Chapter Text
Line 1: Alluding to the Illusion:
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my heart)..."
-"I Carry Your Heart"
-Line 1, Stanza 1
by E.E Cummings
Silence permeates the air, thick and almost oppressive in its presence, dropping the temperature of the room several more degrees.
It’s true that Konoha’s winters vary but this one is not as freezing as it could be. Although there is a potential chance of snow, there is no reason for the Hokage’s office to feel any of the biting drafts of wind from outside.
That does not in anyway stop Sakura from shivering and shifting her weight, rubbing at her elbow and gnawing on her bottom lip. Nor does it stop the tingles of cold dread from making her stomach clench and contract as if trying to shrivel up and pull all of her body heat to the center.
Her sensations of cold are most definitely false as evident from the sweat beads at the nap of her neck, tickling light hairs as it slides down the collar of her shirt. There is a source for this phantom freezing and it’s sitting across from her in a gigantic chair just staring.
The loudest thing in the room is her bobbing jugular as she swallows and watches and waits for some type of answer. It’s been a hell of a long time since Kakashi made her nervous but his silence is messing her up all kinds of ways on the inside. The fact that she’s functioning on less than 6 hours of sleep spanning three days, makes her twitch at a simple, lazy blink.
It’s the first response in the full five minutes of their stare down. Sakura counted. At the three hundredth second, the Hokage’s dull grey eyes flicker down to the thickly bound book laid out on his desk.
Her pulse escalates in hope.
Sakura stretches her eyes to see his next action. Hands tightly clasped behind her back, the high ranking kunoichi balances precariously on tiptoes, glancing between the document she’s so carefully drafted and her former sensei. He takes his time with placing gloved fingers on the opened page then gradually turns it.
Sweat trickles down the middle of her back. Sakura licks her top lip and stares intently at the Hokage. She knows what chapter he’s turned to, could recite it verbatim if he asks. It’s by far her favorite and seeing Kakashi’s gray eyes glued to the pages only makes her nervousness and impatience at his reaction more apparent.
If Kakashi notices her poorly concealed restlessness, he does a great job at playing calm. He keeps his head slightly down, looking at the pages on the book before him. Actually it is not a book at all, but a proposal composed by Konoha’s lead medic.
It is the size of a book though. For Sakura being as thorough as she is, included clauses and sub clauses and sub sub clauses to every recommendation. This particular set of recommendation took the longest time and the most research. It’s why it is her favorite section in the entire proposal. Now Kakashi can share in her joy or at least she hopes he will feel the same joy she felt when typing this up.
So she waits. Impatiently but quiet, watching for any sign of approval.
Outside a gust of wind blows, swaying distant trees. Sakura glances away at the window behind Kakashi, noting the height of the moon.
I can’t wait to sleep . She thinks.
A remissful sigh escapes, distracting her from Kakashi and her work long enough to regret the approaching crash of too much coffee and soldier pills.
At least I finished with this. I’ll have to take at least a day off for it but tomorrow shouldn’t be too tragic. With exception to that one case, any other major surgeries are done and no one is due back from missions tomorrow...
Her thoughts travel in speculation. Sakura stares out of the window, pondering possible freak accidents that would warrant her to scrub in. How long her reverie goes, she’s unsure but it’s long enough for the unbroken silence to register.
Kakashi hasn’t said a word.
Green eyes flicker from the window down to the book.
The Hokage hasn’t moved an inch in any sense of the word. Not even reading.
He’s still on the same page, hand still in the same spot, gaze blaringly unfocused.
Sakura blinks once then frowns.
Has he even…?
Groaning inwardly she drops down to her heels. Nerves, the silence and the cold win out over patience. Her temper that she’s been smothering from the time she’s entered this office forces her to take two steps towards the desk. Kakashi glances up as her hand comes down over the heading and taps the page.
“The parameters of these clauses extends beyond the clinics,” Sakura clarifies.
Kakashi raises a brow.
Sakura waits for more of a reaction to her statement.
The Hokage offers none.
She huffs and further elaborates, “I believe it’s important to make preventative measures with regards to current and future kunoichi hoping to have children. There needs to be failsafes.”
The Copy Ninja’s lips dip into a frown beneath his mask and, if it is impossible, he looks even bored than he did a few seconds ago.
Sakura’s brow twitches at his lackluster response to her dedication and efforts to improve an outdated system.
The last time Konoha took a step back to examine its medical and social practices was the Second and Third Shinobi War and that’s been decades ago. She’s spent the last few months of her life bathing in updated solutions and the only thing Kakashi offers is a blink.
Don’t get upset. She mentally chants. He’s lazy and everybody knows it. Let’s try this again, shall we?
“The current programs we have in place aren’t exactly the most efficient. We already have an orphanage flooded with children that Kabuto is looking after. I believe if there were more options for women other than have a baby and leave the service, we can limit the number of orphaned children. Also, if you turn a few pages,”
She does the liberty for him and Kakashi moves his hand back to his lap to allow her to turn the pages.
“I also suggest an adoption service just in case. It’s something Temari told me they have in Suna and I think it’s a good…”
Kakashi’s eyes drift and stare longing at the large window.
“...idea…” Sakura trails off and stands straight then looks at the window out into the night skyline of her beloved village. She frowns. “I know it’s late but…”
“Yes it is.”
It’s the first words Kakashi’s uttered since his initial questioning of why she came banging on his office door well past midnight.
“This work is very extensive,” grey eyes shift back to greens ones. “And detailed.”
A part of Sakura swells with pride at what she considers a hardy compliment. Mentally she partly forgives him for not taking her work seriously.
The medical ninja stands straighter and nods, looking elsewhere to avoid a self satisfying girn.
“It took some time.” Sakura proudly announces.
“Sakura, why are you here?”
“Huh?”
The Copy-Ninja’s tune turns uncompromising, bordering on accusatory as he questions.
Kakashi repeats. “Why are you here ?”
His tone washes over like ice, cooling her pride instantly and drawing unsureness that makes her fidget. “Because of the proposal.”
Sakura looks at the book and gestures to it. “I wanted to discuss some of the details with you, hash out particulars.”
“Ah,” the Hokages tone is less than satisfied.
“I figured you'd still be here when I finished so-"
Kakashi’s grey brow tentatively rises, “When you finished? Did you do all of this tonight?”
“No!” Sakura quickly and defensively answers. “I did the final edits tonight. It took me nearly three days to type all of this and months of research. “
To her surprise, the Copy Ninja whistles and leans back in his chair. “Impressive.”
“Very,” her retort borders sarcasm and she crosses her arms. “So are you going to read It?”
Grey eyes ponder the ceiling for far longer than Sakura thinks is necessary before he offers a curt and short, “No.”
“No?”
“Not yet,” his clarification doesn't make his answer any less cryptic or annoying.
“Why not?”
Kakashi reaches to close the proposal, in the process of pushing it aside next to the other piles and piles of papers on his desk. “For reasons,”
Quickly, before she can register, a firm hand comes down on top the paper and stops the physical dismissal of her hard work. Green eyes met grey and she cocks a brow at him.
She is already being bold, Sakura pushes the envelope and dares to question.
“What reasons?” she presses.
Kakashi doesn't seem the least bit fazed by her display. Inwardly Sakura is sure he's just waiting for her to move her hand as evident by the way he looks down and stares longing at her fingertip. In moments like these, she's both aware and grateful that her former sensei is also the Hokage, small acts of defiance tend to go unpunished.
Sakura’s never been more tempted to push her luck with this until now.
“Why won't you look at it?” she reiterates, a little softer this time.
Kakashi shifts his gaze back to her. Sakura swallows, expecting an answer that her Hokage offers minutely.
“Well first,” he drawls and pushes his chair back, “I want to go have a shower. For that, I need to go home. Second,”
He stands and steps from behind the desk. Sakura eyes him as he shimmer his way around a stack of documents to the other side of his desk where she stands still half bent over holding her proposal. Kakashi strolls over to a wooden coat rack and pulls off his Hokage hat. With a deep sigh he shakes out naturally light grey hair then places the hat at the top of the rack.
Sakura furrows her brows as she watches his back, waiting for him to continue where he left off.
He doesn't.
He does, however, remove his robe, shake it a little then drapes it on the front most hook. Kakashi grabs his lower back with both hands and leans back until it cracks. He rocks to the left, then the right, aligning his spine with every shift. If not for the fact that she's sure he is just messing with her by ignoring her on purpose, Sakura would have told him that his movements were extremely unhealthy to do when his muscles were not warmed up first. She glares at his back, pulls herself upright and crossed her arms.
“ Ahem? ” Sakura impatiently questions.
Kakashi looks over his shoulder at her and asks in a voice way too sweet to not be sarcastic. “Hm?”
“Kakashi!” Sakura exclaims.
“Whatever happened to respecting elders and leaders of villages?”
The medical jounin grunts and rolls her eyes. “The second reason, Lord Hokage ?”
“Oh. That.”
He turns his head back before turning around to face her. The seriousness in his older and wiser grey eyes make her stand straighter. Kakashi walks up to her and Sakura feels her anger cool when he stares down his nose at her. Instantly she’s reminded of her genin days when this man offered some offbeat but true wisdom. No matter how smart she is or how old she gets, Kakashi will always be older.
When her former sensei finally speaks, he punctuates every word. “ You need to go home.”
Sakura opens her mouth but closes it just as quickly, coming up short for words. She looks down at the floor, trying to decipher his intention. There is always more with Kakashi, layers to his words. So she thinks a bit before meeting his gaze once more.
“I have been home,” she defends, “I did everything like I was supposed to and the mission report was given to Shizuen. I'm sure she put it on--”
“I have it,” Kakashi says cryptically, “But it's rather...brief. As were the other two from three days ago.”
“There wasn’t stipulations on length before.”
“True,” Kakashi agrees, “But I expect a briefing from a mission to be less...brief, more thorough, as thorough as is possible.”
“Every detail was included.” Sakura defends but Kakashi quickly cuts her off.
“Summarized in a rushed one page document. As a jounin, I expect you to take your mission seriously, Sakura.”
She bites the inside of her cheek at the reprimand and squares her shoulders “I do take this seriously.”
Kakashi rocks light on his heels and offhandedly replies “And yet you’re here, while the person you are assigned to keep an eye is elsewhere.”
Sakura glares this time and crosses her arms in defense. “There’s an Anbu stationed around the premises.”
Kakashi nods, “Very true and we’ve only chosen the best of the best. But that Anbu does not have the wherewithal to outmaneuver a Mangekyou Sharingan.”
“Itachi doesn’t even have his Sharingan anymore!”
“Because of you.”
Sakura throws her arms up in defeat. “You do realize that I’m Konoha’s lead medic, right? My missions are both on and off the field. You can’t expect me to neglect one for the other.”
“I expect you to be a well balanced shinobi, able to perform in all capacities. Regardless of the number of mission as is your rank, no duty should be replaced with another. Particularly when one of your missions require constant supervision.”
Sakura flushes as both anger and embarrassment aries simultaneously. She came in here for a consultation of sorts and is instead met with the third degree.
“You have got to be kidding me” She challenges, “You’re making it sound like I’m shrinking my duties and that this mission is somehow more important or dangerous than treating poison patients.”
Kakashi nods once. “Closer to my original point, yes.”
This time she smacks her teeth in defiance and folds her arms. “It’s been four years. If he was going to do something to us, he would have done it already.”
“That’s a dangerous assumption, Sakura. What gives you the authority to say such a thing?”
“Four years of guard duty!” Sakura exclaims.
He jerks his head in agreement and offers some common ground. “Fair enough, you’ve been around him for some time. That doesn’t change the fact that he was once the most wanted missing nin in this village.”
“For reasons that had nothing to do with his own plans! Was he not on your Anbu team? Wasn’t it you that conjured up this mission in the first place? If Itachi was going to be a threat to us all, I highly doubt you would have wanted to reintegrate him back into Konoha from the start.”
For a second, Kakashi says nothing. Sakura wades in the joy of shutting him up for a few seconds.
That is, until he speaks again.
“As your Hokage, I’m going to repremind you on your lapse in judgment by underestimating a known threat. Regardless of my reasoning, we both know Itachi can be motivated to do something if it fits his convictions.” Kakashi observes.
Sakura looks away, both embarrassed and defeated while Kakashi continues.
“As a friend,” he hedges and takes a step closer, “I’m going to overlook that lapse for the moment. Is something wrong, Sakura?”
“Huh?” she questions, suddenly caught off guard.
The air in the room shifts and Sakura watches as the man before her struggles for words. Whether Kakashi really means that’s she slacking off or he’s just trying to get her angry enough to leave, she isn't sure. But the last question leaves her heart beating faster for a different reason.
She hates these questions. At any given moment she can swing between being ‘okay’ and having a total meltdown. So drastic are her mood swings that picking one is almost impossible.
Is she okay?
Depends on the second of the day the question is asked . She thinks bitterly and frowns.
As of this moment, Sakura is more confused than anything. This has less to do with the ‘normal’ humdrum of her life and more to do with the man avoiding eyeing contact as he scratches his hair.
“It’s been awhile…” Kakashi finally hedges, “Maybe time has made you lax?”
Avoiding eye contact, the medical jounin releases the tension in her shoulders.
I should have known he wasn’t trying to be mean. I swear Kakashi has the oddest ways of showing concern.
Sakura uses the desks as a leaning post, pressing her lower against it as she slouches. When she speaks, her words come calm and slow.
“It’s not that. Itachi has one more year of this monitored probation before he’s free. We both can agree that he’s not stupid. Trust me, I’d be the first to say that my trust in Itachi is minimal at best.”
She glances at him and shrugs one shoulder as she tries to clarify without inciting more concern than necessary. “ Do I think he has the ability to be nefarious? Absolutely. But he’s not a man without a cause. He doesn’t act just because. Years ago, his motivation was Sasuke. Now that Sasuke’s gone, Itachi doesn’t have a reason to do anything.”
To her surprise, Kakashi crinkles his eyes and jokes, “If I didn't know better, I’d think you were his wife.”
The words make her grimace and look away from him, frowning. The ease she felt a few seconds ago is washed out with an odd feeling of detachment. Though a lot transpired in the four years since she took the mission to be Itachi's watchman, certain things still make her uncomfortable.
“That’s not funny” she retorts and looks obliquely at her former teacher.
“I’m simply making an observation. Your defense was so...well thought out.”
“I was defending myself .”
“It was riddled with so much passion, I almost thought you two were lovers.”
“I’m going to throw something at you.”
“Now, now, no need to beat up an old man.”
“Stop saying stuff like that.”
He holds up his hands up defensively and peeks around them at her. Kakashi tentatively offers, “Friends, then?”
“Partners ,” Sakura corrects, “on an assignment that should be under review in three days."
“Someone sounds ready to be relieved of duty. Is that why you’re avoiding going home to chat about reports that can definitely wait until morning?” Kakashi pauses then admends, “Later in the morning.”
Of course he would catch it. Sakura thinks sourly and sighs. “I’m not...avoiding…”
Her former senesi raises a challenging brow, she clarifies. “I really wanted to get these reports done. It has nothing to do with Itachi. Honest.”
When Kakashi says nothing, Sakura insists. “Really, when I need a break from Itachi I take one but I’m okay. ”
Just as quickly as her solution rangs out, the old man offers a crinkled smirk behind his mask, “I believe you, Sakura. ” Kakashi practically sings.
His tone throws her for a loop and Sakura pulls back in confusion. “What?”
“Far be it for me to get between a lover's quarrel.”
“Kakashi, I swear,”
“But ,” Kakashi hums then placing a hand on either of her shoulders, he forces her around towards the door. “if things get too out of hand, I'll take meddling into further consideration.”
“Further?” Sakura questions, looking over her shoulder as she’s gentle but hardly subtle pushed out of the office. “Meaning you’ve already given some consideration…?”
“You don’t miss a thing do you, Sakura? Did I tell you you were always my favorite?” His eye crinkle increases, raising alarm bells like the night Kakashi told her about her current mission.
“Liar,” Sakura accuses, “What are you up to?”
“Itachi’s unique situation hasn’t gone unnoticed. But we’ll talk more about that another day. Until then,”
He gives her a not so gentle shove into the hall. Sakura stumbles over the carpet. Catching her footing she turns around just in time for Kakashi to give her a half hearted two finger salute.
“Later,” he greets before the telltale pop and puff of smoke reveals the clone she’s been conversing with for the past half hour.
Sakura glares at the closed door and grumbles. “Jerk. I need to shower my butt! And what unique situation!”
There’s no use in arguing with the vapors of a shadow clone so the distinguish medic turns away, leaving the Hokage Tower for the walk home. She doesn’t have to walk. There are plenty of rooftops that will make this journey much quicker. But days of energy spent leaves her exhausted. She exhales and rubs her shoulders, deciding on the longer way though longer is relative. Walking always gives her time to reflect and reflecting usually lends itself to clarity.
Sometimes I feel like I never grow out of my own shadow. Take me seriously for once!
Strolling along empty streets kissed by midnight frost, the medical jounin tugs at the hood of her coat and scowls at nothing.
While Kakashi may have meant well, it almost always comes across as misogynistic. When I need help, I’ll ask for it. Trust me a little when I say I know what I’m doing. Yeah Itachi can be a challenge but I wouldn’t lie! Those reports took me days to work through and are worth looking over.
Breathe comes out in visible white huffs. Sakura tucks her chin in the top of her coat and watches her feet.
“He didn’t mean it like that, I know…” she mumbles to herself. “Get over yourself, Sakura. You’re well pass the age of needing to prove yourself. I’ve done so much...this mission’ll be another milestone I’ve passed.”
She walks the rest of the way in silence. It takes all of twenty minutes to walk the lamp lit streets to her little house on the corner. Separated from its neighbors by two Sango-Kaku trees and a cluster of juniper shrubs pressed against an oak fence, the modest abode blends with the modern turns of the city while retaining lots of traditional flare.
This place was custom built just for them. A gift of sorts from Kakashi to make this mission more a success and an easier pill to swallow. Neighbors are there but not too close. A God sent considering the twist and turns their mission has taken. On the far reaches of a growing neighborhood close enough to the old Uchiha Compound that it doesn’t seem unusual for them to settle there. Yet still a stone’s throw from civilization that if anything should happen, it can be seen from the Hokage Tower and acted upon immediately.
Sakura walks the short path that winds through the gate in their front yard. Illuminated by tiny flood lights, something Itachi installed years ago, she takes the two short steps to the sleek, modern black door.
Distance movement tingles on the edges of her awareness. Sakura pauses and looks up towards the roof. A gentle gust makes her turn around to the Anbu crouched on her fence.
“Sakura-san,” Dog greets with an inclination of his head.
“Oh it’s you,” Sakura offers a soft smile of gratitude, “Thanks for staying again tonight. Anything to report?”
“Uchiha is routine, rarely diverges.” Dog juts his chin at the window. “ It’s quiet. He’s probably sleeping.”
Hopefully , Sakura thinks but wisely keeps those words to herself.
“Yeah that sounds about right. The Hokage’s left the office. I advise giving him the mission report in the morning.”
With a nod, Dog disappears. Sakura opens the door to darkness and the sweet earthy smell of juniper wood. Sakura takes her time with removing her shoes in the entryway. She looks around as her eyes adjust to the dim lights coming from the kitchen. The tendrils of normalcy echo in the layout of her living room and a small hallway containing the stairs. A wedding photo strategically placed on the end table, Sakura switches on the lamp to give herself more light. There’s another set of frames on the mantle, some of them, some of Sakura as a child. None of Itachi before returning to the village. But the picture of Team Seven rests in the middle of all of them, a reminder of what Sakura is doing all of this for.
Despite the ruse, she has tried to make this place more of a home for her over the years. It is her home, no matter how she slices it. Sakura wanders into the kitchen for something to chew on before bed. Sliding open the shoji doors, a small white box with a note sitting in the middle of the table greets her. Sakura glances around the kitchen and dining room combo, noting things that are his and things that are hers, she spots the thing she knew would be waiting for her.
“If that’s dinner”, green eyes swing to the table, “what’s this?”
A weariness takes her. She walks suspiciously to the table and kneels, picks up the note and gets a waft of something...sweet. She flips open the paper and settles on her knees. Itachi’s small, but pristine script reads:
‘Hinata made a chocolate tart assuming you would be home. The remainder of which is here as well as the recipe she wished to share. She also brought some new tea from Naruto’s last trip to the Land of Tea. It is a type of kombucha that pairs well with the tart. The kombucha is in the refrigerator. Dinner is near the stove.’
“Oh, Hinata made cake!” she softly exclaims and repositions herself to lean over the white box.
Tossing the note aside, she pulls off the lid only to be greeted with a mostly eaten tart save maybe two decent slices.
“...and Itachi ate most of it…”
Sakura sighs, closes the tart box and goes to the dinner instead. She’s not terribly hunger for a full meal and the cake isn’t her ideal ‘small bite’ so she places them both in the fridge for tomorrow.
“I’ll be off so at least I have something already precooked.”
She leaves the kitchen in favor a shower. Up the stairs, more reminders of a mission that’s take four years and counting. Sakura passes a small vase in the short hallway, the only keepsake from Itachi’s childhood. Not a year ago, a similar object was a casualty in a turbulent partnership. Things are better, not the best but better than they were. Sakura makes due with what she has. Itachi hardly ever fusses. They move with and around each other, not quite friends, no longer enemies. They have to work together or this entire mission falls apart. So somethings are inevitable, like her knowing his affinity for sweets, and him making sure she has food after long nights spent at the hospital.
Their bathroom boost of a much greater partnership. Their home is fitted with only one and a single bedroom for then to ‘share’.
Her shampoo.
His soap.
Her comb.
His brush.
Sakura ignores the doubles of items, too tired to dread and too used to it to be sour. They keep their things on opposite sides anyway. So she turns her back to Itachi’s things and hops in the shower for twenty minutes of much needed stress relief. She stays in there until she’s decent, dressed and dried.
With a tired sigh, she turns off lights both downstairs and upstairs before venturing into the bedroom she shares. It’s too dark for her to see but Sakura doesn’t need light to know there’s someone else’s laying on the other side of the. She’s perfected the art of ignoring him at night.
Slipping between covers, careful not to cross the barrier they’ve established, she turns her back to Itachi and let’s the day’s worries slip in favor of much needed sleep.
While Sakura is usually late to bed, Itachi is always early to rise. As winter hums over the sleepy village, Itachi meets morning twilight as his day starts at dawn. He is far from the only person traversing the village before the sun can give enough light to properly be called day. Naruto is awake. Itachi knows this by the pull and signature of chakra near the Uchiha section of Konoah’s Cemetery. His own chakra fuels the genjutsu that only recognizes and allows in a limited few. Every time Naruto or Sakura goes, Itachi always know. It’s a feeling, a tugging at the edges of his awareness that someone passed through the illusion.
The future Hokage spends the better part of an hour there and when he leaves, a flood of chakra returns to him. Coils loosen to capitalize on and maximize the flow throughout his body. It’s more than just an energy boost, his entire being responds and Itachi jumps backwards, landing on bare feet.
He’s adjusted to the seals keeping his chakra at more of a sedated state. If anything, the lack thereof forces him to focus more on his muscle’s ability than anything else. Though chakra is more than just fuel for magic tricks, the small boost after more than an hour of being without pooled into different resources is refreshing. His body appreciates it and the skilled shinobi harnesses his new strength by pulling himself upright and squaring his shoulders once more. Before him, an oak tree whose bark is strong enough to withstand the coming assault. Lean muscles flex in preparation. His hands go up near the sides of his face, open palm prepared to strike. His right foot drags backwards. Itachi plants his heel firmly into the dirt and bends his left knee.
Thank you, Naruto. The outlines of a smirk tug at his lips as anticipation mounts.
Deep breath in and then out again. The cold tickles at his lungs but it’s nothing compared to how it feels against his unclad chest. Today’s conditions make for harsher training. It’s not terribly cold. In fact, if he dons his shirt, he may feel more warmth. But the material is long since discarded next to his bag, leaving Itachi in loose fitting pants and nothing across his chest or on his feet.
He squares off with the tree, coal black eyes narrowed in unwavering concentration.
Stay focused.
His core braces for an invisible punch, pulling in warmth and adding stability. He waits until his body is solid and still, stacked on top of itself so shoulders and hips and knees lineup with each other. While the center of him is a rock, Itachi keeps his knees flexible. Light on the balls of his right foot, muscles in his hands loose tension and he relaxes his fingers.
Unwilling to lose concentration over something so mundane as Naruto paying a visit to his brother or let his heart rate drop, Itachi pulls power from his hip, pivots his left foot and swings his right leg up, smashing into the side of the tree with his shin.
Just as explosive as his kick, his retreat shuffles him around the tree, shoulders rocking as he throws three palm strikes in quick succession. A kick follows, then a shuffle and another barrage of palm strikes.
Left strike, right strike, elbow, kick and shuffle.
Itachi dances alone in the forest around a large oak under the winter’s early morning sun. He strikes again, adds a dip and dodge from an invisible enemy then goes on the offensive once more. Sweat and swings fly, his breath puffs out in white vapors.. Hair sways with every extension of his body. Harnessing his new chakra, Itachi adds a little more power to his hits, kicks a bit harder with his left leg and switches feet much faster.
It’s far too cold for him to properly heat up. His body teeters between sweating to keep cool and shivering to keep warm. Itachi has to regulate his oxygen or he’ll be huffing not five minutes into his routine or end up with hypothermia before this training session ends. Worse still, his lung could fail him and his sickness forces him to cough up blood. The challenge only makes him attack the oak tree with more vigor. The higher his heart rate the more heat he generates. If he stops moving, he’ll freeze.
So the dance goes on, the only thing changing is the order with which he strikes the tree. Sometimes a jab, other times an open palm followed by hooks and elbows and kicks both high and low. All the while, he stays agile, always moving, always assessing the battlefield for enemies coming from the left, right and behind.
End it swifty!
Itachi knows that his stamina is quite low, so getting through all of his movements as quickly as possible is essential. He changes stances and shuffles backwards just enough for a running start. Propelling forward, he uses speed to run the length of the tree, as far as gravity and his quads will let him without chakra. Before he can fall, the Uchiha pushes away, arching his back as he soars through the air.
Quickly, he snatches kunai from his pants pockets. They fly through the air just as gracefully as his body arches through it. Hands at the ready, Itachi pulls his legs up so his body tilts then turns. His fingers slid across the ground. Itachi twists before he falls out of the handstand, then opens his legs and spins around before finally stopping in a deep lunged crouch.
Ten seconds slower.
Brows narrow, Itachi grinds his teeth then lunges for the tree again. This time he runs and kicks away, snatching a kunais from targets as he bounces between a neighboring oak, gathering all of them before gravity forces him to the dirt on his knees.
Twenty seconds slower. I’ve pushed my limit.
Breathless, muscles burning and feeling slightly lightheaded, Itachi takes a moment to just inhale the crisp cooling air. He stays low and stabs the kunai in the dirt. When he’s sure standing will not be too much, pulls himself up and tilts his head back towards the sky. A canopy of branches hides the sun, letting in small glimpses of light through gray clouds.
His training is over.
Itachi clears his throat. There’s a mild tightness in his lungs. He wheezes through it and gathers things scattered throughout the forest. The training grounds he frequents is a small portion of what was the old Uchiha Training grounds. Now, it’s an extension of a much larger training area. But most people won’t venture to this edge and Itachi usually has the area to himself.
He dresses, packs his things, shoulders his bag and walks through the winding paths of untouched forest. So much of the village has changed. Neighborhoods spring up every day. While he understands the need for modernity, a part of him relishes in the days when he walked through trees and on dirt paved roads to the Uchiha Compound.
He stays on the path for as long as he can before veering off and out of the underbrush, onto the streets that lead in town. There’s no use in going home first. They are lacking food and since he knows that Sakura has slept all of four hours, the shopping falls to him. It’s just as well. Itachi usually does the shopping for the both of them as Sakura’s duties often leave her schedule too heck to squeeze in groceries.
The wind does a great job of drying perspiration. Though his muscles twitch with aches from a lack of stretching (something he makes a mental note to do once he’s inside), Itachi goes into his bag and puts on his cloak. He tucks his chin inside, covering all the way up to his nose and secures his bag on his shoulder once more. Taking a different route, he turns and heads towards the center of the village.
“Perhaps seafood today,” Itachi muses aloud and starts down the street towards the market.
He keeps his strides slow and steady. The walk in town is a familiar one. He coasts through Konoha’s streets passing women who watch him in curiosity.
If time allows, I will pass by the Yamanaka Flower Shop for more seeds. I need more winter plants. I’ll have to move the others inside the screened porch before they die of frostbite.
The winding road opens to buildings. In a few minutes, Itachi walks just enough to touch civilization again as evident by rising smoke from restaurants. Stalls and businesses come into view. Wafts of freshly baked goods and brewed drinks tease the air. Konoha awakens and those who enjoy early morning shopping walk the streets.
A returning group of genin whisper as he walks by, taking steps back to let him through. Not too far away another group points and giggles.
Itachi glances at the sky, tracing the position of the sun. From what he can see, it’s still early enough for his favorite venture to be out at the open market.
“Hopefully, the things I need are still there.” he mutters to himself, and chances a glance at a woman who grabs her daughter’s hand and crosses the street.
She offers him a pretty smile, tinted with a dust of pink on her cheeks. Itachi closes his eyes and lets his instinct carry him the rest of the way.
“Uchiha-san, looking for something good for dinner?” a chirpy voice calls out to him from inside the bazaar.
Only one person has the wherewithal to yell at him from feet away. The other venders remain relatively quiet with his approach, the people look up when he ducks under the canopy that shields Konoha’s Morning Market. Through concealed gasps, unimpressive whispers and passing glances, Itachi focuses his eyes on a round and relatively short young woman waving a freshly sliced burdock root.
“You’re a little late for the morning shopping.” Her smile is bright and genuine.
She offers the root to him and ignores the others who either turn away or watch him with curiosity. “Maybe some kinpira gobo? This baby was pulled fresh today!”
The woman is one of the few who show no outward qualms with him. Normally her stall is further towards the back, though Itachi is pleased to be addressed. It gives the other shopkeepers reason to both ignore him and smile at him. He looks down at the root.
“Minami-san,” he greets her and juts his chin in the direction of her stall. “Do you have carrots?”
She beams at him. “You bet. Yellow and purple, great for winter. They’re from yesterday’s harvest though, I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“Not at all.”
“Come browse around, then. I think Kento has some mackerel left from the morning’s shipment. You can make a nice teishoku.”
Minami takes hold of his wrist and pulls him along as she rattles of recipes. Itachi gladly follows behind the woman, allowing himself to be tugged along through the rows of vendors.
While her excitement is admittedly adorable, Itachi takes a moment to interrupt when she stops babbling to take a breathe. “I was thinking tempura for tonight and eel for lunch.”
Brown eyes swing around and she arches a slightly bushy brow. “Prawns?”
“And earthy vegetables, if possible.”
“A go to meal for you, I see. Hm, I have eggplant and potatoes, white and sweet. Here we are, shop around and I’ll bag the burdock root for you.”
“Hn,” Itachi agrees and stops before the stall.
Minami arranges her items by fruits and vegetables, then separates them further by color. It makes for a spectacular eye catching rainbow effect that appeals to his neat instincts. It’s the thing that drew him to her and her uncle’s store in the first place. Though the older man looked leery upon his approach, Minami greeted him with a smile and thank you for his help against keeping the village safe. Then she quickly followed that up with an apology for having to go against his brother. Her stuttered embarrassment was refreshing and he’s given them his business ever since.
Itachi takes several small plastic bags and goes about selecting a variety of vegetables and fruits. As he does so, Minami watches him with a small smile from her vantage on a stool near the register. He’s aware of her eyes on him, even more aware that she seems to be debating between speaking or silence. He offers her a bone.
“Has business been slow today, Minami-san?” Itachi inquires while testing the softness of a melon.
The brunette shrugs and waves her hands in a way that can mean confusion and acceptance. “Kind of but not really. I mean, we had customers at day break. The loyal ones usually come around the same time. But Oji-san went home about two hours ago because he said we didn’t need two people here today. So, I guess it’s been a bit slow.”
“You disagree?”
“With it being slow?” she counters in confusion.
Itachi stops selecting apples to look at her. “With your oji-san going home early.”
Minami pauses long enough to wrinkle her nose. “I think that the old man just didn't want to be out in the cold.”
Itachi carries his bags of fruits and vegetables to her cash register. “He is getting quite old.”
She snorts at his comment and rolls the melon towards her. “Sounds like a bunch of excu--,”
“Minami-chan!” An older woman lingering on the outskirts of the stale calls.
The both of them turn to her and though she does offer a polite smile, it’s tight at best. Minami glances at him, looking once again at a crossroads for what to do.
“I can wait,” he offers and she smiles in relief turns to go to the woman then turns back around as if she’s forgotten something.
After grabbing a small purse, Itachi watches as Minami greets the woman with a smile. They chat for a little while before exchanging a bag of something for cash. When Minami returns, the telltale familiar sticky sweet scent hits Itachi with a wave of nostalgia. Though there is very little resemblance with exception to the brown hair, Minami’s kind nature often reminds him of Izumi. If he closes his eyes and allows his mind to drift, the smell of dango conjures memories of them on the dock near the Uchiha train grounds. He and Izumi sitting together, sharing dango. It’s a nice memory, one that he keeps filed away along with other cherished things.
Minami weights his assortment of bags. Itachi pays his due as she rearranges things to make it easier for him to carry. And as he’s situating things beneath his cloak, Minami’s voice draws his attention.
“Here,” she says.
Itachi looks up and then down at the small white box holding one of his greatest weaknesses inside. Automatically he swallows and looks up at her with a raised brow. Minami just offers a kind and knowing grin.
“I have two more boxes anyway. Think of it as a...pick me up. You looked a little down before I saved you from the infinite stares of the masses. I can’t make that go away but I can at least give you some of your favorite food.”
“...How did you know?”
Minami nods in the direction the woman disappeared to. “Her husband owns the dango shop you frequent...apparently every other day.
“Ah,”
He knew the woman looked familiar, but never made the connection to the old man that he often shares tea and sweets with.
Gratitude prompts him to bow gently at the shopkeeper. “You are very kind, Minami-san,” he offers. “Thank you for this.”
She laughs outright and shoves his shoulder to make him stand. “Oh come on, Uchiha-san, you’re embarrassing me now. It’s just dango. I haven’t done anything spectacular.”
“Dango is spectacular,” Itachi says with enough conviction to make Minami laugh. As he straightens, notes the comically red blush creeping down her neck.
She huffs playfully and ties the dango in a bag, as well his fruits for the day. “You don’t say? Well, I guess I should expect any less from a man that is the main bread and butter of a dango shop. Reminds me of the rumors about Naruto-san and his infatuation for ramen. Did you know he only goes to one place to eat it? There’s tons of ramen places but he only frequents the same place and gets the same thing!”
“I’ve been there,” Itachi concedes and gathers his things, “The ramen is quite good. Have you tried it?”
Minami crosses her arms and twists her lip in disbelief. “I’m not much of a ramen fan, strange as it sounds. You like what you like huh? Anyways, don’t keep all the dango for yourself. Share with Sakura-san, okay?”
Itachi nods. “Of course, Minami-san.”
Minami offers him a pleasant grin before reminding him to get to Kento before the man closes shop. The fish market isn’t too far away, but good seafood is always best gathered in the morning. While shrimp and eel are favorites of Konoha citizens, Kento has both in plenty supply.
Itachi greets the older man with a nod. They discuss the day while he shops. Unlike Minami, Kento’s disposition appears a lot less friendly though he is quite harmless. He’s worked the waters around Konoha for decades and sold his goods since he was a teenager. In that time, he’s known Itachi all of his life. This is the same man he and his mother frequented in his childhood.
While most of the village had more questions about why Itachi acted the way he did the night of the Massacre, Kento is the only person who shook his head.
“I don’t wanna know,” Kento told him the first time Itachi crossed his path. “Your mother always said you were a kind child. Your father spoke highly of you. I’ve seen you grow from the time you could walk. I don’t wanna know why you did it. But I believe the kid that I saw shopping with his mother. And that’s it.”
Itachi respects him for it.
They never talk about his family. They never talk about Sasuke. They hardly ever talk about Sakura. Most of the time, it’s just what seafood Itachi needs. Not in a mean way. Kento is all business. But rarely, on some occasions when he’s getting everything pack, Kento will make some one off remark about his life.
“Making her favorite again?” Kento comments in the dull and slightly uninterested way he always speaks and double bags the prawns so they don’t leak.
“Hm.” Itachi replies.
The conversation stops for a moment will the eel is wrapped. Kento keeps his head down during his work. “Was your mother’s too right?”
His stomach warms at the memory. Itachi nods once, “Yes it was.”
“Funny how life works like that, huh?” the old man doesn’t crack a smile as he hands over the items. “My wife acts just like my mother too. Tell Sakura never to change her favorite food. Or else I’d have no one to buy my prawns.”
It’s a joke, Itachi knows, but falls flat with Kento’s dry humor.
“Your fears are unnecessary. Sakura has enjoyed tempura all of her life. However, I will voice your concern.”
Kento grunts and plucks the stub of rolled tobacco from behind his ears. “Just keep it that way, kid.”
Just as quickly as the conversation starts, it ends. Itachi thanks him for his service and returns home before the afternoon.
He’s not surprised to see the living room lights on. He shifts bags to remove his shoes, then takes the one step into the hall that leads to the sliding doors opening up to their living room. There, Sakura hunches over papers sprawled haphazardly over their low coffee table. It’s hardly an usual sight. Plenty of times Sakura’s research of cures and poisons left the hospital and made it home. But that doesn’t stop him from speaking up.
“Sakura,” Itachi calls, venturing closer in and letting his sports bag slide from his shoulder to the floor where she’s currently kneels. “You’re off today.”
“Yeah, something like that…” Sakura answers, distracted, and bites the inside of her thumb.
Itachi mentally tsked.
....Hardly focused.
Dark eyes scan the plethora of documents, noting some of them are actually about him.
Has she found something new?
“What is this?” he changes tones, using his one free hand to unbutton his cloak.
Sakura grumbles to herself and sits the paper she was reading aside and glances at him, then down to the bags in his hands.
Pink brows raise and she looks up. “What’s that? ”
Itachi holds the bags close enough for her to see but far enough that drippings won’t stain her work.
“Lunch and dinner.”
“Seafood?”
“Eel and shrimp respectively.”
Sakura offers a small smirk and drops her hands to her thighs. “Put it up and let me check you.”
Itachi nods, tossing his cloak on the sofa behind them before turning to the kitchen.
He hears more than sees her stand. Itachi deposits the dango, bags of fruits, vegetables and meats on the counter before going to the fridge to make room.
There are leftovers from the day before. The food he made Sakura is still in there. Itachi straightens and looks around for the white box containing a chocolate tart. After a moment of searching and coming up empty, he goes to the sink.
Has she eaten…?
Sure enough, a plate stained dark brown sits next to what looks like an empty cup of tea.
He tuts and frowns.
Cake is hardly breakfast, but more importantly perhaps is the now apparent lack of a dessert in the house.
Itachi walks to the trash to be sure. He presses the lever on the bottom that lifts the lid with mild hope that perhaps some small scrap remains. The white box rests right on the top. He sighs and lets the lid close as he goes to wash his hands.
Four years of sharing. Four years of compromising. Eating the last pieces of one of Hinata’s chocolate tarts is hardly the worst thing Sakura’s done. By comparison, it’s very tame. Itachi’s endured much worse in life and from his mission partner and ‘wife’. They’ve learned a lot about each other and from each other. One thing he knows is her blatantly obvious lack of cooking skills.
“What are you doing?” Sakura calls from behind him.
Itachi grabs the sponge and picks up the dirty plate. Without justifying his statement with eye contact, he risens the plate under warm water. “You ate the tart.”
When she smacks her teeth her grunts. Sakura knows his blatantly obvious love of sweet things.
“You ate most of it,” She accuses.
Itachi cleans cup and plate, then turns off the water just as Sakura finishes putting the things away.
“Hinata and I shared,” he corrects and looks down as Sakura turns, box of dango in hand.
“Yeah and these dango magically appeared on their own.” Sakura sits the box on the counter near him and takes a step closer. “How’d it go today?”
Itachi stands still as the familiar green glow and warmth of medical chakra presses against his chest.
“Better.”
Sakura’s brows crease in concentration. “Mild fluid build but could be anything from your sickness to standard mucus from being in the cold. Mild vasculitis here...here and here. Did you take the injection?”
“Hnn,”
“Right dosage?”
“As prescribed by my physician, yes.”
Her lip twitches but she offers no other sign of catching his mild teasing. As professional as ever, Sakura nods and runs her hands down his arms and then back, “Any difficult with full range of motion?”
Itachi shakes his head.
She pushes into his bicep then up to his shoulder blades and across to his heart. “How long did you manage?”
Itachi looks up at the ceiling, calculating time and movements. “One hour was enough to feel tired. However, I managed to push in another once Naruto exited the cemetery.”
There’s a beat, the small twitch of her fingers. Sakura only nods. Itachi glances down at her and then away.
They don’t talk about Sasuke unless it’s necessary.
She lays her hands flat against his heart and mutters to count the beats before asking,“Breathing?”
“Mildly rough, but otherwise okay.” Itachi supplies.
“Yeah...I see that…” Her hand travels further down his chest and she presses fingertips just under his heart. “How’d you train?”
“Shirtless,” he calm offers.
Fingers pause their probing long enough for Sakura to glare at him. “Seriously?”
Itachi raises a challenging brow. “This is nothing new, Sakura. What better way to test the medicine than by maintaining my normal habits?”
“Ugh,” Sakura groans and moves away, “By not introducing unnecessary and uncontrolled variables that can mess with my results. We’re trying to find a cure not exacerbate a preexisting condition.”
Itachi takes her annoyance in stride and tries to make his point a different way. “Should I not continue with my everyday activities?”
“That doesn’t give you a pass to be reckless! Who trains in winter shirtless ?”
The fridge door swings open, Itachi holds his retort to watch her grab both vile and syringe from the bottom most drawer.
Sakura sits them on the nearest counter and busy around the kitchen getting alcohol pads and a few napkins.
“There’s more riding on this than you.” she continues, “I have a patient presenting to the ER with the similar symptoms as yours, only add a rash and kidney problems. I need to know if this actually works, Itachi. Hold still.”
Another?
The idea of someone else having his disease never occurred to him.
“When did this patient come in?” Itachi asks and offers her his arm.
Sakura jabs the needle in the vile’s lid, then drags out the experimental medicine she’s concocted. He clenches his fists and let’s her pluck the junction at his elbow until his vein is visible enough for her to ease the needle in.
“Poor guy came in yesterday. I managed to get him in stable condition but only barely. Any later and he would have had renal failure…”
Sakura pauses to remove the needle, then presses the napkin over the spot to stint blood flow. “Unlike you were it’s mostly your lungs, occasionally kidneys and joints, this kid’s got vasculitis everywhere and a mixture of aneurysms and occussions. For the life of me I can’t find what’s causing your blood vessels to go haywire.”
“How old is he?”
“Twelve,” Sakura looks up at him, “about the same age as you when you first started showing signs but I’d say his condition is much worse.”
“And you’re sure it’s the same thing?”
She shakes her head, “I can’t be sure now but I think so. If it is, well, all the more reason for you to train with your shirt on.”
“Hnn,” he turns his gaze to the fridge behind them while she finishes up his treatment.
An unpleasant thought but if there is more than perhaps a cure can be found sooner.
Itachi doesn’t particularly like the idea of a child suffering the same way he has. However, the fact remains that they are more likely to find a greater connection now that there is something to compare it too.
Sakura wraps a bandage over his elbow when she’s done. He steps away and turns his attention to the produce waiting to be turned into lunch.
Sakura sets about preparing tea and offhandedly adds, “Our meeting with Kakashi is tomorrow.”
Right.
Meetings with the Hokage usually happen at the end of each month but this is different. The start of year five means preparations for transition. Neither know what the next step is but by tomorrow they will.
Itachi ignores the slight twinge in Sakura’s voice that she tries to hide. It’s no secret that this mission has had it’s challenges. The ease with which they move around each other now has not always been. They are not friends, barely partners. They work together and have to as is outlined in the description of their mission.
Relief is something neither of them would deny.
As Itachi chops onions, he adds to the conversation,“Are you going to report your findings with this new drug?”
“Pfft, I think Kakashi is tired of reports from me but I’ll definitely tell him what I’m working on. I’m more curious to see what he has to say about...this.”
This being their current mission.
“Are you looking for a specific solution, Sakura?”
“I just want to know .” she stresses, “I mean, we’ve done all of this to get you back here. I’d say we did everything we were supposed to. So...now what, you know?”
Itachi nods but wisely keeps his thoughts to himself as he too is also curious as to what the Hokage has next for them. But he lets the conversation die by offering no audible reply. She grumbles behind him but he doesn’t press for her to speak louder. It’s not that Itachi does not care. He does very much want to know what his next moves will be. However, and as much as she will try to hide it, Sakura has some unspoken expectation. Yeras have taught him not presses topics which make her emotions more volatile.
I hope the Hokage has thought this through.
“What can I do to help?” she calls from behind him, interrupting his reverie.
He sits the knife down and takes a step backwards. “Chop these and the carrots. I’ll prepare the eel.”
And so they switch places, her chopping and him preparing the main course. They work together to make lunch quickly. Grilled eel with veggies, rice and tea.
Itachi takes his lunch at the kitchen table.
Sakura takes hers in the living room among her piles of medical research.
When the food is done, he turns his attention to his garden. She buries her face in tomes.
Time goes with them in separate spaces. A forced partnership made the most of.
As day turns to night, Itachi settles in the bed they share with a sense of shifting.
Whatever will happen, everything will change.