands, watching the water swirl around the bowl. 

It was unacceptable. His behaviour had been simply atrocious. From the minute he’d sensed her boss’s presence, he had known what to do. And she had looked him directly in the eye. It was fleeting, like a flash, but he’d caught it all the same. Sakura had made it clear that he was to follow along, that it was a temporary ploy to evade suspicion. 

And yet, when she kissed him, he had froze. 

Something had clicked deep within him. Was that the moment he lost control? No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He had been perfectly aware of himself. So what changed? 

The answer that came to him was so clear, so detestable, he wished that he could push it away.

I was searching for an excuse. 

An excuse to do what exactly? To kiss her? To feel the softness of her skin? That would be ridiculous. He wasn't the kind of man to give in to his desires so selfishly, especially not during a mission.

But I did.

He shut off the taps and patted his face with a clean towel. He knew that he should put this behind him and focus on the mission. But he could still see Sakura in his mind’s eye, vivid as a photograph, her back arched against him as she writhed and panted softly. The memory alone made him want to grimace. He had been so forceful, lost in his own self-indulgence, holding her far too tightly. The scent of Jasmine overwhelming every one of his senses, he had found it impossible to resist her. 

And then she had spoken. 

‘Ichiro-san?’

That name. 

Like a bucket of ice on flushed skin, that name alone had the power to bring him back to himself. 

She had looked upset. Only mildly, but he’d noticed the slight downturn of her mouth before she pasted over it with professionalism. He hadn't meant to cause her any discomfort, but that didn’t change the fact that he had.  

Folding the towel, Itachi left the bathroom and walked over to the window of his room. The mist was white and thick against the glass, obscuring his view of the village. Something stopped him from opening the window, a feeling that the mist could never be allowed to encroach on this space. A sickled moon shone through the haze, bright as ever. 

Itachi scribbled a note of warning onto an old scrap of envelope that he found in one of the dresser drawers. Then summoning Kin to the windowsill, he rolled it up tightly and fastened it to Kin's leg.

‘Deliver this to my father,’ he whispered, ‘and don’t fail me.’ 

Itachi hesitated, then opened the window a crack. The crow cocked its head, before launching out into the night.

‘Are you looking forward to the spring festival, Saika-chan?’

Sakura cast her eyes down to the cobbled market streets. She stepped carefully, avoiding puddles where the path dipped unevenly. The cobbles were slick with the recent rainfall and there were pools of bloodied fish water dripping from stalls where fishmongers were busy gutting their catch. 

She had encountered Takeshi purely by coincidence. As always, he insisted on escorting her through the markets, guiding her away from the maze of fishmongers and towards the homeware, clothes and trinkets.  

‘That depends on whether Mistress-sama would let me have the evening off. I don't suppose she would.’

‘You never know,’ Takeshi said, optimistically. 'She may be more lax than you’d think. She might even make an exception if someone were to invite you.’

Sakura held back a knowing smirk. ‘Oh? And who would invite someone like me?’

Takeshi cleared his throat. His attention flitted between the various stalls on either side of their path. ‘I don't know, perhaps somebody who admires you from afar? Somebody who cares about you far more than some of the other men you—’

‘Ichiro-san!’ 

Sakura made a show of smiling and waving at the familiar figure sitting behind a rickety stall twenty feet away. He was half-hidden behind a spectrum of kimonos and yukatas, but his face lifted when he heard his name. 

Takeshi went very still beside her. She slipped her arm out from under his and made a beeline for the stall. Takeshi slowly followed behind.  

‘Saika-san, Takeshi-san,’ Itachi greeted them politely. 

Takeshi stiffly returned the greeting while Sakura perused the neatly folded squares of fabric on the table. With Takeshi here as a witness, it was the perfect opportunity for Itachi to ask her to the festival. All she had to do was play her part perfectly. 

‘The fabrics are beautiful, aren't they, Takeshi-san?’ She fingered a blue yukata embroidered with tiny yellow flowers.

‘They are.’ He reached across her and pulled out the price tag from between the layers. ’Although a tad expensive.’

Sakura’s eyes honed in on the tag. ‘Oh! They’re a lot cheaper here than at the other stalls.’

‘Is that so? I wasn't aware,’ Takeshi said. ‘I don't usually wear traditional clothing. Nowadays it doesn't seem like a lucrative business, that is, if you don't mind me saying, Ichiro-san.’

Itachi smiled at the comment. ‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘Although the truth is, it’s simply a matter of knowing where to find your customers. With the festival approaching I’ve found plenty customers here in Kirigakure. Customers like Saika-san, here.’ 

His eyes flitted to Sakura. The warmth she found there was so unexpected, it caused her heart to skip a beat. 

It’s pretend, Sakura… don’t be an idiot.  

She cleared her throat. ’Do you have anything red? I've always wanted a red yukata but whenever I've found one it's always been too expensive.’

Sakura held her breath as Itachi stepped closer to where she was standing. He was watching her as though he was absorbing her every movement. Her mind flashed to the previous evening, and the desperate way he had looked at her right before he kissed her. 

She pushed away the image. 

‘It's interesting you should ask,’ Itachi said. ‘When I was setting up this morning, I found a yukata that I think would be perfect for your colouring, Saika-san.’ 

He raised his hand, and with a single delicate finger, brushed a lock of auburn hair away from her eyes. Sakura’s eyes widened, and she felt her cheeks warm. 

‘You did?’

‘I did. And it's red.’

Takeshi folded his arms. He was staring at a kimono hung on display. ‘I've always thought you suited green more.’

His remark went unheard — or at least, tactfully ignored — as Itachi reached beneath the table and brought up a folded square. As promised, the soft fabric was a deep crimson, and branches of white blossoms with little pink stamens crazed through the sea of red. Sakura’s eyes lit up at the sight. Although Itachi had picked it out for “Saika”, Sakura herself was bewitched by the elegant pattern. 

Itachi knows me well, she thought. 

In fact, he was watching her, searching her face for any sign of disappointment. ’I had a feeling you’d like it.’

She lifted up the corner of the fabric. ‘I can't see a price tag. How much is it?’ 

‘It's a gift,’ he insisted. 

She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t, really.’ 

‘I’d like you to have it.’ He hesitated, briefly glancing away. ’And perhaps you could wear it at the festival, if you would do me the honour of joining me for the evening.’

Sakura looked up, and although Ichiro’s floppy hair and grey eyes belonged to a stranger, the smile he wore was so strikingly Itachi that it left her stunned for a moment. Her lips parted and she felt her face growing hotter. 

‘You've turned red,’ he noted quietly. ‘I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Saika-san.’

‘No no, it's fine!’ She exclaimed, waving a hand awkwardly. ‘There’s no need to apologise!’

Takeshi hummed under his breath as if he were considering something. ‘I thought you were working the night of the festival, Ichiro-san?’ 

‘A night off wouldn’t do any harm.’

A frown grazed Takeshi’s face, and Sakura felt a little guilty. She knew it was wrong to be toying with his feelings like this, but ultimately his discomfort was a sign that their little “act" was believable. 

'That's good news,’ Takeshi said. ‘But Saika-chan and I were wondering whether or not she would be allowed the evening off. Mistress can be quite harsh sometimes, you know?’

Sakura feigned disappointment, and gingerly arranged the red yukata back on the table. ‘Takeshi-san has a good point. This yukata is wasted on me. There’s no way she’d let me go.’

‘We don’t know that just yet,’ Takeshi interjected. 

‘I will speak to her,’ Itachi said. ‘However much she pays you, I will pay her.’ Reaching across the table, he took Sakura’s hands in his own. The rough pad of his thumb traced across her palm. ‘So, Saika-san, will you enjoy the festival with me?’

She smiled shyly, her fingers closing around his. 

‘I will.’

‘Did you see his face?’ Sakura giggled. ‘I was trying not to look too much, but he was seething the whole time. I honestly thought he could snap at any moment.’ 

'It was certainly fun to watch,’ Itachi agreed. ‘Although I do believe it was cruel. He seems to be quite fond of you.’ 

‘It was necessary. Plus, he's not interested in me. It's “Saika” he wants.' 

‘Then he will have to settle for disappointment.’ 

Itachi had never been one to cause undue distress to others. However, he couldn’t help but smirk at the memory of their conversation in the market earlier that morning. He hadn’t expected it to be quite so… entertaining. It was low, even for him, but the sight of Takeshi's jaw clenching and unclenching gave him a sense of petty satisfaction.

They were currently in Sakura’s bedroom. He was sitting on the stool by her vanity, whilst Sakura was curled up on the bed. As they had entered the final stages of their mission, she had finally invited him up to her room, a move that would add authenticity to their budding romance. Her boss and colleagues had likely already noticed, and no doubt they would be quizzing “Saika” on her relationship with him later that evening. 

As for now, we need to prepare. 

’We have just two days until the festival,’ Itachi said, reaching into the pocket of his trousers. He pulled out a small earpiece and tossed it in her direction. She caught it with one hand and inspected it in her palm. 'It's small enough to fit just inside the ear. Although for the sake of caution you should hide it with your hair.’

‘Understood. But there are loads of microphones inside the clothes you've sold. How are we supposed to differentiate between the different voices?’

‘They work through location, and I only sold the bugged clothes to shinobi wearing a high ranking uniform.’

Sakura nodded and slid the earpiece into her ear, testing it out. ’So whenever we get closer to someone wearing a mic, we’ll be able to pick up on the conversation.’ 

‘Precisely.'

She opened the bedside drawer and took out a hand-mirror. Using her reflection, she began to twist her hair in different ways in an attempt at hiding the earpiece. Concealing his own would be far more difficult; Ichiro's hair wasn't nearly as long as his own natural hair. If push came to shove, he would have to use yet another genjutsu. 

Over the last few days, there seemed to be no end to the countless illusions used to hide his receivers. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have minded, but recently his eyes had started to bother him. Close up, his sight was perfect, but his long-range vision had started to blur. It wasn’t unexpected. Every so often, members of his clan would go for routine check-ups at the hospital with specialist medics to heal any ocular damage and clear the chakra pathways. He himself had been several times in his life. It was just unfortunate that his eyes had chosen this moment, whilst he was on a critical mission, to start playing up. He would have to ask Sakura for her assistance, perhaps after the festival.  

Speaking of which…  

Sakura had gone silent and was staring at the hand-mirror in her lap. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed. She bit her lip, as if she was on the verge of saying something but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Itachi had a feeling he knew what was on her mind. 

‘Sakura.’

She jumped. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘I should be asking you that.’ He noted the way she played nervously with her fingers, even as she smiled at him. 

‘What do you mean? I'm fine. Really.’

‘There’s something on your mind.’ 

She paled a little and turned away, placing the hand-mirror back in the bedside drawer. ‘I've actually been meaning to apologise,’ she said. 

He knew what was coming and he had mentally prepared for it. But a part of him wasn’t sure if he wanted to have this conversation at all. It would be easier for both of them if they pretended that it had never happened. Standing up, he walked towards the window, looking out at the fine sheen of rain pattering over roofs and drainpipes.

’Apologise for what?’

‘For the other night. I'm sorry for pouncing on you in the hall.’

‘There's no need to apologise,’ he said quickly. ‘Your boss was watching us.’

‘Even so, it probably took you by surprise. And, well, you definitely surprised me.’

‘I surprised you?’ 

‘Yeah. Kind of.’ Sakura sounded as though she wanted to shrivel into a corner and disappear, and the small sound of her voice twisted at his insides. Had his actions truly made her this uncomfortable around him?

This is my fault. I should have kept my distance. 

'No offence,’ she said, 'but I didn't take you as someone who was interested in that kind of stuff.’

Itachi turned his head from the window, startled by her words. She was disgusted by him, was she not? He had crossed a line, blurred the boundaries of their professional relationship by pushing her into a situation that she didn’t consent to. But instead of regarding him with aversion, she was leaning towards him, her body propped on one elbow, looking at him with wonder. 

She thought I wouldn’t be interested in her?

He should have been insulted by her brusque remark, however Itachi could only feel a vague sense of amusement. From what he’d gathered, her opinions of him were all based on Sasuke’s stories and complaints. And although his eyes were a little patchwork at times, Itachi wasn't deaf. Sasuke often made sly comments that he had yet to hit puberty or that he was an animatronic, oblivious to the opposite sex. It was no wonder Sakura thought that he was immune to sensuality.

‘I suppose my foolish little brother has told you a number of things about me.’ 

Her mouth quipped into a half-smile. ’Maybe.’

’My brother isn't entirely wrong,’ Itachi said. ‘Although he does like to grossly exaggerate.’

‘What's that supposed to mean?’

‘It means that no, I'm not used to physical intimacy. I admit, you did take me by surprise when you kissed me in the hallway, but that doesn’t mean I have no interest.’ 

A look of consternation crossed her features. ‘Then does that... Itachi, you…’

‘My father is very particular about keeping the Sharingan within the bloodline. No, I have never. Not even on a seduction mission.’

‘But you must have thought about it.’

‘Of course.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I'm a human being, despite what Sasuke might tell you.’

‘You never even came close though?’ She crawled forward on the bed, lying on her stomach as she peered up at him. ‘Not once? You could have had an Uchiha girlfriend.’

He turned back to the window, shaking his head. She wasn’t wrong, but still. ’After Izumi, I never really imagined myself with another person.’ 

‘So nobody caught your attention?’ She asked. 

‘Too many things have happened,’ he said, ‘have almost happened, and are likely to happen if I don't do something to stop them. I'm afraid relationships have never been a priority.’

Itachi continued to stare out of the window, watching as passers-by huddled inside the doorways of various clubs, seeking shelter from the rain. He was grateful for the distraction. Although he didn’t mind the topic of conversation, he liked to keep some things to himself. This strange pull drawing him towards Sakura was still very new, and somehow it felt wrong, talking to her about his past, especially with Izumi. 

‘You're right, I'm sorry,’ she said suddenly. ‘But it's we, not I.’

He frowned. Perhaps he had misheard. He walked back to the vanity stool and sat down. ’We, not I?’ 

‘You said bad things will happen “if I don't stop them”. There's no “I" in this anymore, Itachi. We're a team.’

We, not I. 

She was right. Of course she was. His little slip of the tongue revealed that, even if it was only subconsciously, he still considered his burdens his own. And just like that, Haruno Sakura had surprised him again. 

‘Maybe,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘if we spoke to Kakashi-sensei or Gai-sensei. Any of our comrades who have been affected since the coup, I'm sure we could get their support too.’

Itachi had considered recruiting Konoha’s top jounins before, however something had prevented him from acting on it. Now, with Sakura by his side, they would be far more likely to trust him as a comrade. 

‘It might be more difficult getting the Yamanaka, Nara and Akimichi clans to stand with us after what happened last time,’ he said, remembered the stump of Yamanaka Inoichi's arm bleeding out over gravel. Even years after the uprising, Itachi still received pointed glares whenever he was required to enter clan districts, regardless of the fact that he held the deepest of regrets for the way Konoha's politics had turned out.

‘That's true,’ she said. ‘But maybe forget about enlisting support from entire clans for now. Perhaps we could just think about individuals, like Tomoharu-kun for example.’

‘Uchiha Tomoharu?’ Itachi knew of the boy. He was a distant cousin of Itachi and Sasuke's, twenty years old, and a chuunin who often found himself on guard duty.  Itachi tended to steer clear of him; his demeanour was far too reminiscent of Shisui's. ‘How is it that you know Tomoharu, Sakura?’

‘I see him at the gate sometimes when I visit Ino-Pig. But before that, I treated him once when he was in the hospital. He always talks to me whenever we run into each other.’

Ino Pig?

Although Sakura had brushed over the odd nickname like it was common knowledge, Itachi was perplexed. If he remembered correctly, there was a young girl in Sasuke’s year at the academy with blonde hair and her father’s bright blue eyes. 

Is that what she calls Ino Yamanaka? A pig? 

He arched a brow at the nickname, noting that they were either best friends, worst enemies or a callous mixture of both. He set the matter aside for now, instead focusing on Tomoharu. ‘He doesn't seem to be affected by the Curse of Hatred.’ 

‘There's also Naruto and Sasuke-kun too,’ Sakura added. ‘I know Sasuke-kun isn't exactly against your father, but I’m sure he would understand—‘

‘He wouldn’t.’ Itachi said.

Sakura looked at him squarely, and he couldn’t work out whether she was hurt or determined. 

‘But he isn't like the rest of your clan. He doesn't look down on his team even though we're not Uchiha. He cares about us.’

‘He does care,’ Itachi said calmly, aware that Sakura could be more than a little defensive at times. ‘And while Sasuke is more progressive than the majority of the clan, I'm sure you've noticed that my little brother has been fed lie after lie about the successes of the glorious Uchiha clan.’ 

Sakura slumped on the bed, her lips pressed in a thin line. Then she sat up, silently brushing lint from her knee. He could only imagine what she was thinking, perhaps recalling times when Sasuke had innocently said something that those around him disagreed with. 

‘But Sasuke-kun isn't a hateful person,’ she whispered.

‘Just a little ignorant.’ 

Her eye slid to his, uncertain. ‘Maybe we could change that. Maybe if you showed Sasuke-kun, you know, the same way you showed me…’

Itachi tensed. ‘No,’ he said. 

‘He’d make a good ally.'

‘No, Sakura.’ When she huffed with disappointment, he added, ‘And I don’t wish to argue about this.’

’Don’t you see it? That's part of the problem,’ she insisted. ‘I've cried for my parents on Sasuke's shoulder so many times, but he never really understands. Did you know he’s asked me what the coup was really like? He wants to know about everything I’ve seen.’ 

Itachi was somewhat disturbed that his baby brother was asking morbid questions about the coup. ’I didn’t know that,’ he murmured. 

Sakura carried on talking in a desperate chatter, seemingly unaware that Itachi had answered her question at all. ‘I can tell that deep down, he doesn't believe it. He has no idea because he was underground the entire time, and when he acts so ignorant like that, I never know how it’s supposed to make me feel.’

Sakura went quiet, her hand coming to rest over her mouth as her outburst waned. There was something quietly emotional about her, and it confused Itachi in more ways than one. Sakura held a certain innocence, chattering endlessly and throwing tantrums whenever she didn’t get her way. However, at other times she was an excellent strategist with a stubborn streak and a flaming temper. Like the weather, her moods would shift from sunshine and hope to torrential rain and emotional surges. And then there were the thunderstorms, where she would attack him in the street, just as she had that day after they’d met in the Hokage’s office. 

Unlike him, she wasn’t afraid to feel every shade of emotion. 

Perhaps Sakura has what I’ve been missing all this time…  

‘I might have kept him in the dark for too long,’ Itachi said at last. ‘But I’ve spent my entire life protecting him from bloodshed.’

‘I know,’ Sakura muttered. ‘But Sasuke-kun has seen more blood than you realise. We all have. You might not agree, but I think he would side with us.’

He didn't reply. In truth, he didn't know how to. He hadn't wanted to face the truth before, but his otouto was no longer the same boy who begged him for piggy back rides and welcomed him home with a hug. 

Running a hand through his hair, Itachi chuckled dryly. ’Tell me, Sakura, how is it that a conversation about sex has turned into an outline for a guerrilla movement?’

She gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘You know me,’ she said. ‘I make love and war.’ Her face crumpled with embarrassment. ‘Sorry, that sounded so much cooler in my head than it did out loud.’

He laughed softly as she rolled back onto the bed, burying her blushing face in her hands. Somehow his burdens felt lighter with Sakura by his side. It was almost like…

No, she's not like Izumi. 

Izumi had been a light, calming presence when he was struggling with the pressures of the clan, but Izumi and Sakura were like light and dark. 

Izumi had been a closed door. Itachi had never been able to talk to her about the depth of his troubles. A few times he had tried to gauge whether or not he could, but these attempts had never amounted to much.

‘Itachi-kun?’ 

Izumi's voice had blended into the background of his mind, distinct, yet faded over time. Her presence was only one corner in the wallpaper of his life, peeling away from the walls as the past pushed its way into the present. 

He felt the wood of the pier shift as Izumi took a seat beside him. Her feet appeared beside his, dangling off the ledge, swinging back and forth. She was holding a wrapped cloth parcel in her hands. 

‘I brought you something,’ she said. ‘You're never going to guess what it is.’

He already knew what it was, but he let her savour the moment. She unwound the cloth to reveal a white paper box with a familiar logo.

‘Tada!’ She opened the box and held up a stick of hanami dango. ‘It's all for you. A gift, from yours truly.’

He smiled and took the dango from her. ‘Thank you, Izumi.’

She looked down, staring at the lake water as it lapped about the pier. The squawk of gulls overhead seemed to pierce the unnatural silence, and Itachi thought he might have done something wrong. But then he felt the toe of her sandal nudge against his heel as she playfully kicked his foot, bouncing it. It was something she quite liked to do whenever they sat together like this. He never minded. Well, bar one instance when she had accidentally nudged his sandal off and he’d been forced to dive headfirst into the lake to retrieve it.

‘You've been so distant recently,’ she said. ‘Actually, scratch that. You're always distant. But something's wrong, I can tell.’ Her hand was on the pier, inches away from his. ‘Please don't push me away Itachi-kun.’

He took a bite of dango as he mulled over his thoughts. How much he could tell her about his feelings toward the Uchiha's plot? He had watched her from the Anbu observation towers; Izumi attended the clan meetings dutifully, arriving earlier than scheduled. But Izumi wasn’t power hungry like the older generations. She didn't seem to hold any grudge toward the village. Could he trust her with his feelings?

She must have misunderstood his silence, as she looked away with a disappointed smile. ‘It doesn't matter. I know you like your space, so I won't push you.’

‘Izumi.’

‘What is it, Itachi-kun?’

He struggled to enunciate the words, aware that anybody could be listening in. ‘How do you feel about the clan?’

Izumi’s hand shifted away from his. ’I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘What I mean is, does the pressure of the clan bother you at all? The plan that my father has created, do you agree with him?’

Izumi looked out at the line of trees on the other side of the lake. She thought for a moment. ‘I agree with him in some ways.’

Itachi's heart sank, but he didn’t want to pre-emptively judge her. He patiently waited for her to explain. 

‘I understand where he’s coming from,’ she continued. ’The clan has been pushed aside for decades, and everyone knows we're not trusted because of the Sharingan. It's not really fair that we have to be monitored all the time after the Nine-Tails attack.’ She paused, her eyes narrowing with regret. ‘Believe me, Itachi-kun, I don't like the fact that we'll all have to fight for more power within the village. But if it means that your father would be the Hokage, maybe, you know…’

There was no need for her to finish her sentence. He already knew how it would end. But even as he was coming to terms with the fact that Izumi, of all people, was aligned with his father’s philosophies, when she spoke next, it sent fear shooting down Itachi’s spine. 

‘You don't want your father to be Hokage, do you?’

He didn't answer. Izumi had stopped kicking her feet against his. The forgotten box of dango sat like an anchor between them. 

‘Not even when he's been blamed and hated for things that he didn't do?’

He stared at the half-eaten stick of dango in his hands. Then he felt the pier shift as she stood to leave. His gut screamed at him to stop her, but he couldn’t move. His life was in her hands; she could so easily compromise his position as an agent and all it would take was a couple of words to his father. 

As if reading his mind, he heard her say, ‘Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anybody. I just…’ Her voice was flat. Disappointed. ‘I thought you would’ve understood how the rest of us feel.’

‘Izumi, it's not that I don’t understand.'

’It's okay, Itachi-kun. You don't need to explain it to me. I know you don't like fighting. That's why you told me to give up being a shinobi when we went for lunch in that café, isn't it? And it’s why you don't like your father's plan.’

His fists were tightly clenched, his spine rigid.

‘I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree, ne, Itachi-kun?’ When he finally coerced his body into moving again, he looked over his shoulder. Her smile was rictus, like a mask. ‘I hope you enjoy the dango. I'll see you around.’

He heard her footsteps growing more and more distant behind him, and knew that they would never be able to revisit those days when they were mere children, too young to worry about politics and—

‘Itachi?' 

A hand waved in front of his eyes. He blinked. 

‘Itachi, don't space out on me now.’

He was still in Sakura’s bedroom, sitting on the stool in front of her vanity. Heavy rain drummed on the roof above, and through the window he could see the mist had cleared entirely in wake of the storm. Sakura was crouching before him, her fingers hovering in front of his face. She had dropped her henge, and it was strange seeing her real features after so long. Her bright green eyes, familiar as always, were filled with a doctor's concern. For a moment, he thought he could discern something else in her eyes, but it must have been his mind playing tricks on him. 

‘Sakura.’

She smiled, her brow furrowing. ‘Yes, that's me. I'm Sakura.’ 

How could I compare her to Izumi? They're nothing alike.

Izumi had been like a lantern in the dark times of his past. But Sakura? Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what these feelings meant, she was a bold splash of colour in the tapestry of his present, never waiting for him to catch up with her, but forcing him to do so. 

His hand reached up, two fingers inching towards her forehead, only to pull away at the last second. Instead, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. 

‘Thank you,’ he said simply.

Chapter Text

Sakura had been to several festivals throughout her life. She had spent Konoha’s New Years’ festivals hand-in-hand with her parents, begging her mother for a wooden kitsune mask and stuffing her cheeks with takoyaki and grilled squid. When the fireworks had started, she hid in her father’s coat, afraid that the sparkling embers would fall from the sky and scorch her. 

After her seventh birthday, she no longer went to the New Years’ festivals. 

Despite this, she still found herself at the annual Hanami festival. After dragging Sasuke and Naruto through the flower displays, she had ended up babysitting them as they furiously competed to win a plush dinosaur by throwing shiruken at fast moving targets. Sasuke won, naturally. 

Now, Sakura would be spending Kirigakure’s Spring Festival with another Uchiha, and although she was only attending for the sake of her mission, a flutter of excitement rushed through her. Not because of the festival, but because of him. 

‘You’re so lucky, Saika-chan,’ Hitomi sighed, rummaging through her makeup bag. ‘And Ichiro-san is lucky too. He’ll have a heart attack when he sees you, I’m sure of it.’ 

They were sitting on Sakura’s bed. Sakura tried not to move as Hitomi dabbed a dainty brush into a pot of beni and swiped it across Sakura’s lips. 

Last night, Itachi had caused quite a stir when he’d payed Mistress to take “Saika" out for the evening. Some of the other women had been jealous, but Hitomi had swept Sakura up in a hug and volunteered to do her hair and makeup. Sakura was glad for it. She had never had a steady hand for cosmetics. That was always Ino’s thing. 

‘Do you think it’s too much?’ Sakura asked nervously, turning around to look at the vanity mirror behind her. Hitomi pulled her back before she could see her reflection.  

‘No peeking!’ Hitomi insisted. ‘And I said I’d keep it natural, so don’t worry!’ 

‘Fine,’ Sakura said. ‘I won’t try to look. Just don’t make me look like a clown.’ 

Hitomi laughed, adding another thin layer of the shining red pigment to Sakura's lips. ‘I don’t think that’s possible. This beni belonged to my grandmother. Apparently it rolled out of a Daimyo's wife's purse, so it's the real deal, I promise.’ 

Sakura smiled. Although she was a little concerned that Hitomi was wasting her grandmother's cosmetics on someone like her, she really did feel like a princess. The yukata Itachi had gifted her was a perfect fit. The crimson fabric looked incredible against her pale skin, and she adored the tiny blossoms weaving in from the edges. But most of all, she loved it because he had given it to her. At the back of her mind, she knew that she was already too invested in this. It was a pretend relationship, and really he had given it to “Saika”. But she was also just a girl, and mission or otherwise, she couldn’t help but feel nervous about going on a date with Uchiha Itachi. 

Especially after what happened…

She could still feel his lips on her neck, his hands roaming her body, pulling her into him. Her fingers unconsciously lifted to her neck, touching the marks he’d left behind. Even though they had talked about it, they hadn’t really touched on the root of the issue. 

‘You did take me by surprise when you kissed me in the hallway, but that doesn’t mean I have no interest.’ 

Those were his words, not hers. So did that mean he was interested, after all? Did he share in this simmering attraction? Sakura couldn’t be sure. He had never directly admitted to it at the time, but in the most roundabout way possible, he had hinted that he was interested in her. 

‘You’ll see him soon,’ Hitomi said, interrupting Sakura’s train of thought.  

‘Hm?’ 

Hitomi smiled knowingly, and realising what she had done, Sakura pulled her hand away from her neck. With a finishing flourish, Hitomi adjusted a stray lock of Sakura’s hair and stood back to admire her handiwork. 

‘I think we’re just about done!’ 

Sakura turned to look in the vanity mirror, and felt a rush of heat upon seeing her reflection. The woman in the mirror stared back, wide eyed and blushing like a porcelain doll. There was an innocence to her face, a delicateness to her features. Sakura almost couldn’t believe that this woman was her, that they were one. 

‘Hitomi-chan, you…’ 

Behind her, Hitomi giggled. Sakura watched in the mirror as Hitomi grabbed a red silk purse and placed it in her hands. The fabric was smooth and soft under her touch, perfectly matching the shade of her yukata. Hitomi then stepped around the bed and appeared before Sakura. Her face was lit up in an encouraging smile. 

‘Go get him, Saika-chan.’ 

Itachi had never been on an actual date. Eating dango with Izumi by the lake had been a chance encounter; it didn’t really count. His father had tried numerous times to push him into blind dates with potential marriage partners, but Itachi had always point-blank refused to attend. 

This evening, however, was new. 

Their date was supposed to appear convincing to onlookers, but for the first time in his career, Itachi had no prior experience to fall back on. What was he supposed to say when he met her, for instance? Should he comment on her appearance? Would it be rude not to kiss her?

Of course it would. 

But “Saika” aside, would his advances be unwanted by Sakura? After what had happened between them, even a kiss would be crossing a line. And this time, there would be no going back. 

He could admit it now. He was attracted to her. Uchiha Itachi was attracted to Haruno Sakura. 

But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether “attracted” was the right word to describe this feeling. 

Back then, I…

His mind was thrown back to her bedroom, her face hovering in front of his as he remembered where he was. He had almost tapped her forehead, the same gesture that he used so often with his otouto, but caught himself just before his fingers connected with her skin. 

It had been an instant reaction, and something had stirred deep within his core, a feeling akin to fear that doused him like ice. Sakura was not Izumi, and whatever he felt for her was very, very different to his feelings from the past. He didn’t yet have a  word to describe what he felt towards her, and therefore attracted would have to do. 

It just feels… insubstantial, somehow. 

There was no end to the thoughts and doubts that ran rampant through his mind as he left the inn and walked through the village. Around him, the festival was already alive with throngs of civilians, clustering around brightly lit stalls with games and snacks. The air buzzed with excitement, an energy that wrapped around the village centre like a current. 

However, Itachi steered clear of the heart of the festival, dipping into the side streets that fed out towards the seedier areas of town. The evening sky was dark, growing darker still as glowing strings of festival lanterns gave way to the blinding neon signs of rowdy bars. Itachi waked in the shadows of the streets, avoiding the drunken clamour around him. When he finally stopped in front of Mistress’s place, he chose to wait just beneath the shadow of a lantern outside the entrance.

As he waited, he smoothed the lapel of his yukata, adjusting it slightly. He had swapped his civilian clothes for something a little more suitable, but in truth, it only made him uncomfortable. The last time he had worn a yukata it was at a funeral, and somewhere along the lines, after attending a number of funerals, he had begun to associate the two. The earpiece felt clunky in his ear, but it was necessary. Already he had seen a number of shinobi wandering the streets off-duty. 

We just have to be patient , he thought. 

All at once, the doors opened to reveal Sakura. His eyes widened slightly as he took in her appearance, blazing in her red floral yukata. Her hair was styled ornately, twisted into place with a wooden comb, and she was clutching a red purse to her chest. Her fingers tightening nervously around the drawstring handles as she noticed him. 

‘Ichiro-san,’ she said. 

He couldn’t speak for a moment, his eyes tracing the little details of her clothing, from the geta sandals on her feet to the green-gold sheen of her red beni. Although her hair was auburn, not pink, and Saika’s features were still those of a stranger, there was something uniquely Sakura about the way she moved. 

‘Ichiro-san?’ She repeated, unsure.  

His eyes flickered up to hers, and he noted the curious faces watching them through the open door. He smiled gently and offered his hand. ‘Saika-san.’

She only stared at his outstretched palm, her eyes widening a fraction. It was only when someone reached through the door and pushed her forward, darting straight back into the entryway, that Sakura finally slipped her small hand into his. 

Itachi’s heart clenched in his chest. The softness of her fingers laced around his own, it felt right. It was as though she had belonged there, beside him all along, and he was only now aware of her absence all these years. 

It’s familiarity, he told himself, nothing more. 

Well… Familiarity and attraction. 

Sakura didn’t speak as they walked through Kirigakure, following the sounds of laughter and music until they reached the centre of the village. Before them, rows upon rows of stalls glowed like torches against the dark streets. The crowds were heavier than before, awash with kimonos and yukatas, children in masks running and pushing between legs. The stalls lined every side street, every pavement, every road, filled with the enticing smoke of grilled seafood and the glitter of traditional masks, sparklers, accessories and carnival games. The village was ominously devoid of mist, yet the chatter of civilians and childish squeals hid the emptiness that was left in its wake. 

They strolled through the crowds, pushing through a spectrum of clothing. Almost immediately, Itachi’s earpiece began to crackle. Voices drifted in and out of their receivers, mostly from Kiri nins who were out with their families, enjoying the festivities. All the while, Sakura continued to pretend that she was leading him between stalls, pointing at things she liked and asking him pointless questions that were only meant to fill the silence between them. 

Between them, the voices interweaved with one another, sometimes blurring into one, cutting each other off. Some voices were complaining about their children running off. Others were the familiar sounds of teachers telling their genin teams to have fun. 

A gruff voice pushed through the static, occasionally broken by white noise. 

‘I can’t believe they made us… that mission. Like, …. the hell was that about?’ 

Sakura’s fingers squeezed his. She must have heard it too. They continued walking until the voice became clearer and they were in perfect range. He felt a tug on his sleeve, and realised that Sakura was gesturing towards a stall that sold ornate wooden fans. She released his hand, making a show of browsing the fans strung up on display as they listened into the conversation. 

‘Orders from above, apparently. Nothing we can do about it.’ 

Itachi stretched out his fingers. Already, his hand felt cold in her absence. 

‘Still, I don’t like it. What the hell were we supposed to do at the border anyway?’

Sakura picked up a small, dark fan, the wooden handle engraved with intricate vines. He knew that she was only pretending to look, however he did wonder.  

‘Do you like it?’  

Sakura blinked at him. Her brow furrowed a little, then she slowly set the fan down. ‘I’m not sure the colour would suit me,’ she said. 

She gave the stall owner a brief smile and continued to browse the fans on display. Itachi looked away, regretting that he had said anything.  

Sakura was confused. And Itachi was the source of that confusion. 

That evening, right from the moment they had met, there was something about him that was newly closed off to her. She wondered whether she had done something wrong, but even when she cast her mind back, she couldn’t think of anything that she had said or done to offend him. 

Back at Mistress’s place, when she walked outside to greet him, he had stared at her. As Ino had once said, there was staring, and there was staring. And when she had walked outside the brothel to meet him, Itachi had stared at her as one would stare at a painting. He had been somewhere else, his thoughts locked away behind a closed door that she had tried so hard to break through. 

And of course, he didn’t speak. 

He had always been quiet, but this was different. He hadn’t said a single word to her all evening. She had tried to make simple conversation, pointing at things that she thought were pretty, or showing him unique items she’d found. Not a word. And when he finally spoke, it was to ask her if she liked a fan. 

Did he want to buy it for me?

No. Surely not. He was acting the part of a love interest, and Sakura knew she was naive enough to get swept along with it. 

I guess I’ve always been a sucker for romance, huh. 

She should have been listening to the voices conversing through her earpiece. She could hear them talking about their missions, yet she couldn’t focus on anything they said. She touched each of the wooden fans on the stall, inspecting them with false eagerness. But her entire body was a live wire, aware of Itachi’s presence only inches away, his clothes brushing hers, those slender fingers tapping his folded arms. 

It wasn’t such a bad thing was it? She liked him. That much was obvious, even to herself. If they were going to marry, then at least she would have that much. 

Attraction was better than nothing at all. 

Touching Itachi’s arm as she passed, she began to move through the crowds once again. Itachi followed closely behind her. Various voices flitted through her earpiece, some indistinct, some clear, some discussing the best stand for festival food, another mindlessly making small talk. Each voice broke over the others like waves crashing into a shore. One stood out above the rest. 

‘Why Konoha though? That’s what I don’t understand.’ 

Sakura stilled. She looked around, trying to locate the source of the conversation, but finding nothing. She slipped into a side street dedicated to sweet food stalls and street cafes. Itachi hovered by her side. A second voice came through. 

‘Don’t question it! And don’t even talk about it. You know what happened to Honda-san.’

‘I know, I know. Though don’t you think it’s weird that they’re putting seals on people just for talking about it?’ 

Sakura’s eyes lifted to Itachi’s. They were standing at the edge of the street, just out of the way of the main path. She wanted to stay where they were and take advantage of the perfect reception to listen in closely, but people would think they were odd, a couple standing there in silence. She looked around, hoping to find something that they could look at or do. Her eyes landed on a dango shop. Itachi had noticed it too. She gestured towards the shop, reaching into her purse. 

‘Why don’t I get us some? You stay here.’ 

She began to turn away when Itachi’s hand touched her arm. He shook his head, his mouth lifted in a soft smile that made her heart skip a beat. 

‘I’ll go. It says a lot about me if I let the woman pay.’ 

Without waiting for an answer, he crossed the street and joined the small queue leading into the dango shop. Sakura’s pulse raced at the sight of his retreating figure. She stepped back, almost bumping into a civilian family. 

Really?! What’s wrong with me! 

She was supposed to be gathering intel, goddammit! She couldn’t let Itachi with his mild flirtations distract her. Taking a deep, steady breath, she tried to focus on the voices coming through her earpiece. The voices crackled through loud and clear. 

‘Konoha won’t survive without him, you know.’  

Him? Were they talking about Fugaku?

‘Apparently they keep all the eyes. The Hokage has them locked away. Weird, right?’ 

‘That’s kind of disgusting. What does he do, just keep them for emergencies?’

Sakura frowned at the sudden switch in topic. How did they know Fugaku kept all the Sharingan of his deceased clansmen? A chill ran through her body at the thought. If they knew about the cellar of Sharingan underneath the Hokage Tower, that could only mean they had a spy. Or at least, someone had been feeding them intel. 

Does Danzo still have access to Konoha?

It was impossible, right? If he was sneaking into Konoha, he would have been discovered by now… right? 

Sakura glanced around. The streets were quickly emptying as groups of friends, families and couples began to head to the village centre for the fireworks display. Itachi still hadn’t reappeared and she couldn’t see him through the window of the dango shop. A seed of worry grew in the pit of her stomach. 

He should be back by now. He should be here. 

The voices in her ear were louder than ever. Footsteps sounded behind her, echoing in the near-deserted street. 

‘It’ll be soon, won’t it?’ 

Sakura turned, jumping at the dark figure before her, then sighing when she recognised Itachi’s familiar features — “Ichiro’s” features — half shrouded in shadow and looking at her with a strange kind of longing. He was holding a small bag in one hand, and he was tucking something away into his pocket with the other. 

‘What will?’

Sakura’s relief quickly froze over. Everything slowed, the music and laughter around them muffled as though she was underwater, listening to the world from underneath a sheet of ice. She saw Itachi processing everything, his knuckles white around the handle of the bag.

‘The invasion.’ 

There would be time. 

That was what he kept telling himself. 

There would be time to send a message out, to brief his father and warn him in advance. There would be time to head back to Konoha, leave this misty city far behind and protect their home. There would be time for him to give her the ornamental hair pin in his pocket. There would be time to brace themselves for the inevitable. 

But right now, all Itachi could do was stare out at the rippling surface of the river as it flickered with orange, green and pink under the glow of the festival. They were leaning against the railing of the bridge, Sakura beside him looking unnaturally pale under the moonlight. Formulating a plan of action, he tried to remain calm. It was his job as her captain. 

‘Don’t worry,’ he told her. ‘I’ll send a message.’ 

He had brought her to a secluded area of Kiri, away from the heat of the festival, away from anything that could cause her to panic. When he had returned to her outside the dango shop, he had found her shivering and still, her face gaunt. At that moment, he had thought she would faint. But now her cheeks had regained some of their natural colour and she seemed more steady on her feet. 

‘What if it doesn’t get there in time?’ She whispered, jaw clenched. ‘What if somebody intercepts it?’ 

We shouldn’t speak about this so openly. 

Itachi wanted to take her mind off the subject, but he wasn’t sure how. The hair pin weighed heavily in his pocket. He had bought it from a kanzashi stall next to the dango shop, drawn to the enamel cherry blossom at its crown and the pearly white beads dangling from its stamens. He had bought it in the heat of the moment, thinking only that Sakura might like it. However…

This isn’t the right time. 

Instead, he held out the paper tray of dango he had bought. It was still warm. ‘Here,’ he said. ’Take one.’  

She looked at the dango sceptically. Her eyes flickered to him, unsure, then she took a skewer. She chewed it lifelessly, all enjoyment ruined. Itachi took a skewer for himself and tried his best to enjoy the sweet, doughy texture. It felt cloying in his mouth. 

Swallowing, he asked her, ’Are you feeling okay now?’  

She nodded curtly. ‘I’m fine.’ 

Itachi didn’t really know what to do. He wasn’t very good at comforting people. He never had been. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said, although he wasn’t entirely convinced by his own words. 

She took another reluctant bite of her dango. ’You don’t know that.’ 

‘I don’t,’ he admitted. ‘But I’d like to think that they will be.’ 

She frowned deeply, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her beni smudged a little but she didn’t seem to care as she wiped the lipstick off completely. 

‘I’m not you,’ she said. ‘I can’t think like that.’ 

Finishing his dango, Itachi placed the bare skewer back into the bag. He held the bag out for Sakura to do the same. Across from them, on the other side of the river, people were beginning to gather around, waiting for the inevitable firework display. Sakura was staring glumly into the water, oblivious to the waiting crowds. 

When the first firework flew into the air with a whistle, Sakura became very still. She watched the water’s surface, eyes trained on the explosion of bright colours darting over the black ripples.

‘You like fireworks,’ Itachi mused.  

She lifted her head, looking up as violet and green darted across the sky above them, fizzling out with pops and bangs. 

‘Actually, I used to hate them.’ 

‘Why?’ 

‘I was always scared that they would fall out of the sky and burn me,’ she said. ‘I didn’t like the noise either. I used to cover my ears with my hands until they stopped. It became worse after the coup.’ 

Itachi watched her closely, committing every detail of this moment to memory. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to remember this; he should have been more worried about his village. 

There will be time. 

Sakura was engrossed in the firework display, the colours shining against her skin, her hair. And he realised that this was no act. This was truly Sakura he was looking at, not “Saika” or any other mask she wore. All pretence had been whittled away, and this was her, vulnerable at her core. 

‘Are you still scared?’ He asked. 

She looked at him then, and her expression was one he would never forget. He saw  relief, confusion, openness, fear, all painted across her face. There was nothing quite like it, and he knew right there and then that he wanted to kiss her. Not as “Ichiro”, or even as Uchiha Itachi, but as himself. 

As Itachi. 

He leaned in, hesitating a little as he gauged her reaction. Her hand slid along the railing until it found his, and Itachi knew that he wasn’t alone in this feeling, whatever it was. She moved closer, allowing her forehead to rest against his own. There was a few painful inches between them. Itachi yearned to close the gap, but she held him there. 

‘I’m not scared anymore,’ he heard her whisper, before their lips met.

Itachi’s mind emptied. There would be time for everything else, as nothing else mattered except this moment. Not the fireworks, not Konoha, not his father, not even Takeshi. His hand came up to lightly cradle her jaw, and he could feel her hand fisting the fabric of his kimono. 

And then too soon, it ended. She pulled away, but her hand was still furrowed in his clothes, holding him close. The firework display had finished, leaving them in semi-darkness.

‘Sak—,’ he said, realising his slip of the tongue. ‘Saika.’ 

Her face changed, lips parting. There was a flash of hurt, and Itachi knew he had ruined it. Within less than a second, he had ruined everything. Feeling her grip slacken, he reached for his pocket, knowing that a hair pin wouldn’t fix things but he didn’t know how else to try. However, at that same moment, their earpieces buzzed. A slow, proud voice crept through the static. 

‘Looks like we’ve been infiltrated.’ 

Itachi’s thoughts slowed to a halt. 

‘According to intel, it seems a couple of Konoha shinobi have been wandering around with earpieces,’ the voice said. 

Sakura’s breath hitched.

‘In fact, they’re listening to us right now.’ 

Chapter Text

There were several moments in Sakura’s life where she had felt time stand still. 

The ringing silence after the blast that tore through her childhood home, and the sight of her father’s charred corpse, all twisted limbs and chunks of flesh. Then there was her first mission in the Land of Waves. The sinking in her gut after noticing the senbon glinting across every square inch of Sasuke’s body. And of course, the uncomfortable quiet of the old Uchiha training grounds, when Itachi had asked her to marry him. 

But now… 

Now, it was like the ground had split open beneath her feet and no matter how hard she tried, there was no ledge or handle for her to grasp onto. Her eyes zeroed in on Itachi’s lips. He mouthed words without uttering a sound. 

‘We need to leave. Now.’ 

A hand wrapped around her wrist. She felt herself being tugged along like a balloon behind him. Her body was light. Empty. Not because they had been caught on their mission, although that thought terrified her, but because of a different reason entirely. 

It was that name. 

The name that had almost become synonymous with her own. A name she had answered to for several weeks now, as though the other girl was a shadow of her own person — unfamiliar as a stranger, yet attached to her forever. 

‘Sak— Saika.’

Was it not real? Was none of it real? A cold whisper breezed through her mind. She felt like such an idiot. Their lives were at stake here, and all she could think about was her own pathetic feelings. 

Stupid girl.  

Suddenly, Itachi’s face was in front of her. He was studying her blankly. ‘What is it? Do you sense something?’ 

It took her a moment to realise what he had asked. ‘No. I don’t sense anything.’ 

He glanced around, scanning the rows of trees and festival lanterns behind them. He brought his hands up to her shoulders and looked at her seriously. ‘If we’re going to leave safely, then I need you to wake up. Do you understand?’

‘Sorry… I just.’

There was no need for him to explain. In her dreamlike daze, she was forgetting that she was first and foremost a kunoichi. She couldn’t be lost in her thoughts at a time like this. 

‘Whatever’s bothering you, we can talk about it afterwards,’ he said. ‘Right now, we have to leave as inconspicuously as possible.’ 

‘Right.’ 

Sakura barely registered the town square emerging into view, the music swelling emptily as they reached the heart of the festival once more. She paid no mind to the shoulders of strangers barging into her, the shrill cries of children. It was a maze of lights and colours all blurring into one kaleidoscope as Itachi pulled her behind him. She watched his back, staring at the exact spot between her shoulder blades as if expecting an uchiwa fan to appear at any moment. 

“Saika” was gone. She was nothing more than a cloak that Sakura could hang up in a closet, a persona she would never wear again. And as for Itachi… well, their false relationship would come to an end too. They would go back to stiff smiles, awkwardness and politics. A sham of an engagement.  

Sakura wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

As she walked behind him, her hand in his, she became aware of the fact that he was steering them in the direction of the docks.

No… Wait! 

She dug her heels in, forcing him to look back at her.  

‘What is it?’ he asked. 

‘I need to find Hitomi,’ Sakura said. 

His brows furrowed. ‘We don’t have time for that.’ 

‘I promised her,’ she insisted. ‘I said I’d help her leave.’ 

Itachi’s face became drawn as a shinobi passed by them, chakra surging. Sakura tried to pull her hand free but his fingers tightened around hers. 

‘She’s a civilian,’ he said under his breath. ‘I won’t allow it.’ 

The implication was clear; Hitomi would slow them down significantly. And if there was a pursuit? 

She could get hurt. 

But Sakura had made a promise. It was unprofessional, and it could compromise them horrifically, but she couldn’t abandon someone so easily. It just wasn’t in her nature. 

‘If you’re worried I can meet you on the mainland.’  

His eyes lifted, subtly scanning the area. ‘No,’ he said sternly. ’We’re leaving. That’s an order.’ 

Sakura yanked her hand free, earning several strange looks from passersby. ‘I’m not going without her.’ 

Itachi’s eyes sharpened like cold, hard steel. He was angry with her. Oh boy was he angry at her. It was radiating off him in waves, but Sakura didn’t care. She turned on her heel when his hand grabbed hers once more. It took her a second to notice that he wasn’t pulling her in the other direction. In fact, he was joining her. Sakura looked at him inquisitively, but his face gave away nothing. She didn’t dare to question it.

Together, they sped through the narrow streets that led back to the brothel. As the familiar entrance came into view, Sakura left Itachi outside and shoved open the doors, startling a few patrons as she did so. Her eyes roamed the crowded room. Hitomi was sitting in a booth, entertaining a man and a woman with small talk. Sakura strode over, causing Hitomi to start when she appeared by the table. 

‘Saika? What’s going on? I thought you were at the festival!’ 

Sakura pulled at the other girl’s elbow, shaking her head. ‘We’re getting out of this place.’ 

Hitomi stumbled to her feet, shooting apologetic looks at the baffled customers. ‘Wait. What are you—?’ 

‘Come on!’ 

Sakura dragged the other girl through the bar, shoving past some disgruntled clients as she did so. Hitomi was looking around, waiting for someone to intervene, but nobody did. They were far too intoxicated to notice. 

‘What about Mistress?’ Hitomi asked. ’I know we talked about it but we can’t just up and leave.’ 

Sakura swung around, taking the girl by her shoulders. ‘I promised you, didn’t I? If we leave, we leave together. So let’s go, right now.’ 

‘But…’ Hitomi’s fear was evident. ‘How? We can’t.’ 

‘Please,’ Sakura said. ‘Just trust me.’ 

‘Where would we go?’ 

‘Fire country,’ Sakura replied quickly. ‘Anywhere but here.’ 

Hitomi looked at her, uncertainty written all over her face. She glanced once over her shoulder, then nodded. ‘Fine. I’ll go with you.’ 

Sakura wasted no time in ushering the girl out the door. Itachi stepped out of the shadows of the entrance, looking more pensive than ever. He acknowledged Hitomi’s presence, then looked at Sakura with something that was too subtle to be apprehension. 

‘Oh,’ Hitomi noticed him waiting. ‘Ichiro-san, you’re here too.’ 

‘We’re leaving with him,’ Sakura said, taking Hitomi’s hand as the three of them moved swiftly through Kiri’s weathered backstreets. ‘We’re heading for the docks.’ 

Itachi and Sakura moved quickly, forcing Hitomi to try and match their brisk pace. Sakura kept her wits about her, glancing around to check for anyone on their tail. So far, she couldn’t sense any shinobi in their vicinity. Perhaps they had yet to realise exactly who had infiltrated Kiri, just that it was two Konoha ninja. 

Behind her, Hitomi’s shoe caught in an uneven cobble. She slipped a little, letting out a small cry. Sakura’s body moved instinctively, whirling around to grab her friend’s forearm. She realised only a second too late that her movements had been far too smooth to be that of a civilian. 

For a long pause, the two girls simply looked at one another. 

‘You’re…’ Hitomi mouthed the words with disbelief. ‘You’re a shi—‘ 

Sakura clamped her palm over Hitomi’s mouth, and she tried to ignore the pang of guilt that flooded her chest. All this time she had been lying, feeding Hitomi false hopes and shared experiences. 

But she had never once lied about their friendship. 

‘They might be watching,’ Sakura tried to explain. 

Her voice was barely a whisper, but this only seemed to scare the other girl more. Hitomi’s eyes were glazed with unshed tears. 

‘Hitomi you…’ Sakura gritted her teeth. ‘You have to believe me. No matter what happens here, I’m on your side. That’s the truth. Please, you have to believe that.’ 

Hitomi’s eyes searched hers, trying to weigh up whether or not to trust her. Sakura needed this. She needed Hitomi to co-operate, otherwise getting out of Kiri undetected would be far messier than it needed to be. 

‘Sakura.’ 

Itachi’s voice startled her a little. And then it sunk in — he had used her real name. He was looking around at the rooftops, his eyes slowly bleeding red. ‘They’ve found us.’ 

The ocean blurred into a dark, shimmering mass as Sakura swept across its surface. Occasionally her feet splashed messily as she tried to keep up with Itachi’s pace in her geta sandals. It was even trickier with Hitomi’s unconscious weight slumped over her shoulders. Itachi was across from her, only slightly ahead, a silhouette against the black horizon. He didn’t speak, yet his orders were clear. 

Run. 

There was no time to wait for a boat at the docks, so crossing the mass of water on foot was their only escape. Itachi had steered them away from the Land of Tea and was heading south. Sakura knew what he planned without needing to ask. If they crossed directly into Land of Fire territory, Kiri would have no business attacking them unless they wanted to start a war. 

But that didn’t seem to dissuade the squad of Kiri nin hot on their tail — S-class, if their chakra signatures were anything to go by. 

Squinting in the distance, she could make out a thin strip of land, grey against the sky. It would be a close call. Running at full speed was a no-go. Sakura had to be mindful of accidentally throwing Hitomi around and potentially waking her from the genjutsu Itachi had placed her under. He had even slowed down to ensure she didn’t get left behind. 

The foreign chakra signatures were closing in fast. A little too fast for Sakura’s liking. She didn’t dare look back. Tightening her grip on Hitomi’s legs, she stared furiously at the vague shape of a treeline in the distance, willing it to appear in front of her. 

A light flared in the ocean’s surface. 

Sakura shifted to the left, narrowly avoiding the water bullets that now dissolved into sea spray. If she used the reflection in the water, perhaps she could predict the trajectory of the attacks. 

Another flare. 

She twisted, angling away to dodge another round of bullets. However, they barely even grazed her. The jutsu should have made contact. Especially if this was an experienced squad behind them. 

Was Kiri quite so weak? 

No.

Gritting her teeth, she realised that Itachi had been subjected to the same attack, and had moved further away, almost disappearing into the night. 

They’re splitting us up. 

The treeline finally came into view, and Sakura’s feet met jagged rocks as she carried Hitomi’s weight up the craggy hill of the shoreline before the thick trees enveloped them. They were finally in the Land of Fire. Home territory. 

Surprisingly, this didn’t seem to stop their pursuers. The chakra signatures spread out, and one by one vanished into the darkness of the forest. Sakura sprinted on for several minutes, before slowing. Frantically, she glanced around. 

Itachi was nowhere to be seen. 

A cold gust of wind shivered through the thick forest. The rustles of foliage encircled her, obscuring all sounds of life. Sakura kept her eyes trained on the treeline, even as she gently laid Hitomi’s unconscious body against the trunk of a large oak. She waited for a sight… a sound. Anything. 

Her heart was frantic. Racing. She panted, turning this way and that. A terrible feeling scuttled over her, as though many eyes were tracking her every move. It settled deep into her gut, this awful paranoia that cut through the darkness and set every one of her nerves on end. 

A crunch — directly behind her. 

Sakura spun, raising her fist. There was nobody there. 

Where the hell is Itachi? 

The wind flew from her lungs as Sakura’s body was propelled through the air. She was weightless, then her back met the bruising impact of a tree trunk. She sank to the exposed roots, breathless and coughing. The blow had struck seemingly from nowhere, but as she blearily raised her head, she could finally see the outline of her enemy. 

The figure flickered. 

Sakura dodged as the nin’s hand splintered into the tree trunk, sending shards of bark across the forest floor. They paused, and Sakura took advantage of the opening to throw a chakra infused fist into their chest. The nin was blasted backwards into the trees. 

However, the victory was short lived as a twig snapped behind her. Sakura turned. There were seven dark figures, their faces masked by standard Kiri uniform. She was surrounded. 

‘This is the Land of Fire,’ she said firmly. ‘Do you really think you should be on enemy territory right now?’ 

They didn’t respond. Nor did they move. That was, until a jet of water sprung at her from the right. Sakura leapt across the ground to avoid the spray. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the figures had disappeared. 

Something moved to her left. 

There! 11 O’Clock. 

She grabbed the uniform of an enemy nin, dragging him closer before head-butting him as hard as she could. The nin stumbled backwards, and Sakura kicked him squarely in the ribs, sending him toppling to the ground, clutching his chest.

Already, she could sense another behind her, hearing the metal scrape of his chokuto as he prepared to plunge it into her chest. She brought her hands up into a seal, substituting herself with a large piece of broken tree, disappearing as his chokuto sliced through smoke. Sakura reappeared behind him, slamming her boot into his head and knocking him unconscious. 

That’s three down. Four more to go.  

She reached down and pried the chokuto from the nin’s limp fingers. She barely had time to adjust her grip, before a fist slammed into her back.  

Huh? 

She hadn’t sensed him. 

Spinning on her heel, Sakura raised her fist to strike, expecting to see an enemy nin behind her. Her fist met with air. 

This one’s sneaky, hm?

Panting heavily, Sakura caught her breath. Her eyes scanned through the dark mass of trees, searching for any sign of movement, any sign of human life. But there was nothing.

Whoever this was probably had a Kekkai Genkai akin to invisibility. Or they were simply an expert at masking their chakra. Either way, she couldn—

Something crashed into her head, sending her stumbling against a tree. A throbbing pain swept over her forehead. She cracked her eyes open and tried to stand, but before she could retaliate a wave of chakra hit her, swiping the air from her lungs. Something cracked deep in her ribs, and she wheezed, frantically trying to find the source of the foreign blows. From the corner of her eye, she saw the orange glow of a fireball jutsu over the treeline.

Itachi’s still fighting.

The brief distraction cost her, and a sharp blast of chakra knocked her onto the forest floor. All she could do was clutch at twigs and damp leaves in the mud as her head swam with nausea. Her limbs felt as though they were made of lead. Every breath dragged painfully. Those waves of chakra… Whatever jutsu the nin had used, it had rendered her useless. 

The night sky shone through the canopy of trees, but the faint moonlight was cut off by a dark silhouette standing above her. 

I suppose this is it. 

The nin tilted their head, as if contemplating something. Their hand reached forward, and Sakura only glimpsed the metallic sheen of a blade hovering above her chest, before the nin disappeared from view.  

All at once, the earth shook with a tremendous earth-splitting crash, and all Sakura could do was watch as a new figure pummelled the enemy nin into the dirt. There was a flash of green, a billow of red, and a familiar chakra signature that burned like a beacon in the cold forest. 

The ache in Sakura’s temple grew stronger and stronger, pulsing as her vision started to blur. The trees seemed to grow taller, the dark encroaching as her saviour slowly turned in her direction. She uttered a single word, before the darkness of the forest pulled her into its depths. 

‘Shishou.’ 

Chapter Text

Pain.

A twisting, gnawing, poisonous ache that spread from her collarbones to her shins every time she took a breath. The pain was the first thing Sakura became aware of. It was hard to think of anything else as she floated in the ether of her unconscious mind, drifting between memories of her mother’s cooking, squabbling with Ino, chakra training with Team 7, Itachi’s proposal in the old Uchiha training grounds. 

Itachi. 

The mission. The pursuit. The battle. 

Sakura’s eyes shot open, only to squint as sunlight overwhelmed her senses. 

‘Don’t worry,’ a familiar voice said. ‘You’ve been asleep for two days. Your eyes need some time to adjust.’ 

Gentle hands tugged at something draped over her. A soft blanket. That was the second thing Sakura became aware of — the fact that she seemed to be lying on a futon. Slowly, she opened her eyes further, making out the dusty wooden beams of a cabin ceiling sloping down until they met a pair of old windows. Across the room from where she lay, a small fire was crackling in the hearth, and in the corner next to it stood a round table and two chairs. One of the windows was open, causing the warmth of the cabin to occasionally flash with a cold breeze as the scent of sap and oak reached her from the fire. 

A person shifted beside her, and Sakura turned her head a little, recognising a face she hadn’t seen in nearly ten years. 

‘Shizune.’ 

Shizune smiled softly. ‘Long time no see.’ 

Something smooth and velvety, and very much alive, nuzzled into her blanket. A curly pink tail protruded out from under the cover. 

‘It’s good to see you too, Tonton,’ she added, earning a snort of joy from the little pig. 

Sakura tried to sit up, only to gasp as her ribs protested against the movement. Shizune guided her back down. ‘Save your energy. You were in a terrible state when Tsunade-sama found you in the forest. Broken ribs, lacerated temple… your femur was bruised too. Everything’s healed now of course, but it’ll take a while for the soreness to go.’  

‘Tsunade-shishou,’ Sakura insisted. ‘How is she? How did she find me?’

‘You’ll be able to ask her yourself soon enough. She’s out getting firewood at the moment.’ 

Sakura’s mind was swimming, replaying the events of her battle two nights ago. She remembered the blow to her temple, and the final kiri nin hovering over her with a blade. But there was something — or someone — she had forgotten about.  

‘There was a girl with me,’ Sakura said. ‘She was unconscious. A civilian, but she was a friend of mine.’ 

‘Ah,’ Shizune nodded. ‘You mean Hitomi-chan, right? You’ll be glad to know she’s fine. A little confused about your true identity, I admit. It seems you used a very convincing henge, but she’ll be okay. She’s out helping Tsunade at the moment.’ 

‘She’s unhurt though, right? She wasn’t injured?’ 

Shizune didn’t answer, but looked up towards the cabin door. 

A thump sounded from across the room as the door was flung open. Thick branches balanced over one shoulder, Tsunade stood like a goddess in the entrance. She was just as Sakura remembered with her green cloak, immaculately painted toenails, blonde hair slightly tousled by wind. Behind her, Hitomi was nervously holding a stack of smaller branches. She looked at Sakura with caution. 

Tsunade didn’t seem to hold the same reservations. ‘It’s about time you woke up,’ she said, stepping inside. ‘You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.’ 

‘You tracked me down,’ Sakura surmised, because how else would Tsunade have found her in time? There was no way Tsunade just happened to be there and stumbled upon the battle by accident. 

‘I did.’ Tsunade stacked the branches against the cabin wall and plonked herself in one of the chairs. ‘We were in the Land of Tea for a little while. We were travelling along the border last night when I sensed your chakra. It seems Konoha is having trouble with Kirigakure.’ 

‘You could say that,’ Sakura said with a grimace. She refrained from saying any more about the topic. Even if she trusted Tsunade, she couldn’t spill mission details. There was a silence, and Shizune got to her feet, scooping up Tonton. 

‘Excuse me,’ she said, glancing between Sakura, Tsunade and Hitomi. ‘I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.’ 

Sakura didn’t want Shizune to leave at all. Her presence was soothing, whereas Tsunade could be as brash as sandpaper when she wanted to be. As if to prove Sakura’s feelings correct, Tsunade began to take thick branches from her stack, snapping them into chunks for the fire as easily as breaking breadsticks. Shizune announced that she would head into the village nearby and would wait for Hitomi outside. She quietly left the cabin, Tonton behind her. Hitomi, however, kneeled next to Sakura’s futon.

‘I… I’m sorry,’ Sakura muttered, unable to meet the girl’s eyes. ‘Even if I didn’t have a choice because of my mission, I know I lied to you about who I am.’ 

I understand if you’re angry. 

Hitomi hummed a little. Despite a slight hesitation, she didn’t seem particularly upset. ‘You kept your promise though. You got us out of there.’ 

Sakura didn’t know what to say, but she reached a hand out from under the futon and wrapped it around Hitomi’s small fingers. ‘I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.’

Hitomi’s hand squeezed hers in response. ‘Thanks to you I’ll be able to start a new life. Shizune-san and Tsunade-sama said they’d teach me how to heal. I’m not a ninja, but I can learn about nursing and I can be of assistance.’ 

Sakura glanced over at Tsunade who paused in breaking a branch to nod simply, a confirmation that she would, indeed, take on Hitomi as an apprentice of sorts. Her friend’s life was changing for the better, and Sakura was so glad she could be a part of that process. 

‘I’m so happy for you,’ she said. ‘It’ll be a clean slate.’ 

Hitomi beamed at her, and released her hand. ‘Thank you, Sakura-chan, for everything.’ She got to her feet and inspected the tattered dress she was still wearing after her shift at the bar. ‘I’m going to join Shizune-san, and hopefully get some proper clothes. It sounds crazy but I can’t wait to wear anything other than tiny dresses!’

Sakura completely understood. Just like her, Hitomi had left all of her belongings back in Kiri. ’I think after everything, a new wardrobe is long overdue.’ 

‘Next time you see me, I’ll look like a new person.’ She grinned at Sakura and gave a little wave before joining Shizune outside. 

Now it was just her and Tsunade. Her old mentor. The woman she admired, a wild card at heart, and more recently, her beloved rescuer. Neither of them spoke for a good while, and all that could be heard was the beat of Sakura’s heart and regular thud of broken branches being dropped into a bucket by the hearth. 

‘It’s kind of you to do that for a civilian like her,’ Tsunade said at last. ‘Girls like her usually end up drifting without a home.’ 

‘I couldn’t leave her,’ Sakura replied simply. ‘I know it slowed us down, but I couldn’t do it.’ 

‘You were on an infiltration mission. Kiri must be gearing up for an attack on Konoha.’ 

Sakura would never not be amazed by Tsunade’s deductive skills. However she could neither confirm nor deny Tsunade’s theory. Not after… Memories came flooding back incoherently. Screaming, bloodied ropes, a Sharingan twisted into a pinwheel. 

‘I—I can’t really talk about it.’ 

‘I understand. I heard all about what they did to my student. And to my village. Bastards.’ The last word was uttered quietly as she crushed a branch into splinters with one hand. 

Sakura couldn’t begin to understand how her old mentor felt, especially about the Uchiha clan, but there was something else she had to ask. An issue she couldn’t just ignore. ‘When you found me last night, did you find my mission partner?’ 

Tsunade continued to break the branches into pieces, placing them into the bucket. ‘There was another fight not too far away.’

‘That was Itachi’s fight.’

Tsunade stilled, branch in one hand. ‘Fugaku’s brat… So that’s who I could sense.’ 

Sakura sat up suddenly, wincing as her ribs ached. ‘You sensed him too? Where is he?’ 

‘I don’t know. His chakra signature disappeared all of a sudden.’ 

Sakura stared at the blanket pooled in her lap, overwhelmed by fears of what could have happened. 

Chakra doesn’t just disappear, unless… 

No. That couldn’t be. Itachi was far too strong. He was legendary in Konoha for his mastery of the Sharingan, strategic intelligence, and his technical prowess. The only logical conclusion was that they had captured him and placed him in chakra restraints. But how could someone take Itachi down so easily? He never missed a beat, was never distracted, noticed every move, every trick. 

A memory of the battle screamed at the back of her mind. The vivid orange glow of a fireball jutsu searing the treeline above. Her own words of advice drifted into the forefront. 

‘Try not to use any fire techniques, or any other techniques that include your lungs. At least not until we get back to the village… there’s a risk that a blood vessel in your lung could split.’

He hadn’t listened to her. He must have been distracted by his lungs, and they seized the opportunity. Either that, or he purposely allowed himself to be captured to gain further information. And if he did, that was definitely not part of any plan they had concocted.

Dammit Itachi!

From where she was sitting on the futon, Sakura couldn’t see much of outside the windows. But the low branches she could see swaying in the breeze were dry and fresh. It hadn’t rained last night. That meant any traces of Itachi’s fight would still be there. 

Holding back a groan, she heaved herself up to her feet, albeit unsteadily. She was still wearing the same red yukata with embroidered blossoms from the festival, though it was scuffed in places. Her geta sandals had been placed neatly at the end of the futon. There had been no time to run up to Saika’s room at Mistress’ place and grab the scroll that contained her pack. Unfortunately, that also meant Itachi was in a similar state. She would have to make do and venture out as she was. 

Well, at least I’ve got my fists and my strength. 

From the other side of the cabin, Tsunade looked at her with disapproval. ‘You’re supposed to be resting, Sakura.’ 

‘What I’m supposed to do is find Itachi.’ 

There was an audible hiss. ‘He’s an Uchiha.’ 

‘He’s my partner.’ 

In more ways than one. But she wouldn’t tell Tsunade about that just yet. She still didn’t know how Itachi felt. All she knew was that during the mission, her body burned for his. She yearned for his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his touch. She hadn’t even realised just how much she craved his affection until he kissed her so gently and called her by that name. 

‘Sak—Saika.’ 

It was the wrong name. 

That name wasn’t her. He hadn’t been kissing her, but Saika. And that hurt. It hurt more than she had ever expected. But it didn’t change the fact that she needed him back by her side. Safe. 

‘He works for his father,’ Tsunade said, breaking Sakura out of her thoughts. 

‘Actually, Itachi’s philosophy goes directly against his father's. He’s a pacifist, Shishou. Really.’ 

‘Oh? According to whom?’ 

Sakura straightened her rumpled yukata and skipped on her geta sandals. ’He told me himself, and so far he’s kept to his word. You can try and stop me but I’m not going to abandon him.’ 

Sakura walked towards the door, ignoring the heavy atmosphere between the two of them. When she grasped the door handle, she heard Tsunade chuckle. It held a bitter note. 

‘I refuse to help you, but I can’t stop you from having a mind of your own. You’re my pupil, naturally. However, I also can’t let you venture out unarmed, especially when you’re dressed like that.’ Tsunade reached into her belt and pulled out a kunai and several Senbon, giving them to Sakura who expertly tucked them within her obi. 

‘Thank you Shishou,’ Sakura said. ‘I’ll bring him back in one piece.’ 

‘Worry about yourself more,’ Tsunade muttered, as Sakura left the cabin with newfound determination. 

Water dripped from the ceiling of Itachi’s cell, splashing against the back of his neck. Some gathered on the icy floor near his feet. The room was pure darkness. Or at least, it seemed that way to him. The blindfold around his head was pulled a little too taut for comfort, and kept all light at bay. 

With chakra restraints keeping his reserves to an absolute minimum — and reinforced chains tying him to a wall — he had no choice but to fall back on his other senses. It was cold, the air had a damp odour, and from the silence he concluded that he was the only occupant of the cell. 

He was still wearing the dark yukata from the festival, and the emptiness of his pocket told him that the ornamental hair pin had disappeared. He never did manage to give it to Sakura. 

His lungs felt tight and tender, and dried blood cracked around his mouth every time he moved his lips. During the battle, he’d coughed up a disproportionate amount of blood, so much so that he could still taste the metallic tang. A dull throbbing emanated from his crown and the backs of his ankles — someone must have cut his achilles tendons. A medical shinobi it seemed, as there was no open wound that he could feel. They clearly didn’t want him running any time soon. 

All because of one mistake. 

Well, three. 

Three fireballs and a lungful of blood. He couldn’t fault their opportunism. With his condition progressing as such a rate, his stamina wasn’t as it used to be. 

But hope wasn’t lost. Not at all. All he had to do was bide his time and pay close attention to the routines of the guards, which voices belonged to whom, the timings of interrogations. They may have cut off his chakra and tied a blindfold across his eyes, but he had other methods of escaping. 

They really should have known better. 

But killing some time could prove interesting. After all, he was equally as opportunistic. Sakura would be retracing their steps by now, and whilst he didn’t like to keep her waiting, this was a prime chance to gain further information that they didn’t have prior access to. 

Very well… I think I’ll wait a little longer. 

Locating her own battleground was simple enough. All she had to do was follow the traces of her own chakra until the forest opened up into a familiar grove of trees. It looked different in daylight, yet the damage was evident.

She traced her fingers over the cracked bark of the trunk that had broken her fall. Traces of her own blood spotted some of the dead leaves by the roots. Looking around at the grove, she could still remember where the bodies of the Kiri nin had been lying. However, they were now missing. 

Somebody must have come back to clean them up.

Sakura looked up towards the east where she had initially seen the fireball radiating over the treeline, and sped through the trees in the direction of Itachi’s battleground. 

It was unmistakable. There was no doubt that Itachi had been here. The forest opened up to reveal scorch marks across the ground, burned foliage, ash and smut drifting through the breeze. And blood. Lots of blood. She could smell it. 

Her eyes zeroed in on a patch of earth that was darker than the surrounding area. She knelt down and swiped two fingers across the damp soil, tinged with red. 

Her eyes welled up. She clenched her bloodied fingers into a fist. It was his. It had to be. Her instincts had been correct. Judging by the fire damage to the surrounding trees, Itachi had torched the whole area before his lungs caved in. 

Why didn’t you listen to me, you stubborn idiot!

Stupid man. She’d have to give him a piece of her mind when she found him. And find him she would. 

Although Tsunade had been right, and all traces of Itachi’s chakra signature had disappeared, she spied a bloodied footprint on the bough of a tree up ahead. Further on lay a trail of snapped branches.

North east. 

They took him not back to Kirigakure, but deeper into Fire Country. How interesting. And all Sakura had to do was follow their bloody footsteps. 

I’m coming, Itachi. 

Even with the pitiful chakra he was left with, Itachi’s well-trained ears listened in on the muffled voices outside his cell. It seemed the Mizukage had been missing for months. They were taking orders from someone else — possibly Danzo? Itachi couldn’t be certain. And wherever he was currently being held prisoner, it wasn’t in the Land of Water. 

They often talked about him. What to do with him, which questions to ask, how to go about retrieving their information. Itachi wouldn’t break easily. He’d been made to suffer intense interrogation and torture before. When he became a shinobi he’d sworn an oath to dedicate his body and soul to his village. It was what he was trained for. 

The door to his cell opened with a steel screech.Two sets of footsteps shuffled inside. There was a moment of deadly quiet, then a voice spoke. 

‘State your name.’

Itachi remained silent. 

‘State your name.’ 

He pressed his lips together. 

‘I said —‘ something sharp and cold jabbed into his side ‘—state your name.’ 

Itachi grunted as the item, presumably a kunai, cut deeply into his flesh. He refused to answer, even as the door creaked open once more and a new set of footsteps sounded from the cell entrance.

‘His name is Uchiha Itachi, first born son and heir of the Hokage, Uchiha Fugaku.’ 

Recognition struck him deep in his gut. The chakra signature was familiar. He had heard this voice numerous times before, yet it was rather incredible how different it sounded, as though a mask had peeled away to reveal something bare. Emotionless. 

For the first time, Itachi responded. 

‘It’s good to see you, Takeshi-san.’

Takeshi must have given a silent order for his comrades to leave, as Itachi heard the echo of steps before the door to his cell closed, leaving just the two of them. 

‘An interesting choice, to shut yourself in the same room as me,’ Itachi mused. 

‘An interesting choice to infiltrate Kirigakure dressed up as a merchant and his whore.’ 

Internally, Itachi bristled a little at the comment, although he couldn’t let Takeshi catch any hint of this. He peered through the blindfold, trying to make out the other man’s face to see if he wore any trace of the jovial, carefree soldier he had once presented himself as. 

‘Tell me,’ Takeshi asked, ‘what is your comrade’s name?’ 

‘Saika,’ Itachi replied. 

‘Her real name.’

‘Saika.’ 

Takeshi clicked his tongue. Itachi waited for a reply, but none came. 

All at once, every muscle in his body contracted in blinding, white hot pain as electricity pulsed through his system. His jaw instinctively clenched, breath halted as he found himself unable to breathe. His fists squeezed, knuckles pale, in an attempt to clutch at something. Anything. 

And just at quickly as it came, the current stopped. As if the electricity had triggered his illness, he couldn’t hold down the blood that suddenly expelled from his lungs. He coughed and coughed, blood and saliva dripping from his lips. The fit eventually passed, and Itachi stood, panting and covered in a cold sweat. 

‘You’re sick,’ Takeshi observed. ‘I suppose that’s useful to note.’ 

‘And you’re a lightning type,’ Itachi said between coughs. He cleared his throat, trying to catch his bearings. He rattled one of the chains binding his wrist. ‘Let me guess, your chakra feeds through these chains.’ 

‘Correct,’ Takeshi said, then he huffed, as though bored by the whole process. ‘Let’s save ourselves some time. I’ll ask again. What is your partner’s name?’ 

Itachi followed the sound of his footsteps as Takeshi presumably settled himself against the wall of the cell. 

‘Who are you taking orders from?’ Itachi asked. 

‘Orders?’

‘I know you’re not taking orders from the Mizukage. So who gave you the order to torture me?’ 

For the first time, Takeshi sounded mildly surprised. ‘I wasn’t given an order to torture you.’ 

‘If you’re not being forced to go to these lengths, I can only assume you garner some form of enjoyment out of this.’ 

‘Forced… enjoyment…’ Takeshi seemed to mull over Itachi’s words as though they were foreign to his tongue. ‘I think you’ve let your imagination run away with you. I neither enjoy it nor hate it, and I’ve certainly not been forced into anything.’ Takeshi’s voice lowered to a sigh. ‘I just simply don’t care.’ 

With those final words, Itachi’s body convulsed under a new wave of electricity. 

Chapter Text

‘I’m waiting, Itachi-san. And I’m not a patient man.’ Takeshi twisted the kunai in Itachi’s thigh, gouging a hole into his flesh. ‘We need the code for the vault.’ 

Itachi clenched his teeth together, unable to move away; the small bench he was sitting on was built into the wall, the chains binding his wrists and ankles. ’You won’t find the vault, let alone have access to the code.’ 

‘We’ll see about that. Time will tell.’ 

The kunai was suddenly yanked out of Itachi’s thigh, leaving a trail of blood trickling down to his knee. He hissed at the sensation. 

It was tempting, oh so tempting, to call off his original plan and silence Takeshi altogether. However, with every question asked of him, Itachi was growing closer to understanding Kiri’s goals. 

Just a little longer, he reminded himself. 

Just a little longer and he’d be able to learn more of the Mizukake’s whereabouts. So far, he had learned that whoever was currently in control of Kirigakure was after the vault of Sharingan in the basement of the Hokage Tower, which made sense if Danzo was the one pulling the strings. All he needed to know was the finer details of when the invasion would occur. That way, Konoha could be prepared to put up an adequate defence. 

All he had to do was remain patient. 

However, Itachi’s patience began to thin when Takeshi tried a new approach to the interrogation. 

‘I remember your mission partner quite well.’ There was a rustle as he presumably pulled something out of his pocket. Itachi had a feeling he already knew what it was. ‘This must have been for her.’ 

The hairpin. 

‘She’s a fascinating creature, you know. Especially when it comes to her choice of seduction,’ Takeshi said. ‘You know she seduced me once. She’s very… flexible.’ 

Of course it wasn’t true. Sakura hadn’t slept with any of the men in the bar. She had simply used a genjutsu as per their agreed plan. But there was a little part of him that stung with irritation at the implication behind those words. 

‘Did she tell you that she likes to be used?’ 

Itachi felt the cold, metal edge of the hairpin slide along his collarbone, lingering dangerously close to his jugular. Takeshi’s presence hovered in front of him, whispering into his ear. 

‘Did she tell you that she likes to be tied down and fucked until she cries?’ 

Something inside of him snapped, and Itachi rammed his head into the other man’s jaw, swiftly kicking him in the knees as Takeshi fell back a few steps. Itachi would have kicked much harder if not for the chains that restricted his movement to just a couple of feet. 

‘You will not disrespect my comrade that way,’ he stated darkly.  

There was a deep thud, followed by the clatter of metal against stone as the hairpin fell to the ground. A grunt of pain sounded from several feet away. 

Good. The man deserved it.

‘Well, it seems I’ve touched a nerve there,’ Takeshi said, shuffling as he rose to his feet. ‘But no matter. Seduction or not, it was obvious she was a kunoichi.’ 

‘What gave it away?’ 

‘The night she defended herself against the attacker. She used chakra. No civilian could have done the same.’ 

So he did see. 

‘You tailed her,’ Itachi concluded. 

‘Of course. Her affections were just an added bonus.’ 

All along, Itachi’s suspicions were correct. Takeshi must have clocked on immediately and taken it upon himself to investigate. It explained why he was haunting the brothel without actually paying for any custom. However, whilst this information certainly enlightened some of Takeshi’s previous behaviour, it wasn’t what Itachi wanted to hear. He was quickly growing sick of these games. The sooner he could gather what he needed, the better. 

‘What does Kirigakure want with my father’s eyes?’ 

There was a hesitation. ‘I’m afraid that’s not how this works.’ 

‘What does your leader want with my father’s eyes?’ 

Takeshi made a noise of disgruntlement. ‘I think we need to reestablish the order here. You are a prisoner, Uchiha Itachi. My prisoner. It’s pointless to try and gain intel when you won’t be leaving this bunker alive.’ 

‘You’re going to tell me what you want with the Hokage,’ Itachi persisted, interweaving the threads of chakra he could muster into an intricate genjutsu. He draped the illusion over the cell without even needing to activate his Sharingan — a vision of Itachi breaking every bone in Takeshi’s body one by one. 

There was a sharp intake of breath and a brush of metal as the other man grabbed a weapon from his pouch. It was soon followed by an irritated mutter. ‘Kai.’ 

Itachi loathed the fact that he was blindfolded. Soon he would give Takeshi a suitable punishment. 

‘If you refuse to cooperate,’ Takeshi explained disapprovingly, ‘we’ll just have to conduct a more thorough interrogation of your comrade.’ 

Itachi’s thoughts came to a grinding halt. 

‘We currently have her in a holding cell. So far she’s been rather resistant to our methods, but I’m sure she just needs a little more convincing.’ 

Sakura is here?

No. He had no solid evidence aside from the trivial words of his enemy. There was every chance Takeshi was simply trying to get him to reveal critical information about Konoha’s security system and protocols. 

But if she’s hurt…

Right now, she could be experiencing torture just the same, if not worse. She could be waiting for him, her captain, to help her. 

Itachi swung his leg as far as the chains would allow him, however Takeshi simply stepped out of the way. His sole hit something pointy and metallic, and he inwardly winced at the pain in the back of his heel. 

Found it. 

Takeshi clicked his tongue and knocked three times on the cell door. ‘I think perhaps some solitude is in order.’ There was a hollow, steel echo as the door was unlocked from the outside, creaking as it opened to allow Takeshi out. 

‘You’re not going to hurt her,’ Itachi murmured. He reached out several tendrils of chakra, the little that he could spare, hoping that Takeshi could feel his intent. 

‘Don’t worry.’ The reply was nonchalant. ‘I’m sure the other guards have no intention of killing her. They rather enjoy spending their time with her.’ 

Itachi waited until the cell door closed. His fists clenched and unclenched as his mind moved rapidly, slotting the pieces together. Earlier he had thought Takeshi’s comments were ludicrous, but now he was concerned that they had taken on some level of truth. The possibility left him nauseous. 

Sakura…

He wasn’t a violent man, but if Sakura was harmed in any way, he swore he would kill Takeshi himself. 

For now, he stretched out his leg, using his toes to nudge the hairpin a little closer. Takeshi had made a severe mistake in leaving it there. 

Sakura had followed the trail of bloody footprints for a full day before she finally found it. Just looking at the cavern now sent a chill down the back of her neck. 

It was a cave. But not any old cave. This was an underground bunker that smelled of moulted snakeskin and fear. 

She’d heard about these particular caves from Kakashi-sensei. After one of the legendary sannin — her mentor’s exiled teammate — infiltrated Konoha’s chuunin exams in an attempt to steal the Sharingan for himself, he vanished. It was rumoured that when he wasn’t in Otogakure leading the Hidden Village of Sound, he had a number of secret underground bunkers in the deepest corners of Fire Country where he conducted inhumane experiments in a quest to achieve immortality. 

Kakashi-sensei had told her his name too. 

Orochimaru. 

She had encountered him once in the Forest of Death after Orochimaru disguised himself as a shinobi. He had attacked their team to steal Sasuke’s eyes, presumably under the assumption that he would be alone and vulnerable. However, it was later revealed that this was simply a distraction whilst a team of Oto nin attempted to break into the Sharingan vault under the Hokage Tower. 

Sakura couldn’t forget his eyes, snakelike and yellow. 

Yellow. 

This whole time, Kiri had been in cahoots with Orochimaru. There was no other reasonable explanation for why ninja from Kirigakure would be using one of his creepy underground bunkers to hold prisoners.  

She eyed the cave entrance, reassuring herself that she still had her chakra reserves and the weapons Tsunade had given her safely stashed inside her Obi.

Well, here goes nothing. 

With caution, Sakura entered. 

Itachi had escaped from a variety of dangerous situations before. But this was the first time he’d used a hairpin to pick a lock.

Blood trickled down the wound in his side as he twisted his body, straining to reach the locks securing the chains to the stone wall. He forced himself to move carefully,  methodically, even if his every instinct went against it. 

He had always sworn to protect the few who were precious to him. He was never able to save Shisui, or Izumi. And as for Sakura? She could be dead. And as her captain, he will have failed her. As her comrade, he will have failed her. As her… friend? No. 

Not after the kiss. 

He could still taste the dango on her tongue, and even feel her fingers digging in his yukata, pulling him closer as the fireworks burst over the river.

‘Sai—Sakura.’ 

Back then, her smile had crumbled away. But there was no doubt about it. It was Sakura who returned his kiss. 

Not Saika. Sakura. 

The thought both lifted his hopes and blackened them into ash. Itachi still didn’t quite know how to describe his feelings towards her, yet the memory of her vibrant smile was tainted by the knowledge that he had stood there, nearly ten years ago in ANBU Headquarters, watching on as she suffered under nightmarish torture worse than anything Takeshi had inflicted upon him thus far. 

His clan had hurt her. His negligence had hurt her.

And there was no coming back from that. Some things were truly unforgivable. 

For now, at least, I can keep her safe from this. 

A small click sounded from the lock. One of his hands fell free, slipping out of the chain’s iron grip. 

Almost immediately Sakura was assaulted by the darkness of the tunnel. She kept one hand braced against the wall to help her navigate the way, however there was no doubt this entrance would be rigged full of traps. 

Cupping her free hand to her lips, she whispered a fire jutsu that Sasuke had taught her when they were fourteen after weeks of pestering him. Almost immediately, a flame flickered in the palm of her hand, the light throwing shadows along the walls. She walked on, noting the snakeskin pattern chiselled into the stone, eyes searching for any sign of a door or pathway. 

There was a whoosh of air. 

Streams of senbon shot out from the darkness ahead, flying right at her.

Sakura darted to the left, sprinting across the ceiling of the cave to avoid the flow. When she entered she must have triggered a movement sensor, as the Senbon were shooting from tiles in the walls. 

Or at least it seemed that way. The edge of a senbon shivered. Blurred. 

‘Kai,’ she said. 

The genjutsu melted away.  

She continued until the small flame in her hand caught the edge of a pathway leading to the right. She checked the coast was clear, then proceeded, finding herself in a whole new tunnel. This time there were lanterns on the walls offering some, if not rather dismal, lighting. 

She blew out the flame in her palm and hurried along the path. So far, she had yet to encounter a single door or room—

‘Hey! Intruder!’ 

She spun, her hands grabbing the kunai thrown at her before it could strike. A lone Kiri nin stood in the tunnel, shaking as Sakura suddenly materialised behind him holding the tip of the blade to his throat. 

‘The prison cells. Where are they?’ 

‘Like I’d tell you,’ he scoffed. She felt his fingers creep towards his weapons pouch. With her free hand, Sakura grasped his wrist and tightened her hold until she heard a loud snap. ‘Gah!’ The Kiri nin tried to squirm away, but it was no use. 

‘I really don’t have time for this,’ she said lowly, adding further pressure to the nin’s broken wrist. ’So don’t try me. The prison cells. Now.’ 

‘They’re to the south,’ the Kiri nin cried. 

‘The south,’ Sakura said. ‘That means nothing to me when we’re underground without a compass. How about you start being useful and actually tell me how to get there, hm?’ 

‘If you follow the cave and keep heading left you’ll find it. Please! Please just let me go! I’m only following orders.’ 

Sakura pushed the edge of the kunai further into his throat. ‘Who’s orders?’ 

‘Takeshi-san’s orders!’ 

Takeshi! 

So he’d found out about her guise. Sakura couldn’t help but wonder when he’d realised. Although it was most likely when she’d been attacked in the hallway by the idiot with a vendetta. She’d had no choice but to use her chakra back then. 

He was watching me ever since then. 

No wonder he returned so frequently. 

Sakura hadn’t realised that she’d been completely lost in thought until the Kiri nin elbowed her in the stomach. Sakura stumbled back, letting her hold of him slip. She tried to grab him again but he was too quick, running down the corridor into the pitch darkness. 

No doubt he was going to raise the alarm, which could only mean one thing. 

She was already running out of time. 

Chapter Text

‘If you follow the cave and keep heading left, you’ll find it.’

The tunnels were long and lit only by torches. Occasionally Sakura passed by iron doors with windows, revealing disused laboratories and testing centres, some with shelves of jars containing human remains preserved in resin. She could only wonder about the extent of the horrors that had occurred in a place like this. She didn’t dare stop to investigate. 

Another crossing lay up ahead. 

Left! 

A door opened directly in front of her before she could take another step. Three Kiri shinobi entered the corridor and darted towards her. Sakura wasted no time in grabbing the nin closest to her and punching them across the cave. They fell with a crack against the wall, blood dripping from their forehead. 

Another threw a number of shiruken at her. 

Is that all you’ve got? 

Sakura made a quick shadow clone and allowed her clone to take the attack, falling as though injured. Meanwhile, the real Sakura crouched upside down on the ceiling, watching closely as two ninja inspected the clone below. 

Surely they wouldn’t fall for this… they must be clones too. 

From right behind her came a scrape of sandal against stone.  

Got you!

Sakura flipped down from the ceiling as the clones below vanished in puffs of smoke. The two ninja followed her, one twisting his leg in a roundhouse kick aimed at her head. She blocked the blow with her arm, grabbing his calf and swinging him around until his body slammed into his comrade, knocking them both out and sending them both flying through the tunnel. Both sank into unconsciousness. 

Normally, she would stop to check that they wouldn’t get back up again. But time was disappearing — fast. She continued running, following the twisted path of the caves until she came across rows of reinforced steel doors, some with complex locks, others with chakra seals. 

She knew right away which cell was his; she sensed the guards outside before she saw them. A shinobi and a kunoichi. 

They rushed at her, but she threw Tsunade’s Senbon at them, taking out the shinobi instantly. The kunoichi was a little trickier, however Sakura picked her up by the scruff of her flak jacket and threw her at the door, before knocking her out with a chakra-fuelled punch to the jaw. The kunoichi slid to the ground. Sakura kicked her body out of the way. 

The door itself was made of thick steel with the type of heavy internal lock that couldn’t be picked with a mere senbon. The guards had to have a key somewhere. Thinking fast, she got to her hands and knees, scrabbling through the guards’ pockets and weapons pouches to no avail. In fact, there was nothing of use to her at all, aside from a few shiruken and kunai that she slipped into her obi. 

But no key. 

Defeated, she looked first at the cell door in front of her, then left and right down the empty tunnels that stretched on to no end. She needed to act now. Any longer and there was a risk that a whole army of Kiri shinobi would come to hunt her down. 

The cell door stood before her, a silent challenge. The noise would give her position away immediately. But if it meant bringing Itachi back to his family, so be it. Sasuke would never forgive her if she left him here. 

And I would never forgive myself. 

‘Itachi!’ She called out tentatively. ’If you can hear me, get out of the way of the door!’

There was no response. Or at least, if there was, perhaps she simply wasn’t able to hear it. Adjusting her yukata for easier movement and kicking off her geta sandals, she readied herself. Summoning chakra to her foot just like her mentor had taught her, Sakura swung her leg and slammed her sole into the door. 

A deep crack rumbled through the cave like thunder. 

Silence. 

Then deep fractures began to splinter like lightning across the stone around the door.

Did it work? Please tell me it worked! 

There didn’t seem to be any effect at first. But then she could have sworn she saw the door tilt — yes. There it was! The door started to lean a little. It tilted forward, dangerously so, as a screeching groan permeated the quiet of the cave. Sakura lifted an arm, bracing herself for the impact. Slowly, then all at once, the door crashed to the ground amidst lumps of stone and chalky dust that fell in clouds over her shoulders.

It was impossible to see through the dust, and she squinted, coughing as she tried to make out where the hole in the wall began. 

‘Itachi!’ 

She hurried inside, bits of broken stone cutting into her bare feet. Her sandals were buried somewhere under the rubble, but it didn’t matter. 

At first, she couldn’t see anything through the haze. But then the dust started to settle, revealing a familiar silhouette slumped on a bench against the wall. Her heart soared with relief, only to turn cold as she took in the sight of him. 

Itachi?

The shape of him was all wrong. An unrecognisable outline of the man she had come to know. He was hunched, half-chained to the stone wall, somehow having unlocked the cuff on one hand. However his feet and left hand were still locked up. His hair tie had come free causing his long, tangled hair to drape across his face. He must have worn a blindfold at one point, as one had been pulled away from his eyes and was now sitting loosely around his neck. He was covered in sweat and grime, and more notably, his chin and the front of his yukata were stained maroon with old blood. Her medic’s eyes picked up on the deep, oozing wounds to his thigh and side. 

And right now, he was staring at her with something wild in his eyes. 

Sakura tried not to let her emotions show on her face. She really tried. 

But he looks so broken… 

Just the sight of him hurt. She fell to her knees by his side and cupped his jaw with her hand. Dried blood flaked off under her fingers, but she didn’t care. This was him. This was Itachi. He was alive. A mixture of hope and upset overwhelmed her. He was alive and breathing, yes, but he looked so vulnerable. 

She ran her thumb along his cheek. He seemed to lean into her touch, or perhaps it was just her imagination. 

‘Sakura…’ 

His voice was hoarse. He needed water. Why didn’t she bring water? His dark eyes roved over her figure, head to toe, as if searching for something. 

‘I came to get you out of here. I was following their tracks for a whole day before I found this place. It’s one of Orochimaru’s old hideouts in Fire Country. He must be working with Kirigakure, and Danzo too, I suppose.’ 

She drew the blindfold away from his neck. Her hands automatically glowed with healing chakra, spreading its warmth down to his lungs to try and remedy some of the damage. Meanwhile, Itachi appeared to be deep in thought. 

‘Orochimaru…’ He frowned. ‘You weren’t captured?’ 

She shook her head. ‘After we escaped from Kiri I ran into someone. An old friend, I guess you could say. Apparently I was out for two days, otherwise I would have come sooner. I’m just… I’m sorry it took me so long.’ 

Itachi’s expression morphed into something indiscernible. His free hand came to rest in her hair, stroking through the pink tresses and sliding down to her waist. She froze, unsure of how to react as he leaned forward, resting his forehead on her shoulder. 

‘I—Itachi, what’s wrong?’ 

He didn’t respond. However, her skin was alight with shivers at the sensation of his hair and breath tickling the exposed skin of her neck, and she hoped to high heavens that he couldn’t feel her heart beating wildly against her ribs. 

Sakura wasn’t sure what to make of his strange behaviour. Itachi was always so composed, calm and collected. Always in control. This wasn’t like him at all. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘What is it?’ 

He finally lifted his head, however his hand remained firm on her waist. This time, it was like she was looking at a different person once again. The wilderness had disappeared from his eyes, and his expression was dark and calculating. A cold tingle ran along her skin, a deadly intent that all well-trained ninja could sense. It was as though Itachi was already crafting a plan. 

‘They’re coming,’ he said quietly. ‘We don’t have much time.’ 

‘Here, let me.’ 

Sakura hooked her fingers around the chain circling his wrist, prying apart the loop with all her strength. Due to their chakra enhancement, it was impossible to open them fully, however she widened them enough for Itachi to slip his wrist though. She did the same for the chains around his ankles, when something caught her eye. She touched her fingers softly to the swollen red skin at the back of his heels. 

‘Kami! Itachi, they’ve—‘ 

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Don’t waste your chakra. I can walk fine.’ 

He made to stand, but Sakura grabbed a fistful of his yukata and yanked him back down again. ‘Absolutely not! It’ll take just a minute.’ 

‘We can’t spare a minute.’ 

She scowled at him, refusing to let go of his yukata. ‘If we’re going to get out of here, we need to be able to run. If you think I’m going to let your stubbornness get in the way of the mission, think again.’

He looked at her sternly. ‘One minute. No more.’ 

Channeling healing chakra to her hands, she placed them over each of Itachi’s ankles, knitting the severed tendons back together and soothing the inflammation. She looked at him triumphantly, as if to say, ‘told you so’. But Itachi didn’t seem to rise to it. Instead, he rotated one of his ankles back and forth, testing its mobility. 

‘Thank you,’ he murmured. 

‘Anytime.’ She got to her feet, helping him stand. 'Now let’s get the hell out of this place.’ 

Never before had Sakura truly seen Itachi’s reputation in action. 

They hurried through the dark caves of Orochimaru’s bunker, running into squads of Kiri shinobi at every turn. She took out several of their enemies, however she barely had a chance to fight as Itachi moved faster than her eyes could keep up. 

That speed… it’s like he’s inhuman!

His chakra must have been suppressed this whole time. He was unleashing several days of pent up energy without holding back at all. 

She tried to keep up with his pace, although it was a marvel that he could move as he did. Surely his injuries must have caused him hurt, but Sakura never saw it in his movements or expression. Every so often he looked at her for directions, but aside from that he was undeterred from the path ahead. 

Sasuke had warned her about this side to Itachi. Her mind was thrown back to the conversation she’d had with Sasuke and Kakashi when she first told them about her mission. Back then, she’d just assumed he was being patronising, thinking that she wouldn’t be able to handle working with someone as skilled as his beloved older brother. 

But now she could see it. 

For the first time, Sakura felt that she was face to face with Uchiha Itachi, feared Anbu captain and prodigy of the Uchiha clan. 

Sakura broke out of her thoughts as they approached the next intersection. They were nearly there! 

Just a little further.

She and Itachi turned right, only for a shadow to suddenly appear before them. 

They ground to a halt, and Sakura’s hand went straight to her obi, fingers hooking into two shiruken. The shadow moved out from under the torchlight, revealing a face Sakura knew all too well. A face that, at one time, she had thought she could trust. 

‘Takeshi-san,’ she said. 

Takeshi’s face was like blank parchment. His features were the same, yes. The same slope of his nose, the tilt to his mouth, even the same heterochromia in his eyes. But there was no trace of friendliness or familiarity. Nothing in his gaze that showed hesitation or even mild concern for the fact that he was face to face with two skilled Konoha shinobi.

He did, however, lower his eyes to Itachi’s feet. 

‘When they told me there was an intruder breaking out one of the prisoners, I had a feeling it would be you two.’ 

His words drawled, as though he found their predicament rather entertaining, if anything. Sakura shuddered at the change in his voice. Usually most shinobi kept at least some of their true selves, even when infiltrating or using a henge. But this wasn’t the same man she’d met in Mistress’ bar. He was distant. As unfeeling as remote mountain peaks. Was it all a facade? She felt stupid, somehow, for having believed the face he had shown her. 

‘I trusted you…’ The words slipped out without her realising.

Takeshi’s eyes lifted only to look at Sakura. The corner of his mouth curled into something that was almost a smirk. ‘Perhaps. But that suggests more about you than it does about me.’ 

His words struck her. He wasn’t wrong. She was the enemy, so it was only natural that he would feign friendliness. Why had she expected anything different? 

I’ve always been too trusting of others…

Takeshi scoffed, looking at her with derision. ‘My my, if you’re that trusting of anyone you come across, you may as well not be a ninja. Are Konoha shinobi truly so weak?’ 

Without warning, Itachi sprung forward to grab Takeshi.

Sakura jumped a little at the unexpectedness of his actions, but readied herself for an attack. 

Takeshi leapt away, keen to create some distance between him and Itachi. However, with every move he made Itachi was right at his heels. Despite this, he somehow matched each of Itachi’s blows with his own. The air was filled with the slash and clang of weapon meeting weapon as the two men moved in a blur, each equally as fast as the other. 

She forced her eyes to track their movements, ready for an opportunity to jump in and aid her captain. However, she knew she couldn’t match his speed. There was a chance she could disrupt the fight, leaving them both fatally injured, if not worse. 

If don’t want to get in the way, but still…

Her eyes flitted back and forth, searching for her moment to jump in. Her fist clenched, itching to break up Takeshi’s speed with an earth-shattering punch. For herself. For Hitomi. For every other person he’d deceived. 

For Itachi. 

However, Takeshi’s fate was sealed the moment he glanced up in brief distraction. His eyes locked with the Mangekyou Sharingan. Itachi’s face was dark, his eyes glowing crimson. 

Sakura watched Takeshi’s body drop to the ground, perfectly still. 

There was barely any discernible rise and fall to his chest. But he was still alive; she could feel his chakra humming beneath the surface. 

Itachi stood over Takeshi’s body, as if contemplating whether or not to finish the job. His face betrayed no emotion, but his knuckles were strained white around the kunai.

‘Itachi?’ 

Suddenly, those eyes like pinwheels turned towards her. A gasp forced its way from her lips, and she tore her gaze away. Fear crept over her. She knew this was the same man who’d given her his pillow when she couldn’t sleep, who as a child tried to help her after her bullies threw food at her. 

But she knew what those eyes could do. She blinked away old traces of nightmares, memories of her past, a bloody wallpaper hanging in the backdrop of her dreams. 

He wouldn’t hurt her. 

He wouldn’t. 

The moment slowed, each second drawn out as Sakura knew it was the wrong reaction to have. She could feel him looking at her curiously, studying her response. Studying her trauma. 

When she finally looked up, Itachi’s Sharingan had deactivated. His expression was one that Sakura didn’t think she would ever be able to forget. It was written all over him. Yet she couldn’t decipher its meaning. She would have given anything to be able to read his thoughts. 

But she couldn’t. 

‘We should go,’ he said quietly. 

Itachi wasn’t sure when he began to feel the first signs of exhaustion. 

All he knew was that back in Orochimaru’s base he had burnt through chakra without even stopping to consider the effect on his injuries. Only now was it impossible to ignore the stabbing pains running throughout his body every time he landed on the bough of a tree. 

Every so often, when she wasn’t busy leading the way to the cabin that would act as their safe-house, Sakura spared him a nervous glance. It was as if she was waiting for him to faint. Twice she had asked him to pause their journey so she could heal him. 

He refused both times. 

Until there was enough distance between their location and Orochimaru’s old base, they wouldn’t be in the clear. If they ran into a squad of enemy ninja, him half-healed and Sakura low on chakra, it would only spell disaster for the both of them. Once they reached the cabin, there would be time to heal any injuries they’d sustained. Sakura had mentioned an old friend helping her. 

Her old mentor, Tsunade, no doubt.

So, he continued to ignore the wooziness starting in his head and the sparks shooting down his calf from the wound in his thigh, even as Sakura started to slow her pace. She soon came to a halt. 

‘Why are we stopping?’ 

There was a stream below running through the trees. Above them, the sun was at its highest point, and a gentle breeze swept through the foliage. 

‘We need a break,’ Sakura said. He opened his mouth, but she swiftly raised a hand to stop him. ’I can see you’re flagging. Don’t even try to deny it. Sasuke-kun tries to do the same thing and I can see right through the both of you.’ 

‘We don’t have time.’ 

‘You’re on the brink of collapse, Itachi. I don’t know if you realise this but your voice sounds like gravel. You need water, and I don’t know if we’ll find another stream before dark.’

He stared at her squarely, a little unhappy with the idea. But he begrudgingly recognised that she was the medic and there was no getting around his condition. She, too, perhaps needed a break. 

‘We’ll take five minutes,’ he decided. ‘No longer.’ 

She dropped to the ground, making a beeline to the bank of the stream. Itachi followed. He felt a headache brewing and the wooziness from earlier had not yet dissipated, but he wouldn’t let his guard down. Even as Sakura started splashing water on her face and neck, he made sure to keep his ears trained on the surrounding area. 

‘Come here.’ Sakura’s hand pulled at his sleeve, forcing him to sit. She grabbed the end of her yukata and ripped off a strip of fabric, dunking it in the water. 

He allowed her to run the cool rag along his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, all while he silently watched. There was a sheen of sweat along her skin from the exertion of their escape. A series of small freckles dotted her cheeks — he had never noticed them before. Her brows were knitted together in concentration, but as soon as she met his stare, she flinched and nearly dropped the damp rag. 

‘Is something wrong?’ 

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s just your Sharingan. I didn’t realise you’d activated it.’ 

Quite frankly, neither had he. Sakura had never had an averse reaction to his regular Sharingan before now. Only his Mangekyou, for obvious reasons. ‘It makes you uncomfortable.’ 

‘A little. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.’ 

‘I apologise,’ he said quietly. ‘It helps me see clearly. I’ll look away if that’s what you’d prefer.’ 

Sakura seemed a little surprised, but didn’t protest when he looked towards the stream instead. She continued to sweep the damp rag along his neck, cleaning away the grime so gently he was half tempted to shut his eyes altogether and lean into her touch. It was a strange sensation to have someone care for him in this way. The last time someone had looked after him like this, it was… not his mother, no. 

Izumi. 

They had been on a mission to Cloud when he’d been poisoned. He still remembered the smell of campfire smoke in the cave where she’d nursed him back to health. 

But Sakura wasn’t Izumi. That was already quite clear. 

He admired the way the crystal surface of the stream glinted in the sunlight. He cupped his palm and brought some of the water to his dry lips. It was surprisingly cool considering how sunny it was. He brought more to his lips, drinking steadily before he registered Sakura’s hand hovering close by his side.The warmth of her chakra spread through the wound there, tickling the roughened skin. 

‘Sakura,’ he warned her.

‘I know, I know. I’m not using much Chakra though. I’m just trying to stop the bleeding.’ 

Itachi’s eyes flitted to hers, seeing such strong compassion there. A compassion he didn’t deserve. He remembered too well the look she had given him back in Orochimaru’s base, when he’d contemplated slitting Takeshi’s throat only to hear her voice. He’d forgotten to deactivate his Mangekyou when he turned to her. The fear in her eyes was so tangible, he could almost taste it. The regret had almost swallowed him whole. 

She was right to fear him.

He had cornered her into his plan for peace, perhaps even manipulated her in doing so. And as for his memories… he’d shown her the past, but he hadn’t shown her everything. Really, he should have pushed her hand away, refused any and all affection she gave him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

She had become a glimpse of dawn in the winter of his life. And he was inextricably drawn to her light. 

This wasn’t the right time to think about these things. They needed to reach the cabin, where Sakura’s old mentor would be waiting for them. 

He opened his mouth to suggest that they move on. However, before he could speak a stabbing pain shot through his head and the wooziness fogged over his vision. His body tensed, nerves on fire as world tilted around him. 

The last thing he remembered before his head hit the ground was the image of Sakura’s blurred face, filled with fright, as she called out his name. 

Chapter Text

Itachi opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. 

This wasn’t the ceiling of his family home in Konoha, nor of the inn he stayed in during his time in Kirigakure. In fact, nothing was familiar. The air was warm around his exposed shoulders, and there was a faint scent of sap. When he breathed, he could taste smoke on his tongue. The wooden walls enclosing the room were old and musty, and a pair of grimy windows revealed a glimpse of forest against the dark night. There was no sound but the occasional hoot of an owl. 

This had to be the cabin he’d heard about. The safe-house where Sakura had found herself after they escaped Kirigakure.

As he stared at the dark slope of the ceiling, he became aware that he was lying on a futon, the covers tucked around him, and that he was wearing nothing but his undergarments. However, he could feel the taut tickle of bandages wrapped around his stomach and his lower thigh. 

There was something warm and heavy draped over his waist. He looked to his left, seeing pink. 

Sakura. 

She was fast asleep, lying on the futon above the covers. Her hair had fallen into her face and she was snoring gently. Her arm was lying across his torso and in her sleep, she had curled up to the nearest source of warmth she could find: him. 

Itachi vaguely wondered if she had simply fallen asleep that way, or if she had decided against getting under the covers because of his half-undressed state. But the thought disappeared as he heard shuffling from outside the cabin door. 

His fingers itched for a weapon pouch that wasn’t in reach.  

The door creaked open. 

His Sharingan glowed. 

‘Calm down, Uchiha.’ 

It was an irritated whisper from a voice he’d never heard before, but he recognised her face from old files and documents he’d perused once or twice in his father’s office. The woman quietly stepped inside. 

The first Hokage’s granddaughter, Tsunade.

She stood in the doorway, staring him down. There was an iciness that clung to her person, but she didn’t seem to be on the offensive. She soundlessly crept to a chair by the hearth, never once taking her eyes off his. 

‘We need to talk,’ she said. 

Sakura was used to waking up in strange places by now. The woods, campsites, inns… in the past, when she’d still been allowed out of the village with Team Seven, she’d wake up perched on tree branches. Usually, her first instinct was to spring into action or check her surroundings for any sign of enemy shinobi. 

But this time, she found herself snuggling into something soft and warm, smooth against her cheek. Whatever it was happened to be playing with the ends her hair, stroking the strands. 

And it was breathing. 

Her eyes flew open. 

She instantly made to sit up, but something solid prevented her from doing so — a hand. She turned to lie on her side, and finally noticed the dark, sleepy pair of eyes watching her from the pillow. There were shadows haunting the recesses of his face, and his jaw looked thin.

‘Go back to sleep,’ Itachi mumbled. 

Bit by bit, she took in the situation. He was lying inside the futon, in the same place where she’d healed his injuries the night before. But she was under the covers too, and she definitely remembered having to take off his… 

Her face suddenly felt warm. 

Oh Kami! I’m sharing a bed with Sasuke-kun’s nearly-naked older brother! 

Flinching at the realisation, she would have jumped straight out of the futon if not for the hand keeping her firmly in place. He gave her an exhausted look that warned her not to move.

With a huff of acceptance, she settled back on the futon. She’d shared a bed with Itachi before at the start of their mission. Back then, it had been fine. He’d even forfeited his pillow for her to use as a teddy bear. In some ways, it was only like sharing body heat with Naruto or Sasuke. Yes. That was all it was. 

Except Naruto or Sasuke would actually be wearing clothes. 

She lay on her side, facing him. ‘You moved me under the covers.’ 

‘You were shivering in your sleep,’ he replied, matter of fact. 

She couldn’t argue with his logic. He did what any considerate teammate would do. 

Still…

She didn’t realise she was biting her lip until Itachi’s hand emerged from under the covers. He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, removing a smear of blood. 

‘Sakura,’ his voice was quiet, muffled by the pillow under his head ‘thank you. You came to my aid, whether I needed it or not. And you’ve healed me even though it drained your chakra. I’m in your debt.’ 

His sincerity seemed unusual. There was no need to thank her so elaborately. Surely he didn’t expect her to just abandon him there. ‘Anyone would have done the same.’

‘Actually, most would have just assumed that I would find a way to escape on my own.’ 

He couldn’t be serious. Kakashi-sensei had always instilled the value of teamwork. Even to this day, she never forgot the lesson he’d imparted all those years ago during the bell test. 

‘Those who break the rules are scum. But those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.’ 

Scum indeed. It was hard to accept the idea that Itachi’s comrades would just happily assume he was strong enough to rescue himself. However, he was looking at her with such honesty and reflection, it was impossible not to believe him. 

But for a moment, she had thought the same, hadn’t she?

‘You say that, but we both know you didn’t really need me,’ she whispered. 

‘Perhaps. But it was appreciated.’ 

She thought back to the night before. How she’d heaved his unconscious body from the stream and crashed through the cabin door carrying Itachi over her shoulder, much to the alarm of the other three women. Sakura had forced her chakra into his limp body.

Her eyes welled up. She mentally cursed her emotions for getting in the way and making her look weak.

‘I saw what they did to you. When I healed you, it couldn’t not see it.’ She gasped as tears spilled down her cheeks, dampening the pillow under her head. She tried to brush them away with the back of her hand. ‘How could you let them do that? You could’ve — you should’ve fought back.’ 

The mixture of raw emotions from the last few days finally overspilled as she sobbed into her palm. The panic at the sight of his blood. The shock of his bruised appearance, as he sat, chained to a wall. She had seen the true extent of the damage with her own eyes.

Aside from the obvious stab wounds and bruises, the damage to his nervous system was intense. It was the a kind of damage she’d seen in the hospital before, usually from shinobi who had suffered electrocution during intense missions. There were cuts all over his ribs, his abdomen. Not to mention his poor, ravaged lungs. 

Why, Itachi? 

Why did you let them hurt you like that?

A hand pulled her own away from her face. He wiped away her tears and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  ‘When I became a ninja, I took an oath to dedicate my blood, soul and body to protect my village,’ he explained calmly. ‘If that means putting myself in harm’s way for the sake of valuable information, so be it.’ 

He was so composed, even if it was a harsh statement. But Sakura couldn’t accept that. She refused to accept it. 

Is that really how little you value your life?

‘Please,’ she said. ‘Don’t do it again.’ 

‘If the mission demands it, I have no choice.’

She shook her head, grimacing. ‘Of course you have a choice. You might not have any self-worth, but I’ve already lost my family. I don’t want to lose you too.’ 

She could have sworn his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. But the moment passed. Then his hand lifted, two fingers outstretched to tap her forehead. The gesture was… unexpected, to say the least. Sakura silently awaited an explanation. 

‘A promise to try,’ he said. 

A smile pulled at his mouth, quickly replaced with hesitance. Sakura briefly wondered what was wrong, but she didn’t have the chance to ask as his lips met hers. 

There were few things that brought him joy nowadays. Watching Sasuke’s eyes light up at the sight of tomato onigiri was one. Seeing his otouto pretend that he wasn’t bothered by Itachi eating the last onigiri, despite the twitch of his eyebrow, was another. Visiting Shisui and Izumi’s graves gave him small sense of closure, grief mingled with peace. 

But nothing filled him with such joy as watching Sakura’s brow rumple with bewilderment as he pulled away from the kiss. She seemed stunned for a moment, then turned rigid. It was hard to say whether he’d done something wrong. 

’Was that for me or for Saika?’ 

Ah… 

Perhaps she hadn’t meant it that way, but the blow struck him all the same. 

He pulled her closer, just as he should have done days ago when they’d watched the fireworks burning over the river. He’d misled her back then, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake now. It was just a shame the hairpin was still in the pocket of his yukata, which he had seen draped over the chair by the hearth. He would have given it to her, but getting up out of the futon would destroy this moment. 

‘Hmm… I don’t believe I know anyone called Saika,’ he said, kissing her again softly. ‘I only know a Sakura.’

He felt her relax, reassured, as he slanted his mouth over hers, rolling them over until she was under him. She fit against him perfectly, wrapping her legs around his hips in a way that left him a little dizzy. It triggered a slight pain from the newly healed wound in his side, but he didn’t dare ask her to move. 

He had no idea what he was doing, only gauging by what felt right. Due to clan priorities his only real experience with women had been with Sakura herself, and there was little to fall back on in that regard. Whatever he was doing, Sakura seemed keen to keep going, until she broke away from a deeper kiss, suddenly wistful. 

‘Hmm. I don’t know about this. There was this guy I met in Kiri, you know, and I kind of liked him.’ 

He raised a brow. ’Aa. I see.’ 

Shifting his attention to her neck, he kissed her pulse and sucked a little on the thin skin, pleased when started to turn a reddish-purple. He didn’t know if it was the correct thing to do, but he ran his fingers along the edge of her yukata, loosening it slightly to reveal the curve of her cleavage. Her back arched in response to his ministrations. A good sign, perhaps?

He thought again about her silly comment. She was quite a tease.  

’But is he stronger than me?’ 

A small hand drifted along his bicep, fingernails dragging tantalisingly across his skin. ‘No, I don’t think so. He’s a civilian. A merchant.’ 

‘He doesn’t sound like much of a threat.’ 

He ran his nose along the crook of her neck, inhaling a scent that was uniquely her. Occasionally he allowed his tongue to run along her throat, tasting her skin. She was flushed under him, her head tilted back and eyes half closed. When the hand on his bicep ran through his loose hair, Itachi nearly saw stars. 

‘He gave me this yukata,’ she said. ‘It was a gift, so you’d better not ruin it.’ 

He leaned away a little, inspected the once pristine red yukata that was already scuffed at the seams and torn at the hem. ‘Well, I suppose in that case it’s best if I remove it.’ 

Sakura laughed as he slid his hands under her to work at untying the obi. Pulling at the fabric, it took a little effort to remove and he placed it at the side of the futon, along with the range of shiruken and senbon she’d somehow managed to stash inside. Sakura lay beneath him like an unwrapped gift, her bare chest rising and falling, fingertips gripping his forearm. She watched him with a mixture of innocence and, burning under the surface, sensuality.

He inched his hand towards her midriff. ‘May I?’ 

She nodded. 

Her skin was soft and smooth under his touch, occasionally pale with thin slices of scars from sparring and battles. Fingers sliding north, he felt every breath she took, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how she was alive and well. Not broken and bruised, as Takeshi had suggested. 

Or worse…

‘Don’t worry. I’m sure the other guards have no intention of killing her. They rather enjoy spending their time with her.’ 

The thought made him inwardly grimace, something he didn’t realise was evident on his face until Sakura whispered his name. ‘You activated your Sharingan.’ 

He leaned over her, pressing light kisses to the valley between her breasts as he rested his head on her sternum and listened to her heartbeat. It was strong, if a little too fast. Her fingers were in his hair, combing through the strands in a way that offered more comfort than he would ever admit to feeling. 

‘Takeshi talked about you often,’ he said. ‘I believe he was using you to aggravate me. He suggested that you were in another cell.’ 

The hand in his hair stilled. 

‘He mentioned several things…’ The words struggled to mould themselves on his tongue. ‘I was led to believe that his method of torture for you was a little different to mine… as a woman.’ 

He felt her breath hitch. 

Itachi would never admit to it openly, but back then, his mind had been filled with grotesque imaginings. What ifs that he wouldn’t dream of speaking aloud. It had been many years since he had last been this fearful for one of his loved ones. 

Was that what Sakura was now? 

One of his precious people. 

When she’d torn her way into his cell, standing amidst the dust and stone shards like a warrior, he had almost dismissed it as a cruel genjutsu. A ploy to tease his mind with the missed prospect of escape. And then she had revealed that she had only just discovered the base, and had never been captured by Kiri’s forces to begin with. There were no words that could adequately describe the relief that encompassed him. 

Now, his skin brushing hers, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the fact that she was alive. Her heart remained steady under his cheek. She didn’t say anything further. Not at first. Then she mumbled something under her breath. 

‘I was terrified. I saw your blood in the forest…’ 

His thumb stroked her hip. ‘I apologise.’ 

‘I couldn’t be sure if they’d killed you on the spot, even though I know you’re strong.’ 

‘I was careless,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll heed your advice in the future.’ 

There was a special kind of bliss in how they lay there, simply pleased with the other’s existence. Itachi would have stayed there forever if given the choice. 

But then he heard a noise. 

Footsteps. Just outside. 

Itachi grabbed the edges of the red yukata and yanked it around a very baffled Sakura right at the same moment that the cabin door was thrown open. 

Sakura yelped, nearly bashing her head into Itachi’s collarbone. He was glad she missed; she would have broken it. ’Shishou!’ 

Tsunade darkened the doorway, lips pressed in a thin line. Her gaze switched back and forth between Itachi — who for the first time today, felt the need to cover his state of undress — and Sakura, who clutched her yukata to her chest and attempted to close her thighs despite his presence between them.

Behind Tsunade, another chakra signature made itself known. It belonged to a woman with short dark hair, holding a ninja pig in her arms. However, Itachi noticed a familiar face beside her — Sakura’s friend from Kirigakure. The civilian. 

What was her name? Hitomi, if I remember correctly. 

Tsunade held up a bag. The movement was so slow, so calculated as her sharp eyes bored into him. 

‘We brought breakfast.’ 

Sakura scrambled into a seated position, easing herself out from beneath him. ’T—thank you! We’ll be right out, Shishou.’ 

Tsunade gave them a hard stare, as though she loathed the idea of leaving them alone again. Then she finally closed the door behind her. Once more, the cabin was silent. 

Outside the cabin the remains of an old campfire had been rekindled, and Tsunade had arranged several boulders and logs for them to sit whilst they ate. After Sakura had drained nearly all her chakra healing Itachi the night before, the other three women had decided to stay at an inn within the local village to give Sakura and Itachi privacy and space to recover. At some point during the morning, Shizune and Hitomi had picked up some more suitable clothing for them — Sakura, for one was grateful to get out of her tattered yukata — and had allowed them time to change whilst the others prepared breakfast over the campfire. 

However, Sakura knew how to read a room. She could smell tension a mile off. The rivalry between Sasuke and Naruto had taught her as much. 

She could feel it now, as they ate.

The silence was like a tightly drawn string. 

Sakura looked to Itachi between mouthfuls of rice as she tried to think of something to say. Opposite her, across the fire, Itachi was sitting on a rock. His eyes lifted to hers, and she knew he felt it too. Shizune and Hitomi glanced between the pair of them. Tsunade’s eyes were trained on Itachi. 

Nobody had mentioned the scene they’d walked in on earlier. 

A blush crawled up her neck at the memory. Even though they hadn’t made it as far as the act itself, the whisper of Itachi’s fingertips against her skin left her tingling in anticipation. For a while, she’d wondered why he’d held her in Orochimaru’s base, and she hadn’t understood at first why he’d leaned down to listen to her heartbeat. But it made perfect sense now… 

‘Takeshi talked about you often… I was led to believe that his method of torture for you was a little different to mine… as a woman.’

He hadn’t said it explicitly, but she understood. 

Had he really been so worried? About me?

Sakura had never felt so… so… 

Loved. 

No. 

She couldn’t allow herself to think that he was in love with her. She would only be setting herself up for disappointment, and she’d already had enough disappointment to last a lifetime. 

But then again, she knew he felt something for her. What happened between them in the cabin only proved it. 

Looking up from her breakfast, Sakura caught Itachi’s eye again across the campfire. This time, she gave him a small smile. His eyes softened, but he didn’t return it.

Later that morning, Sakura made her goodbyes to her mentor and friends. Deep down, she would have liked to stay longer, but their presence was dangerous for both parties. They were in Fire Country — home territory — and if any groups of shinobi passing through spotted them together, it would spell the end for all of them. 

Hitomi passionately threw her arms around Sakura. ‘I’m going to miss you so much! Please tell me I’ll get to see you again?’ 

She squeezed the girl in a fierce hug. ‘One day you’ll be able to visit us in Konoha. It may take a while though. Just give us some time to work things out.’ 

She couldn’t bring herself to speak the words, I promise. Nothing was set in stone, especially not Konoha’s future.  

Sakura turned to Shizune next, who clasped her hands in her own. ‘We’ll look after her. Don’t worry about us, either. Just focus on getting back safely.’ 

‘Buh!’ Tonton agreed. 

She had barely turned away from the little pig before she was pulled into Tsunade’s bosom. Her old mentor clutched her tightly, almost maternally, as if she already knew that it would be a long time until they would meet again. When the embrace lasted a second or two longer than expected, Sakura began to pull away. At that moment, Tsunade’s face leaned close to her ear. 

‘Sakura, keep your wits about you. If he tries anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to kill him.’ 

Sakura’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. It took her a second to clock that by ‘him’, Tsunade was referring to Itachi. 

From the corner of her vision, she noticed the man in question watching them closely with blazing red eyes, even as he stood some distance away by the edge of the forest. Tsunade’s wariness was understandable, but to actively suggest that she kill him was a step too far. A thought crossed her mind that perhaps her old mentor and Itachi had had a conversation that she didn’t know about. 

‘Shishou, I trust him. And so should you.’ 

Tsunade shook her head minutely. Sakura could see her wrestling with herself, as though she knew something that Sakura didn’t, and had something important to tell her but didn’t want to be the one to say it. 

‘Shishou?’ 

‘I’m telling you this for a good reason,’ Tsunade said, at last. ‘Just watch yourself.’ 

Her fingers tightened around Tsunade, and if not for the fact that Itachi may have been reading their lips with his Sharingan, she would have asked her mentor to explain what she’d meant. But the thought slipped away as Tsunade guided Sakura back towards the forest where Itachi was patiently waiting. 

The journey back to Konoha was marred with a silence that almost rivalled the one at breakfast. 

Itachi didn’t want to be the first one to break it. 

He’d noted that Sakura was deep in thought for the most part. Most likely due to what Tsunade had said to her. Itachi hadn’t been able to hear their conversation, but he’d seen Tsunade whisper into Sakura’s ear as she hugged her. He’d traced their conversation, his eyes reading their lips. 

Tsunade had thankfully only given her a warning, but she had still planted a seed of doubt in Sakura’s mind. If she was going to learn the truth, it needed to come from him, and he was strangely grateful that Tsunade had allowed him that. 

His mind drifted back to the conversation they’d shared only nine hours earlier. 

‘We need to talk.’

Tsunade propped her feet on the other chair by the hearth. Itachi didn’t move from his place on the futon. He didn’t want to cause unnecessary alarm, or wake his sleeping partner, but kept his Sharingan activated to anticipate her movements. 

‘Sakura could wake up,’ he warned. 

‘She won’t; her chakra is stupidly low right now. Foolish girl. She wasted it all on you.’ 

The distrust she held for him was glaringly obvious, and Itachi quickly put two and two together. ‘She healed me alone.’

‘Clearly,’ Tsunade retorted. ‘She told me about you, all those memories you’ve shown her. Your secret agenda.’ 

‘And?’ 

‘I’ve already told her, I refuse to get involved in whatever the two of you are planning.’ 

There was no doubt as to why. ‘Because I’m an Uchiha.’

‘Because I don’t trust you for a second.’  

This wasn’t all too unsurprising. She wasn’t without reason to distrust him; his father had turned her into an exile… a refugee in her own country. ‘I understand.’ 

‘No. Not quite.’ When he raised a brow in question, Tsunade scoffed. Her fist tightened in her lap. ‘I’m not stupid, Uchiha. I know what you did.’ 

Itachi’s breath stilled. 

He forced his expression into a facade of indifference. ‘I have no idea what you’re referring to.’ 

‘Yes,’ Tsunade said. ‘Yes you do. And you’re going to tell her the truth.’ 

Her words were stamped into his memory, impossible to ignore any further or push to one side under the number of poor excuses he’d already made for himself. There was no excuse for hiding it for so long. He’d thought for a while that it didn’t matter whether Sakura knew or not. But now that he’d developed certain feelings, whatever those feelings were, he knew that he had just been trying to avoid a difficult conversation. 

‘And you’re going to tell her the truth.’

There was also a bigger question at hand. How exactly did Tsunade know about the events of the past? She couldn’t possibly have been there when it happened. He would know. It was possible she had communicated with someone inside the village. 

Did she have spies? 

It couldn’t be ruled out. 

Even if she did, he hardly had any intention of doing anything about it. Tsunade was no enemy to Itachi, despite how lowly she thought of him. And so, as he leapt from branch to branch, he kept quiet. He felt Sakura’s gaze on his back every once in a while, probably wondering why he’d suddenly turned cold. It was for the best. For now, at least. Until he found the right opportunity to come clean, he’d have to settle for Tsunade’s words in his head, tearing into his conscience with every step he took. 

‘I know what you did.’

By the time Konoha’s gates came into view, Sakura was ready to jump into a hot shower and sprawl out on her couch. She wanted several days of pure comfort food and sleep. 

And deep down, to continue where they’d left off. 

But Itachi had been particularly quiet during the journey home. He administered instructions every now and then, but compared to the affection and care she’d felt from him earlier that morning, this Itachi was utterly professional. Sasuke’s elusive brother. Her captain. Nothing more, nothing less. 

He must have read Tsunade’s lips.

However, what Tsunade said was nothing surprising, even if it was harsh. She’d made her feelings about the Uchiha clan clear from the start, so perhaps it was something else that was bothering him. 

No matter. Itachi was an intensely private person. Sakura decided that she would let him work it out. If he wanted to talk about it, she would listen. If not, she had to respect that. 

They landed on the ground in front of the gates and approached the guards to report their return.

‘Names?’ One guard asked, though it seemed a little pointless. He was the Hokage’s first born son and she was the only pink haired medic in the village. 

‘Uchiha Itachi and Haruno Sakura,’ Itachi replied. 

The guard signed off something on a sheet of paper. However, before Sakura could take one step further, the guard held up one hand in the air, two fingers upright. 

A signal.  

She flinched back, almost stepping on Itachi’s toes as a squad of Anbu materialised in front of her. She felt Itachi push her behind him, his eyes violently crimson. ‘What is the meaning of this? Explain yourselves, now.’ 

Sakura looked at the unfeeling masks around her, feeling a stab of remembrance as the past bled into the here and now. Deja-vu was truly a terrifying thing. 

A muffled voice emanated from under a hawk mask as one of the officers stepped forward. 

‘Haruno Sakura, you’re under arrest for suspicion of treason against Konohagakure and the Uchiha clan.’ 

Chapter Text

‘I refuse.’ 

Fugaku didn’t look up from the desk. His eyes were fixed on the document in his hands, and it was impossible to discern whether he was displeased with Itachi’s decision, or whether he respected his son for taking a firm stance. Itachi had rushed here straight from the gate, hoping to talk his father out of the poor decision he had made regarding Sakura’s arrest. The Hokage’s office was empty aside from the two of them and the Anbu guards stationed outside. Itachi was glad of this; he could speak frankly to his father without holding back, or fear of others intervening. 

‘Itachi, this is a necessary precaution we must take. We must ensure the village is protected.’ 

Itachi tried to keep a lid on his frustrations, but it was difficult to ignore the fact that whilst he was having this conversation, Sakura was most likely suffering elsewhere. ‘I see no sense in holding Haruno Sakura under investigation when I can personally vouch for her innocence.’ 

‘You can’t vouch for every second of every day,’ his father pointed out. ‘She may have communicated with a certain traitor whilst you were separated.’ 

Sakura had, in fact, been in communication with a traitor. But so had he. She was no more guilty than he was. 

‘Hokage-sama. Father.’ This seemed to capture Fugaku’s attention. He finally looked up from the document. ‘We had a deal, and I refuse to participate in the torture of a comrade I know to be innocent. You’ve heard my mission report. There could be an attack on the village any day now, and this is simply a waste of time and resources. Haruno Sakura saved my life.’ 

Fugaku looked severely unconvinced. ‘I wouldn’t go that far. You were hardly in danger.’ 

‘It doesn’t matter. She still went out of her way to save me, your son. If she had ill-will against the village she would have intentionally left me there.’ 

Fugaku stashed the document away in a file, clearly disinterested in the conversation. ‘We need your eyes, Itachi.’

‘You can use anybody’s eyes to cast a genjutsu.’ 

‘Yours are superior.’ 

‘I won’t,’ Itachi said with finality. ‘Not this.’ 

There was a sigh as Fugaku tossed the file into a box by his desk. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘I see. You disappoint me, Itachi.’ 

Itachi swallowed, knowing that his current behaviour didn’t match the cruel facade he’d spent years maintaining. His father’s words burned, but this was nothing compared to what he was being asked to inflict on Sakura. 

‘In that case, I still require you to be present as supervisor,’ Fugaku said. ‘Where is Ibiki?’ 

‘He’s currently out of the village. However, Yamanaka Inoichi was an extremely skilled interrogator in his time. He was second only to Morino-san.’ 

Fugaku scowled at the idea. ‘I hate to resort to the bottom of the barrel. But if you’re going to cause problems, you’ve left me no choice. Find Yamanaka Inoichi and have him search her mind. If he refuses, his daughter pays the price for his defiance.’ 

Itachi nodded grimly as he left the office. If Inoichi refused, his daughter’s death would fall on Itachi’s shoulders.  

Stay calm. 

Stay calm. 

She didn’t know how long she’d been here. What felt like ropes rubbed coarsely into her wrists, leaving the skin raw. She’d tried to adjust her position in the steel chair several times now, but it only caused the rope to cut into her wrists and ankles. She could see nothing, however it didn’t seem that they had blindfolded her. It had to be a jutsu of some kind. 

‘Sit still.’ 

The voice came from somewhere to her left. Anbu? There was no way to tell. She tried to ask, but even when her tongue formed the words, nothing came out. Another jutsu. Knowing from previous experience what would inevitably come next, her heart jumped a little at the muffled voice she heard from somewhere around her. 

‘She’s in there?’ 

They’re talking about me?

Surely Itachi had to be fighting to get her out of here. He had to be. They were something more than friends now. Maybe?

Relax, Sakura, she tried to reason with herself. Itachi is probably at the Hokage’s office trying his best. 

All she could do was trust in him. Though she knew in reality that this decision had nothing to do with him, and if the Hokage ordered it, he couldn’t do anything to prevent the interrogation from happening. But she had other comrades too, right? Kakashi, Naruto and Sasuke wouldn’t stand for this. But at the same time, her team didn’t know she had returned from her mission yet. 

Sakura felt utterly miserable. 

She was trapped. 

And more worryingly, she had genuinely met and communicated with Tsunade. If the truth came out, she was dead. 

Inoichi wasn’t difficult to find. At one time he had been a keystone in Konoha’s torture and interrogation division, but now the man often remained holed up in the Yamanaka compound after what happened during the minor uprising several years ago. 

According to the Anbu squad Itachi had sent, Inoichi had been rather resistant to the idea of perusing Sakura’s memories, but after they made the consequences crystal clear, he’d unwillingly agreed. Itachi was glad his father had agreed to this. If anything, Sakura was extremely lucky. 

Inoichi walked into the private viewing room within the interrogation department, his  single hand clenched tightly by his side. He looked at the closed door to the cell. ‘She’s in there?’ 

Itachi had been anticipating Inoichi’s arrival for a while. But every second he’d spent waiting for this moment was a mere scratch compared to the timelessness that Sakura was surely plunged into. He knew the ins and outs of this department… how they made their subject suffer even before the interrogation itself started. 

Behind a glass panel was a separate cell with smooth walls and a low ceiling — the same cell in which many weeks ago, Itachi had watched a Kiri nin undergo a similar process. Currently, Sakura was tied to a steel chair, the spotlights turned to an uncomfortable brightness. Two Anbu were standing on either side of the cell, whilst the rest of the team was with Itachi in the observation room. 

‘Please.’ He gestured for Inoichi to come in further. ‘We require your expertise.’ 

Itachi wasn’t sure which mask to don. He couldn’t let his cold reputation slip in front of other Uchiha, yet the man in front of him had such gentle blue eyes and a nervous demeanour. A strong voice inside him was itching to reassure Inoichi that he was an ally. He chose to remain straightforward and as unreadable as possible, his Sharingan activated just for good measure. 

Inoichi’s eyes flickered to Sakura, then back again. ‘I retired from this division years ago. I’m not sure I can be of much use.’ 

‘I think we’ll be the judge of that,’ a separate voice added.

Itachi’s eyes slid coldly to his left. ‘Hiroshi.’  

Let him speak. 

Uchiha Hiroshi slid back to the corner from which he sprung. ‘My apologies, Itachi-sama.’ 

Itachi calmly turned back to Inoichi, and offered to take his jacket. Inoichi raised a brow at his, but shook his head. ‘I’m quite alright, thank you.’ 

‘Hokage-sama has requested for you to check Haruno Sakura’s memories of her recent mission to Kirigakure. You would just be ensuring she hasn’t communicated with any names on our blacklist.’ When Inoichi’s expression flashed with discomfort, Itachi added, ‘It’s a precaution.’ 

In his mind, Itachi silently begged that Inoichi would accept without having to be forced. Not only did he loathe the idea of having to cruelly manipulate him, but Inoichi was the only man in the village who could access a person’s memories without resorting to violence and intimidation. If he didn’t agree, not only would his family be in danger, but Sakura would be forced to endure a relentless barrage from the Sharingan until somebody decided she was actually telling the truth.

And he didn’t want to be that person. 

He couldn’t put her through something like that. There would be no fooling the other Uchiha watching either; with their Sharingan, they would know if he only pretended to use his eyes properly. 

Inoichi stared at Sakura’s silhouette on the other side of the glass. He blinked several times, then sharply inhaled. ‘I’ll do it.’ 

‘Very well,’ Itachi said. ‘I believe you’ve been informed of the consequences of disobeying Hokage-sama’s orders?’ 

Inoichi flinched a little, but the movement was so minute, Itachi could only see it due to his bloodline limit. ‘Yes. I’ve been told.’ 

‘And if we find out you are lying…’ he said, in warning. Although the irony wasn’t lost on Itachi. 

Please… Lie for Sakura. 

Itachi was counting on the fact that Inoichi’s family was close to Sakura, namely his only daughter. 

‘I know,’ Inoichi said. ‘You don’t have to remind me.’ 

A jutsu was cast over Inoichi — a jutsu that ensured he couldn’t lie. The doors to Sakura’s cell opened, allowing him inside. 

It was clear when someone entered, even if she couldn’t see what was happening. The atmosphere shifted slightly as someone approached her. Sakura could feel them standing in front of her. 

Her breath paused, waiting. She clenched her eyes shut, irrespective of the constant darkness. 

By now, she had expected to be assaulted by a range of gruesome images, for someone to lift the genjutsu so that she could look into their eyes. She still remembered the faceless Anbu mask of the person who had interrogated her at sixteen. 

Was it them? Was it the same person? 

She braced herself. 

Nothing happened.

Then all at once, something peculiar occurred. Without her control, all memories of her mission surfaced to the forefront of her mind, flicking back and forth one by one, as though they were pages of a book manipulated by an invisible hand. 

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t push them back down. She could feel the person. They were there, in her head, scanning and replaying her conversation with Itachi by the campfire of their way to Kirigakure… her horror at the sight of him coughing blood… sharing a bed at the inn… her work as Saika, and a small memory of her trying on different red lipsticks in search of the right shade… meeting Hitomi for the first time and having to learn the ropes at Mistress’ place… the attacker… 

Meeting Ichiro. 

The kiss in the hallway that turned into something more. The shrieks of the festival, and fireworks blazing over the river’s surface. Her fight, and the heartbreaking sight of someone she liked… loved?… curled up in pain in Orochimaru’s filthy cell. 

The cabin.

Itachi untying her obi and kissing every inch of her.

Tsunade. 

Sakura tried to pull her memories back, snatching them close to her chest like playing cards. But there was nothing she could do. Her cards were already on the table for all to see. 

The shinobi inspected them individually. She felt them linger on the memories of the cabin, and Tsunade’s final goodbye. Then just as a rubber band snaps into place, their presence suddenly pulled away, and Sakura gasped at the sudden emptiness that overwhelmed her head.  

‘She isn’t a traitor to Konoha.’ 

That voice. 

‘She befriended a civilian girl named Hitomi, but other than that, she did not communicate excessively with anyone other than Uchiha Itachi.’ 

Inoichi? 

It had to be. Now that she thought about it, only Ino’s father could perform such an extensive jutsu, entering and viewing an enemy’s mind without possessing it entirely. But his statement of her innocence. How could he lie so easily? She knew how these interrogations worked. Kakashi told her once that they can use jutsu to ensure that people can’t lie, whether that’s the victim or the interviewer. 

Another voice emerged out of the darkness. ‘Are you sure, Yamanaka-san? Is that your final say?’

Shivers ran along the back of her exposed arms. 

That was Itachi’s voice. Itachi’s voice. Itachi’s. 

She barely registered any of the sounds around her as Inoichi stood up. Everything seemed to collapse under the knowledge that Itachi was the one supervising this interrogation, even if he wasn’t performing it. 

Her heart stung, as though grazed. 

Is this what you meant, Shishou? 

Was there another side to him that she had yet to see? She barely had time to ponder the thought, as Inoichi cleared his throat. This time he spoke louder. More assured. 

‘Haruno Sakura has done nothing wrong.’ 

‘How can you be so sure of that, Yamanaka-san?’ Itachi’s voice again. 

‘Because she saved your life,’ Inoichi replied testily. 

There was a tense silence. A buzzing noise sounded from somewhere behind a wall, then Inoichi seemed to leave the room. Nobody spoke to her as they released the blinding jutsu, and she had to squint at the streaming light around her. Nor did they speak as the two Anbu in the cell untied the ropes around her wrists and ankles. It was just as well, because despite all of her senses having returned to her in full, all Sakura could hear was the sound of Itachi’s voice, and the betrayal that accompanied it.

It was early afternoon when they let her go quite suddenly, as though ashamed at having apprehended the woman who saved the Hokage’s son and heir. Sakura didn’t see Itachi anywhere in the building as she left. She returned home to her small apartment, glad for its quiet even if a layer of dust had built up in the time she had been gone. 

She looked around, taking in her couch, the coffee table, the books on the sideboard. And the vase of paperwhite narcissi on the windowsill, now crisp and drooping. 

For once, she didn’t know what to do with herself. 

Blinking at her reflection in the hall mirror, she took in the stranger staring back with tangled hair, dirty clothes and bags under her eyes. Without making any particular decision about it, Sakura migrated to the bathroom, stripping off her travelling clothes one by one. She showered, almost blind to the fact that the water scalded her shoulders and knees. Once cleaned off, she reached for her comfortable clothing and dressing gown, and soon found herself lying on the couch, wondering where to go from here. 

She looked down at her wrists where weals had formed from the friction of the ropes. She ran a finger down one of the marks, feeling the hurt there. The chakra ropes… were they standard policy or had they been his decision? 

It didn’t take long to heal the marks, and soon her wrists and ankles were free from blemish and burn. But she could still feel them. The day had brought back so many memories. A past she’d rather forget, but couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. 

She closed her eyes, leaning back into the couch. She felt herself drift off, her dream bleeding with the sights and sounds from years ago. Behind her lids, her mind flashed with Anbu, red and black… the blood of visions that were forced upon her… the faceless mask. All she had been able to detect was a Sharingan glaring out of the eyeholes. They were cold, watching her scream as her mind collapsed. 

A knock at the door pulled her back to wakefulness. 

She blinked, rubbing her eyes groggily. The chakra signatures in the hall outside her front door confirmed that she wasn’t hearing things. 

A knock sounded again. 

This time Sakura heaved herself up, still half dreaming, and opened the door to find three familiar faces that had arrived to her rescue a little too late. Naruto beamed at her, and beside him Sasuke shifted with his hands in his pockets. Kakashi hovered behind the two. His lone eye narrowed when he took in her appearance, perhaps the first to realise something was wrong. 

‘Sakura-chan!’ Naruto’s smile flickered. ‘Did something happen?’ 

Sakura didn’t even know how to answer such a question. It wasn’t his fault, but the way Naruto smiled at her so ignorantly only added salt to her wounds. ‘How did you all know I was back?’ 

‘My brother.’ Sasuke tilted his head. Just like Kakashi, he seemed to clock Sakura’s minute flinch at his reply. ‘He arrived home, so I just assumed…’ 

The silence was eating her alive. She hadn’t yet invited them in, and awkwardly held the door open as they filed inside. 

‘Wow, Sakura-chan.’ Naruto looked around the room, rubbing his nose. ‘This place is kind of dusty, you know.’ 

‘I’ve been gone for weeks, Naruto,’ she replied brusquely. ‘What the hell did you expect?’ She hadn’t realised just how harsh her tone had been until all three faces stared at her curiously. The guilt came flooding in immediately after. ‘I… sorry, I didn’t mean that.’ 

Kakashi sat down on the armchair near the couch. ‘What happened?’ 

‘Did my brother do something?’ Sasuke asked. He leaned against the wall. 

‘No. Well.. yes.’ She threw herself back down on the couch. ‘I don’t know.’ 

She registered Naruto appear at her side, one arm looping around her shoulders. How could she even begin? The mission itself was fine, some parts of it more than fine, but she couldn’t explain the betrayal she suffered without explaining the sort-of relationship she’d struck with Itachi. There was no way she could tell Sasuke everything that had happened. He had no idea about the arrangement between her and Itachi, or the feelings she held for him. He would explode if he knew. 

What do I tell them?

She stared at her knees. ‘I was arrested at the gate.’ 

There was a sharp exhale, though she couldn’t be sure if it was from Kakashi or Sasuke. ‘Arrested for what?’ It was Kakashi. 

‘They said it was a precautionary measure, to make sure I wasn’t betraying Konoha. A whole Anbu squad just appeared. Itachi-san seemed confused at the time. They held me in a cell for hours, and after they looked through my memories the supervisor in charge was speaking to the interviewer. I recognised Itachi-san’s voice.’ 

Naruto’s arm tightened around her shoulders. Sasuke was the first to speak. 'My brother watched while you were tortured?’ 

‘I don’t know if tortured is the right word. It wasn’t like last time. Nobody used the Sharingan on me. They just looked through my memories. I couldn’t see anything, but I’m pretty sure it was Inoichi-san.’ 

She spared a glance up, seeing that Kakashi was rigid in the armchair. Occasionally, his eye looked across to Sasuke, as though he didn’t want to say anything about the Hokage that would aggravate his student. 

Sasuke looked utterly torn, and Naruto had gone strangely silent — a miracle for someone like him. Although she felt his fingers tremble around her shoulder, then a hiss sounded by her ear. 

‘I’ll kill them,’ Naruto whispered. ‘I’ll kill them all.’ 

‘Don’t be so overdramatic, Dobe. Let me handle this.' Sasuke's expression darkened considerably. 'I'll talk to him.’ 

For once, Sakura didn’t believe Naruto was being overdramatic at all. From the silent shaking of his body next to hers, and the way his arm clutched her shoulders tightly, she truly believed Naruto meant every word he said. 

Her fist knocked the door three times, then she lowered it. 

She walked away from the steps, circled around the path, deep in thought, before approaching the door again. 

The Yamanaka compound was quiet at the time of the afternoon, and the only smoke that rose from chimneys came from the bakery where Ino sometimes went to fetch bread on a weekend. She knew it probably wasn’t wise to leave her apartment so soon, especially after what happened. They would likely be keeping an eye on her movements. But she couldn’t just sit in an empty space all day. Not too long after her teammates left, Sakura had thrown on her jacket and headed out.  

She needed someone to talk to. Someone who knew at least some of the truth. 

She raised her fist again, and the door opened to reveal the very person she’d been hoping to see. Ino was dressed in her comfy clothes, a tank top and pants, and without even so much as a ‘good afternoon’, bundled Sakura up into a hug. 

‘My dad told me what happened,’ she said, leading them both back inside the house where it was warm and safe. Ino took her upstairs, ensuring that she locked her bedroom door behind them. Instead of sitting on the rug like they did as children, Ino crawled into the double bed. Sakura followed suit, and only when she was lying  face to face with her best friend under the softness of the duvet did she allow herself to cry. 

‘Oh Sakura.’ Ino brushed her hair back from her face, rolling over to grab a tissue from the bedside table. 

‘I don’t know what I did,’ Sakura sobbed, stifling a hiccup. ‘I don’t know why Sasuke-kun’s dad hates me this much.’ 

Ino dabbed Sakura’s face with the tissue. ‘I know. It’s frustrating, but it’s over now though. You’re back.’ 

Sakura shook her head as new tears welled up. ‘Itachi was supervising the interrogation.’ 

‘What—’ The tissue crumpled under Ino’s fist ‘the hell.’ 

‘Yeah… but not just that.’ Sakura realised how much she’d left out. ‘It gets worse.’ 

She told Ino about the mission, glossing over any specific details about the attack planned on Konoha. She described the kiss in the hall, the festival, the fireworks, and even the cabin. All the while, Ino’s mouth fell open. 

‘There’s something seriously wrong with him.’ Ino’s hand reached for Sakura’s under the duvet. ‘If it were me, I’d get the hell out of whatever you’ve got going on between you. I don’t care what greater good situation he put you in, you need to step away. He’s not trustworthy.’  

Sakura knew she meant well, but Ino didn’t understand everything. ‘I can’t, Pig. It’s not as simple as that.’ 

‘Why not? Just tell him you’ve changed your mind. What’s he going to do, arrest you?’ When Sakura flinched, she added, ‘sorry, too soon.’  

‘I love him,’ Sakura said. ‘Or maybe I like him. I don’t know yet. I just know I have feelings for him that I never had for Sasuke-kun when we were younger.’ 

Ino looked momentarily stunned. ‘Wow, Forehead. I mean… that’s big.’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

They spent who knows how long simply chatting, just happy to take comfort in one another. Sakura quite enjoyed tracing Ino’s ceiling with her eyes, all the smudges of uneven paint and little incisions from where Ino had defiantly practiced with Shiruken in her bedroom whilst grounded. 

After a while Sakura said, ‘If it’s okay, I’m just going to get a glass of water. My head’s pounding from all the crying.’ 

‘Sure,’ Ino said. ‘Bring one for me too, will you?’ 

Sakura nodded and headed downstairs to the kitchen. She was in the process of filling a glass of water for Ino when the front door opened and someone appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. Inoichi was standing there, looking at her intensely as if he expected her to run away. Sakura remembered everything he had seen in her head, and suddenly felt exposed like this before him. An imposter in his house. 

‘Inoichi-san, I…’ 

‘Sakura, there’s no need. If anything, I must apologise for my involvement this morning,’ he said, looking away uncomfortably. ‘When they showed up at the door, I refused to go with them, of course.’ He hesitated. ‘They threatened to…’ 

Ino. 

‘I understand.’ Sakura shut off the tap and placed Ino’s glass of water on the counter by her own, not knowing how to broach the elephant in the room. 

‘Your memories.’ He moved closer, leaning against the worktop beside her as he lowered his voice to a kind whisper. ‘They’re safe. I have no intention of telling anyone about you and Uchiha, or the plans you’ve made.’ 

Sakura’s knees buckled a little with relief. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Though I don’t know how you got away with lying. I’m pretty sure they normally put people under a jutsu.’ 

‘They did,’ he replied. ‘But I didn’t lie.’

Sakura looked at him, silently asking for an explanation. 

‘A person only lies when they go against what they believe to be true. It’s my belief that you haven’t done anything wrong,’ he said. ‘You might have betrayed the Uchiha clan, but you haven’t betrayed Konoha.’  

Sakura’s eyes blurred with new tears. She rubbed them away with the back of her hand. ‘I didn’t intend for things to happen this way. With me. Or Itachi.’  

Inoichi’s brow raised at her use of first-names. He looked at her strangely. ‘I admit, I’m a little surprised, considering the history between the two of you.’ 

Between them, Sakura felt she was the one who was the most surprised.

History? 

Inoichi studied her reaction, coming to the correct conclusion. ‘You don’t remember, do you?’

Itachi was sitting by the coffee table, reading through a scroll with his Sharingan. There was a cup of tea steaming before him and the scent of his mother’s cooking drifted in from down the hall. His father was still in his office, but Itachi had returned home rather quickly, intending to write down as much detail as he could remember about the base the Kiri nin had used to keep him captive. 

Names, location, even small slips that he’d heard them mention — it was all relevant, no matter how frivolous it seemed. 

However, the moment of concentration was disrupted. The front door slammed, causing the whole house to tremble. 

Ah… 

Footsteps stalked the hall, and ignoring the call from their mother asking him what on earth was going on, Sasuke soon appeared in the front room. As expected. 

‘Itachi.’ 

Itachi looked up. Sasuke must have been angry if he was referring to him by name rather than the usual ‘Aniki’. In fact, now that he was truly looking at his brother without his Sharingan activated, he realised just how much his eyes had started to deteriorate again. It was time he saw one of the specialised medics they had at the hospital. Sasuke’s features were blurred, but even without perfect vision he could see the fury radiating from him. 

‘Sasuke.’ 

He chose to remain calm, which only seemed to infuriate Sasuke more. ‘Tell me what happened.’ 

‘You know I can’t do that. It’s confidential.’ 

‘Like hell it is!’ Sasuke scoffed. ‘You let them torture my teammate.’  

If not for his poor eyesight, Itachi would have immediately noticed the blurred silhouette of their mother in the doorway. She had come to see what all the fuss was about, and in her readiness to admonish them for the noise, she had overheard Sasuke’s last statement. When he realised himself, Sasuke froze and turned to where their mother was standing, her mouth seemingly open in shock. 

Really, Sasuke? 

‘Itachi-kun?’ 

Mikoto’s eyes turned to him, and Itachi felt bad that she’d now become involved in this inane argument. Sensing that Sasuke was about to speak again, he raised a hand, silencing any potential interruption. 

‘Haruno Sakura was apprehended at the gates after our mission. I had nothing to do with it. Father has explained that it was simply a precaution.’ He glanced at Sasuke, eyes narrowed. ‘She wasn’t tortured. We simply looked through her memories. That’s all.’ 

Mikoto seemed to accept this, even if she did so uneasily. ‘Well, as long as she wasn’t hurt—‘ 

Sasuke whirled around, causing their mother to jump a little. ‘Obviously she was hurt. You really think you have to make someone suffer in a genjutsu for it to be classed as torture—’  

‘Sasuke.’ 

Itachi saw red for a second. 

He also saw Sasuke bristle, but fall silent. As much as he loved his little brother, Sasuke was far too rash for his own good. Clearly Sasuke had paid Sakura a visit some time this afternoon, and something about her state had caused him to become concerned. Sasuke had never been very good at handling things rationally. He had a horrible habit for jumping to conclusions. Perhaps it was time for him to stop by Sakura’s apartment too. After all, his little brother's comment had hit too close to home, even if Sasuke hadn’t known. 

Itachi stood and turned to his foolish baby brother. ‘There are some matters that just don’t concern you, and this is one of them.’ 

‘But—‘ 

Itachi brushed past him and made to the staircase. ‘This is the end of the conversation.’  Before he headed upstairs, he gave his mother a reassuring smile. ’I’m going out. Go ahead and eat without me.’ 

Sakura felt sick. She tightened her dressing gown and paced across the kitchen. The tiles were cold against her bare feet, but she barely noticed. She placed the full kettle on the stove and lit the gas, then retied her dressing gown and paced the length of the small kitchen once more. 

The sky was dark outside, and according to the clock it was nearly nine thirty. Earlier that day, Inoichi hadn’t elaborated any further, leaving her with more questions than answers, questions that burned holes through her mind and left her with a crippling sense of doubt. 

‘You don’t remember?’ 

‘Remember what?’ 

Inoichi sighed. ‘It’s been a long time since I was called to assist in the division. I won’t have been the Hokage’s first choice. You should ask Uchiha Itachi about it.’ He seemed unsure then. ’Perhaps ask him about what happened during your first arrest.’ 

Between Tsunade and Inoichi, she had a horrible feeling she was missing something obvious. Something that Itachi knew but had kept from her this whole time, even after asking for her hand in marriage so brazenly. 

What have I missed?

The kettle whistled, and Sakura poured herself a cup of the chamomile tea Ino had given her that afternoon. It was good for the nerves, apparently. Cradling her tea, Sakura re-entered the living room. She set the tea on the coffee table, then paused.  

‘What are you doing?’ 

The shadow in the corner of the room shifted, merging into a new shape as he stepped out. He was wearing casual clothing, a black shirt and loose pants, but there was still something oddly intimidating about him at this moment. His Sharingan. He had it activated.  

She pursed her lips. ‘I don’t have enough chakra to heal your lungs. They drained me of most of it this morning.’ 

‘That’s not why I came,’ Itachi said. 

Sakura stared at the carpet. She couldn’t face him, knowing that he had been a part of it all. The air shifted as he moved closer until he was right next to her. She felt his hands hover near her waist, hoping to touch her, but never actually making contact. 

‘Please believe me, Sakura, I didn’t know that my father would go back on the deal we made when I recommended you for the mission.’ 

‘You were there. You were telling them what to do.’ 

‘I was made to supervise,’ he said. ‘That’s all.’ 

Sakura took a shaky breath as she remembered her conversation with Ino’s father earlier. She knew she had to ask, but she was terrified of what the answer could be. 

‘I went to the Yamanaka compound earlier to see my best friend,’ she said. ‘While I was there, Inoichi-san told me something. He said that he probably wasn’t the Hokage’s first choice as the interrogator.’ 

‘He wasn’t.’

She looked at him then, tensing as she realised just how close they were. ‘Who was the first choice, Itachi?’ 

Itachi’s expression was one she’d never seen before. His eyes had changed to the three pinwheels of his Mangekyou Sharingan. The same Sharingan that she had seen in Orochimaru’s cave as he’d stood victorious over Takeshi’s body. She tried to suppress a shudder of fear at the sight, but she mustn’t have covered it up very well as his brow furrowed with worry and his mouth turned down at one corner.

‘I was.’ 

Sakura nodded slowly. ‘And why did your father want it to be you?’ 

‘Because every Sharingan is different,’ he said quietly, even though they were alone. ‘You remember what I said about Shisui’s Kotoamatsukami? Danzo sought it out because it was unique to Shisui alone. He would have gone to the ends of the earth just to get his hands on it.’  

Sakura remembered Shisui’s death as though the memories had been her own. 

‘Some Uchiha have abilities that only they can use,’ Itachi said. ‘Kotoamatsukami is an example of that. My Mangekyou Sharingan has certain abilities as well. So much so that people have tried to take my eyes before.’

Then he went very, very still. Sakura waited and waited, each second a new agony as she connected the dots.  

‘When you were arrested at sixteen, the Anbu captain who interrogated you used a genjutsu to break you down mentally, emotionally, until you told the truth.’ 

Her clothes were sticking to her back, every muscle poised as the image of the faceless Anbu flashed in her mind. Cold. Calculating. Completely emotionless as he stared down at her though the holes in his mask, inflicting hours — no, days of pain — interspersed with real physical blows that left her body bruised and unmovable for weeks afterwards.  

‘You don’t need to tell me,’ she whispered. ‘It was Tsukuyomi.’ 

‘Yes. The same jutsu I used to show you my memories of the past.’

Sakura awaited his next sentence, unable to do anything but stare into the spikes of his eyes, fear prickling her every nerve. 

‘The only person who can perform Tsukuyomi,’ he said, ‘is me. I was the one who tortured you all those years ago.’  

Chapter Text

The next few seconds moved frame by frame, a blurred slow motion of reality. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he saw Sakura recoil, her expression twisting in horror as she tried to get away. 

Away from him. 

As she did, her foot caught one of the legs of the coffee table. His hands instinctively reached for her as she fell, but the angle between the couch and the table was narrow. Even though he caught her, holding her body firmly against his, he couldn’t prevent her forehead from smacking the edge of the tabletop. 

She cried out. 

He saw her hands reach up, desperate to grab something. Anything. However, in doing so, she knocked the mug on the table, splashing scalding tea all over Itachi’s shin and calf, some dripping to the carpet and leaving a deep brown stain. 

He groaned, biting back a curse. 

And that was all it took, apparently, for Sakura to suddenly remember what he had just said. 

She shoved him away — the chakra in her hands left him breathless, but didn’t hurt — and scrambled back against the wall. There was a line of blood dribbling from a cut just above her brow and her stance was defensive. Itachi pulled himself to his feet. He quickly forgot the tender sting of his leg when he realised that she had somehow procured a kunai. Her eyes were focused entirely on him, wide as a doe’s, and Itachi was a little stunned to see her behaving like a cornered animal in his presence. 

This fear, he realised, it’s genuine. You truly are afraid of me.

The realisation shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. But this was Sakura. Sakura who he’d feared for, and wanted to protect dearly. Sakura who had been his saving grace, who was unashamedly passionate about following her heart. 

Sakura who, he now realised with astounding clarity, he’d fallen hopelessly in love with. 

And all he could do was plead with her. ‘Sakura, please.’  

He tried to step forward, but she slashed the kunai through the space between them. ‘Stay away from me!’

Realistically, the kunai posed no threat to him, and if he really wanted to he could easily disable her. But that would only cause her to fear him more. The best thing to do was to let Sakura feel as though she was in perfect control, whilst proving that he wasn’t going to harm her. 

Not her. He never could. Not anymore. 

He tried raising his empty hands, making a show of it and even looking away in hopes it would help her feel comfortable. ‘Sakura, believe me when I say that I was a very different person then. In the past I was following everything my father ordered me to do. I was an empty shell of myself. I didn’t even know why I was doing it. But as the man I am today, I’m incapable of hurting you.’

There was an uneasy silence, before she whispered something under her breath, and Itachi felt his resolve crumble. 

’You just did.’ 

And there it was. 

She’s not wrong. 

When he shifted, she raised the kunai again, but her stance was all wrong. Even he could see that her heart wasn’t in it — she had no intention of fighting him. There was a sniffle, and Itachi swallowed thickly, knowing that it was entirely his fault. He had done this. 

‘You tricked me,’ she said. There was a slight whimper to her voice. ‘You lied to me this whole time.’ 

‘I thought you knew,’ he replied as softly as he could. ‘I thought you knew that Tsukuyomi was unique to me. That’s why I was surprised, back then, when you asked me to show you the past. It’s why I tried to dissuade you.’ 

‘You must have realised at some point. You still could have told me the truth.’ 

‘I wanted to. I just didn’t know how.’ 

The sniffles turned into sobs, her fingers quivering around the kunai. Itachi’s instincts screamed at him to embrace her, even kiss her, but it would only make things horribly worse. She was now furiously wiping away her tears with the back of her hands, smearing some of the blood that dripped down her face in the process.

‘Sakura, please just let me help you. You’re injured.’ 

Her whole body shook, trying to force the words out between heaving gasps. ’I c-can’t believe I t-trusted you. I can’t b-believe I l-let you in.’  

Her words crushed him deep inside, but he had to do something. She was bleeding horribly and he couldn’t leave her in such a state. 

‘Even if you never trust me again,’ he said carefully, ‘let me help you this one time.’ 

Sakura continued to weep into her hands, offering no reply. 

With trepidation, Itachi approached her. He touched her knuckles, and when there was no reaction, pulled her hands gently from her face so that he could inspect the gash on her temple with featherlight fingertips. It was small, but deeper than expected, which would explain the steady stream of blood oozing from the edges. However, it didn’t look like it needed stitches. 

His fingers reached for the tissue in his pocket in hopes of dabbing away the blood. But after noting Sakura’s green eyes tracking his every movement, he thought better of it. He focused his mind, and a warm chakra hummed in his hands, the feint glow reminiscent of her own medical ninjutsu. He fed the chakra into the wound, forcing the raw edges to knit back together, although the actual technique of it didn’t come naturally to him.  

He chanced a glance down at her face. The lost look in her eyes had been replaced with wariness and mild bewilderment at the fact that he was using medical ninjutsu. He had copied her techniques with his Sharingan, however Itachi was highly aware that he didn’t have Sakura’s perfect chakra control, and so rather than the seamless healing that she could have performed, his own attempt left her temple with a flat pink scar. He brushed the pad of his thumb against the mark, wishing he could have done a better job. 

Itachi’s gut twisted at the sight of her unshed tears, and how she seemed to be trying not to fall apart right then and there. Inching his hands slowly to cradle her head, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

It was time he left before he could do any further damage. 

‘I’m not going to ask for forgiveness,’ he mumbled against her skin. ‘Please just know how incredibly sorry I am, Sakura.’ 

With those parting words, he disappeared from her apartment.  

The compound was alive with the trill of crickets. The streets were silent under the waxing moon, and a thick mist swamped the pavements. Occasionally, the night was broken by the stirring of a bird nesting under the eaves of a roof, but most houses were devoid of light as if they too were sleeping. Despite this, Itachi’s bedside lamp glowed with a furious yellow light. 

The burn marring his shin and calf stung, but he did his best to ignore the sensation. Right now, his mind was elsewhere. 

As was his heart. 

He was held hostage by the memories of her tears, her cries. All the upset he’d caused her. It was all at odds with the vague memories from nearly ten years ago. As much as it disgusted him, he could still feel the crack of her femur snapping under his hands. He could still hear her screams. She was bleeding back then, too. He remembered cutting off chunks of her long hair with a kunai, trying every angle that he could to bring her to the point of breakdown. 

The thought left him queasy.  

He needed to at least try and make amends. But there was no point. No words he could say would even come close. 

He needed to give her space. And time. 

So, perhaps for selfish reasons more than anything else, Itachi’s hand gravitated to the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a sheet of letter paper and a pen. His hand roved on its own, each character, each kanji imprinted with the depth of his feelings for her. The air was filled with the scratching of ink against paper. 

When he was finished, Itachi’s eyes absorbed the words on the page. He had never been particularly good at conveying his emotions in their truest extent. But this was perhaps the closest he had ever come. 

But he couldn’t send it. 

Not now. 

It was far too soon. He was sure she wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. 

Perhaps one day he would send it. For now, he would have to keep it stashed away until the right time came. He folded the paper carefully and placed it into a blank envelope. On his desk lay the scroll that he carried with him for most of his missions. The scroll contained everything he’d ever need for survival: pack, rations, soldier pills, weapons. Right now it also contained the hairpin. He’d held onto it all this time, still waiting for the perfect moment to gift it. With several hand signs, he stashed the letter away in the scroll. 

A part of him wished he’d had access to his scroll earlier that night. He could have patched up Sakura’s injury properly rather than do such a botched job. 

She was scarred now, physically and mentally.

It’s all my fault. 

With a new set of hand signs, he pulled the scroll open a little further and retrieved a small first aid kit. When he peeled back the fabric of his trouser leg, the damage didn’t look too bad. There was a large, angry burn spreading from the top of his knee to half way down his calf. In the grand scheme of things, this was nothing compared to previous injuries he’d sustained. Itachi opened a small tub of ointment, grimacing at the strong scent.  

The bedroom door creaked open. His eyes slid across. 

‘You’re back late, hm?’ He didn’t react when his mother sat on the bed beside him. Her eyes zeroed in on the burn. ‘It’s not like you to get injured so easily.’ 

‘I’m all right Oka-san. Somebody just spilled tea on me.’ 

It wasn’t a lie, per se. She took the tub ointment from his hands and with one finger started dabbing it on the burn. The soothing effect was instant, and he let out a long exhale. 

His mother didn’t normally enter his room at this time. After all, he was a grown man, and whilst it was tradition for many generations to live in the same family home, Itachi knew his mother respected his privacy and would normally be in bed by now. 

Unless something’s bothering her.

‘You didn’t really do it,’ she probed, ‘what Sasuke-kun said earlier. Right, Itachi-kun?’

Of course.  

‘I can’t say I wasn’t involved. I did my best to make sure she wasn’t physically hurt.’ 

Mikoto sighed, working the ointment into his burn. He let her have this moment; she probably quite enjoyed feeling like a mother to a young child again. ‘That’s good to hear. I do think your father is too harsh on Sakura-chan sometimes. She’s such a sweet girl, really. I still remember when she’d come over for dinner wearing a kimono.’ 

Itachi remembered those times too. He even recalled one evening in which Team Seven had been invited over for dinner and Sakura had accidentally opened the door to his bedroom, having found herself lost on the way to the bathroom. Back then, he’d spoken to her harshly, treating her like an imbecile who was head over heels with his otouto. It was strange how times had changed. Having tuned out his mother’s ramblings, he froze when he realised what she was talking about. 

‘—and you know, Itachi-Kun, just between you and me, there was a time when I wondered whether she and Sasuke-kun would end up together.’ 

He slowly rolled down his trouser leg. ‘Together?’ 

‘It was just a thought,’ Mikoto said dismissively. ‘And besides, everyone knows it’s not proper.’ 

Proper…

The word stuck out like a thorn. 

Not proper for two teammates, or not proper for an Uchiha and a clanless kunoichi? 

‘Are you against the idea?’ He asked. ‘As in, Uchiha marrying outside of the clan?’ 

She turned her face away, but Itachi had already seen her wistful expression. ‘Oh I don’t think your father would be too happy. I’m quite sure he’d find some way to stop it from going ahead.’ 

Itachi watched her wordlessly as she screwed on the lid of the ointment and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. They both seemed to know that she hadn’t really answered his question. 

Morning cast its shadow over the bedroom. The thick layer of dust still coated her dresser, her desk, the windowsill. But Sakura couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it. The lock on the window was still intact. Sakura’s eyes hadn’t left it all night. She was huddled under her duvet, unable to stop her active mind from replaying the night’s events. 

‘I thought you knew.’

He’d said it so helplessly. But how could she possibly have known? She knew the name of the jutsu — Tsukuyomi. It was the same technique she’d asked him to use to show her the past. She’d heard from Sasuke once how it worked, and he’d praised it as the ultimate Genjutsu, talking of its use in battle at rendering an enemy defenceless all within the span of a millisecond. Nobody had ever mentioned that it was Itachi’s jutsu and his alone. 

‘I know you can use that technique.’ 

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ 

He could have mentioned it. Surely he must have realised that she would never ask him to do such a thing knowing that he had been the one to use it against her in the past. 

‘You shouldn’t move so hastily. If anything, you should know the side effects of the Tsukuyomi better than anyone.’ 

Every memory filled her with a fresh new layer of rage. At what point did he realise that she had no idea? At what point did he actually consider telling her? 

The scar on her temple was starting to itch, the fresh skin sensitive against the rough cotton pillowcase. She’d washed away the blood last night, but the scar still remained. It would always remain. A part of her begrudged the fact that he had left her with this ugly mark. It was a sign of their fight. A symbol of the hurt he’d caused. 

And yet, he’d tried to heal her. 

He’d healed her knowing that it wasn’t his forte. His touch still tingled on her skin, the way his fingertips gingerly assessed the cut, as though he was afraid of making it worse. 

How could somebody who broke your bones systematically with his bare hands and entrapped you within days of pain, suddenly become so afraid of breaking you? Itachi had mentioned something about being a different man back then. But how could she trust in that when he had kept the truth from her for so long? 

Sakura pulled the duvet further around her head and shoulders. Thankfully she had a few days off to recover from the mission to Kiri, and if she could avoid running into him, she would. 

The longer she stared at the lock on the window the more her eyes grew hazy, slowly shutting, and she was helpless to stop it. Sleep was so tempting, so sweet, the way it pulled her into unconsciousness. 

That was, until a dark silhouette blocked the daylight. 

Sakura’s eyes flew open. She tensed all over, then relaxed when she saw Sasuke’s familiar scowl as he crouched on a tree branch. He used tendrils of his chakra to force open the lock from the outside and climbed through the frame, dropping to his feet in her room. 

She wrapped herself further in the duvet, concealing her face. How was she supposed to look him in the eye? She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.  

‘I came to see how you were,’ he said simply. Sasuke ignored the fact that she didn’t respond. She felt the bed dip as he sat down next to where she was hiding. ‘Nii-san went out last night. I had a bad feeling he came here.’ 

Sakura flinched a little under the duvet. Sasuke must have felt it. 

‘I thought so.’ 

At last, Sakura pulled the duvet away from her face. His eyes were drawn to it immediately. His fingers reached out, the tips brushing the jagged mark above her brow. 

‘He did this?’

Sakura bit her lip. What could she tell him? She couldn’t reveal that she had fallen in love with his brother and that she was utterly heartbroken. He cared passionately for his team, yet he was also a child of the Uchiha clan, instilled with all their values and patriotism.

Right now, he was looking at her with burning eyes. ’Sakura, tell me. I need to know if he gave you this.’ 

Yes, Sasuke was also her close friend. And she needed him right now. However, there was another question on her mind. A question that rose to the surface until she couldn’t hold it down. 

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried desperately to stop crying. He looked utterly taken aback, unsure of what to do. 

‘Sasuke-kun…’ she struggled to get the words out. ‘Did you know?’ 

He frowned. ‘About…?’ 

She blinked away the tears. ‘When I was first arrested. Did you know that he used Tsukuyomi on me? Did you know he was the one who interrogated me?’

The temperature of the room seemed to drop a few degrees, and Sakura shivered as she searched his reaction for any sign of the truth she so desperately craved.  

Sasuke went very, very pale. 

Then ever so gradually, the charcoal of his eyes began to swirl with crimson. 

‘What?’ 

Sakura leaned up, grabbing his forearm. He didn’t seem to stop her. ‘You didn’t know, right? Please tell me you didn’t know.’ 

She had to know this. She couldn’t be betrayed by Sasuke, not her Sasuke. But as it turned out, he didn’t need to say it verbally. She could see from his reaction that he had no idea about his brother’s activities. He was staring at her in total disbelief. 

‘He used Tsukuyomi on you…’ He said slowly under his breath. ‘He used Tsukuyomi on you.’ 

‘He told me last night,’ she said, her eyes filling with new tears. She hated the fact that she couldn’t seem to stop them coming. ‘It was him. He was the Anbu captain who did it.’ 

She saw Sasuke’s hand curl into a fist, his knuckles stark white. His Sharingan glowed with more anger than she had ever seen Sasuke express. Normally he was so reserved about it, but this time… 

‘He broke your bones, right?’ He looked at her sharply. ‘When he interrogated you. I remember the doctor saying you had fractures and bruising all over.’ 

She nodded hesitantly. There was a look on her teammate’s face that she didn’t like… As though he was out for blood. He stood up from the bed, taking her off guard. And when Sakura asked where he was going, the sheer darkness of his tone left goosebumps prickling up and down her bare arms. 

‘To settle a debt.’ 

A debt? 

Surely he didn’t mean…

Before Sasuke could move, Sakura grabbed his sleeve. He looked at her, confounded, then tried to shake his sleeve free.  

‘Please,’ Sakura whispered. Her eyes slid to the lock on the window. ‘He could come back. I’m so tired, Sasuke-kun.’ 

She didn’t need him to settle any debt for her. What she needed was to rest. 

To forget.

‘Please, just stay.’ 

At first she thought Sasuke hadn’t really understood, but then he sat back down on the edge of the bed, sighing. His jaw was still clenched, but he didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. She finally released his sleeve. 

‘If that’s what you want,’ he said. ‘Sleep, Sakura. I’ll be here.’ 

And with his calming presence by her side, that’s exactly what she did. 

If the tension in the Hokage’s office had been at its worst when Itachi had pleaded for Sakura’s freedom, it was now at breaking point. Itachi was standing in the centre, his whole body already burdened with the new responsibility he had been afforded. For once, Fugaku had dismissed his near-constant stream of paperwork and was staring his eldest son in the eye.

‘You have one month.’ 

Itachi’s jaw clenched. He didn’t dare show any further reaction, any smidge of his apprehension. ‘Hokage-sama, I’m not sure now is really the time for this. Consider Kirigakure’s impending attack. The village would be caught off guard.’

‘I’m aware,’ Fugaku said. 

‘There will likely be another war on the horizon. If we go ahead as planned, we’d only be handing our enemies an opportunity to strike.’ 

Itachi wished that his father would listen to him for once. And for the first time in years, Fugaku’s facade lifted, revealing a haggardness that hadn’t been visible before now. Somehow, the lines in his father’s face appeared more pronounced, the wrinkle between his brows deeper, more crooked. 

And yet, he still persists.  

‘Kirigakure is a worry,’ the Hokage said. ‘Especially if Danzo has, in fact, taken the place of the Mizukage. And the nerve of him to partner with that snake, Orochimaru, of all people.’ 

The partnership, although surprising, was understandable. Whilst both Danzo and Orochimaru held obvious differences in their values and methods, they were bound together by the same goal: to finally possess the Sharingan. 

‘They always did come after our eyes,’ Fugaku said, irritably. 

‘Then you can see that it would be poor timing. We would only be putting ourselves at a disadvantage.’ 

‘That’s true,’ Fugaku replied. ‘But I am past my prime, Itachi. The village needs someone new, someone stronger to look to in times of trouble. If there is an attack, and I’m certain there will be soon, the village needs someone far more capable than me.’ 

‘Father, I…’ 

Itachi knew it would be soon. Just not this soon.

The Hokage nodded, paying no heed to his son’s indecision. ’It’s settled. Your inauguration will be held in exactly one month.’ 

Chapter Text

When Sakura awoke, it was to a wholesome, savoury scent that reminded her of childhood. She lifted her head from the warm pillow, finding herself alone in bed, the curtains drawn and lights off. 

And yet, the smell of cooking strayed through the crack under the door. In her half slumbering state, she wondered if she was trapped in a memory of the past — or perhaps even a parallel universe — and she would open the door to find her mother standing in the kitchen of her childhood home, beckoning her to taste a spoonful of a new recipe. 

But Sakura knew better than to cling to false hopes like that. The scent was familiar, but in a different way. A different time. 

It was an odour that she recognised from a mission years prior when Team Seven were still genin. All they had in terms of rations were some eggs that their client, a grateful farmer from a nearby civilian village, had given them. It had been Sasuke’s turn to cook. 

Sakura slid out of bed and opened the door. She stepped into the light of the hall and approached the living room where the smell intensified. However, it was now accompanied by the opening and closing of cupboard doors, and there was now a burnt tinge to the air. 

In the kitchen, she discovered a frustrated Sasuke attempting to dislodge an omelette from a frying pan. He shook the pan, cursing under his breath as he pried the edges away with a spatula. On the counter stood two glasses of orange juice, accompanied by a bowl of humiliated orange rinds, the flesh squeezed out of them. It took a minute before he noticed her presence. 

‘I didn’t mean to wake you up.’ 

She took the spatula from his hand, automatically seeking to rectify the damage. ‘No, you didn’t. I promise.’ 

He watched with mild intrigue as she slid the spatula under the omelette, freeing the burnt side with practiced ease. 

‘I didn’t know what you wanted to eat,’ he said. 

Anyone else might have missed it, but she knew him well enough to see the discomfort in his expression and the way he watched her so closely, as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. 

‘Thank you, Sasuke-kun.’ She slid the crisp omelette onto a plate and tried to hold back a small smile. ‘You really outdid yourself this time.’ 

He glowered at the offending concoction, but helped Sakura retrieve cutlery and carry their meal to the table. She passed him a fork and sat down opposite. Despite Sasuke’s obvious embarrassment over the rather brown looking dish, Sakura was simply grateful that he had tried, even if his culinary skills were seriously lacking. 

‘Sakura, we don’t actually have to eat it.’ 

Stabbing a segment with her fork, she chewed on the piece, wondering how he had managed to achieve such an unusual texture using mere eggs. 

No matter. 

‘You made it for me,’ she shrugged. ‘That’s enough.’ 

He relaxed slightly at this and tried a mouthful himself, only to grimace at the burnt taste. Sakura would have laughed at his face, if only she wasn’t feeling so grim. Somehow the bitterness of their food only felt fitting. 

‘Normally, Itachi is a better cook,’ Sasuke muttered. His eyes widened. He seemed to realise his mistake a little too late. 

She knew he would be expecting some form of reaction at the mention of Itachi’s name, but Sakura only sipped her orange juice, hoping to wash away some of the bitterness. Yet it remained all the same, immovable within her. 

‘If I had known,’ Sasuke put down his fork,’ I would have stopped you from going on that mission with him.’

‘But you didn’t,’ she said. She earnestly hoped that he wouldn’t take the blame upon himself like he sometimes had a habit of doing. 

‘I should have realised it though. He was always working in that department back then, supervising all kinds of criminal investigations. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that he would actually be involved. I just think, in my head, I never associated him with… that line of work.’ 

‘You wouldn’t have. He’s your brother.’ 

Sasuke’s gaze lifted to the spot just above her brow, and Sakura suddenly felt a little self conscious. ‘It’s really noticeable, right?’ 

‘Not really. How did it happen?’

She hated thinking back to the previous night. But there it was, the memories still fresh in her mind. ‘I tripped and hit my head. It wasn’t really his fault. I was just clumsy, I guess.’ 

‘You don’t have to make excuses for him,’ Sasuke said. ‘I’m serious about what I said earlier.’ 

’To repay a debt.’ 

Sakura’s mind threw her back to the spinning pinwheels of Itachi’s Mangekyou as he stood above Takeshi’s body in Orochimaru’s base. The relentless speed at which he attacked, the whip-like precision of his blows. There couldn’t be many who were able to stand on equal ground against someone like that. 

‘I know,’ she murmured. ‘That’s what scares me, Sasuke-kun. I don’t want to you get hurt. I saw how strong he is, and you were right. His reputation is nothing in comparison.’ 

Sasuke’s mouth slanted into a line of disapproval. ‘I’m not going to get hurt, Sakura. I’m not a genin.’ 

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know you’re not. I just worry. I’m allowed to worry about you.’

Sasuke twirled the fork between his fingers, conflict brewing between his drawn eyebrows. It was obvious what was on his mind; his thoughts were projected all over his face. He’d always had a one-track mind, and nothing would stop him from achieving his goals. 

And so, as Sakura watched the cogs spinning in Sasuke’s expression, she also knew that it would be impossible to deter him from hunting down his older brother. 

The late afternoon sun slipped hazily behind the Hokage Mountain, throwing an orange glow over the village below. Along the dusty streets, market vendors were closing up their stalls, drawing their produce back into boxes and sealed storage containers. Families grazed on end-of-day reductions and last minute deals before the market closed for good, and the groups of civilians occasionally broke up as children ran through the bustle, chasing one another home after an exciting day at the Academy. 

His fingers ached from all the paperwork he’d been made to complete. Now that the inauguration was officially scheduled in four weeks, he’d spent most of the day at his father’s side, signing tomes of papers, reading over scrolls and assigning missions as part of his “training”. 

In truth, his inauguration couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. So far, Kiri had showed every sign that there could be another war, his father expected him to take on an oppressive reign, and he still felt hostility radiating from the clans who viewed him as an enemy indoctrinated by Uchiha propaganda. As far as he was concerned, he no longer had a true friend in the village. 

He stopped in the street. The curtains of the apartment above were drawn, revealing no light. No life. 

Sakura. 

He was sure she was home. The reserves of her chakra could be felt, even from here, the glowing warmth pulling him, tempting him closer. If he wished it, there was nothing stopping him from jumping up to her window and inviting himself inside as he’d done before. 

However… 

An image of Sakura’s eyes, staring at him like a deer in headlights, flashed through his mind. 

It would be dishonourable. Downright disrespectful. 

He couldn’t do that to her again.

It had been two days since he’d returned home from the mission. Since the arrest. He’d made a conscious effort to stay as far away from her as feasibly possible, giving her the space she needed even if he felt like a starving man without her presence. Ever since the arrest, Sasuke had yet to come home. He was either angry at their father, or angry at himself. No doubt, he was staying with Sakura. 

Itachi forced himself to tear his eyes away, continuing through the village. He wandered towards the outer edges, where houses and streets turned to grassy slope. Here, fields were chartered off into training grounds, and peaceful corners had been dedicated as shinobi cemeteries. He walked through the gravesides, tracing the path past the memorial stone of the Third Great Ninja War, until he found what he was looking for. 

The name Uchiha Izumi was carved neatly into the stone. The tulip he’d placed at the base of the grave weeks prior had now turned a crisp brown under the elements. Itachi removed it, and somehow felt a burden lift in doing so. 

As though he’d finally let go of something.

Uttering a quick prayer, he walked deeper into the cemetery, seeking out the same blossom tree he occasionally sought advice from. Shisui’s kanji stared back at him from the pale stone, almost accusingly, and Itachi sank to his knees at the graveside. 

‘Shisui, I…’ He swallowed. ‘I’ve ruined things.’ He rubbed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts into a coherent sentence. ‘If I could change the past, I would. But she despises me, and there’s no returning from this. I don’t know what to do.’ 

When he asked her for her hand in marriage, he’d simply considered it a transaction of sorts. A deal. But now, everything had changed. His world had tilted on its axis, and she was the only solution to right his wrongs. 

‘She wants nothing to do with me.’ 

A breeze stirred the branches above, but this time, no petals drifted to meet him. Itachi sighed, rubbing his temples. The breeze caught once more, troubling the branches that hung low above Shisui’s grave. This time, it felt like something was approaching. 

Something was approaching. 

No, not something. Someone. 

He darted out of the way just in time to avoid the shiruken that landed in the grass behind him, and stood up, meeting the simmering red of his otouto’s Sharingan. Sasuke was standing before him, fists tight by his side, and Itachi leapt into the air right as his baby brother pulled on the ninja wire in his fist, slicing the shiruken through the air where Itachi had been. 

This confrontation wasn’t unexpected. 

What was unexpected was the fact that his foolish baby brother had decided to corner him in a cemetery of all places.

It’s rather low of you, Sasuke. 

Itachi sprinted away from the delicate gravesides and towards the training grounds, glad when his brother gave chase. This way they could talk without destroying someone’s final resting place, or ending up with some angry, bereaved relatives complaining to his father. As expected, Sasuke was in pursuit and was catching up quickly. Itachi landed in the middle of training ground four, spinning on his heel just in time to block Sasuke’s kick. 

Now that he could see him properly, Itachi noticed that Sasuke’s jaw was clenched. The veins in his neck were protruding, and he was truly fighting to draw blood. 

And for the first time, Itachi dropped all defence. 

His head snapped back as Sasuke’s knuckles collided his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. A voice in his head — his father’s voice — ordered him to get back up and fight like a man, like an Uchiha, but he forced himself into submission. 

I’ll allow you this, at least. 

Straddling above where he lay, Sasuke made a face when he seemed to clock that his big brother wasn’t responding, but continued to punch Itachi’s nose until something cracked and blood trickled across his lips. Itachi gritted his teeth through the pain, even as Sasuke’s anger turn to confusion… then pure, unrestrained rage. 

‘You’re not even going to fight back?’ Sasuke hissed in his face, fingers grabbing Itachi by the scruff of his shirt. ‘You’re going to lie there like the pathetic bastard that you are?’ 

Itachi held back a bittersweet smile. He had to admit, he was rather proud of Sasuke for defending his close friend and teammate with such passion. 

‘Sakura wasn’t able to fight back,’ he said diplomatically. ‘It’s only fair.’

The comment seemed to fulfil its purpose. He deserved this. He deserved the way Sasuke’s mouth flickered with disgust. Itachi felt his head slammed into the ground. His vision blurred a little and his lungs ached deep in his chest. 

He deserved that too. 

‘You admit it then?’ Sasuke whispered in his ear, spiteful. ‘You admit that you cut her, and broke her bones, and choked her, and forced her to deal with it again and again in that fucking jutsu of yours?’ 

The hand around his scruff tightened painfully. Itachi closed his eyes, struggling to push down the surge of memories that he’d fought so hard to forget all these years. Sakura’s shrill screams sounded in his head — the screams of a young girl. He could still see her crying for her mother. The mother that he now knew his clan had killed.  

He was willing to deal with the consequences. 

‘I admit it.’ 

Sasuke’s grip moved to his neck, squeezing hard until Itachi felt his face tighten with the pressure and he wheezed.  Hovering above, Sasuke’s face was twisted — burning with the knowledge that the older brother he’d trusted had committed such vile actions. However, just when Itachi began to see dark spots creep into the edge of his vision, and he felt the telltale numbness signalling that he was going to pass out, Sasuke’s weight was suddenly wrenched away. 

His lungs constricted, demanding air as he sat up. He coughed and spluttered in an attempt to catch his breath. His throat was surely bruised, and his nose was blocked with blood. It was almost certainly broken. 

He heard the sound of his brother’s protests coming from several feet behind him, and turned to see a mass of silver hair. Hatake Kakashi was wrestling with Sasuke, struggling to keep ahold of him. Itachi heard Kakashi admonish Sasuke, instructing him to shut up and calm down. Then he looked up, realising that Itachi was watching them. 

‘I’m sorry about this, Itachi-sama.’ 

‘You have no reason to be,’ Itachi murmured, coughing at the twinge in his throat as he got to his feet.  

When they had first met in Anbu, Kakashi had been his senior comrade. Someone whose orders he followed without question, who he’d looked up to. Back then, Kakashi had simply called him Itachi-san. Although he was used to the change in hierarchy by now, the change in honorific was still discomforting. 

At the back of his mind, he wondered whether Kakashi had any awareness of why Sasuke was so angry. Itachi knew that most likely, Kakashi had been at the memorial stone nearby and had sensed the commotion. Or perhaps he had heard Sasuke’s anger and decided to intervene as his former sensei. Now, the man was looking between them, and from the slight pucker in his brow, seemed to be trying to work out what had happened to cause such an intense spar. 

So he doesn’t know yet…

‘Sasuke, you need to calm down,’ Kakashi said sternly as Sasuke tried to fight against the headlock he was being held in. ‘Haven’t you been to the Hokage Tower recently? The inauguration is next month. Even if he’s your brother, you can’t attack the future Hokage. ’ 

‘What the hell does that matter?’ Sasuke spat. 

‘Of course it matters. There’s a system to be upheld—‘

‘I’m guessing Sakura didn’t tell you,’ Sasuke cut in, and Itachi’s stomach dropped. ‘He did it. He used his eyes on her.’ 

‘What are you talking about? What does Sakura have to do with this?’

‘It was him. Ten years ago.’

Itachi braced himself. 

Fighting off Sasuke was one thing, but Hatake Kakashi wouldn’t hold back nearly half as much. He waited for the assault that would inevitably come. 

But there was nothing. 

Kakashi looked at him in disbelief, and the weight of that disapproval was enough to burden Itachi with a lifetime of remorse. He’d severely hurt the closest thing Kakashi had to a daughter. He could see that now. That lone, dark eye was fixed on him, and Itachi knew that this was his chance to defend himself, even deny everything and protest his innocence. But he couldn’t. 

He could only wait and stare as Kakashi slowly released Sasuke, who backed away, still simmering beneath the surface. 

‘I see,’ Kakashi said. ‘So it’s true.’ 

Itachi nodded gravely. He could see the decision Kakashi was making: whether to fight in his student’s defence or walk away. 

‘I apologise,’ Itachi replied, ‘but I realise it’s inconsequential. The damage is done.’ 

‘No,’ Kakashi bit. ‘It’s still ongoing. It never left.’ 

Itachi looked at the ground. Every word he said only incriminated him more. The silence stretched on, and he waited for his judgement. It continued, on and on, until there was a sigh. 

Kakashi was watching him coldly. Several paces behind, Sasuke seemed to be waiting to see what his old sensei would do. 

‘Unlike Sasuke, I’m not going to try and fight you,’ he muttered. ’You’re the Hokage’s son, and I can’t let Sakura take the fall for anything I choose to do.’ Noticing Sasuke’s disgruntlement at this, Kakashi silenced him with one hand. ‘However, if for any reason something similar happens again, I won’t hold back. Have I made myself clear, Itachi-sama?’

Itachi felt deeply that Kakashi should fight him. However, he couldn’t fault the man’s judgement. Even he didn’t want any of their actions to result in further punishment, for Sakura’s sake.  

‘Perfectly.’ 

Itachi hung back. In the distance he saw Sasuke shoving and lashing out at Kakashi, to the extent that the man had to haul Sasuke away from the training grounds by force. 

An unshakeable dread settled over him. No matter what he did from here on out, he would never completely regain their trust. 

The Yamanaka flower shop was a bouquet of colour, petals and delicate scents. Overflowing with freshly cut flowers, the artfully placed buckets outside the store front displayed everything from lilies and roses, to freesias, dahlias, and every other bud under the sun. The shop looked different to how it used to when Sakura was a young child. According to Ino, the original flower shop had been present since the First Hokage’s era, but was destroyed during the Coup. The new flower shop was far sturdier, and larger in space. 

Sakura peered through the glass window of the door. She couldn’t see much past the gold paint displaying the Yamanaka clan symbol on the pane, but the chakra signature within was unfamiliar to her. It could only mean that another member of the clan was at the till today. A friend of the family, perhaps. Ino never worked on a weekday. However, it was curious. Normally Ino’s mother worked in the flower shop right through the week. 

She waited outside, unsure of whether to turn around and forget all about Inoichi’s words. 

When she’d visited his home several days prior, he’d given her the hint about her history with Itachi. But that wasn’t the only thing he told her. 

‘Go to the Yamanaka flower shop on Thursday at 3pm sharp. Ask for exactly 46.8 kilograms of peonies. They’ll know what to do.’ 

The door in front of her was beckoning. All she had to do was step inside. 

Chapter Text

The man stared back at her, his long hair and blue eyes signature traits of his clan. She tried to speak, and had to clear her throat twice before she could get a single word out. Her behaviour was suspicious, she knew as much. But she also trusted Inoichi. The man had misled the entire Torture and Interrogation Division for her sake, even under a truth-telling jutsu. He wouldn’t lead her into a dangerous situation. Not knowingly, anyway. 

The Yamanaka in front of her looked quizzical. ‘Can I help you?’ 

Sakura wrung her fingers together. ‘I’d like 46.8 kilograms of peonies.’ 

The man blinked at her. For a moment, a touch of shrewdness crossed his face before it was masked. ’46.8 kilograms. That’s quite a specific amount.’ 

‘Yes. I’d like that exact amount. 46.8 kilograms.’ She wracked her brains for what to say next. She didn’t think he’d quiz her on it. Thinking fast, she added, ‘Inoichi-san recommended the peonies.’

Hoping the mention of Inoichi would help her pass this little test, she widened her eyes expectantly, as if they were both on the same wavelength. She must have met with his approval, because he gestured for her to step forward and lifted the counter for her to pass through. 

He led her to the cluttered storeroom at the back, closing the door behind them. Sakura had never been in this part of the store before. Ino had never shown her this side of the store before. There were boxes of oasis foam, vases, plastic display buckets and tubs of supplies stacked around the room. Sakura looked over everything sceptically, wondering what on earth she’d gotten herself into. 

It’s not exactly a secret cavern or anything. 

However, when the man pushed against a shelving unit she started to realise that there was something more at hand here. The man rolled back the carpet and pried open several floorboards to reveal a hole in the ground. 

A secret passage? 

Her jaw dropped a little, and the man smiled at her confusion before ushering her down into the gap. Utterly baffled, but reminding herself that Inoichi was her ally, Sakura awkwardly climbed into the gap in the floorboards. Encased in darkness, the faint outline of a tunnel could be seen spreading out before her. In the flower store above, the man reached across the gap to grab something from a shelf. 

‘Here.’ He passed a torch down to her. ‘There isn’t much time before it starts. Just keep following the path and you’ll find your way.’ 

She looked up at him. ‘Wait—‘ 

Before she could say anything further, the boards were slotted back into place above her head.  

It was just her and the all-encompassing darkness. 

Turning each way in an attempt to navigate herself, she braced her hand on the wall of the tunnel, feeling hard rock jutting against her rough palm, dry dust leaving residue on her fingertips. All the while, she wondered what on earth Inoichi and the rest of the Yamanaka clan were up to. Was this a secret hideout? A den of some kind? 

Flicking the torch on, Sakura’s eyes followed the beam as it stretched all the way down the tunnel into the void ahead. 

There’s only one way to find out. 

She walked ahead, following the derelict tunnel through twists and turns, relying only on the steady echo of her footsteps to guide her. There was nothing but silence down here underground — all the chaos and bustle of the village had melted away. And if not for the vulnerability that came with being alone in the dark, she felt oddly at peace.  

Wherever she was going, she wondered if Inoichi would be there. Ino’s mother, too. There had to be an explanation for this. But more than that, whatever this was, did Ino know about it? The Yamanaka clan was certainly hiding a few secrets, but what if there was more to this than just one clan? 

What if the whole village has a secret underground network to communicate with one another?

Her thoughts were answered as she thought she heard a slight hum. She stopped walking, listening carefully. 

Yes — there it was. Her trained ears could only just pick up on the sound. A humming that grazed the silence. Continuing ahead, the humming grew louder and louder, and if she was seeing things correctly, the tunnel was growing lighter too.It was so subtle, how the darkness began to fade into a navy, a brown, then a flickering orange. 

And then all at once, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern.

Sakura stopped, transfixed by the scene before her.  

Several heads turned at her entrance, but she was too busy taking in the room to pay them any attention. Inoichi hadn’t mentioned anything like this. The cavern was decorated with a range of clan symbols strewn in coloured banners across the walls, and every square foot was filled with faces of jounin, chuunin, some of which she recognised as relatives of Ino whom she’d seen at family gatherings. Some, she knew were from the Nara and Amikichi clans judging by the symbols sewn into their uniforms. However, there was a range of shinobi here, all from smaller clans right across the village. 

Sticking close by the wall, Sakura tried to make sense of the crowds. Across the cavern, she spotted Inoichi. He was occupied by what appeared to be a deep conversation with another Yamanaka. Only a couple of feet away, Nara Shikaku and Akimichi Choza were discussing something inaudible. Now that she could see better from her place by the wall, she realised that on the far end of the cavern was a raised platform. 

Secret meetings… have these really been happening this whole time? 

It went without saying, a gathering like this had to be illegal according to Uchiha rule. 

Is this where the first uprising was planned?

Sakura had so many questions, but they would have to be saved for Inoichi himself.  

She felt a little jittery being here, knowing that it was her first time attending a meeting like this. She huddled into a recess by the wall trying to settle her nerves as she waited for the meeting to begin, and soon enough,  Inoichi, Shikaku and Choza stepped up onto the platform. Almost instantly, the chatter amongst the shinobi died down, and all eyes were on the three. Shikaku stepped forward. He addressed the crowd with a lazy half-smile that was achingly reminiscent of Shikamaru. 

‘Thank you everyone for coming at such short notice. We understand just being here is a risk, but as you know Inoichi-san wouldn’t have called for this meeting without cause, so I’ll pass things over to him.’ 

Shikaku gave Inoichi a look, and the man stepped up. Despite having lost an arm during the last uprising attempt, there was pride to his posture, a level of command that Sakura hadn’t seen in a while. He spoke loudly and slowly. 

‘Greetings,’ he said. ‘The reason I’ve called you here is because I’ve been made privy to certain information that will greatly help our cause.’ 

There was a murmur of interest at this. Sakura watched Inoichi’s face as his eyes moved to her. He smiled knowingly, and Sakura automatically knew what would come next.  

‘As you may or may not know, Haruno Sakura was recently apprehended at the village gates after returning from a mission with Uchiha Itachi.’ 

A couple of faces looked to her. She swallowed, keeping her eyes firmly on Inoichi. 

‘I was called to aid in her interrogation, and was given access to her memories. In doing this, I learned that Uchiha Itachi — the Hokage’s right hand man, and the heir to the Uchiha clan — is in fact allied against his father.’ 

Now this caused a stir, and by this point, nearly every set of eyes had turned to her. 

They were awaiting an explanation. 

Irritation rushed through her at the fact that Inoichi had put her on the spot like this, but then, she understood why he did it. Several whispers of disbelief reverberated across the cavern. 

Sakura tuned it out as best she could. 

‘Apparently Uchiha Itachi has been against his father’s ruling even before the Uchiha Coup d’Etat,’ Inoichi continued eagerly. 'He could be a valuable ally to us—‘ 

‘How can we trust someone like that?’ A voice exclaimed. There were hums of agreement.

‘How can we trust that it’s true after what he did to the Third Hokage?’ Another person cried out. This time, several raised their voices in response until there was a rise in conversation around the cavern. 

I suppose I can give them some answers. 

Sakura took a steely breath, then stepped away from the wall. The crowd parted to allow her up to the raised platform, where she stood by Inoichi’s side. 

The crowd tapered into silence. What seemed like hundreds of eyes peered up at her, waiting. Sakura stood straighter. 

‘I can vouch that it’s true.’ 

She trained her eyes on the back of the cavern. Anything to distract her from the many faces down below. 

‘Many weeks ago, he enlisted me to help him restore peace to Konoha. He even used his Sharingan to show me his memories of the past.’

Another set of hushed whispers rolled through the crowd, and Sakura gaze briefly lowered to a dark tunnel on the far wall. Her heart jumped at the sight of shaggy silver hair and the faded green of a jounin flak jacket. 

You’re here too? 

Her old sensei was in the threshold of the tunnel entrance, as though he had just arrived. Yet he was looking at her like he'd never expected to see her standing on this platform. 

But there was something else hidden in his one visible eye, as though he possessed a hidden knowledge of her. 

Did he find out about Itachi too? 

The thought gave her pause. 

Did Inoichi tell him?

She couldn’t worry about that. Everyone was still watching her, waiting for her to provide them with the answers they craved. She cleared her throat slightly 

‘I wouldn’t have truly believed it if I hadn’t seen his memories,’ she said. ‘Prior to the Coup, Uchiha Itachi was tasked with a plan to stop the Coup, but it failed.’ 

Was this Itachi’s private information? Somehow it felt wrong to spill it here of all places. Yet at the same time, he had hurt her. He’d crushed her completely. As awful as it was, she felt a little justified in spilling his darkest secrets to a roomful of strangers. 

After all, he did the same to me, all those years ago. 

This seemed to interest the shinobi down below. One cleared a little space, and called to her across the cavern. ’Bring him here! Let him explain himself!’ 

‘I don’t… I’m just not sure.’ 

She looked at Inoichi, aware that she couldn’t promise them anything. This wasn’t really her place. At least, it wasn’t her place to take over an entire meeting like this. Moreover, she couldn’t simply bring Itachi here. She hadn’t even seen him, let alone spoken to him since… 

No, don’t think about it. Don’t let them see that you’re scared. 

She couldn’t look at Kakashi; the man could read her too well by now. Thankfully, Inoichi stepped forward once again, but this time, he spoke only to Sakura. 

‘It’s a good idea,’ he encouraged. ‘He could be very valuable, and I’m sure he’d appreciate having so many allies. Do you think it’s possible to bring him here?’ 

She glanced at the faces before her, as they watched the conversation take place. When she’d stepped up on this platform, she’d only considered giving them an explanation. But now, they all wanted a magic solution. Even Inoichi, to an extent, seemed to be relying on her cooperation. 

And with so much pressure on her shoulders, how could she refuse?

‘I can try,’ she said, although the thought of speaking to him, or even seeing him again twisted her stomach in knots. ‘I can try.’ 

Itachi’s nose was horribly broken. His cheekbone was also fractured just under his eye, and he had suffered severe bruising to the tendons in his neck according to the pleasant medic who healed him in the hospital. 

But this was the least he deserved. If Sasuke had been left to have his way, Itachi knew he wouldn’t be able to walk at all, let alone walk himself into the hospital. 

Having finally been discharged, he jumped roofs to roof, acutely aware that many years ago the village had looked so different at night. Prior to the Coup, there had never been a curfew and it was common to find bars and eateries open until the early morning, laughter and neon spilling onto pavements. Now, it was a different world.

It was too silent. 

He took the long way back to the Uchiha compound, diverging as he landed on a certain tree near a certain window. The lights were off, but the curtains were cast open. She was home. Her chakra thrummed behind the panes, glowing and safe. His little brother’s chakra was there too, but further away. It was coming from the living room, meaning Sasuke was sleeping on the couch. 

He deliberated, knowing that he shouldn’t go any nearer. But he needed to see for himself — he needed to see that she was okay. He was confident he could enter without Sakura or his little brother sensing his presence, but that was besides the point. It wouldn’t be respectful of her privacy. 

Torn between looking into the window and turning the other way, several minutes must have passed before he finally came to a decision. 

It wouldn’t hurt just to see her. 

He landed on the side of the house and summoned chakra to his feet to hold him steady. He crouched outside the window, barely looking in. 

There she was, soft in her bed with the covers drawn to her waist and a ridiculous looking stuffed bear by her side. Her pink hair was messy on the pillow, and one leg was sticking out of the bed. He could have walked away, but he noticed it immediately. 

Something was wrong. 

It was so subtle, how her eyes shifted, conflicted under her closed lids. Her breathing was a little too fast, and her brows were drawn in what looked like pain. He saw her lips part, letting out what could have been a whimper if only he could hear it through the window. 

A nightmare…

His eyes found the door on the other side of her bedroom, and he wondered where Sasuke was. Surely Sasuke had heard, or at least sensed his teammate’s distress, no? Back and forth. His eyes roved back and forth, waiting for Sasuke to appear in the doorway at any moment. But he didn’t. 

Itachi huffed, noticing now that Sakura’s mouth was twisted and tears were spilling from the corners of her eyes. 

This is wrong. 

His hand hovered over the window, bringing forth subtle flickers of chakra. 

This is wrong. 

The civilian lock on her window was easy to open from the outside. He let himself in and dropped to the floor, holding his shoes in one hand so that he wouldn’t leave a trace, let alone footprints on her beige carpets. Padding silently over to where Sakura lay, he could hear her now. Quiet sobs spilled from her mouth. 

And then she whispered a name — his name — and a sense of deep shame welled up inside him. 

‘Itachi… Please, stop… Don’t do it.’ 

He hovered one hand over her forehead, his eyes trickling with crimson.  

This is wrong.

The Genjutsu was mild. Temporary. It was enough to smooth over her brow, and her expression relaxed into one of peaceful contentment. Her breathing slowed, evening out until it was deep and restful. 

Such a simple Genjutsu was undetectable to most. But it was enough that her eyes cracked open, hazy with sleep, before meeting his Sharingan.  

Itachi was gone in a heartbeat. 

Chapter Text

 ‘Sakura, what are you doing?’ 

The question struck like cold water, reminding her of where she was: at the breakfast table, with Sasuke, surrounded by the warm scent of fresh toast. Sasuke was watching her with idle curiosity as she rubbed her forehead for the third time that morning. 

Her mind had been elsewhere, still submerged in her dreams from the night before. She’d had a nightmare, or at least that was how it’d started. A nightmare that she was encased within Itachi’s orange and black dimension, unable to move her limbs even an inch, watching him stalk towards her, blade in hand and eyes glowing with something predatory. 

But then it had shifted, the orange and black ebbing away like ripples and reforming itself into what she recognised as the original Uchiha training grounds — the very stretch of grass where he’d originally proposed to her. However, it looked different in her dreamscape. More vivid, the colours saturated. As she lay in bed that morning, she could still feel the sun-warmed grass beneath her feet and smell the narcissus blooming in dappled groves beneath the trees. The detail was perfect, with battered training boards strung up as targets on branches, even in such a lush dream. 

Itachi had been in this version too, but his eyes were their usual black. And he was smiling at her. 

He had walked towards her then, and exactly as he had done in the cabin, when they had lain together side by side, he’d reached out two fingers and tapped her on the forehead.  

The rough touch of his fingers was palpable. So much so that she couldn’t help but rub the spot above her brows once more. 

‘You’re doing it again,’ Sasuke commented, slowly chewing on a slice of toast. ‘I assume you slept okay.’ 

‘Not really,’ she admitted. ’I keep getting nightmares. The same ones that I used to have, you know, after the first time.’ 

Sasuke seemed to think deeply for a moment. Then he said, ‘Sakura, do you want me to use my eyes to, you know, get rid of them.’ 

The thought was tempting. Very tempting. But she’d rather face a reality for what it was, hardships and all, than be subdued under a Genjutsu again, even if she did trust Sasuke with her life. She declined, and once again they fell into companionable silence. 

Sasuke had been staying over for several days now. She disappeared during the day to fulfil her shifts at the hospital, but by the time she returned home Sasuke would be back. She wasn’t born yesterday; Sasuke was definitely not spending his days lurking around her apartment. He had to be out and about, but doing what she couldn’t be sure. From what she could gather, he wasn’t speaking to his father, or even his brother anymore. And every time she brought up something remotely related to his family she felt a certain tension, but Sasuke never bothered to shut down the conversation. 

A part of her felt a little guilty. A little conflicted. It was her arrest that drove a wedge between the two Uchiha brothers, and although she knew it wasn’t really her fault, she’d still come between them.

It was all still so hard to believe. 

Rubbing her forehead again absentmindedly, Sakura asked, ’Does your brother have some kind of special interest in foreheads?’ 

Sasuke slowly put down the coffee cup he was holding. ‘I can’t tell if you’re joking.’ 

She realised how it sounded. Insane. Perhaps it was best to at least try and explain herself. ‘On the mission he tapped me on the forehead — like this.’ She demonstrated on Sasuke with two fingers. He was silent and still as she did so. ‘I just remembered it this morning. I’ve never seen someone do that before. It just seemed strange to me. Is it an Uchiha thing?’ 

Sasuke’s mouth was parted in surprise. His dark eyes tracked hers, as if she’d said something horribly wrong, but he quickly smoothed over his expression. She knew that look. It was a mask. 

‘Sasuke-kun?’

‘It’s not an Uchiha thing,’ he said quietly. ‘It's an Itachi thing.’ 

Sakura sensed that she’d touched on something sensitive, but she wasn’t quite sure what. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ 

He downed the rest of his coffee, seemingly refusing to look at her, let alone answer her question. Sakura watched, realising that she had definitely stirred up something between the brothers. 

She repeated herself. ’Did I do something wrong?’

He shook his head, although his eyes seemed to betray his words. ‘No. No, nothing.’ 

Sakura couldn’t find it in herself to believe him. 

Sign. Stamp. Seal.

Itachi picked up another D-Rank mission form, reading over the delicately penned request for a missing cat to be located and returned home. He picked up his pen once more. 

Sign. Stamp. Seal. 

He filed it away in a manila envelope, where it would be assigned to a genin team in the early morning. His office in the Hokage Tower was uncomfortably quiet, and the midday sun was burning through the window, heating up the room just enough that he could feel a slight sweat breaking out against the back of his neck. 

All morning, he’d been subjected to Hokage training, led by his father whom he’d shadowed for hours on end. By the time lunch rolled around, he was glad to be left to his own devices, sorting mission slips in the peace and quiet of his own space. 

However, there was something too still about it. 

His work seemed too methodical. 

It had never bothered him before, but for the first time, he was craving more. More what? He didn’t know. Or perhaps he did, but it was easier not to acknowledge it. 

For now, all he could do was his work. He spent several hours following the same dull process. Every mission slip was some variation of the same. Dog walking, litter picking, de-weeding, babysitting; the outcome was no different. 

Sign. Stamp. Seal. 

By the time he placed the last mission slip into the same manila folder, the setting sun had turned a burnt orange, and his eyes felt heavy with the strain of reading clumsily poor handwriting. He packed up his things and left his office. The main road through the village was aglow with the sunset and he took his time in trudging home, using his better judgement to avoid that apartment. Eventually, the Uchiha Compound gates emerged in the distance, and although Itachi’s feelings for his clan were complex at best, he felt relief at seeing them. 

When he entered his family home, however, his relief melted into something else entirely. He toed off his sandals, hovering at the bottom of the stairs. 

There was a disturbance. 

He could sense it. 

The lingering presence of a stranger. 

Immediately climbing the stairs, Itachi cautiously approached his room. The door was locked, just as he left it that morning. But the moment he opened it, he knew that someone had been inside. Everything looked regular, almost untouched. 

Almost. 

The items on his desk had moved several centimetres, and the top drawer of his chest was open a minute crack. Itachi opened the second drawer down of his desk, pulling out his trusted mission scroll. It took him ten full minutes to check that every item was accounted for, including the hairpin and the letter he’d carefully penned the night he’d revealed the truth of his actions to Sakura. 

Each item was present, from his bedroll to his first aid kit, yet Itachi knew someone had been in his bedroom. Although they had concealed their chakra well, they had left remnants of their interference. Yes, there had definitely been someone here. 

He peered around, analysing every inch of his tampered space. 

What were you looking for? 

Whatever it was, he would make it his mission to find out. 

One emergency after the other. It was a perfect way to keep her mind occupied. 

The waiting room was overcrowded with broken arms, lodged shiruken, burns, open wounds and even sick, crying infants. Sakura worked her way through the list,  treating each and every patient with the smile and bedside manner she’d honed over years of service. That was, until Honoka reminded her that a certain jounin was overdue his yearly checkup and refused to accept any medic other than Haruno Sakura.

Rolling her eyes, Sakura handed over the emergency list to a colleague, grabbed Kakashi’s medical file from the office, and followed the hospital corridors down until she reached Examination Room Four. The moment she placed her hand on the doorknob, she sensed a thin, watery barrier embrace wash over her knuckles — chakra.

Kakashi, what the hell are you up to? 

As expected, there he was, perching on the edge of the bed. He looked at her tiredly as she entered, closing the door behind her. Reading the look on his face, she turned the lock. 

‘Yo.’ 

She tilted her head. ‘Normally I have to hunt you down to get you to come for your annual checkup.’ 

Kakashi’s eye crinkled. ‘Normally. But then I also don’t normally see my favourite student at those meetings.’ 

At the mention of the secret meeting, Sakura glanced back at the closed door. Kakashi might have sealed the room, but ‘what ifs’ started filtering into her thoughts.

We can’t rule it out.  

‘We’re safe to talk, Sakura.’ 

‘Are we really?’ 

Kakashi looked at her slyly. ‘Mah, you’d really doubt your old sensei. Believe it or not, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.’

Sakura read over Kakashi’s file. ‘I’m actually impressed. It’s been three years since you last had a check up… and you’re still alive and kicking.’ 

‘A new record,’ Kakashi said. Then his tone shifted, growing serious. ‘But we can celebrate that later over ramen with Naruto and Sasuke. Right now, we have a few things to talk about.’ 

Sakura knew where this conversation was heading. She’d seen the way he looked at her during the meeting, especially whilst she was announcing her intimate knowledge of Itachi to the crowd. He knew. Not everything, but he knew. 

‘What do you want me to say?’ She asked him, gesturing for him to remove his flak jacket. 

Kakashi did so, and they ran through the motions as she checked his heart with the stethoscope, and made a note on his file. ‘I want to know the full picture,’ he said. ‘You mentioned during the meeting that Itachi-san enlisted you to help him, but that contradicts everything Sasuke told me.’

This gave Sakura pause as she set down her pen. ‘Sasuke-kun spoke to you about this?’ 

‘Not directly,’ he said carefully. ‘I caught him trying to attack Itachi-san in the training grounds.’

Sakura’s eyes widened. 

He attacked him? 

Sasuke had never mentioned this. He’d simply said that he would handle it. And whilst Sakura knew that he would do something, that much was obvious, she hadn’t known that their confrontation had already happened. Sasuke had acted completely normal that morning, and she hadn’t seen or heard any mention of him in the hospital. 

‘If they were fighting,’ Sakura asked, ‘how come Sasuke-kun was never injured? Itachi is miles stronger. Everyone knows that.’ 

Kakashi’s single eye glinted, and Sakura realised what she’d inadvertently done. She distracted herself by wrapping the blood pressure sleeve tightly around Kakashi’s bicep and refusing to look at him. 

‘No honorific, hm? I didn’t realise you were on first name basis,’ Kakashi mused. ‘Even his teammates aren’t so close.’ 

Sakura cleared her throat busied herself with noting down his current blood pressure. She hated how easily the lie spilled from her tongue. ‘Yeah, when he first asked me to help him he insisted on first names to try and build trust. I think he hates the pretence of it too. But that’s not what I asked you.’ 

Kakashi didn’t look particularly satisfied by her dismissive reasoning, but he seemed to let the matter go. At least for now. ‘Well, I didn’t see how it started, but from what I could gather Itachi-san wasn’t fighting back. Sasuke did a number on him too.’ 

He let himself get hurt?

For a brief moment, Sakura considered the damage Sasuke could do — she’d sparred with him so many times and knew how much power he could unleash when angry — and wondered if Itachi was okay. But then she realised that she was no longer supposed to care. 

I should be glad, she thought. I should want him to be hurt. 

But I don’t. 

In fact, the thought of him allowing himself to suffer in pain twisted deeply in her gut. 

‘Apparently, Itachi-san was the one who interrogated you in the past.’ 

So Sasuke told Kakashi?

‘I only found out recently. I didn’t know before. I only knew that it was an Anbu wearing a mask who did it.’ 

‘I’m just surprised,’ Kakshi said quietly. ‘Hearing that the two of you formed an alliance, of sorts. I wouldn’t have associated the two of you.’ 

‘Just cut to the chase, Kakashi-sensei.’ 

Kakashi huffed, smiling a little beneath his mask. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to ask him to attend the meeting, all things considered?’ 

So he’d seen right through her. 

Sakura wondered how she’d go about even bringing the topic up with Itachi, when they had so much else to address before they could even return to anything resembling normal. She set down Kakashi’s file as he donned his flak jacket once more. She placed the lid back on her pen, and tucked the stethoscope and blood pressure monitor away in the drawer, before finally finding the courage to face her old sensei. 

‘Look, I’m not sure if I can ask him right now,’ she admitted. ‘But I will. I just… I don’t know how to even broach the subject.’ 

Kakashi didn’t seem surprised by this. ‘I can’t tell you what to say or how to feel,’ he told her. ‘However, based on what I saw between Sasuke and Itachi-san, I believe you have more sway over him than you realise.’ 

‘You think?’ 

‘He let Sasuke break his nose for you,’ Kakashi said blandly. ‘I think it’s safe to say he feels guilty.’  

‘Right,’ Sakura said, clutching Kakashi’s medical file to her chest. ‘Right.’

Kakashi hopped off the bed and stood straight. She had barely even given him an actual checkup, they both knew as much. But it didn’t seem to matter, as Kakashi made his way to the door. He stopped as he passed her and with one hand, ruffled her hair exactly how he used to when she was twelve. 

‘The next meeting is one week today. If you don’t want to speak to him, let me know. I can always ask on your behalf.’ 

The door shut softly behind him, and Sakura’s shoulders sank.   

One week. 

Just one week to somehow patch things up. Sakura was just glad she wasn’t alone in all this. 

Fugaku had turned pale when Itachi reported his suspicions to him. 

After his discovery earlier, Itachi’s first move was to backtrack to the Hokage tower, even if that meant returning to his workplace right after getting home. If his gut instinct was right, there was the possibility of a spy within Konoha’s walls. Somebody had definitely been in his bedroom, their family home. 

But searching for what? 

That was the real question. 

They would have to proceed with caution from here on out. His father had already dispatched an undercover agent to track Kiri’s trading patterns, and from the looks of things, Kiri hadn’t even attempted to amass weapons and arms from allied states. Something that seemed rather illogical, considering that they were preparing for war. 

They had to have a different tactic in hand, but so far Konoha’s intelligence had yet to decipher what exactly it was. 

Time would tell. 

If only we weren’t running out of it. 

Itachi was exhausted from what felt like hours of tactical discussion over Kiri’s movements. Once again, he found himself tracing across the village in the dead of night, drawn to the same window. The same apartment. 

It had become almost a compulsion now. Every time he walked along the streets, he couldn’t resist the urge to stop and look up. And whenever he passed by at night, he felt the need to check she was safe. 

Itachi knew it was ridiculous. The only danger she was in was from the nightmares that he himself had caused her. 

Yet here he was again. 

The window. The curtains, undrawn, as if purposely tempting him to look. He adjusted his position outside, feet clamped to the external wall with chakra, certain that it was completely and utterly wrong. Yet he felt a degree of comfort when he finally laid eyes on her. 

This time, the covers were drawn to her chest, mouth slightly open. Her camisole had slid down a little, revealing more of her flesh than it should. He felt like a lecher for even being here. Yet he still couldn’t leave. 

Once more, Sakura’s brows were furrowed. He could see what looked like hurt in her sleeping expression. 

I shouldn’t.

But if he didn’t, Sasuke wouldn’t think to check on her. That was his baby brother’s problem, and always had been since his youth: he didn’t think. Itachi tried to move away, knowing it wasn’t his place, but the guilt pulled him back once more. Sighing with resignation, he let himself in through her window. He crept across the room… and immediately knew he’d made a huge mistake. 

In her sleep, Sakura whimpered. But it wasn’t a whimper of fear. 

He stared at the young woman splayed out inside the bed. Now that he was paying attention, he could see the way her back arched a little. Her nipples had pebbled under her thin camisole, and the toes that were peeking out from under the cover were curled in pleasure. 

Oh no. 

Itachi couldn’t move. He needed to leave. Now. But he was transfixed by the sight, helpless against her power over him. And just when she quietened, and he slowly turned back to the window, she moaned softly. 

‘Itachi…’ 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt his blood rush south. Yet one look over his shoulder revealed that she hadn’t seen him. In fact, she was so utterly lost in whatever dream she was enjoying, she couldn’t possibly have noticed him. 

Even when he crossed the room. Even when he moved closer to her bed, hovering over her form. 

Even when he leaned over and kissed her on her forehead. 

‘Please… Itachi….’

Her whispers were a siren call, begging him to stay rooted here. But he’d almost never felt worse than he did right at this moment, witnessing something so private. 

It was when Sakura sighed again, twisting a little under her covers, that Itachi bolted from the room, heading home where he could drench himself in a cold shower.

Chapter Text

The carpet rubbed her bare legs. Having opened the window to cleanse away the night's memories, Sakura found herself kneeling on the bedroom floor in front of her chest of drawers. 

This was the first time she’d looked at the yukata since she returned from Kirigakure. 

The scuffed red fabric was still silky between her fingers, and the full length of it pooled in her lap like a scarlet waterfall. She had been wearing it last night in the simmering dream she’d experienced. This time, she hadn’t been confined in the orange and black dimension of Itachi’s Sharingan. In fact, she had barely been Sakura at all. Or perhaps she was, and she was merely caught between two lives. She had been wearing Saika’s clothing, draped on her bed in Mistress’ place, Itachi glancing at her darkly from between her thighs as his fingers gripped her hips, continuously denying her the release she sought. And then, too soon, she’d woken up in a stupor in the early hours of the morning. 

It was alarming, but she had woken up almost certain that someone had been in her bedroom. Perhaps it was a case of still being half asleep, but she could have sworn she’d seen a flash of red eyes from the corner of the room. 

And there’s the matter of the meeting…

She had just less than one week to ask Itachi to attend. It would be so easy just to take Kakashi up on his offer and let him do it for her. However, that wouldn’t help anything. She’d have to overcome her fears eventually and actually speak to him. Perhaps tomorrow? No — she was procrastinating. She couldn’t let herself put it off, otherwise she’d never speak to him again. 

She would do it today. 

Sakura’s hands tightened around the yukata. The only real way was to bite the bullet. She’d go to his office. She’d ask him today. 

‘Is that a yukata?’ 

Sasuke’s voice sounded from the doorway to her bedroom. Sakura slowly folded the yukata and placed it into a bag. She wasn’t sure what to do with it yet. Throwing it away would be too easy. 

‘I got it from Kirigakure.’ 

‘Why does it look like you dragged it through a hedge?’ Sasuke said. 

Sakura smiled and got to her feet. ‘Because I had to fight in it. Your brother gave it to me for a festival, and I didn’t have time to change when we left.’ 

‘Itachi gave it to you…’ Sasuke murmured. 

‘It was part of the roles we were playing,’ she explained.  

Sasuke looked mildly interested but didn’t question her any further. He was leaning against the doorframe, dressed head to toe in his shinobi gear. The sight was unusual, considering how often she came home from the hospital to see him lounging on her couch in casual wear. 

‘Are you going on a mission?’ She asked. 

‘Just sparring with the idiot later, if you want to join us.’ 

Sakura started pulling open her drawers, looking for an outfit to wear for the day. ‘Not today,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a shift at the hospital this afternoon, so I’m saving my energy.’ 

‘That’s not like you.’ 

Sakura pulled out an unironed shirt and glanced over it tiredly. ‘Yeah well, call it a lack of sleep.’ 

Sasuke gave her the same look that he usually did whenever she turned down his offer of “fixing” her nightmares for her. She couldn’t possibly tell him the real reason she’d woken up so frazzled at 2am and couldn’t get back to sleep. Thankfully, he didn’t seem willing to press the issue, and began to leave so she could change in peace. However, as he did, Sakura had one last question to ask. 

‘By any chance, were you in my room last night?’ 

Sasuke slowly turned. ‘I wasn’t.’ His eyes shifted back and forth between Sakura and the window, then landed on the bag containing the red yukata. ‘Was there someone in your room?’ 

Sakura waved it off, masking her trepidation with an easy smile. ‘I don’t think so. I was half asleep, so it was probably just a dream… yeah.’ 

‘Are you sure?’ Sasuke asked. 

He was peering at her with the intensity of someone piecing together a puzzle. She wondered, perhaps, if she had accidentally driven an even further wedge between the two brothers, but didn’t dare ask. The way Sasuke looked at this moment, she had a horrible feeling she’d given him another reason to pick another fight with Itachi. However, after what Kakashi told her in the hospital, she hadn’t asked him about the last time, and she had no intention of provoking any further arguments either. 

‘I’m sure,’ she said. 

Sakura dropped the red yukata off at the local tailor’s, where she was given strict instruction to collect it by the end of the week. In the end she’d decided that regardless of her current feelings, she just couldn’t find it within herself to get rid of it. And so, after Sasuke left her apartment, Sakura headed out to drop it off on her way to Itachi’s office. 

Konoha was particularly quiet. Usually cafes and market stalls would be overflowing with vendors by this time of day. Sakura strolled through the deadened streets, peering into the shop windows and checking around each alley. Normally, there would be patrol officers around too, but on second thought, she hadn’t seen a single one. 

Is there an event going on?

What she did see was the same poster nailed to each and every telecommunications pole in the village. She stopped by the nearest one, pulling the sheet of paper free and holding it in front of her as she read over the official notice. 

His inauguration.

It’s in three and a half weeks.  

She still had yet to make up her mind. She’d originally agreed to marry Itachi, but now she couldn’t be sure. She knew what she felt for him, even if it was a feeling that defied words. But would she ever be able to get over their past? Could she ever be happy with him now that her ignorance was destroyed?

‘Sakura-san!’ 

She hastily scrunched up the poster and shoved it into her pocket. Lee was running towards her, closely followed by Tenten and Neji. All three looked rather tense. Neji had his Byakugan activated and was staring at the roads ahead. 

‘Hey,’ Sakura said nervously. ‘Is it me or is it quieter than usual?’ 

Tenten shook her head. ‘Definitely something weird about it. We were training with Gai-sensei, and he got called for a meeting. He said he’d be right back, but he never showed.’ 

Sakura’s stomach clenched. ‘Surely something hasn’t happened.’ 

‘Neji’s checking for us now,’ Lee said, gesturing to his teammate who glared stonily at a particular street up ahead. 

‘It can’t be…’ Neji muttered. Then he disappeared, running ahead. 

Lee raised his dark brows, then sprinted after Neji, yelling for the girls to follow. Sakura stared in amazement, before Tenten grabbed her arm and the two ran after them. As they grew closer to the village centre, a dull wave of chatter started to grow and grow until finally the street opened up to reveal the market square, filled to the corners with citizens and shinobi. Sakura and Tenten pushed past armfuls of shopping, elderly civilians and worried Genin until they found their way to the front of the crowd, where it became frighteningly apparent what was happening. 

In the middle of the market square, three bodies were hanging from posts. They were perfectly still, with old hessian bags pulled over their faces. Their hands had been tied together with rope above their heads, and every so often their stiff limbs swayed with the breeze. On either side of the posts, three Uchiha shinobi were standing guard. 

Sakura had seen a number of corpses before. Death was no stranger, yet it still startled her all the same.  

‘Gai-sensei!’ 

Lee forced himself into the empty clearing in front of the bodies, where Might Gai was squaring up to one of the Uchiha. 

‘Lee, stay out of this!’ Gai barked, forcing Lee behind him as he spoke to the Uchiha calmly and sternly. ‘No matter what Hokage-sama says, this isn’t appropriate for the marketplace. There are children here.’

‘Hokage-sama thinks it’s wise that everybody, even children, understand what happens to those who betray the village,’ the Uchiha said. His Sharingan was activated, however he didn’t seem particularly bothered by Gai’s interjection. ‘These three traitors tried to assassinate the Hokage early this morning. Obviously, they didn’t get very far.’  

Sakura shrank back into the crowd. She knew that she shouldn’t be here. She was already on thin ice after the second arrest. She didn’t need more trouble. 

‘Take these bodies down before I do it myself,’ Gai insisted, scowling at the Uchiha who seemed to have nominated himself as leader.

‘You tell them, Gai-sensei!’ Lee called out, before his face turned hazy, his eyes glossed over with a Genjutsu.

Beside her, Tenten gasped. Across the crowd, Sakura spotted Neji who looked torn, as though he wasn’t sure whether or not to intervene. Gai was most definitely powerful enough to take down these officers easily, but everyone knew doing such a thing would brand you a traitor. 

‘Lee…’ Gai checked over his former student, then glanced at each of the Uchiha who smirked at him in response. ‘Which of you did this?’

‘Take your teammate and leave,’ one of the officers stated. ‘We won’t ask nicely again.’ 

‘Which of you did this?’ Gai repeated, lowering his thick brows. ‘I have a new form of the Hidden Lotus I’d quite like to try, the likes of which you’ve never even heard of. If you refuse to tell me who did this to Lee, I’ll be more than glad to give you a demonstration — up close and personal.’ 

A series of murmurs swept through the crowd. Sakura’s felt her heart flip at what Gai was suggesting. 

Is he really planning to start a fight? Here? 

It was a death wish. Or at least, a life sentence of exile from the village. 

The thick tension suddenly snapped when Lee let out a cry and collapsed to his knees. He held his head in both hands. His fingers clutched his skull, tugging his hair in an attempt to mitigate whatever pain he was experiencing. Sakura rushed forward, against all her better judgement, and placed one arm around him to support him before he could fall to the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tenten and Neji emerge from the crowd too, Neji poised for a fight with his Byakugan trained on the three shinobi. One of them locked eyes with Sakura, and his mouth lifted into a cruel smile. 

‘Typical of Haruno,’ he muttered. ‘Whenever there’s trouble, you’re right in the middle. It’s like you’re just begging us to kill you.’ 

The shinobi stepped forward, and Sakura’s heart raced knowing she’d probably blown her last chance just by simply being present in the commotion. She closed her eyes, holding Lee’s limp weight behind her as she shielded him as best she could for whatever the shinobi had in store. 

That was, until someone strolled through the crowd. Sakura felt the overwhelming surge of chakra — the raw power of him — before she even laid eyes on him. 

There he was. Itachi. 

He was wearing a black shirt and pants, looking as calm and collected as he ever was, and playing the role of the Hokage’s first born perfectly. Silence fell on the square as he looked at the three bodies hanging by the posts. Sakura saw it — the flash of upset that flickered across his gaze. It was barely noticeable, yet she’d seen it. Something about it infuriated her. Especially when he ignored her presence entirely and spoke only to the Uchiha guarding the bodies, asking one quiet, simple question. 

‘What is this?’ 

The three Uchiha immediately adjusted their posture, their smiles disappearing as they stood straighter. One replied, ‘Hokage-sama ordered us to place the traitors here to show—‘ 

‘Right now all you’re showing me is how incompetent you are,’ Itachi cut in smoothly. He gestured to the three bodies. ‘Take them away.’ 

‘But Itachi-sama!’ 

Itachi’s eyes fused into sharp pinwheels. Sakura felt her throat lurch with nausea and she looked away, burying her face into the top of Lee’s head. She clutched his unconscious form to her. She just couldn’t look. 

Those eyes bled into her nightmares. 

‘I don’t care what my father says,’ she heard Itachi say dispassionately. ‘Gai-san is right. A display like this is grossly inappropriate. Send these bodies back to the morgue, and ensure their families are notified. They need time to grieve and to arrange for a proper burial.’ 

One of the Uchiha scowled. ’But all traitors are cremated without burial—‘ 

Itachi gave him a look, and another Uchiha swiftly placed a hand over his comrade’s mouth. ‘Yes, of course. We’ll get right to it, Itachi-sama.’ 

The crowd started to dissipate as the three Uchiha scrambled to clear up the commotion they’d caused. Sakura ignored the presence still standing behind her, and placed the cool back of her hand against Lee’s forehead. He didn’t have a temperature, and whatever Genjutsu he had been under seemed to have been dispelled. He would come round eventually, albeit with a horrible headache. It would just take time.

Gai appeared by her side, and thanked her before throwing Lee’s body over his shoulder and taking off over the rooftops. Neji and Tenten gave her a look of gratitude, before they too disappeared with Gai. Sakura was left kneeling on the streets, watching the remainder of the crowd silently shuffle away towards the market stalls. 

He was still behind her. 

She didn’t turn around. 

A hand rested on her shoulder, sending shivers blossoming along her skin. She didn’t resist as he helped her to her feet, but as soon as she was standing immediately pulled away from his touch. She looked only at his feet. 

‘I need to speak with you,’ she muttered. ‘Alone.’ 

‘Very well,’ he replied softly. His slender fingers wrapped around her wrist. ‘We can speak in my office.’ 

The moment Itachi materialised them in his office, he felt Sakura’s wrist wrench from his grasp and he was shoved backwards until he fell against the wall. Perhaps it was rather twisted of him, but there was something incredibly attractive about the way she glared at him. But the flash of desire he felt was soon replaced by remorse when she nursed her wrist to her chest as if burned.  

‘Don’t touch me,’ she hissed. Her eyes were lowered to his feet. 

The last time he’d seen her she had been in the throes of ecstasy, whispering his name in her slumber. It was difficult not to think about what he’d witnessed, especially when it was entirely at odds with the distress he’d caused with just one touch.

Itachi shuffled around his desk, deliberately slow. ‘I apologise. I thought it would be faster to travel this way.’ 

She rooted around in her pocket. He didn’t even flinch as something light and round — a scrunched up piece of paper — hit him in the shoulder. It bounced off his shirt and rolled onto his desk. Itachi unfurled it delicately, coming face to face with one of the ridiculous inauguration posters that his father had requested be posted all over the village. 

‘You’re the one who’s going to be Hokage,’ she said, punctuating each word with knife-like precision. ‘If you’re going to get people to trust you, as in, really trust you, Itachi, don’t just react to shitshows like that was. Perhaps think about how you can stop them from happening to begin with!’

Ah… so that’s why. 

He didn’t actually know about the awful situation that was happening down in the market square until he was down there himself, on his way to the village gates to collect the latest data reports. Regardless, Sakura was right. He needed to be looking for opportunities to earn trust rather than just reacting to every gruesome mistake his father made. The thought of those three bodies strung up on posts left him reeling, especially when he saw the poor state of their corpses. His empathy lay with the families, and he could only hope they were left to grieve their losses in peace. 

‘If I had known about the situation, those people would still be alive,’ he replied earnestly. Sakura didn’t reply, but stood with gritted teeth in the middle of his office. He sat down at his desk. ‘Was this all you wanted to speak to me about?’ 

She shook her head. ‘There’s something you need to know.’

Already, Itachi’s interest was piqued. Her eyes flickered to the door, as if asking him whether or not it was safe to speak. Despite what she might think, Itachi was always careful. His office was well and truly soundproofed and sealed. ‘What is it that I need to know?’ 

She sighed nervously. ’There have been secret meetings between clans. Mostly the Akimichi, Nara and Yamanaka clans, but there are lots of Jounins there too, like Kakashi-sensei. They’ve got a hidden base under the village.’ 

Well, this wasn’t quite what he’d expected.

An underground base…

‘From what I’ve gathered, there are secret entry points across Konoha. The only one I know of is in the back room of the Yamanaka flower shop.’ 

Itachi could have laughed if not for the grim situation they’d witnessed earlier. He should have known better than to doubt the resourcefulness and will of fire that burned passionately through Konoha’s clans. Of course they hadn’t given up on the village, even after all these years. But there was one thing that Sakura hadn’t explained. 

‘And how did you come to find out about this?’ 

‘I was invited to the last meeting by Inoichi-san.’ 

It was a reasonable explanation, given that Sakura was close friends with Inoichi’s daughter. 

‘I told them about you,’ Sakura suddenly murmured. She took a step back, away from his desk, and folded her arms across her chest. ‘I know you’ll be angry at this, but I told them how you were originally supposed to stop the Coup.’ 

Now this was a surprise. As was Sakura’s sudden shy behaviour. Her body was tense, even if her face didn’t betray her emotions. ‘Why would I be angry at you for that?’ 

‘It wasn’t really my place to say.’ 

Discussing a past that wasn’t one’s own was, unsurprisingly, treacherous ground. But Itachi didn’t feel any anger toward her. On the contrary, there was some reassurance about the fact that a large portion of the village knew his truth. The burden was no longer his to carry. 

‘Thank you, Sakura.’

Her brows drew in confusion, then she shook her head. ‘Don’t thank me too soon. They want you to come to the next meeting. It’s in one week’s time. Everyone wants to hear from you.’ 

From me?

He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the incredible woman now leaning against the wall. Here she was, basically handing him allies in the same cause. Despite how disgruntled she was, and how she eyed him warily from the corner of her vision, he wanted so much to kiss her. He knew better than to try. 

‘I’ll be there,’ he replied. 

Sakura nodded, then much to Itachi’s dismay, she walked toward the door. ‘I’ll ask Kakashi-sensei to meet with you. He can give you the details.’ He saw her hand touch the doorknob, then she hesitated. ‘Itachi?’ 

‘Hn?’

‘Is your nose okay?’ Itachi’s heart shuddered when finally she looked him in the eye. ‘I heard Sasuke-kun broke it.’ 

He cleared his throat, nodding. ‘I’m okay. Thank you, Sakura.’ 

Her expression changed to one he couldn’t read as easily. Then she left without another word.

Just power through it, Sakura told herself. Get today over with. 

Several days had passed since the incident in the market square, and it had left a sour taste on the tongues of nearly everybody across the village ever since. She hadn’t sought out or even spoken to Itachi since their conversation in his office. Sakura wished she didn’t feel so nervous about seeing him again at the upcoming meeting, but the butterflies in her stomach persisted nonetheless.  

To distract herself, Sakura decided to throw every ounce of energy she possessed into the hospital. When she wasn’t in the lab, working on antidotes to potential biomedical attacks, she was in surgery doing what she did best: saving lives.  

Currently, she found herself patching up what was left of Naruto after his most recent spar with Sasuke. He’d appeared by her side, bruised and bleeding, yet still grinning toothily at her as he asked for her “magic hands” to heal him. Kakashi followed behind as Sakura dragged her teammate to an empty examination room. 

‘Thank you, Sakura-chan!’ Naruto happily swayed side to side on the edge of the bed as Sakura fretted over the cuts decorating his shoulders. 

‘Idiot,’ she chided. Going by Naruto’s injuries, it looked as though Sasuke had unleashed a rainstorm of shiruken on him. ‘What the hell did you do to rile him up this time?’ 

‘Nothing, I promise. Sasuke-teme just went crazy all of a sudden. It’s not like I said anything bad.’ 

Kakashi spoke from the corner of the room, never once taking his eyes off the small orange book in front of him. ‘It got particularly nasty after Naruto called Sasuke a bug-eyed bastard, I believe.’ 

Sakura pumped glowing green chakra into Naruto’s black eye, watching the rich purple skin lighten to a golden brown. ‘Really? You’ve called him worse than that before. I’m surprised he reacted so badly.’ 

‘So am I!’ Naruto exclaimed. ‘I’m totally innocent here.’ 

’You also said you wanted to, quote, “practice your killer moves” so that you could steal the Hokage position from Itachi-san by karate chopping off his ponytail,’ Kakashi drawled. 

‘You make it sound so lame, sensei!’ 

‘Oh believe me,’ Kakashi sighed, ‘you didn’t need my help with that.’ 

Sakura shook her head, poorly holding back a snigger. ‘Yeah, now it all makes sense. I think I’m on Sasuke-kun’s side here. Besides, chopping off Uchiha Itachi’s hair is like digging your own grave.’ 

‘I dunno about that,’ Naruto said. ‘Whenever we used to have dinner at teme’s house he always seemed chilled out.’ 

Her eye caught Kakashi’s, and all her light humour drained away. 

If only Naruto knew.

Neither she, Sasuke nor Kakashi had mentioned to Naruto about her past with Itachi. It had been almost a silent agreement not to tell him. Firstly, Naruto had already reacted badly about her second arrest, so who knew what he would do if he found out who was directly involved in the first. But secondly, they all knew about Naruto’s inability to control his emotions. Naruto would either square up to Itachi or he would storm into Fugaku’s office. Not to mention, there was a risk of him losing control of the Nine Tails chakra. 

It’s for the best, she convinced herself. 

She finished healing all his wounds, listening to Naruto ramble about the details of the spar and how many clones he’d been able to produce this time. Sasuke seemed to have shown at least a modicum of restraint, since there had been no broken bones or internal injuries. Sakura finished closing the last surface wound as Kakashi snapped his book closed. 

She opened her mouth to announce that he was free to go, however, the moment she did, a shout was heard from somewhere down the corridor.

The three shared a look. Then Sakura swiftly exited the room and followed the sound of a commotion nearby. Kakashi and Naruto trailed after her silently. Several fellow medics were running in the same direction, and from a distance, she could hear her colleagues panicking. As she rounded a corner it became apparent that there was a crowd around the doorway of the laboratory. 

What on earth…

‘What’s going on?’ She asked. ‘Is everyone okay?’

Several medics turned in relief at the sight of her standing there. A young student medic, Misaki, grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her closer. ‘Sakura-san! Thank Kami you’re here,’ she whispered urgently. ‘We need to alert Hokage-sama at once!’ 

Now she was definitely concerned. 

Kakashi appeared by her side. He was holding a curious Naruto back with one arm. He looked to Misaki with the seriousness he held for absolutely emergencies. ’What happened?’ 

Misaki pressed her lips together and tugged Sakura closer to the centre of the crowd.  She glanced once at her teammates behind her, then peered into the laboratory doorway. Inside, several medics were inspecting the walk-in fridges, where the hospital stored and preserved all blood and tissue samples, even from deceased patients who had given their consent prior to death. Usually they were kept under lock and key, yet she could see from here, the locks had been tampered with, the handles damaged and the doors swinging loosely on their hinges, as though someone had forced entry. One of the fridge doors swung open further, allowing Sakura a glimpse inside. 

There was glass and blood on the floor, and several shelves had been emptied entirely of their tissue and blood samples. 

Oh no… oh no no no. 

Itachi closed the door to the Uchiha family home and removed his sandals, placing them neatly to one side. The day had drained him, especially after Hatake Kakashi suddenly reported that numerous tissue and blood samples had been stolen from the laboratory in the hospital. A swift decision was made regarding the large safe in the basement of the Hokage Tower; at least two shinobi were to guard it at all times. 

It was now certain that there was a spy in the Hidden Leaf, and if it was human tissue they were after, they had a duty to ensure the Sharingan of the deceased were protected at all costs. 

Perhaps it was a scheme of Orochimaru or Danzo’s to harvest tissue and produce further Sharingan. He couldn’t be sure. There simply wasn’t enough information to make an accurate estimate. He half wished Kirigakure would make a move just to free them of this suspense. 

What are they waiting for?

Itachi trudged up the stairs to his room, grateful for the fact that the house was quiet and neither his mother nor father were home. He opened the door to his bedroom, hoping to note down his observations before turning in for the evening, only to halt at the sight that greeted him. 

His bedroom wasn’t just slightly altered, like the last time. 

It was completely turned upside down, drawers pulled out, scrolls rolling around on the floor, his clothing strewn about. And in the centre of it all stood Sasuke. 

‘Otouto,’ Itachi began, then he realised that his favourite mission scroll lay open on his desk, and his little brother was clutching something in each hand.

In his right hand, Sasuke’s knuckles were tight around the hairpin in his fist, and in the other was the letter. His eyes were blacker than charcoal and burning with vehemence. He held up the letter, his shaking fingers in danger of tearing through the paper. 

‘Nii-san, explain.’ 

Chapter Text

For the first time in years, Itachi saw red when he looked at his little brother. His little brother who was standing in his bedroom, having invaded his privacy, with the sheer nerve to react in such anger. 

‘You have no business—‘ 

‘She’s my teammate. She’s my friend, Itachi.’ Sasuke held up the letter, eyes narrow. ‘“I often think of our mission together. When you kissed me in that dark hallway, I felt completely and utterly lost in you. I wanted nothing more than to possess you—“‘

Itachi snatched the letter back before Sasuke could read any further, crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into his pocket. His brother’s face was bright red, but Itachi couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed when all he felt was indignation at the betrayal of his trust. He watched Sasuke pace around the room, kicking the clothes and scrolls on the floor. 

‘I mean, what the actual fuck!’ Sasuke finally exclaimed. ‘You actually asked her to marry you?!’

So he read the full extent of the letter. 

Itachi tried to rationalise, to remain calm. ‘This has nothing to do with you. Leave it be.’ 

‘I knew you gave her flowers back then, but I just thought you were asking for a favour, or thanking her for something.’ Sasuke took one look at the hairpin that he was still holding and sneered. ‘I’m guessing this is for her too, huh?’ He tossed it across the room where luckily it landed on the bed. 

‘Leave it be.’ 

‘And what the hell happened between you two on your mission? Did you fuck her in a cabin or something?—‘ 

Itachi moved in an instant, crushing Sasuke roughly against the wall with one forearm against his throat. He felt his brother struggle against him, but right now he didn’t give a damn if it hurt. ‘Leave it be, Sasuke.’ 

‘So I’m right?’ Sasuke wheezed. ‘You fucked her in a cabin somewhere.’ 

‘Don’t even think about being so crude,’ Itachi said firmly. ‘My relationship with Sakura is between me and her. You have no part in this.’ 

‘Bullshit!’ Sasuke growled. 'I’m the one she comes to after she has to deal with the nightmares you gave her.’

Itachi held back a curse. He couldn’t deny the truth. ‘And what have you done to help, otouto? You have the Sharingan too. When she’s suffering every night, where are you to help her?’ 

Sasuke’s eyes flashed red, his mouth curling in disgust. ‘So she was right. You were in her room. I had no idea you were that disgusting.’ 

Itachi froze, perturbed by what he’d just heard. 

Sakura knew? 

She surely hadn’t seen him, unless he wasn’t fast enough. Or perhaps Sasuke was simply saying such things just to make him paranoid. No, he wouldn’t think to go to such lengths. Sakura definitely knew about his visits.

I need to apologise. 

In his musings, Itachi hadn’t realised that his forearm on Sasuke’s neck had loosened a little. Before he realised it, Sasuke had taken advantage of the momentary distraction to swing a fist upwards. Itachi felt the blow crack his cheekbone as he was thrown to the side. Sasuke didn’t manage to proceed much further as Itachi grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him to the nearest wall, once again pinning him there. 

‘You know what this means, don’t you?’ Sasuke snarled. 

‘And what, pray tell, would that be?’ 

‘You can’t marry outside of the clan. You’re the fucking heir, Itachi. You think father will let you become Hokage if you marry her?’

‘He won’t know until after the inauguration,’ Itachi stated.

‘Bullshit. You couldn’t even pull the wool over my eyes, so forget it.’ 

‘He won’t find out.’ 

Somewhere in the background, Itachi swore he heard the front door shut downstairs, and prayed that it wasn’t his father. The chakra signature flashed — as did Sasuke’s eyes. 

Sasuke barked out a laugh. ‘Not if I tell him myself. Just watch.’ 

Itachi’s hand wrapped around Sasuke’s throat, squeezing until his brother’s face turned red. ‘You won’t do such a thing,’ he whispered. ‘Because if you do, it won’t be me who suffers.’ Sasuke’s face softened with realisation. ‘He’ll kill her, Sasuke.’ 

For a split second, even in his strangulation, Sasuke’s eyes seemed to glint with fear. But not for himself. Itachi could only hope that his message had been received, because the conversation was well and truly over the moment the bedroom doorway darkened. 

‘Itachi! Sasuke!’ 

Itachi felt a pair of rough hands prying his own away from Sasuke’s throat. He stepped back, and Sasuke fell to the ground, coughing and clutching his neck. Their father stood before them, having just returned from the Hokage office. His arms were folded as he glared at each of them in turn. 

‘What on earth are you both playing at!?’ His father’s eyes shot to Itachi. ‘You’re supposed to be the heir. I’d expect better than this. If you’re going to spar, do it in a training ground.’

‘A spar?’ Sasuke scoffed, getting to his knees and slowly standing. ‘This wasn’t a spar. Itachi just told me he…’ Sasuke trailed off. 

Their father looked between them, expectantly. He didn’t appear particularly angry anymore, simply irritated. Itachi glowered at his little brother, the threat of violence eminent should he speak a word of what was in that letter. The letter that now felt like lead in his pocket. He hoped his father hadn’t noticed the very female hair pin lying on his bed. 

Tell him then, foolish little brother. 

Sasuke looked at Itachi uncertainly. 

I dare you… tell him. 

Their father turned to Sasuke, who was most likely to crack under pressure. His eyes slowly lightened to red. ‘Well?’ 

‘I borrowed one of Sasuke’s shiruken recently,’ Itachi swept in. ‘Apparently Sasuke doesn’t like to share.’ 

Fugaku’s brows lifted, as though he couldn’t believe such a vicious fight was rooted in such a pathetic reason. Sasuke’s face and neck burned red, and already the dark shadows of bruises could be seen emerging on his throat. Itachi felt a pang of guilt, then told himself he couldn’t feel sorry. His brother had it coming. 

‘Is that true, Sasuke?’ 

Sasuke’s expression turned feral. ‘Itachi has his own shiruken,’ he said slowly. ‘I refuse to share what’s mine.’ 

Sasuke’s words startled him a little, and Itachi had a horrible feeling he’d missed the obvious here. They weren’t really talking about shiruken, that was certain. But did Sasuke? Did he actually? Itachi had asked Sakura about her old schoolgirl crush on his brother at the very start of their mission together, when they had bunkered down in a cave. 

‘Do you still have feelings for him?’ 

‘Not in that way. Not anymore. No offence, but your brother is a stubborn asshole.’

Her answer, whilst reassuring to him back then, left him questioning things now. If Sasuke was suggesting what Itachi thought he was suggesting, that could only mean that Sasuke was jealous, yet refused to do anything about his feelings himself due to clan loyalties. 

Itachi was brought back to the present moment when his father sighed long and hard, holding two fingers to the bridge of his nose. He already knew the shame that he was about to be assaulted with. He was familiar with it by now. 

‘This family is one of the most honourable clans in Konoha’s founding,’ their father uttered, ‘and you both represent me. You need to learn to be civil with each other, because I refuse to have my sons bring shame on this family… especially for such a ludicrous reason.’ 

Their father stalked off down the hallway to his study, massaging his temples as he went. Itachi simply looked at Sasuke. Neither said a word as they listened to the study door click shut. Itachi glanced around the hallway to check it was empty, then he shut the door of his bedroom. 

Sasuke was staring at the floor as though he wanted to burn a hole in it. ‘Now what?’ 

Itachi sat down on the edge of his bed. He closed his eyes and sighed. ’I have given you everything, Sasuke. More than you realise.’ His mind flitted back to the events prior to the Coup. ‘I refuse to give you this.’