are you alone?

Four years ago, she was Uchiha Sakura - wife to the most powerful ruler of Nippon-koku. Under the secrets and lies, the wheels start to turn again, when she receives a call from a man that she thought to be dead. (陰謀 )

[dirigma]

Are you alone?

Four years ago, she was Uchiha Sakura—wife to the most powerful ruler of Nippon-koku. Under the secrets and lies, the wheels start to turn again, when she receives a call from a man that she thought to be dead.

— The Conspiracy by lilmikomiko

[j-x-a]

For her, his reply meant that everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

That this—their gazes, his touch, her near tears, that pulsing life—was enough.

Belated Happy Birthday @lilmikomiko​ ! I’ve been dying to make a fanart for Conspuu and if I can I will draw all my favorite scenes!!! Here’s a quick sketch for now :))))

[lilmikomiko]

spoilers ahoy!

Keep reading

[tomatolapdance]

volume five : setting traps [1/?]

He was awake again.

This existence became a tiring cycle, with his never ending in-between of silence and sense. And what was worse than that uncertainty was that he was often left alone with his droning thoughts: of not waking up, of losing his consciousness again, of being imprisoned to this unmoving body.

Though, nothing prickled his mind to move. No memory reminded him why he was lying here, paralyzed.

He knew, if he willed enough, some miniscule strength still remained in his flesh, enough energy that his atrophied muscles could slightly contract. Yet an invisible force shackled him - still chained him - to immobility. His eyelids seemed to be the hardest thing to lift from any part of his body.

The only comfort he had was the sudden acuity of his other senses.

Everything. Anything. They all seemed clear in flashes of unnamed colors. It filled the dark corners beneath his lids, followed by sounds and scents he was slowly becoming accustomed to. They were his silent guides to distinguish the mornings and the nights: the grayish drips of an IV chamber, the red ticking seconds from a digital alarm clock, the constant hum of machines simmering in white.

An old door creaks, crimson rust rippled in the shadows, and then the air lodged on his throat.

It announced the arrival of a constant, unwelcoming presence in his room.

There was the clinking of delicate china, the wafting aroma of Darjeeling. The almost taste of cloying sweet-cream, the fragrance of laundered shirts and the creases of expensive leather.

His visitor’s familiar ritual: tea time in the middle of a dreary midday.

“Good afternoon,” his unknown visitor spoke, purple velvet fluttering beneath his eyelids, words coated in sweet venom. A brush of warm air, a soft caress of sharp nails against his temple. The presence of pain and warmth was quite foreign at the moment.

Another routine started when the man withdrew: cooking shows for mornings, string classics for afternoons. But that was better than the read-aloud romance novel sessions for evenings, riddled with snappy commentaries after every maudlin moment, as if the man could feel his distress and savored his mental torture.

Knowing that the presence of tea conditioned him to prepare himself for the usual monologues or numbing, soothing music, his ears suddenly rang when there was a loud click, and the room was filled with noise.

His distraction for the day was different, and he didn’t know if he should be relieved or wary of the change in routine. He...He didn’t like change. He knows that, he should know that about himself.

Paper crackled; a broadsheet news page being turned to the next, he assumed. There were monotonous voices, clear-cut and direct; an early evening news.

“--it seems that the legal defense of Uchiha Itachi, against the State, has asked for relocation of his facilities, as well as an immediate medical attention. Today’s tribunal has presented us his current respiratory deterioration, which was confirmed by various medical teams trusted by the court. Because of this, even if the case does bring to light that Uchiha Itachi is a true contract assassin for the infamous homicide of the late Overlord Uchiha, he might not even live long enough to reveal his contractors, much less to serve his full sentence if he does not receive treatment--”

“I’ve always admired him.” It was an affectionate chuckle from his constant companion. “Your brother has been a very talented liar in this sham of a case. He hides his secrets well.”

“--Is the government merely hiding the fact that she may have been involved with the unfortunate incident? Or is she a victim, and is still being kept captive? It is the most speculated mystery of this case, as the investigation revealed that Lady Uchiha disappeared a week before Lord Uchiha’s death. There have been no confirmations of her location, as well as her current well-being even until this point. There are speculations based from unofficial reports that she was attacked first before Lord Uchiha, and was recuperating from her life threatening injuries. Public interest rose when the Witness Protection Team provided information that Lady Uchiha is being kept in custody. According to most reports, it is believed that Lady Uchiha could be hiding near the Saitama Prefecture --”

“Ah! Too far.”

It was followed by a clink of a teacup against the delicate plate.

“Oh, haven’t I already told you?”

The urge to open his eyes overwhelmed even his need to breathe.

“I’ve found her.”

Her.

It echoed in his mind. A sudden wave -- a nauseating rush, if it can be called that -- raged through his veins, immediately lit his nerves ablaze in burning pain.

He is entirely sure that this man before his prone figure saw the jump of a pulse from his already straining neck, because he felt the intense amused gaze directed on him. A muffled, choking growl could be heard, and he barely recognized that it was rumbling deep within his chest. He could finally feel his arms, swept in intense pain, as he tried to raise them up and tear the tubes that were starting to suffocate him, but his hands were restrained.

“Don’t you think that’s the best news, after these boring four months,” the curling sneer throb a bright violet beneath the shadows, “Sasuke?”

***

“Sakura,”

The noise of a thousand memories fills the silent lapse between the poundings of her chest.

For her, hearing him say her name has always made her feel different No one ever called her like that. Sakura. (never Lady Uchiha, never Haruno)

it is more than a name: there are the dipping of vowels that hint his exasperation there is the barest of sighs at the end of its syllable to hide his amusement there are the modulated inflections indicating that he wants to say something important.

 He calls her.

 Sakura,

 this stranger said.

 ***

- the conspiracy -

setting traps

***

Sasuke.

 It is almost foreign on her tongue, rolling it hesitantly like a question.

 And when she exhales his name, the caress of a nozzle burns cold on her exposed nape.

 ***

INTERSECTION OF UTSUNOMIYA AND MITO

 “Nobody moves!”

A shriek became a stifled whimper, cutting through her haze.

“Raise your hands, where I can see them!”

It was punctuated with a punishing shake on her shoulder.

“Now!”

Behind her, the loud, continuous sobs were becoming fainter to her ears, as she hears his soft breathing on the receiver, matching the pace of her calm exhales. Slowly, she raised her arms, the mobile gripped tightly in her right hand.

“All of you, if you want your skulls intact, gather around the sides and listen to me!”

Her green stare was fixed to the distant gleaming headlights from the rider’s helmet visor.

“And, you,” her nearest, lesser threat said, “Don’t you move a fucking bone or else--”

Sakura’s mind ran like this:

-  from the circumference of the pressing nozzle, it was a double-barrel snub revolver. one of the most accessible type of firearm for civilians: lightweight, compact, useless for long-range & long-fights, but could still blow off a brain stem at zero-point)

-  judging from the timbre of his voice, and the shadows from the lift, the man was five feet & six inches tall, with a slight build; right-handed, with a lingering limp on the same side based on the way he carried his unsteady gait.

- the sweaty odor wafted to her nose; she recognized another scent, a swig of cheap brandy for the testy nerves.

Conclusion: Not a professional. This was an initiation.

Whatever pushed this greenhorn to be this desperate to accept any negotiations with her contractor, well...he’s stupid.

(this, this was the reason why she immediately left Aunt Chiiyo as soon as she recovered from her two years of stasis. besides, she had already braced herself from the very beginning of her stay for a quick fight-and-flight strategy. after all, vanishing acts would strike a sense of trepidation and instill constant vigilance over her employers, lest she would take any action against them.

so why did it take so long for them to discover her whereabouts?

the Intel was impeccable in gathering information. it wouldn’t take them this long to make their move against her. she’s a threat.

four years. four years.

four years was a very long time for someone to wait in the sidelines.)

They underestimated her. That’s the only reason why they sent this new recruit.

Or maybe not, she was harshly reminded of the harsh roar of an engine, that there was still danger waiting outside of her stage one dilemma. Second stage, after all, was probably a veteran agent that was tailing her ever since she had set foot in the Capital Gates.

“I told them,” muttered by the man who grabbed her by the scruff of her collar, aligning her near the double slide doors, “I don’t need a back-up.”

The red laser dot on her chest blinked --

Barely keeping her astonishment, she followed it with a careful eye, as it flickered out after its last blink. Nobody seemed to notice its appearance, or its disappearance, as the hijacker was too busy looking behind at the passengers.

Her fingers trembled as dread and anticipation churned uncomfortably in her gut.  There were about five passengers inside, not including her, or the driver who was nervously fidgeting and cowering at his seat (she can barely see the nameplate, there. jiroubo?). An elderly couple were shrinking in a defensive cower at the corner of the left third row of the seats, and a young woman, silently watching the whole thing with a bitten lip, was carrying a shrieking infant.

Where’s the other young man on the far right corner?

She would not harm the lives of the other passengers. Incapacitating her assaulter right now would be a lot difficult if he’s got another accomplice in this bus. It’s hard enough that it’s almost impossible to disarm this gun man at this distance, or she could use this stupid one to be her human shield once she knows where the missing guy was.

“And yeah, by the way--”

Instincts flared to life when the red dot appeared on the posterior area of his left shoulder, where the gunman would not be able to see the flickers.

The phone was taken in one pull, the sneer of his mouth bristling her dormant ire even more.

“I’ll take that.”

He scrutinized the flip device, before putting it on his ear.

“Hey, who the hell are you?”

Go.

The windshield crackled, as silver web lines spread rapidly on its thick surface. A terrified scream from the old woman followed when the driver’s bloody head crashed on the steering wheel, arms hanging before slumping forward and falling sideways from his seat.

She felt the nozzle lift a few centimeters away from the skin of her nape. Taking no chances, her whole body swerved, bending of her waist and a single-hand backflip. Sweeping her whole leg and an upward thrust of her heel to his chin, the armed fool was knocked out cold after a panicked shot.

The bullet grazed her right calf, and then ricocheted to the glass window. Another crack, and the whole bus front was completely bare of barriers. She was already standing up on her feet when her whole body was hauled up, both of her arms caged with a pair of steel band limbs. Bending her elbow, she made a sharp jab and made a satisfying impact to someone’s solar plexus. Encouraged by the sudden cry of pain, she maneuvered her whole weight to the right, slammed one of his arms to the metal pole, and hit his head with a fist when he could no longer hold her.

There was no time to think when her fear bubbled up, as the sniping rider disappeared from her line of sight. Another crack above their heads and the bus headlights were shut down. She saw the young mother ran to her left, huddling in front of the seats, covering her child.

With no time to think, she jumped to their side as well, before a series of random fires busted all the internal roof lights, drizzled the floor with tiny glass fragments, immersing everything in darkness, only disrupted with the fluttering streetlight.

Head low and body in a careful crouch, she whispered to the mother who was still cowering at the corner. “I’ll distract the shooter. You run to the door if I say run. Got it?”

Sakura didn’t wait for any reply as she crouched and prepared herself for a low-sprint towards the adjacent seats.

She was about to roll, when someone pulled her hair, accompanied by an excruciating backward twist of her arm, nearly dislocating it from her socket.

“RUN!”

Without looking if they indeed left, her right foot connected with a hard shin and then she saw the earlier missing young man’s bleeding face. She managed to give a good knee to his nose while on the floor, and then managed to see the glowing LCD three feet away.

Opting to take it before going to the end of the bus for the elderly at the back, she reached.

But she retracted her hand in the last second at the scent of burnt gunpowder, and the monitor splitting to half, before the phone shattered against the metal frame.

 A thin red line seeped down her arm.

 “I wouldn’t dare run, if I were you.” The sneer was unmistakably young and female. “Just stay still, traitor.”

 The distraction was enough for someone to pull both of her forearms backwards. Her elbows were suddenly locked-straight, shoulders bent to a painful angle. Trembling, cracking voices shushed a child’s shrieks.

 Shit.

 The mother – mother?

 Sakura’s mind raged. No.

 No decent mother would point a gun to her own child.

 The small child was swaddled by trembling, aged arms, shushed by a shaking old woman. It provoked something in her mind when she saw the naked fear in the elderly couple’s eyes. Realization came too late, the moment when a boot dug hard on her spine. This was a hostage situation. Her enemy didn’t underestimate her. They gave her a weakness. (There was a time that Sakura would hurt a child to gain her means. Now the mere thought of hurting something so defenseless scares her to death.) “Now, be a good little girl.” Another painful yank of her shoulder reminded her that she was currently under the mercy of crude assassins. “Now, if you would let him –” She inclined her head, indicating her companion who was currently holding her arms back.  “- break an arm. Then, you’ll have to stay dead. You’ll make a wonderful gift to -” Her sentence was interrupted with a gurgling noise, with a bullet lodged in her throat. “Kin! What the fuck? Isn’t the back-up supposed to -” the boy who had her pinned behind screamed, breaking the no names protocol. And it seemed that the sniper knew that, when her arms were freed as a direct shot to the jaw shut him up, splattering her back with the remains of his cranium. Sakura didn’t give herself any time to recover, catching herself with her palms to the floor, as her assaulter slumped to the side, with half of his maw crushed. Rolling to the Grandmother’s side, she quickly grabbed Kin’s discarded revolver, unsure if the sniper was really on her side, or if it was another ruse. It was all silent. She could still hear the engines running. Sakura couldn’t hear any footsteps, but she was sure that the sniper was already prowling. Twenty seconds already passed since she slid behind the front seats, there was only little light left to see anything. Her tendons strained from exertion, being forced to move her dormant muscles. She tried to ease her heavy breathing, one eye to the corridor, the other on the window behind the old couple. “Are you alright?” She opened her mouth to tell the old man to be quiet, he’ll hear us, but it all happened too quickly. A shot, and another loud shot, then a horrified scream cut the pensive atmosphere, followed by heat splattering across her cold cheeks like mud. The gnarled fingers trembled, body collapsing, and his kind face disfigured in the shadows dropped to the crook of her shoulder.

 His wife, with the infant swaddled in her arms, scrambled towards the body, still shrieking and tears on her face. Darling, darling! cried the grieving old woman, followed by heavy crunches of glass, breaking against gravel and leather soles. The last one was surveying, trying to draw her out. But the sight of tear-streaks on a blood-stained face, accompanied by sobs revived her cold fury. It cleared any traces of fear, no memories of grief flooding her, only the cold flow of anger rushing through her head. “Stay here.” Scrambling to stand up with both palms to the ground, propelling herself towards the gun, she slid her hand to the gap between the chairs, aiming to hit that anchored leg on the ramp. It almost worked, skimming the knee which prompted the man to hide behind the sliding doors, giving him cover. She could hear him running, trying to gain distance to give a more bird’s eye view. He probably knew that she was more dangerous at close-range combat, as she would surely try to engage him with only two bullets left in the magazine. No, you wouldn’t escape me. Her mind hissed.   Quickly standing up, she ran towards the dashboard, leaped with hands outstretched, rolled on her right shoulder, tucked her head, and unfurled with her revolver out. Sakura gasped in pain, but her hands were still steady, having a clear aim on the sniper who was already revving his ride.

Sakura would give this bastard a slow, agonizing death. Without any hesitation, she aimed at the neck, and pulled the trigger.

[tomatolapdance]

4.5 - phases of bereavement - [interlude]

i.

The blasted storm was starting up again.

Grateful to some deity that the heater was not broken this time, she shuffled her cotton slippers on the linoleum, the cold still seeping to her feet in needle-like pricks. Her sad excuse for a brother was still snoring up a ruckus, even if his face was buried in a tattered pillowcase from the couch. Honestly, listening to that monstrosity is worse than the squeal of steam from the protesting, soot-covered kettle.

"Ebizo," Cracking up a cough, she gave a quick shove, precisely hitting his arthritic, swollen knee, "Open the TV. I want to watch the news."

"But it's five in the morning," The lazy old codger croaked, squirming at the sudden assault of kitten-patterned mittens.

Chiiyo, still suffering from her weak ears, stopped listening in the middle of her brother's incessant whining. As Ebizo was the frequent receiver of her wrath, he grumbled while flailing his hands to ward off more of her assaults. The plaid-patterned rocking chair creaked as he moved, searching for the remote somewhere in between folds of the magazine rack.

When she finally shut the stove off with a click, she picked up the last of her neat, peppermint tea bags on the pantry and settled them in the ceramic cylinders. Knobby fingers grasped the strainer with ease, faltering a bit when the cups were a bit hot to hold. But still, her deliberate movements were precise and efficient, no effort wasted.

Armed with a tray of three cups filled with steaming tea, she eased herself on cushions, mood more pleasant as the warm scent enveloped her. Slapping a reaching, sneaky hand, her dark eyes glared at the clumsy old fool, who gave up, sighed and stood in defeat in order to fix the antenna. As the continuous sporadic spitting of the screen prompted her younger brother—by two years, though, he's still old—to slam a hand on the side of the nearly broken down monitor, the speakers finally blared the first notes of Nachtstücke.

When the screen showed a decent, clear picture, it was focused on an unusual scene in national programs: There were multicolored flags lowered in half-staff. A multitude of soldiers were marching in rhythm with the slow beat of the muffled drums. Four sharply-dressed representatives, each from the branches of the Imperial military, stood beside the four corners of coffin draped with the ornate red-white fan emblem. There were clips of cannons being fired in the afternoon and twenty-one bullets from polished rifles were shot in the air by unyielding privates, giving an eternal salute.

These dramatic footage were already overplayed as the opinionated hosts and scathing critics, seated on a long horizontal glass table, gave their commentaries.

—as the remains of the youngest ruler of the Nippon-koku is now being brought to its final resting place, we have been informed that Lady Uchiha is now under a protective custody. Suffering from a recent illness, a life-threatening attack, and also considering that she witnessed the murder of her husband instigated by her brother-in-law, we cannot hold it against her if she was given the option to hide, more so that the Palace is trying to guard her—

"Chiiyo!"

—but why is the "queen" hiding? In this time of great mourning, she should be out here asking for justice! Sources have searched through the possible hospitals she could possibly be confined and her medical records were kept secret. They were not allowed to divulge any intimate details of her condition as it was under the jurisdiction of hospital protocols and the right of patient confidentiality. And though she was in the scene—

Ebizo cried out, when their young charge made a noisy commotion as she fell on the wooden stairs, tumbling on the steps, and was making small, painful gasps as she covered her face.

Her brother at least had the half of his deteriorating brain functioning to turn the program off.

Chiiyo brushed the long pink locks away and prodded her limbs, checking for any injuries. To her great relief, there were no building bruises or broken bones, there were no persistent tears or wailing screams; but her green eyes stared at the dark screen in wide-eyed disbelief. Her pale, pale lips were mouthing a name repeatedly while helplessly shaking her head as if in denial.

"Sit down, don't overdo it," The elderly lady admonished as the distraught woman tried to stand valiantly, even if she only wore a patchy maroon duster and a thick quilt over her shoulders that hid her feverish shivers. "Don't stand too quickly. The blood rushes—"

"I-I…" Her protest was weak, but the desperation was clear as she clung at the edge of the rails, with her arms bent in an awkward angle. "…ne-need to go. Please."

"Sakura." Chiiyo tried to capture her wandering attention, holding the sides of her cheeks and making her focus. "Sakura. Listen to me."

Leaning a bit, her own mouth a fraction of an inch away from the younger one's face and she said the kindest words she had ever said in twenty years. It was too quiet, too soft to be even heard by her brother as the wind continued to rattle the shutters.

"You'll stay here."

She still did not cry. She still had that broken, yet determined, facade. "I have to go."

"There's nothing you can do." Being old, she was frail, withered and more broken than her. But she was wiser, more empathic and hardened. Sakura would learn in time that it was better to heal if the blade was nowhere near the wounds.

Her green, clear, sea eyes—that made Chiiyo wonder how on earth this child inherited them—was still blinking rapidly, admiringly dry.

Ebizo, who was feeling out of place, raised an almost cold cup near their huddled forms.

"Uhm," He hovered over them, his bushy silver eyebrows twitching, "tea?"

"No." The answer was abrupt, forceful.

The old man wilted in disappointment.

"Thank you, though," Sakura added, taking in a deep, cleansing breath. "I just want to sleep."

(and never wake up? Chiiyo knew the young one would like to add that. She knew it very well.)

As the woman stood up, stormed up the stairs with wobbling legs and the door on the far left shut with a soft tinkle of chimes, the old lady could not help but deck the mumbling Ebizo (I was trying to help!) in frustration as she tried to find another thing to do than to watch TV.

ii.

It had already been a week since she had seen Sakura emerge from the room, either barricaded by pillows or curiously glancing at the down-turned pictures on the decade-old desk. Chiiyo would not mind these, or the long bout of silent conversations, for she never preferred to interfere in anyone's business.

But then, it was already the sixth day since she gladly housed her, that was before she heard the shattering of glass and an ear-piercing shriek that jumpstarted her sluggish heart.

Chiiyo dropped the knitting needles on the rocking chair that Ebizo favored often without any hesitation. As her aging joints protested, she was again reminded that her body was not capable of carrying her weight as smoothly like in her younger days. Yet, though this was a disadvantage, she quickly hobbled towards the bathroom in the impromptu guest room with a frightened vigor, something that adrenaline could only provide.

What greeted her seemed barely salvageable.

Long, long curls of roseate swirled on the sink. Clumps of pink lay scattered on the white tiles, dotted with bright splotches of crimson. They were sprinkled in tiny silver slivers, the remains of the wonderful vanity mirror in the bathroom. The image was almost beautiful, if it were not for the cowering woman in the tub, drenched by the shower. By the stray, large drops that sprayed lightly on her skin, she could tell that the water was lethally cold.

And here Chiiyo was, standing beside the open doorway, looking at the child with her hair too short—cut in a boyish length—for such lovely features. It exposed her small ears, her too wide forehead, a pair of lips that were still pallid, and the tense veins on her pale neck.

Sakura almost hit her head on the brass knob, when the anxious woman heard her cautious approach, her viridian horrified gaze meeting the old calm stare.

She was in the middle of scrubbing the ghostly cicatrices, traces of scars long gone, on her arms and the stains of dark blood from the accidental cutting of her hand.

"I don't...I don't—" Sakura scrubbed the streaming thick crimson away from her arm, unaware that she was only aggravating her cuts. "Take it off. Please." She was in near hysterics, her voice rising, almost a scream.

There was only her mouth opening in closing, dry sobs squeezing out of her as she looked at her blood-filled hands.

"You should have told me." Clucking her tongue in reproach, she approached the shears that sunk in the middle of the tub still stained with long strands of pink. "What if you got yourself injured? That was too close to your face."

She looked away, far from the shards of her reflection that were scattered on the floor. There were rose-stained suds on her cordiform face, with fresh cuts stark against the paper-white skin. Her white nightgown clung to her body, dangerously thin.

"You impulsive child." Cleaning up the mess, her gnarly hands managed to settle on the large, green shears. However, Chiiyo was disturbed when she saw the razors out of the medicine box, scattered and water-stained. But they were unused, thrown carelessly in a heap at the distant corner of the rim of the tub; as if the woman had contemplated at the sharpness of those blades long enough if she should use them.

Foolish the young girl may be, she was not weak.

She would survive this.

"Take everything off. I'll help you wash yourself."

The young woman obliged, mechanically sliding the cloth away from her body as she refused to stand.

Then Chiiyo's eyes caught a small glint on Sakura's hand.

"And your ring."

Sakura trembled even more, her hands shaking so terribly in fear that the expensive little trinket might fall off in the tub and get lost in the drainage, but she managed to get a good grasp and held to it tightly, a near droplet of tear slid off from the shivering cheeks.

Chiiyo did not raise any questions: Why Sakura kept on shielding her belly from her hands. Why Sakura feared the sight of blood.

The last thing widows needed were questions.

(Why is my husband dead? Why? The image of the pink-haired woman merged with that of another young widow, with rust colored hair and black eyes, as she lay broken on the tiles, succumbing to the onslaught of grief.)

iii.

Every Friday evenings, Chiiyo always made it a point to check each and every pocket before dumping them on the rickety washer, when that stupid Ebizo forgot to pull out his check from his pension which resulted in a week without heated water.

When she visited Sakura, the sleeping lady was grasping the ring from the chain of silver that Chiiyo gave her. The rough pads of her fingers intertwined through the curves and planes of the stone with closed lids, bent limbs and hunched back. She was tossing and turning after a few seconds, her mouth murmuring the words, It was me it was me god it was me you should have killed me bastard whywhywhy, in between drowning gulps of breath.

It was not as worse as the first night, where she had screamed for about two minutes, with strangled, choking sobs but the nightmares were still taking a toll on her.

Grasping both of her shoulders, the resigned old nurse shook her awake.

Pink lashes fluttered slowly, as if dismissing phantom tears from her eyes.

"Sorry." The soft intonation was rough, her movements sluggish. "I woke the whole neighborhood again?"

Her apologies were almost out of her mouth when Chiiyo procured the mobile device on the pale hands. Sakura almost jerked off the bed, holding the cold object and turning it side-to-side, checking for damages.

"Where did you get this?"

Flip. Flap. She flicked the cell appendage, the monitor only blinking the time. Flip. Flap.

The rhythm continued, her actions becoming a little bit rapid.

"In the laundry." Chiiyo sensed some hostility in her gaze. "Is it broken?"

"No." There was a cold smile, on that froze up sinews of her chest, impaling the frost deep into her ribs. "Thank you very much."

The next day, she found out that Sakura exhumed all the books from the sealed boxes, hidden underneath her bed.

It was filled with still pictures of people being cut-open, and stitched up, those books that were certainly kept away, never to be seen again. They were from a forgotten Akasuna S.-old abandoned books of Anatomy Proper and Handbook in Surgery, and that alarmed the old grandmother as the young woman rattled off potency of gas anesthetics and uses of second-generation, broad-spectrum cephalosporin antibiotics while staring absentmindedly on the ceiling.

"Sakura," the Akasuna woman started seriously. Her voice might be raspy, hoarse, and aged, but those things were definitely off-limits. Chiiyo had to make it clear. "What are you doing?"

"Reviewing."

"Why?"

"To get my mind off things."

"But those books," Chiiyo glared at the stubborn lass, "I kept them for a reason."

Sakura flipped the mobile open and faintly discerned the digital numbers. "And it's lunch. Are there any riceballs? I want to finish studying these procedures before I go down." She then added a disarming smile. "Uncle Ebizo told me he went fishing. You're supposed to go with him, right?"

"You hate blood," Chiiyo said bluntly, remembering the incident where even the sight of blood would make her tremble.

"I'm scared of blood," Sakura responded, as if she was only talking to herself. She lay sprawled on the bed sheets, feet propped in the air and head buried on the tomes with a determined look as she flicked another page. "But one day, I won't be."

"Why?"

"I'm going to be a doctor."

"Because you want to defeat death," Chiiyo responded coolly, "I heard that before, chi—"

"Yes," was the girl's response, "Death can try to claim me, but not my loved ones. Not again."

(Grandma, Grandma, I won't die like mama and papa. I won't leave you like them, I promise.)

"Stupid girl." Chiiyo had to turn away, relieved that she had to stop comparing Sakura to him. "Eat first before you read another chapter. Nothing will go to your head with your stomach empty."

Then there was a small laugh. It was an obvious effort, but at least Sakura tried.

iv.

"Grandmother."

"Boy," Her throat was parched, voice raspy by the darn cold. "Stop standing at the doorstep. The cold's getting in. And your granduncle's out of town so yes, you're safe from the snores."

Her greatest regret and secret pride, her grandson, probably gave a small nod before entering the threshold.

Some forgotten three (or two and a half? she mused) decades ago, before the Uchiha Empire had ensnared the lands, her only son and his wife died in a bloody territorial skirmish between two neighboring countries, leaving their sole child in her care. She might be going senile, but her memory remained as clear as day when she remembered Sasori with his beguiling large brown eyes and rust-colored mopped hair. The eight year old had held her hand as they traversed the country, to a safe haven in the quaint little village. It always rained in this seemingly fog-enshrouded place, but her small little boy grew up here as he learned his craft, until he entirely forgot to pursue medicine to share his masterpieces to the world.

"You have a guest." The deep baritone was smooth, with a hint of amusement and bewilderment.

Chiiyo stepped back to the living room carrying the sweets that he usually preferred. "Is there any problem with that?"

Outwardly, her grandson seemed unaffected at the sight of the woman sprawled on their antique sofa, but there was something amiss. His shoulders tensed, obviously taut beneath the black leather coat and the fact that he stared far too long at the sheared coral hair made her wary. Carefully, he sat on the side-arm, an arms-length away from the younger one's red-socked feet.

Hazel eyes—so much like his mother, Chiiyo thought tenderly—flickered to the old periodicals scattered on the messy brown carpet, where the proceedings of the deceased Overlord was documented religiously last year. The case, however, had already collapsed after two years of deliberations. However, just this last week, they had issued a subpoena to one of the crucial witnesses to the scene, who did not appear on court.

Uchiha Itachi was still guilty, because of the sufficient evidences (the last canned phone call when the supposed witness called the name of the murderer, a res gestate, before three shots were heard), the testimonials of others and the motive was very obvious for all in the court.

(he was supposed to be the ruler, revealed by the cross-examination of the persecutor.)

But the murderer still escaped the capital punishment and was now imprisoned to some unknown facility.

Sakura, during these days, slept deeply. There were no disturbances in her slumber, but it was still troubling the old woman.

"Obstinate child. When you were gone," Chiiyo made a tsking noise as she set the cups on the coffee table. "Sakura sleeps in your room, with one of your textbooks under her head."

An almost smirk twitched on his lips. "Homeless?"

"Someone asked a favor." Giving an aggravated sigh, she wanted to appear as if taking the girl was a burden. "The girl is polite. Said her apologies and took the couch when I told her that you're staying for a week."

"Is she sick?"

"Yes." He probably took note of the ludicrous amount of blankets on her form. "Already stick and bones. You should've finished your med school, so you can at least say that she's recuperating."

"I'm surprised that you're housing patients." The boy—even if he was already thirty two, he would always be her young boy—turned to her grandmother with a petulant glare, protesting. "I'm not going to sleep in my room if that's—"

There was a loud ring, slicing their attempt of hushing voices.

When Sasori flipped his phone open, one of those fancy black and red phones that he kept, he answered with a multitude of one-word responses: A yes. A no. A place. A confirmation. She was old enough to know that though her grandson had failed med school to pursue the art conservatory, he was exceptionally talented in what he had chosen to do.

"Tell Kakuzu to pick me up on a helicopter. Thirty four degrees latitude. North point. One three eight in longtitude, Fifteen meters west. I shall notify you for any changes. "

"Yeah, Master Sasori. But he'll rant about gas prices—" And even though Chiiyo was not one to eavesdrop, she still could not help but sneer at sheer volume of the voice emanating from Sasori's mobile.

"Don't make me wait a minute late." Ah, another one of those Akasuna traits that was a contributing factor to their success in any of their chosen endeavors.

"You're not going to stay?" She stated, keeping her face neutral. But her cracked lips were probably frowning.

"Change of plans. Something came up."

If his posture was perfect then his bow was absolute, formal and fluid.

This little pang of pain probably had something to do with old age, but as he left the house without even a single goodbye, something in her cold chest shriveled and died.

v.

"I went to the City Hall yesterday."

For the past eight months, Sakura was recuperating well. Her night terrors and spacing out had decreased drastically when she started on tackling the medical texts that she found in her grandson's room.

"You didn't tell me you already took the medical boards." Releasing a mild chuckle, she also added, "And that you already graduated from med school with full marks in some country I don't know."

She was taken a back with this, her eyes widening which reminded Chiiyo of rippling lakes in the oasis. "Excuse me?"

"It said you only need to complete a few hours in your internship." She made a little snorting noise. "Judging from your scores, I think you'll be fine to start a residency though."

"What?"

Chiiyo then placed the crinkly, brown envelope near the empty plate.

"I had those picked out for me in the City Hall. Those bespectacled lads in the records section owed me a lot so I told them to gather as many documents as they could about you in the statistical office and your social security files."

Green eyes darted back and forth to the thick bundle of papers, that she gripped hard but not enough to crease them. She scanned through the personal biodata and the black and white profile picture with unmasked astonishment. Her hands hovered over the golden seals on her certificates, the authentication of her board grades and GPAs arranged in a neat graphed box.

"I needed those papers since I was planning to surprise you. Just found out I could get you in that small hospital downtown. Apparently, even old hags like me still have connections. You'll have to attend the orientation on Monday, that municipal med center near that bakery, to be officially listed on their staff."

There was a certain befuddlement on Chiiyo's part at Sakura's confusion. The documents were real, even the serial numbers, when she double checked them at the registration. Leaving the extra two eggs on the plate for their guest's benefit, Chiiyo changed the topic with ease as she felt the surmounting distress on the newly assigned resident. "So, you're twenty-six? Lucky lass, you look younger."

"You did this." Sakura carefully said, sliding them back in the package with an impassive expression. But the attempt to hide her anxiety was evident when she refused to even glance back at the papers. "You shouldn't have."

"I told you, I need them for your recommendation." Taking the cold cup of tea instead, Chiiyo gave a scowl behind the ceramic rim. "Don't be such an ungrateful brat. Now I don't want any bums in my house, do you understand, Haru-?"

"Sakura," She cut in. "Please, Aunt Chiiyo."

And with that statement alone, Chiiyo intentionally ignored her sudden aversion.

Later on, Chiiyo would learn that Sakura never responded whenever being called Haruno.

It took about a week in the presence of others, at work, before the woman realized that she needed to adapt on her name.

vi.

When it was almost the start of spring, a Sunday morning, Sakura arrived from the market carrying a bunch of fertilizers and seeds, and Chiiyo was pleased with it. A vigorous hobby to distract the child from those books and work may work miracles on those dismal spirits. And maybe, if she was lucky, it could disrupt those nasty mood swings of hers when the girl needed to clear her mind.

Sakura seemed to be doing better that what she had expected, whistling a happy tune, giving a small chuckle or two, while pruning the stalks and taking off the weeds, little by little.

Her vegetable garden (of tomatoes, tomatoes! And tomatoes are fruits, she laughed with an ironic smile) was always healthy and well-cared for, but they never bore any flora and fruit. Chiiyo explained that the constant frigid weather was to blame, but Sakura thought otherwise.

"I didn't have much skill in gardening, anyway," Her response was airy, trying to conceal the weight in her throat—the pain—because that it truly, dearly mattered

(to her).

"I wasn't really the housewife type." She was staring at the ground, her gloved hands still on the soil, like she was looking for something.

It was not raining, but there were dew-like drops on the young leaves.

vii.

"Ma'm Chiiyo?"

"It's already three in the afternoon, and I'm in the middle of making curry—"

"Miss Haruno is going to stay here for the night," The message continued, an apparent nervousness ran through her veins as the young man stated his report, "We assigned her to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for her last shift. But her duty hours are only for about thirty hours. She hasn't slept for 48 hours when one of her premature patients had RDS, the usual diagnosis. When the seven-month old suffered a respiratory arrest, she kept on resuscitating the baby—It's just…" There was a sympathetic tone, like a suppressed sniff. "Anyway, after calming Dr. Haruno, we told her to rest at the resident's quarters for awhile, and have her next three days filed for a sick leave—"

"No. She'll feel even worse if you say that to her. Just tell her I made some chocolate." There was no need to rub salt on the wound, as the old maxim would say. "Ebizo will pick her up."

"Chocolate?"

"It's better than your vending machine."

"Yes." The man over the line sighed. "We'll tell her."

viii.

"I don't get why you're here, girls."

There were a gaggle of nurses, and a few of the younger clerks and residents who sat in the living room, crowding the small space as they tried to be inconspicuous while wearing party dresses and assorted classy heels.

"Ma'm Chiiyo, can you just convince Dr. Haruno, please?"

"What?"

"There's this party that will be held at the hospital, Professor." One of the brunettes, who must probably be one of her nursing students from the past five or four years, clasped her hands in a sort of plead. "And Dr. Haruno kept on refusing. So maybe if you—"

"I'm not her mother," Chiiyo groused, flashing the 'I'm a grumpy grandma, so don't cross me' card. "If she doesn't want to go, I won't force her."

"We just thought that…" One of the residents, the one with the nice glasses who wore that impractical skirt way past her knees in this freaking cold climate, mumbled. "…she might enjoy the celebration. You know how she always keeps to herself."

"There's a surprise for her at the end of the convention, isn't it?"

All were quiet, automatically closing their mouths shut as their eyes met each other.

It was all the confirmation Chiiyo needed.

"All right," Chiiyo agreed, "But there are no dresses for her here, she might only wear a pair of sensible pants."

"It's okay!" They nodded their heads, trying to keep the bubble of excitement from their expectant faces. "We got it all covered, the office will deal with that."

Grumbling about over-reacting women and losing her touch, Chiiyo walked slowly to the stairs with a frown on her face.

Imagine the reluctant relief that assuaged her frail heart when Sakura was already wearing her best red and black pantsuit under the white professional coat. Her pink hair was still short, barely past the ends of her lobes, appearing like a childish pixie even if she was already twenty-seven. Leaning on the far end of the wall with her arms crossed, the doctor had heard the whole commotion downstairs, and knew that resisting the crowd would definitely ensure a lengthy debate if she refused their invitation.

Good thing Sakura hated to be dragged on her cold ass.

"You should go out." Chiiyo managed to sound stern.

"Fine." Sakura sighed, her smile was sincere. "But I'll still wear my ring."

ix.

During the forty-fourth month of her stay in her household, Sakura moved out of the Akasuna residence. Although her small apartment was five blocks away, the young girl would occasionally drop by and acccompany Ebizo in his monthly scrabble get-togethers, Chiiyo still felt the mutual loneliness that only the grieving could understand.

Maybe Sakura would never heal, but the effort to try, at least, and live was enough.

[tomatolapdance]

iv. [3/3]

now _

four years later twenty third of december

(06:32:34:43)

As hereby declared that we commemorate his life, his crowning achievements—

"Coffee?"

A paper cup was settled on her table, in the middle of some dull pile of papers long overdue. With a half-hearted attempt to be gracious, she raised her eyes and saw a lopsided smile from one of those pestering co-interns.

"Thanks. But I need to—" While she spoke, her hand dived into the stack of charts and grabbed another metallic folder, "—finish the medicals here. I'm updating the recent lab results and—"

An amused chuckle broke her ranting.

(06:34:23:29)

"But, sir—"

"Miss Chiiyo had been calling you for the past few weeks, asking if you'd be spending Christmas with them."

"I'm going to work during the holidays. All are graveyard shifts," She responded automatically.

"Nah, someone talked it over with Chief. They're already letting you off till the thirtieth."

"What," Swerving a sharp heel, she could not hide her surprise. "Shouldn't I have a say in this?"

(06:36:48:23)

"All of your objections would probably be overruled. You work too much."

"Haruno?"

"Sir?"

(06:37:23:51)

"I don't mean to pry, but we're colleagues right?"

And unknowingly, Sakura internally prepared herself to be asked out again by such men who courageously wanted to break down her barriers. With a ready rejection in mind, she took a small intake of breath.

(06:38:17:32)

"Can I ask who the lucky guy was?"

Her pen hovered over the paper; hand tensed at the question and forgot to exhale.

(06:38:32:15)

"Pardon me?"

(06:38:39:28)

"I always see that," He pointed the ornament that hung over her exposed neck, still bitterly cold against her skin. "And that's a pretty big rock. He's rich, huh?"

(06:39:03:19)

"...hm."

(06:39:06:23)

"Is he good-looking?"

"…yes."

You have no idea.

There was a smile that almost curved on her lips, because of that sudden sly comment from the usually dormant inner self, but it failed to be genuine. Thankfully, the files hid her face while she tried to curb herself from showing her sudden grimace.

(06:39:57:12)

Instead she settled for a lukewarm silence.

(06:41:23:38)

Then he broke the quiescent conversation, "So you were engaged?"

"Married."

(06:41:48:58)

"For about?"

"Three years."

(06:41:35:54)

"And you broke up with him because—"

"He…," She hesitated, and it took something out of her to say it without any tremble in her voice, "He died."

(06:42:02:37)

"How old was he?"

"Young," She clipped her answer short as she stood up abruptly.

(06:42:22:38)

"And, sir, I think I'm still going to work tomorrow." Barely hanging on the thread of decorum, she picked up her hand bag and with a well-practiced beam, she responded curtly, "But because you insist, I really need to go right now."

She left with the beverage untouched.

(07:02:21:32)

A hollow laughter filled the shower cubicle, as she turned the knob to a scorching degree, water jets streamed copious amounts of vapor when her fingers tried to brush off the nonexistent blood.

She tried to forget what day it was today, but she remembered it clearly like an old scabbing wound that would clench your nerves in pain when you scrape the abraded surface.

(07:52:02:00)

Winter began to make its presence known as Haruno Sakura, age of twenty eight springs, ended her daily rounds as the new and talented intern of a small rural hospital.

She had been living alone in the countryside, about two blocks side away from the old establishment, for almost four years. Though she had always kept it for herself, she silently relished the sweet feeling of relief this simple, fragile peace this small town brought to her.

Her clear, yet distant, gleaming jaded irises stared at the gloomy horizon behind the floating pliant wisps, the sun shined weakly like a fading grief.

Even though the bitter wind whiplashed the stray strands of cropped roseate hair against her flushed face, she smiled and looked at the cream colored horizon, shoving her hands in the large pockets of her hand-me down, comfortable coat.

"It's time to visit," She whispered to no one, unconsciously breathing it out in the mist.

Walking on the asphalt steps, she paced alone towards the outskirts of the tiny plaza, knowing she needed to catch the first early trip.

(08:02:25:42)

Chiiyo had always told her, and she had believed it completely, that these four years had been comparable to twenty-eight seasons of dry winter spells.

There were soft flakes that flew by, bit by bit, like frozen dews fluttering in the wispy morning horizon. Her green, green eyes—they were dully, almost like jaded mirrors—reflected their slow descent towards the dirt-strewn road. She sat alone under the empty bus shed, grasping the last of her hardly earned savings.

(08:12:30:10)

This small amount of money in her gloved hands was just enough for her one last journey to the Capital. It was already the last of her savings in her account, since she just transferred from the very kind woman's home. It was adequate for a ten-hour return trip back to this isolated community; a sanctuary where she could hide from the specters of guilt that haunted her for four years.

Maybe, it was foolish, to spend it all today—just for this selfish, pointless visit.

But then, she was starting over, wasn't she?

(08:25:19:52)

Absentmindedly, she clutched the white gold band that hung in a simple chain on her neck. The opulent ring was cold and piercing, despite her warm touch. Numbed, callused, worn fingers entered the pocket of her borrowed coat, feeling the soft edges of her old, black phone.

With a tired sigh, she thought that there was absolutely nothing for her to lose now.

(09:06:46:32)

She took the back seat, since all the other twenty-nine seats were occupied. Sakura sat alone; lips set in a frown and fought the urge to flee, as pairs of eyes stared at the wisps of pink. But she continued to feign ignorance at them.

Her journey was going to be long.

(12:08:44:13)

And as the large vehicle snaked its way towards that memorable curve in broad daylight, Sakura could not help but close her eyes.

(16:09:10:11)

She recognized the streets like a welcomed stranger; they were couples wondered around the frost-covered parks. Stores were opened, entertaining the lonely and with company alike. A mix of glass-bulb neon colors adorned every pane that hung, while cheery, verbose chatter was carried by the wind whenever the bus stopped for a few minutes.

And she would cower inside the lapels of her coat, concealing her eyes.

(19:32:54:25)

The gravel crackled beneath the rolling, rubber tires, breaking the fragile silence.

Deliberately, she rose from her seat and placed the hood over the short bob of her light auburn-rose tresses. As she reached the end of the metallic stairs, she flexed her spine into a minute, courteous bow towards the silent middle-aged driver.

Thank you.

The grateful action earned no response, as the sliding doors opened and she descended to the powdered-speckled ground.

A swarm of people, quick in their bustling march as they went down from the large transit vehicle, made the confusing myriad of footsteps against metal stairs. They cautiously avoided her, as if they felt the emanating draft that her presence brought, while they dwindled into lesser numbers.

Finally, the bus departed, leaving her alone in a night cast in a bitter mist.

She treaded on with an ingrained grace, downcast teal eyes afraid to acknowledge the unlit starless horizon, while following a trail. Squinting, she adjusted her pupils to the scanty amount of light. Painted, steel, street lamps illuminated her path, gnarling the shadows behind her hollow footsteps.

Unable to endure the sight of the bleak, cracking pavement, she raised her head and saw that both the sky and earth blurred.

White fluttering flakes flew swirling freely with the southern breeze. She waited for a single, frozen tear to fall upon her open palm, but they remained clear. A laugh escaped from her lips, knowing that she would never feel its coldness even if they fell upon her insensitive touch.

An inestimable amount of seconds after her meandering pace, Haruno Sakura—for the first and last time— stood before the place where the four years of bereavement could finally rest.

And she drifted, like the descent of crystallized tears from a dimming dusk, towards her demise and to where the remnants of her deteriorating life lingered.

(20:49:51:09) "You're quite lonely up here."

A worn leather-gloved hand brushed scattered ice-powder off the lavish marble stone, tracing the grooves with simple reverence.

"You never change, you know that?"

Weary, wiser verdant eyes wandered over the field covered in a pristine-white quilt, dotted with rows of perfectly aligned epitaphs. The restless gale continued to whistle against her cold ears as she stood on top of a flat knoll. On the zenith of this quaint mound, his tall marker was distinctly recognized as his name—emblazoned in artistic strokes of large platinum characters—was faintly discernible for they reflected the eerie luminescence of the snow.

An almost cracked, wry smile formed on her thin lips as she caught a personal joke in this somber sight.

"You really hated to be in a crowd," Her breath rattled, as the chill started to seep through her threadbare coat. "But you always stood out."

The glinting ring flickered its weak luster as her stiff fingers idly twiddled it on the base of her neck. "It's been a really long day," She started in a whisper, and then maudlin topics threatened to come out of her mouth, as they lingered like an anesthetic on her grieving, wanderlust mind. "And I—"

Her head shook from side to side, threads of thought knotted themselves up, unable to be spoken out her mouth.

So she opted for the safest thing when she was with him.

(talk like nothing happened?)

"I'm a senior intern right now. Well, more of a clerk. I was lucky that Madame Chiiyo was a resigned Chief Nurse from the nearby centre—"

And every little nuance of her (cold) hands, every glimpse of her (dry) eyes, and every tilt of her (calm) voice was trying its best.

"I got a recommendation, and the rural hospital is fine, and I take shifts in the different areas—"

And it was frighteningly easy to pretend.

She already did it for seven years.

"There are small lodgings nearby, just a block away from it. It has poor signal receptions for the radio but I still think it's pretty. I got a nice view of the mountainside—"

She expected the grief, (that guilt) to strike her (witless) again, to make the dull, throbbing ache to bleed raw.

"I'll be a doctor, maybe it'll take a few more years but at least I can finish—"

That small, round, golden-white ornament

(of a commitment wasted, of a vow forgotten, of a crime committed)

was still heavy against her chest.

(There was no strength left to take it off from its chains.)

"Sasuke."

She tried to remember as she found the memory of fathomless raven-sky eyes, repressed mirth swirling in them. She reminisced a night (like this), cold winter evenings with lit fireplaces, his head bent over some unfinished paperwork. A conversation where he half-listened, a flicker of his gaze; and she desperately tried to catch it, like when she tried to capture her unbidden, faded hope that arose and made her believe that they could just stay (like this, like this, so familiarly like this) forev—

And so because it almost felt the same, she tried to lie.

"—I'm going to be fine, I promise."

She furiously let a tremulous sigh escape from her fragile smile, with her never-wavering dark viridian gaze fixed upon that damned engraved name.

"There were no tomatoes. I hope you're not mad?"

Then she laughed (bitterly, it sounds slightly strangled) feeling that there was a glare burning through her back in response.

"You're still as silent as ever."

And his most eloquent answer, after all, was his silence.

Nothing really changed.

(20:52:44:01)

it begins _

(23:56:32:08) The vibrating thrum of the bus was terribly like a soporific lullaby in her ears.

As she gazed at the slowly growing discord of tail lights, she tried to distract herself from falling asleep.

Her now warm fingers held the ring as she settled her eyes on the passengers beside her seat, glancing a bit at her old ticking watch.

Small, pinkish fist were waved as the thirty-something mother talked softly to her child.

She diverted her gaze and found the farthest corner on her right; a slumbering young man was snoring, mouth opened peacefully. Behind her was another young man, with head lolling side to side as he slept and kept his hands in his jacket's pockets.

With a tired sigh, she gazed at the old digital clock in front of her, blinking red numbers that that told it was near midnight.

(23:56:58:13)

Knowing that she'll arrive at daybreak tomorrow in the village, Sakura surrendered to the impulse to just sleep.

So she settled herself comfortably on her vinyl seat, taking sweet time as the heater thawed her cold bones. Leaning her rose-hued head against the windowpane, her eyes gazed dazedly at the white lines blurring on the road. A soft, almost smile escaped her at the thought of surprising her coworkers of her early return, working again despite the break and—

Her fingers gripped the armrest.

Startled, she sat up straight and focused her eyes on the tinted pane.

Did I just—?

(23:57:14:58)

It was indistinct, almost hidden beneath the shadows, but she saw it.

She could feel the painful pounding palpitation, surging through the veins of her neck, as she realized what the black blur was.

It was a sleek, midnight black colored sports bike, obviously custom-made, cruising underneath her window.

But what made her hackles rose was not how professionally the rider's position was on the motorcycle or how impressive was his quick slalom-weaving on the light traffic.

She knew it was tailing the bus.

(23:57:28:19)

It was her.

It had to be her. She was the only one who could attract this kind of trouble, but—how did they know she would come back today, she could not fathom—

(23:57:40:37)

Her alarmed senses faded as they passed by a road, a glaring orange light from a lamp post.

There was no fast moving bike—or even anyone—under its light.

No, of course not.

It was not following them, she sighed silently, just the nerves acting up again.

Within five minutes they would reach an intersection where a stoplight, certain that CCTV cams were certainly installed. A motorcycle would surely not be allowed to go inside the national highway, so he would need to take a different route. So it could not be possibly tailing them. It was all just her paranoia.

"Holy—"

(23:58:58:48)

The bus driver shouted a curse in fury as that dusky-hued Ducati swerved sharply, making the bus skid to a body-jarring stop.

Clinging on the frame as she, along with all of the passengers, jerked forward, Sakura then heard that familiar electronic melody.

(23:59:08:34)

An ill, near-forgotten tone that made her skin crawl and prickle, something she wished she would never, ever hear again, knitting hairs of her arms and those at the back of her neck.

Then, her sharp eyesight recognized the thing strapped behind the rider's back fifty meters away.

It was a sniper rifle.

(23:59:36:32)

The driver was scandalized as he saw the faint dark movements of the stranger dismounting the two wheeler.

"The fuck," His gloved hands pressed the horn angrily. "Get the move on, asshole!"

(23:59:52:55)

"Miss, will you just answer you phone? And stop bleeping your horn, I'm trying to sleep, you mor—"

Quickly, She flipped it open, determinedly punching the four combined numbers right after all these years. (23:59:54:24)

"What do you want?" Sakura demanded while her head turned at every possible direction to scan her surroundings, as the passengers clambered up to their feet. Positioning herself in front of the bus, she caught the faint, glaring laser point twitching as it tried to find its place. Finally, the bright red light of the sniper was now focused on her, "If it's me, you leave all these innocent people—"

(23:59:55:03)

"Sakura."

This was not the damned altered voice that destroyed her. (23:59:55:53)

"Don't move." (23:59:57:07)

Million images of a familiar face flashed in her mind's eye as it tried to give a name—

(23:59:57:49)

—to this recognizable, deep voice that always haunted her guilty nightmares, her languorous dreams and her surreal reality.

(23:59:58:16)

And a warm tear,

(23:59:59:08)

which she tried not to shed upon his grave,

(23:59:59:59)

trickled from her wide-startled green eyes.

the conspiracy —trickling seconds—

(00:00:00:00) Sasuke.

The moment his name was out of her lips, she felt the cold tip of a revolver nestled behind her nape.

[tomatolapdance]

iv. [2/3]

-ま- _

For a split second,

(00:59:47:53) before the stifling air managed to reach her gasping breath,

(00:59:47:59)

Sakura, with her eyes closed, felt the slow scorching pain pierced her, overcoming every thought in mind.

(00:59:48:21) She hoped that it would suffocate her, that the dreadful chill to progress into a paralyzing tingling, for a blinding white to spread beneath her tightly closed eyelids. (00:59:49:46)

There was something terribly reminiscent with this, faint déjà vu.

She already felt this nauseated churning at the edge of her throat, that sinking oppressive feeling that started tingling from her now shaking hands to her faltering arms and to her trembling body.

(00:59:50:03)

Ever since the time she held a life at its crux, there was always an ephemeral second where she questioned why she was taking it.

It was always for the betterment of the terrorized population, her defensive, rational side often said. And her dreams would never be realized at the light of day, it bantered.

Through all the half-convincing rationalizations that remained in her conscience—while her ears listened to a pitiable whining of an unfortunate politician to be spared—she had always pulled the trigger unflinchingly.

(00:59:52:22)

And then, it came to the point when she never cried for the hundreds of faces that she took. Because tears would never change the fact that there was no escape, no way that she could be normal, no path where she could be in peace.

So that was why it was so easy to choose that he needed to die: Sakura could never be with him, and that motive alone was enough.

But why did she felt like she was the one dying? That the repeated mantras of youwillbefreefreefree were becoming insipid, impertinent now that the final act was finished, that at least both of them would be dragged under the ground.

(00:59:56:36)

It was more relieving; to know that she would di—

Then there were sounds of two heavy bodies collapsing that echoed after the gunshots, making her heart miss a beat.

(00:59:58:02) She opened her wet, streaming eyes.

And she saw Uchiha Sasuke as he reeled across the room, hitting the wall with a loud thump. His back slid down that rigged barrier tortuously slow—as he strived to stay on his feet but failed.

(00:59:59:45)

Panoramic silhouette images of wooden canopies were smeared with trails of carmine pigments, brushed by the ends of his dark cowlick hair. She saw the shadows fluttering over his gaunt face as he glided down, her chest contracted so painfully that the air had gone out from the place.

In a startled impulse, she took a quick intake of breath unconsciously, strangled in her throat.

(01:01:33:23)

And Sakura realized in such a horrible epiphany, as she nearly choked on her tears, that she was still alive.

As time finally began moving again, she slowly turned around.

And about an arm's length away from her, she saw and recognized the man that lay crumpled upon her feet.

A red river gorged its way from its cephalic peak, bleeding profusely. A sudden cold electrical jolt ran through her spine as she saw the glint of gun on the dead's hands, the huge finger bent and nearly pressing on the trigger.

The name was jumbled, lost on her tongue, an indiscernible garble distorted by sheer stumped terror.

Juugo.

(01:02:58:39)

He was lying on the floor, with his shocked opened gaze; features painted in confusion as that lifeless stare were still. The fully dilated dark pupils in the sienna irises were almost submerged on the rusty crimson ink largely scattered on the beige marble canvas. The viscous blood flowed freely like water from the bubbling, shattered brilliant vermillion hole on his forehead, smearing his color-drained face with the liquid copper shade.

(01:03:24:47)

This could not be happening.

Her head whipped back to the one who was supposed to end her existence.

(01:04:46:34)

An abrupt, quivering gasp caught her attention.

Already shaken from this unexpected casualty, she nearly jumped at that painful snarl, making her turn around at the sight of the man she was supposed to kill—and who had saved her—now struggling, six feet away from her.

(01:05:34:23)

The gun clattered at her feet, resounding with an ominous clarity and was unable to stifle the sob that came out from her covered mouth.

And, because it was inexorable, she found herself running to him. Disregarding her unfeeling legs, she came closer towards the shuddering body that was nearly laid prostrate on the floor.

(01:06:26:58)

She knelled unceremoniously beside him when she reached the end of the room, her arms quickly supporting her to avoid tumbling forward his heaving body.

With trembling fingers fleetingly touching the edge of his jowl, she brushed off the tendrils on his head, and felt the fading warmth from his papery, clammy skin as he painfully took a sudden intake of breath.

(01:07:38:23)

Beryl eyes submerged in overflowing tears were taking in the damage, shoving off his robe's collar, and taking in the sight of the gullies of blood that stained, blotched, dispersed over the placid skin on his chest.

(01:08:34:45)

"Sasuke," She whispered, as she heard the wheezes of his inhalations. "Can you hear me? Stay conscious."

(01:09:47:38)

As soon as her befuddled mind processed in rapid assessment the way his face winced in pain at every respiration, her hands became numbed. And as she was about to press the cloth to his broken right clavicle, she realized that Sasuke never missed his targets.

He saved her.

Why?

(01:10:01:23)

She could not hear his wispy, low gapes as he tried to speak. She could barely even see anything of him as the salt water brimmed and hindered his well-defined face. She would not believe the slowly cooling of his blood, as the light navy color of his robe became a darker cobalt-shade.

(01:11:23:26)

And here she was, an utterly feckless woman, watching as the last remnants of oxygen burned his pierced lung, the brilliant crimson drops appeared like smooth petals shone against the warm candle light.

(01:12:34:57)

Sakura firmly grasped his chin, trying to see the storm stir again in those bottomless depths but they remained to be a pair of unseeing arsenic orbs, an automatic response of someone suffering a massive shock.

(01:13:38:37)

"…Can you hear me?"

(01:13:47:58)

His response was uttered with such ferocity that she felt the burn of the biting command.

"Out."

(01:14:37:38)

Trying to control the urge to apologize, she whispered, "I can't leave you here, Sasu—"

"Get...," He grunted breathlessly, his grimacing face even more marred in exertion. Eyes still closed and his surprisingly steady hand trying to shove her touches away from his body, "…Out

(01:15:27:12)

She nearly punctured a wound on her wind-burnt lips as she bit it harshly.

I'm sorry, she wanted to say.

"Do-don't speak," Sakura said instead as she tried to ignore the unyielding command.

(01:15:46:09)

The sickly thick copper scent, viscous and pungent, began to permeate the fragrant air. (01:16:04:29)

He was dying.

(01:16:51:08)

In such a horrible manner. (01:17:03:57)

"Why did you—," She tried to ask, but her desire to know the reason was trivial right now.

(01:17:26:43) Sakura needed to save him. Save him. Because, heavens, he saved her.

(01:17:35:28)

He always saved her. (01:17:49:25) And as her frantic thoughts jumbled and ran rampant in her distraught mind, she began to think desperately on what to do, alone, in an empty gigantic house. It never mattered now that she would get caught; all she wanted was to ensure he would survive.

And she knew, every second wasted might trigger a cardiac arrest as he continued to bleed.

(01:18:01:12)

To stop the loss of blood,she tugged the thick coat off, revealing her in a flimsy light azure hospital gown. Hastily rolling the garment with trembling hands, she then took a gulp of air to calm her shaky nerves and readied herself to grab the wall phone to call the medics after adding enough pressure on the injury.

She would not escape this time.

(01:18:53:03)

"This is going to hurt," Proclaiming softly over his ear, she was ready to press the seeping wound and stop the sanguinary flow from his shoulder.

(01:19:23:43)

Instead, she found herself being pulled to the opposite direction with a bruising grip on her shivering wrist, nearly toppling on the floor.

(01:19:39:34)

The deadly monotonous order made her instinctively turn angrily, with a taut fist ready to strike. But instead, her thin carpals were caught quickly as she then recognized the deep voice.

"Itachi." She rasped in surprise.

(01:20:22:33)

Fully raising her water-streaked face for his perusal, she received a furious glare as she noted his neatly tied hair and impassive, unruffled composure. Yet those older yet familiar ash-stained eyes were different, as it lingered to the heaving body leaning upon the stained marble wall.

She noted his rather exquisite, stiff form drenched in melted snow, his wiry fingers wrapped around her forearm in an achingly rigid hold, while his other hand took her bloodstained coat away from grasp. His white leather vest was smeared with the same crusting lines, and the thick woolen cashmere cloth of his black turtleneck shirt was rolled up to his elbows shifted, exposing the constricted veins on his arms as he pulled her to her feet.

(01:21:34:56)

"What are you doing here?" Struggling to break his hold, Sakura tried to free herself because time was running fast, "We have to—"

Uchiha Itachi coolly assimilated her stunned features: her rose locks stuck against her damp forehead and cheeks, her hand still encased in his firm hold, clenching and unclenching in an effort to do something. Bewildered green eyes filled with tears, bedraggled appearance in front of his brother's slowly fading life.

(01:22:45:43)

The grip tightened, bruising and the unspoken threat was clear.

"You need to go."

(01:22:51:23)

"No," It was extremely inordinate for her to act like this, for she was the cause of this current mess. But she just realized now what kind of a fool she was. "Please!"

(01:23:12:43)

"It's enough, Sakura. Call someone for help, if you want."

(01:23:36:56)

Then a yell made both heads turn to the gaping entrance.

"Itachi, I said wait for me, I kept telling you that I'm going—Holy shit!"

(01:24:13:36)

Naruto came inside, clambering cautiously inside the bathroom with his usual alacrity. However the instant his bright orange sneakers nearly slipped on the large red puddle on the ground, his eyes stumbled upon the corpse that lay dead on the tiled floor.

"Naruto," Itachi warned as he waved his hand to the blonde to keep his weapon while slightly blocking Sasuke's current state.

(01:24:49:27)

With obvious effort not to retch his insides out while putting his gun back on his hip holster, Naruto turned to Itachi with a livid stare. "Carrot-top, why is he, Juugo—!"

"We cannot do anything for Juugo," A deeper, detached voice spoke through the ramblings from Naruto, who merely growled, "What do you mean—?!" And as he advanced towards Itachi, he finally saw what he meant.

(01:25:36:25)

His reaction was instantaneous. Like a strike of yellow lightning, Naruto sprinted towards them, ignoring the way that his knees were now damp with glutinous liquid that seeped through the tangerine pant suit.

"The hell, Sasuke," His loud curse bounced off the walls, panicking. "What the hell happened to him? Who did thi—"

(01:26:23:45)

"Don't touch him," Itachi interrupted, effectively startling Naruto to jerk his hand away from the bleeding oval wound.

As Itachi crouched beside Sasuke, Naruto begrudgingly gave his position to Itachi. "You are useless when it comes to emergencies."

And without any hesitation, Itachi pulled the robe completely open and palpated the papery skin.

(01:27:39:49)

"He's still conscious. He can probably hear us, but he's fading," Itachi stated the injuries like relaying a formal report as he palpated the contusions and mauve-blotched skin. "A broken clavicle and two ribs, but it probably missed his spine. I can see his feet twitch."

"Leave," With a dismissive incline of that raven head, he commanded to Naruto, "Go and tell that to Sakura."

(01:28:49:51)

"You found her?" Surprised, the flaxen-haired man became aware of Sakura, who stood over the sink with the receiver on her ear but unable to punch the dials correctly because those slim, stained fingers were trembling so much that the phone was slipping off her grasp every time she glanced at Sasuke's predicament, her face turned paler than a ghost.

"Are you alright?"

(01:29:56:19)

"No," She replied honestly, her throaty answer almost indistinguishable as she tried to punch the dials right.

"I'll take that, Milady," He spoke with solemn gravity as he took the mahogany framed phone away from her grasp.

(01:30:47:38)

Yet the moment he held the handle, it nearly slithered from his hold because of the slick, viscous liquid. His blue eyes steadied for a moment on the fingerprints glinting against the smooth surface, then turned to Sakura who was transfixed to her appearance on the mirror.

"La—Sakura." He said in a modulated, quiet voice, trying to emulate a soothing sort of tone.

(01:31:35:34)

Wordlessly, with a steady but frail bravado, he dialed the numbers. Thank goodness direct intercom lines within the Uchiha Estate were installed, since the blizzard had little effect to its local reception.

While he was waiting for his call to be picked up, Naruto wondered what Sakura must have seen for her to be shaken like that. Obviously, there was someone who fired the gun to injure Sasuke in that condition…

(01:32:23:56)

"Sakura, do you know who—," He caught himself, shook his head and decided to focus his attention to more important matters.

There were only two individuals who could have done it. One was dead and one was shaking so much she could not even stand.

But then he decided that he would rather be ignorant of who fired that disturbing crack heard throughout the empty corridors earlier.

(01:33:45:26)

Thus, he attempted to make light of the situation. "He's going to live. He's too much of a bastard for hell to accept him."

But this only hardened her facial features, as she spoke softly. "Naruto."

(01:34:44:48)

"And wash your hands." Naruto grabbed the wall phone adhered on the white-washed lime walls. "Blood doesn't really suit you."

(01:35:12:37)

"Good evening, Milord. I'm your operator for the night, S—" The well-rehearsed voice spoke crisply.

(01:35:38:45)

"Can we skip that, please? Put me on a direct line, someone's dying here!" Naruto harshly yelled, hardly stopping for any breath. "We need any available medivac-in-duty, in the left wing of the Uchiha State. Yes, damn it, the Suite! Someone already fell, but Sasuke is dying here. If you don't get here right away, I'm going to make sure you get your butt kicked right in—"

(01:36:23:56)

A metallic click, drowned out by Naruto's voice, was forgotten in the commotion.

"—What was that, Sir?"

(01:37:34:23)

Sakura had also heard sounds of clips being detached.

Then the clattering metal turned into an echoing, hair-raising shot.

(01:38:33:45)

No matter how much the burgundy color was lathered on the tiles, or how it was practically splashed across his impassive face and seeped through his mouth, Itachi was completely unaffected as he rapidly fired another shot while kneeling beside his limp younger brother.

"The fuck?!"

Naruto roared as he caught the red-handed murderer releasing the third explosive shot.

"Sir, can you hold the phone for a minute, we are—"A female voice on the phone was trying to be composed, but the tremble was apparent, surely shaken at the loud shot.

(01:39:35:57)

The quick rising of Sasuke's chest shuddered.

"Itachi!"

Sakura shrieked, who broke out of her riveted trance, scampered in haste as she could not believe what had just transpired.

Her scream had alerted Itachi so the murderer immediately stood up, released another bullet to the fallen phone. It flew across the floor, as Itachi hit it perfectly, nearly missing her and slowing her rapid dash towards him.

Sakura was already a few feet away from Itachi, almost reaching, to be able to sock her own clenched fist to his blood smeared face, when Naruto grabbed her and placed her tired, yet resisting body behind his tall form.

"Let me go!" (01:40:36:24)

But Naruto was not listening as he pulled out his own long pistol instinctively. The magnum revolver slung to his waist was now in his left hand as he curled his thumb over the hammer clip, retracting it back to load the bullet from its cylinder.

Unfortunately, Itachi was faster in pulling triggers, as the revolver spun away from Naruto.

His other tanned hand could barely hold onto Sakura as she tried to disentangle herself from his firm grasp with a surprising brute force.

In frustration, the hysterical woman cried out in furious accusation.

(01:42:38:01)

"How could you—?!"

"Murder my own brother?"

Itachi narrowed his eyes in consternation, features as indiscernible like the blood that saturated his dark clothes, as he hovered the glock without its attached suppressor towards their direction.

"I deserve your gratitude, Lady Uchiha."

Sakura froze, her struggling from the confining hold slackening; the implication of those words struck her dumb.

"You retarded son of a bitch!" Naruto did not understand the hidden meaning of Itachi's words, howling out something that astonished her, "He knew that you were assigned by those fucking elders to kill him! He trusted you to spy for him!"

(01:43:58:47)

"What?" A strangling intake of breath managed to escape her lips.

"Then," His voice was tranquil, musing on the revealed fact as he slanted his chin a bit. "You must have known this from the very start, ever since he started his regime."

Not even fazed, he merely raised his unarmed arm and gazed at his silver wristwatch evenly.

"You have no time to escape, the response team will arrive within two minutes," Sakura answered, ready to bolt and attack him at the slightest opening. "But there should be a recorded copy of Naruto's call, so you will still be a fugitive-"

(01:45:08:29)

But those smooth granite-hued eyes met hers, behind the blond's broad shoulders.

"And you are already a witness, Milady," He interjected. "But, Uzumaki—"

Then he focused on Naruto's increasingly enraged features.

"You damned traitor!"

"What do you think will happen to Lady Uchiha after my brother's death?" It was as if he was only raising a question in an interesting discussion, with that homicidal hand coated with coagulating blood. "They would not spare her life for long, despite her efficiency."

(01:46:28:38)

"What are you talking about?" She was perplexed at how cryptic these inquiries were to Naruto.

"It means that within three minutes," Instead, the older Uchiha disregarded Sakura's question. "There will be a series of small explosions to destroy everything in this area. Starting in two seconds, Lady Uchiha-"

(01:47:29:46)

"What—?" Naruto begun to speak but then the ground suddenly shook, trembling beneath their feet.

(01:47:30:01)

It all happened in a heartbeat, a loud sound, like an explosive pound of a drum followed by tinkling sounds of sharp glass split their ears. There was a scalding scent, forming into a potent fog of burnt fabric, melted plastic frames and charring wood.

(01:47:31:27)

"-your patio would be turned into rubbles."

(01:47:32:45)

"You planned all of this?" Sakura only managed to reply, unsteady and fazed, as thoughts of idon'tunderstandwhy? kept ringing in her head.

(01:47:39:38)

"Not all of it," Itachi gave a modest tilt of his lips, a small, almost faint smirk. But then it was gone as he refocused his stare at those livid cobalt glare, "But Uzumaki, Remember to keep your word."

The soldier stiffened.

(01:47:40:23)

"Run." His warning was crystal clear, "Because for every fifteen seconds, this place will slowly be impossible to escape from."

(01:47:45:27)

And even before he was finished speaking, they could hear the orchestra of wailing fire alarms, distressed signals, of shouting voices, commands, and even the noise of heavy wheels being parked on the palace grounds.

(01:47:49:23)

"I won't leave—" Sakura was incredulous to this, but then she was immediately towed by her right elbow and out of the bathroom with a compelling strength.

(01:47:50:34)

And Sakura was suddenly hauled, even man-handled, making her absolutely disoriented with the rush as they walked through the obscured haze, side stepping fragments of stained windows and torn tapestries.

"Naruto-!"

(01:48:08:38)

"You need to get out of here."

(01:48:14:34)

And as they stepped into the bedroom, a thick rain of dust began to seep through the cracks on the high ceiling. Naruto shoved himself to the double doors, and dragged Sakura through a maze of corridors that she knew would lead to a private garage that usually hid a spare car for break out emergencies.

(01:48:23:43)

"But we can't leave him!" She protested as she was shoved inside the backseat.

"I know we can't,"

(01:48:25:34)

And as Naruto slotted the key on the ignition, he bitterly constrained himself to say it.

"But I gave him my word to protect you."

(01:48:28:29)

-り- _

(01:49:12:23)

"This is EMT Division Sector Number 127, Do you copy?"

(01:49:24:23)

"Roger, this is Dr. Shizune from the Emergency Services. Can I ask for vitals?"

(01:49:36:35)

There was a vague, rapid sound of keys being punched with ferocity.

(01:49:56:15)

"We have Uchiha Sas—" The words were gobbled by the spitting noises. "twenty four years of age—"

The radio crackled.

(01:50:12:47)

"Do you still copy? Your line is unclear,"

Yet the monotonous report droned on without interruption except for the spluttering sounds over the receiver.

crack

"—blood pressure" crack "dropped to sixty—" crack "patient is tachycar—" crack "—shots on the right clavicle, abdomen on the left upper quadrant—" crack "—missing exit wound for one of the three 9mm hollow bullets, nearly missed his femoral artery—" crack "—mobile x-ray confirmed fractured ribs, HPT." crack "—to consider splenic trauma and." crack "—we can't escape through—" crack "—many debris obscure the palace roads—" crack "blizzard" crack "starting up again." crack "a chopper can't" crack "nearly caved in."

"Repeat ballistics and casualties, one two seven."

"—stat CTT—" crack "—starting treatment" crack "but we can't alleviate loss—" crack "need 2 packs of whole blood—" crack. "—recognized a bullet from the personal defense personnel—"

"Can you hear us? Your frequency is still unclear, one two seven."

(01:53:37:26)

"Damn!"

"Division one two seven, we can't hear you, please repeat your—"

(01:53:59:17)

"—he's seizing!"

In an instant, there was a dissonance of shouting drowned in loud alarms.

(01:54:36:34)

Before the petite resident could even gasp in trepidation, someone yanked the headpiece away from her.

"Kabuto!" The taller, furious consultant all but roared into the microphone, "Just make Uchiha Sasuke live!"

crack

(01:55:26:47)

"Epinephrine stat—"

crack

(01:56:36:23)

"—no choice, give me the paddles, I don't care if-"

"-not good. Not fucking good."

(01:57:34:36)

"—clear!"

"One more—"

(01:58:34:27)

"But how are we going to make him breathe, Kabu—"

(01:59:23:36)

"And we need to drain that fucking—"

(02:00:23:34)

"—We can't save him!"

(02:00:45:23)

"Shut up, and just—"

(02:01:02:20)

"Raise it to 250!"

(02:01:23:34)

"—not working!"

(02:01:35:32)

"Holy—"

(02:01:39:23)

And just like that, the whole yelling was cut, replaced by the deafening sound of white noise.

(02:01:43:22)

"Close it, Shizune."

After a few hesitant seconds,

(02:01:58:23)

she turned the radio off, as she closed it clockwise.

"But, Lady Tsunade, the reports are not yet finalized."

(02:02:15:34)

"When the ambulance arrives, I want you to ask Dr. Yakushi to answer the information in this sheet," The tranquility inside the reception room was too haunting, vacant. "Send it to the archives immediately. I need to arrange something."

Quietly, Shizune took the thin, tiny sheaf and replied tentatively, "Yes, Lady Tsunade."

(02:02:32:23)

Tsunade's eyes drifted to the formal, indifferent words on the innocuous piece of paper.

She could only feel the stirrings of devastation as her heels clacked towards the morgue to prepare for the autopsy.

(02:02:43:34)

-だ- _

Farther and farther, their vehicle twisted through the haze of smoke, ashes and ice. They were way past the speed limit, but no one seemed to notice as they continued to speed down the empty roads in a desperate break out.

Naruto glanced at the rear view mirror every two seconds, gripped the steering wheel and pressed his sneakers hard on the gas pedal. Sometimes, he would exhale a nervous breath, or would catch those green-glazed eyes staring blankly ahead.

The downpour of big flakes continued to pile on their windshield, but they still continued to drift down the street blindly.

(02:23:56:22)

Naruto did not let their speed to drop lower than 60 kilometers per hour. Sometimes he would dare to exceed a hundred sixty, testing his limits through the frost. He was slightly grateful that Sakura was silent behind him without any protest to his mad but amateur driving skills.

So as he painfully tried to gauge how much gas was left before they end up stopping in the middle of a deserted highway or an edge of a killer curve, Sakura finally spoke.

"Stop."

(02:25:34:49)

But her words fell into deaf ears as Naruto continued to race down the freeway at a breakneck speed, thoughts in a whirlwind of apprehension that in any second, a police siren might burst into his concentrated reverie.

"Sorry. But we're in a hurry right now, alright?"

"Naruto, listen to me," Sakura settled her damp, snow-cold hand on his shoulder, leaking slowly to his warm orange sweater. "Stop the car."

(02:27:57:32)

"No. I have to make sure that nobody—"

"I don't care," Digits dug deeply on his woolen sweater. "I want to go back."

He focused his turbulent cerulean irises on the road, trying to ignore her underlying demand on that soft-spoken request.

(02:29:46:28)

"Naruto," Sakura spoke again, this time voice getting stronger. "You stop now, or you go back."

Naruto gave a fast side-glance, observing how her flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes made her look like wretched woman. Pink tresses were ruggedly loose as their ends nearly reached her lap, pooling on her drenched figure and masking the few scorches of her worn coat.

"We can't go back Sakura."

(02:30:35:42)

"I killed Sasuke."

(02:30:39:27)

"What are you talking about? Itachi just shot Sasuke shitless in front of our frigging eyes! That psychotic—"

"I killed Sasuke," She repeated frantically, grasping Naruto firmly with wide frantic eyes—as if she needed him to believe her. "I killed Sasuke, right there. I should've been…should've been dea—"

Her milky-white hands were free of the crusting, reddish tinge of blood, but there were still traces of it underneath her small nails.

(02:31:15:22)

"I was the one who shot Sasuke, Naruto."

"Stop it, Sakura."

"Listen to me, Naruto.

(02:31:55:43)

"Are you trying to take Itachi's fucking mess?" As they rounded off the sharp, deadly twist of the path at the last second, Naruto knew he was making a fool of himself as he tried to dissuade her from continuing this confession, "I'm not going to buy that joke, Sakura."

"Then tell me, Naruto," Sakura's voice was low as she almost dislodged his arm from its socket, trying to get him to loosen his hold on the steering wheel. "Who would you rather believe that shot him, me or Juugo?"

(02:33:37:51)

"What?"

"Do you think Juugo—a man that Sasuke trusted with his life for years— was the one who shot him?"

"Sakura, please—"

"Who do you think fired so closely that it shattered Sasuke's shoulder?"

"Don't."

"That it was so strong that pieces of his bones punctured his lungs?" In her frenzy, Naruto could feel the feverish warmth of her hand as she razzed angrily, "Made him drown painfully, alive, gasping—"

"Sakura."

"No. It was me. I wanted him dead," She vehemently yelled as she shook him violently. "I wasn't in the room. You found Juugo unconscious and you should've seen a bruise on his nape. Think, you idiot!"

(02:35:00:55)

The brakes screeched the vehicle to a vigorous halt.

As soon as the small automobile stopped in front the rocky edge of a desolate highway, Naruto let out ragged sigh.

(02:35:12:21)

"I'm slow, Sakura, when it comes to thinking," Naruto calmly said, letting his hands drop from the leather-covered wheel. "But I'm not stupid, Sakura, so tell me—"

"I told you, Naruto."

"I heard you," He turned to her quickly, those usually grinning eyes gone. "—tell me why I should believe you?"

"Believe me?"

(02:35:52:43)

"You didn't kill him. You don't even have a motive," He then shook his head, as if he phrased it wrong. "Heck, Sakura, what are you saying? You can't kill him. You don't even know how to shoo—"

In anger, she suddenly shoved her hand on his collar, and took the weapon in his concealed shoulder holster: an old model of his G26 pistol.

(02:36:01:23)

She quickly took off the magazine clip, pulled the slider back as she pushed both safety locks down to release from the receiver. Taking off the recoil spring and the barrel chamber, she spoke harshly while looking at him furiously.

"You don't know me."

(02:36:31:00)

"When did you lear- How did you do that—?" He spluttered.

(02:36:42:02)

Naruto was horrifyingly mesmerized at her quite skilled hands that dismantled and now reassembling his almost indistinguishable gun in the darkness. The actions were quick, precise and methodical; it was almost as if she had been doing it so many times that she looking at her hands was unnecessary. Instead, she glared at him,

"And don't assume that you do."

(02:36:59:12)

Gliding the slider track back till it clicked and the locked in place, she pushed the cartridge back to the hilt, loading it with a cocking motion and pointed it to his head.

"Because you don't know what I'm capable of, Lieutenant Uzumaki."

(02:37:01:23)

Naruto could barely see her in the dark.

Yet, in his surprise, he saw that Sakura was not crying now. He could faintly discern the maddening glint in her eyes, the scowl that marred her distraught visage, and her pale hand that stopped shaking. She almost looked deceptively calm in her seat, perfectly poised and her excellent form straight, except that her heavy breathing betrayed her riled countenance.

(02:37:16:34)

"You asked me once, remember, Naruto," She said instead, softly as she discarded the gun to the carpet floor. Her voice became hushed, laced with an unpredictable hypnotic quality to it, "Why I wanted to marry Sasuke?"

"Yes," Naruto nodded. "Yes, I did."

"It's because I had to do it," Lids drifted shut, fingers clasping together as if in prayer as she tried to prevent them to tremble again. "I needed to."

(02:37:31:23)

"You mean—?"

"Itachi wasn't the only one who was trying to kill him," Her head bowed, and he could not confirm if she crying again. But he could hear the watery strains in her voice, as if she was suppressing the urge to release it.

(02:37:52:27)

"I don't know who he is, or how in the world it happened, but heknew that I was going to marry Sa—" She then lifted her head, in that nostalgic queenly tilt, trying to keep that last remnants of her composure. "I was supposed to know him, to get close to him and if he managed to trust me enough, my signal—"

"Did you hesitate?"

(02:38:25:13)

"Naruto," Exasperated, she snapped in irritation for the interruption. "I'm telling you the root of all this mess. You want to know the truth, right?"

(02:38:27:42)

But her companion was serious.

"No," And then that familiar temper quickly flared, as Naruto turned his whole body to face her. "It's not important that you were trying to fool everyone, or that you're implanted to be Sasuke's wife or whatever kind of plot there is. It's nothing new to him, trust me."

"But, Naruto—!"

(02:38:36:21)

"He has been betrayed too many times, Sakura. And I might be angry at you, and want to tell you that I don't care about your frigging reasons why you agreed to it. Or scream at you for being more idiotic than me when you practically lied to everyone. But it doesn't matter now," He groused, eyes flashing and Sakura found them almost glistening, but she could not be too sure in the dark.

"What I want to know is," Naruto persisted, his hand now gripping her arm. "Did you hesitate?"

(02:38:48:34)

"No," She responded mechanically. "I didn't—"

(02:38:50:29)

"Stop lying!" He barked out, his right fist banging against the dashboard. Sakura flinched, which prompted Naruto to carefully speak, trying to lower his voice in a rough whisper, "You can't answer my question while you keep looking away."

(02:38:57:25)

"But I did shoot him, you can't ignore that—"

(02:39:02:41)

"You were trying to save him," He added brashly in a single breath. "Don't deny that."

"I did not—"

(02:39:11:23)

Three words were breathed, nearly inaudible by the howls of the blizzard.

"Did you hesitate?"

(02:39:20:57)

"He was using me!"

She replied instead, recoiling in a tumult of rage and confusion.

"He was using me to be a breeding pig for his Clan. They were using me! How can I believe that everything was real? That we can be—! He was going to discard me, when my child—"

(02:39:48:28)

And the gaping, festering lesion in her chest was ripped raw, rubbed till it throbbed painfully. Her throat begun to hurt, she whimpered, letting out an agitated inquiry of her own.

"Why? I should've let him rot there, for all I care! I already had him, and I was going to do it. But I can't! Why was I alive?"

(02:39:53:21)

Naruto was unmercifully silent, tensed and waited for her furious tirade to finish.

(02:40:02:57)

"He should have killed me in the first place," She then buried her face in her palms, curbing the urge to scream out. "Stupid, stupid jerk!"

Naruto, whose pent up fury faded, gave a weak smile, "Bastard."

(02:40:18:38)

Her strained voice was muffled as she agreed without any preamble, "An insufferable bastard."

(02:40:26:23)

"You should've known better," And Naruto was grinning. It shone like a beacon: victorious, intense, and glorious.

It was how all of his smiles should be.

(02:40:35:34)

Breathing a tranquil sigh, Sakura conceded, "I should've known better not to act like this."

"No."

And as she was suddenly enveloped in a tight, smothering hug, there was a swift, relieved guffaw that made Sakura regret ever listening to Naruto.

(02:40:41:21)

"You should've known that you are really in love him."

(02:48:27:53)

"Where is Lady Uchiha?"

This was the first question Suigetsu demanded as he walked past the automatic sliding glass doors leading to the Director's Office of the hospital.

He slammed both palms on the wide berth of the mahogany desk, huffed, and menacingly glared at the cool, unruffled woman.

(02:49:12:45)

Tsunade merely placed her elbows an inch away from the edge of the table, her fingers tangled in front of her concave-curved mouth, and met those angry pale eyes.

"How could Lady Uchiha slip through all these heavy security? There're about fifteen sergeants at each corner of the four floors, excluding the units stationed on the grounds! What kind of miracle happened for such a pink-haired, well-recognized patient to be missing right now?"

(02:50:24:57)

"As I expected," Tsunade frowned. "You did forget and did come barging in here to blame that situation to me."

Quickly, she took out a piece of parchment from her drawer and impatiently pointed a long, crimson-manicured nail on three signatures.

"Remember this authorization note?"

(02:51:23:44)

"…That Lady Uchiha may be temporarily discharged for tonight under the three of us and the dead last's supervision. But no one noticed Lady Uchiha leave the hospital with anyone."

As Suigetsu pointed out that last important point, the glass doors shifted again and admitted a bewildered Karin and the imposing presence of Hyuuga Neji.

(02:52:34:43)

"I did as you told me, Lady Tsunade," With cold, dry lips, Karin continued to speak carefully. "It seems that you're right."

"You were right? Hey, you left me out of this?"

(02:53:19:53)

"Lady Uchiha left her hospital room at approximately thirty eight minutes after midnight, followed by Juugo and Lieutenant Uzumaki at twelve forty four," Hyuuga Neji walked in front of Suigetsu, blocking his sight of the fidgeting red-haired woman. "As recorded by the surveillance cameras, it seems that Lady Uchiha left with them unharmed."

"That's pretty stupid of Juugo, which is very unlikely," Suigetsu managed to growl out. "We, all three of us, were told specifically by Lord Uchiha to escort his wife."

(02:54:58:26)

"But it they seemed to prefer arriving early at the palace," Tsunade shook her head in disdain, then turned her attention to Neji. "And you, Hyuuga. You're not here just to listen to us chat about Sakura's whereabouts, right?"

Palest lavender eyes were hard and obstinate.

(02:55:48:34)

"Has Lord Uchiha's body arrived?"

Silence.

(02:56:12:43)

"Yes."

"Was it already confirmed?"

Bronze eyes and a disappointed façade were hidden in a layer of elongated golden strands.

(02:57:31:47)

Then with a snap, Hyuuga Neji turned to the two dumbfounded personnel and stated, "Both of you have been dismissed from your services."

"What do you mean dismissed from services?" Suigetsu angrily said, desperately struggling to calm his already shaking fist. "Are you firing us? On whose damned command is it? Even you can't do that, smart ass because were directly hired by the Overlord himself."

"The highest orders would come from the Council. The directive came from Lord Danzo."

"—And on what basis?"

(02:58:46:50)

"One member of the Snake had aided in a successful assassination of Uchiha Sasuke."

"What? A successful assassination? One of us—? That's impossible, fucking impossi—"

"It's already been confirmed," Karin shook, as she relayed the information to Suigetsu. "That a custom-made military issued glock series loaded with the exploding hollow bullets was found in his remains."

"Apparently," Neji pressed on. "He had been an accomplice of Uchiha Itachi, as he failed to commit the murder itself."

(02:59:02:47)

"Where is that giant lumber head?!" Suigetsu managed to grit out. "I'll prove to you that he's got nothing to do with this! You know how loyal he is to Lord Sasuke—!"

"All other evidences were already burned in the fire, and it was very clear that Juugo was killed," Neji confirmed with a grimace, "while aiming the gun at Lord Uchiha. Forensics already did the paraffin wax application on his corpse. There were residues of metal—"

(03:00:05:32)

"We don't need to hear all the details, Neji," Tsunade finally found herself back into the conversation. "What we want to know where Lady Uchiha is—?"

"Then, you have to excuse me for awhile."

As soon as he left Lady Tsunade's office, he took out a quaint, baby blue phone with key chains of whirls and fox miniatures and leaned against a wall beside the fire exit.

(03:02:14:35)

At first, all the stoic secretary heard was the rhythmic beat of a song, but then it was finally answered by a really high-pitched male voice spoken in rattled, almost indistinguishable mutterings.

"Hinata! I'm really sorry! Really sorry, I know, should've called you once I've left the hospital, but I've got a situation and I'm going to come home after a while. There's something I need to do! …Hey, you're too quiet! You should be—! You're not my wife! Give it back to her, you—"

(03:04:27:59)

"Uzumaki."

"…Neji? Why are you using Hinata's phone?"

"…"

(03:06:34:21)

"Hey! Are you suspecting that I'm having an affair? I have sworn to my clan-in-law, upon my honor, my state, my people—"

"…"

"—my life, my face, my ramen discount coupons, everything! That I am only bound to my one and only Hinata!"

(03:07:02:43)

"I am half-tempted to wish you were not."

"That hurt, Mr. Heartless. It stabbed me real deep."

"Stabbing you will be a pleasure, Uzumaki."

(03:08:19:36)

"The same old lines of lovable death threats."

"I want to know where you are right now, and the specific location of Lady Uchiha."

"Is this why you're calling from my wife's phone?"

(03:09:22:47)

"It is the only bug-free device outside palace grounds. As of the last hour, all wires are tapped."

"And Hinata? Where is she?—"

"…She is trying to placate Lord Hiashi, since he's conversing with one of the elders right now."

(03:10:41:37)

A pause.

(03:11:01:46)

"Is Lady Uchiha—"

"—safe," He then gazed at the torn young lady who slept on the fraying leather covers of the back seat, covered beneath the large coat. "She's with me."

(03:11:46:23)

"Make sure that she'd be safely away from this mess for the time being. We never know, Though, we have already apprehended Uchiha Itachi,their loyal hound might still be capable of escaping prison. taking away Lady Uchiha away from the Council is a priority."

"...That's a long one, Neji."

"..."

Then Naruto suddenly added, wanting Neji to understand why took matters into his hands, "You know what the Council will do to her. Witness or not, she would be thrown aside."

(03:13:29:46)

"But are those freaking geezers going to take over the whole empire?" The younger man's growled. "If I had my way, I would've had them enjoying their pensions."

"It will only be under their control until dawn, Uzumaki."

Naruto could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oi, oi, what are you saying there, girly gay bo-"

(03:14:58:23)

"Lord Uchiha left something that greatly matters everyone, especially about the relinquished position. He had already written it on a pertinent document that shall be passed after twenty four hours after his demise."

(03:15:47:48)

"You should return," Neji requested after a brief calm.

(03:15:57:23)

"Yeah, later," Naruto merely answered. "But first, I need to execute a fail-safe plan—"

"And that is—?"

There was a faint moan behind him, probably a yawn issued from his stubborn female companion.

"Dammit, gotta go Neji. I'll be back later, keep them busy, will you?"

(03:17:32:03)

"Naruto, where are we—"

They were both standing beside the white Civic, shivering in the tremendous frost, while every light of the car were lit.

"You'll be going soon, Sakura!"

(03:20:38:46)

He then walked in the middle of the deserted, rickety road, carefully stepping outside lane where any minute, a raging swift car might pass by without noticing Naruto's presence.

"And what are you doing?" She raised an eyebrow as the nutcase jumped up and down while flailing his upper limbs up on the air.

"Just watch me, Sakura!" He cackled.

Soon enough, he spotted the distant headlights of a car down the street; He widely stretched his arms and eagerly waved at them while vigorously skipping up and down to catch the driver's attention.

"OVER HERE!"

(03:22:34:47)

The old, almost dilapidated truck's brakes whined, its poor engine rumbling until it completely halted.

Naruto waited about two seconds for the noisy ruckus to calm into complete silence.

A wrinkly, angry man with a loose gray ski cap on his probably bald head appeared out the frame of its rickety car window.

"What the hell are you doing?" Even though the man's voice almost croaked in an effort to scream, it was apparent that he was very furious, "You could have killed the both of us!"

But Naruto was annoyingly persistent and ignored the death glare he received from the plump, short-haired woman in front of the car seat.

"Hitchhike?" He waved his big thumb with that wide, confident grin that always made him look like a hopeful, optimistic idiot.

Sakura merely looked away, trying to hide the embarrassed flush that crept to her face. .

"Please?"

(03:26:36:29)

"Forget it, son," The old man groused, as he gave a grimace at the pair of younger adults. "The two of you can't really fit in the back seat."

"Take her, then," And with that, Naruto prompted to grab Sakura's arm towards them. "I'll be fine. I'll just wait for another car to take me, but can you just take her first?"

"To where," Grave, elderly, small female eyes were wise, scanning the figure wrapped in an overlarge coat. Her gaze lingered on the rumpled, drenched rose tresses, "Where will we bring her?"

(03:28:26:51)

Sakura remained quiet.

(03:28:45:23)

"Away from here," Gazing imperatively at the elderly couple, Naruto answered firmly while his hand gripping her shoulder tightened.

"Just let her get away from here," He repeated.

"Really sorry, son but—"

(03:29:48:57)

"Ebizo, open the door," The wrinkly old granny nudged her brother with her rickety elbow, and scooted to make some room. "We have some extra space here," Patting at her vacant left side, she then reminded, "Keep your head down, or at least wear my ski cap. Your hair distracts me. Are you alright with this—your name, girl?"

(03:29:59:55)

"Um, gran, uhm, Her name is—"

"Sakura…" She spoke quietly, with a smile on her face, "Sakura."

(03:30:13:31)

"Thank you, thank you," Naruto gratefully uttered as he helped Sakura climb the foot board.

The door was shut and as Sakura twisted her long locks and put on the dark blue ski cap over her head, Naruto clambered over and placed a hand over the ledge of the window sill.

(03:32:46:28)

"If you think you're already somewhere safe, just call—" Fumbling his shivering hands towards his breast pocket, Naruto pried away a scrap of paper and futilely tried to search for a pen. "Where the hell is my call card?"

(03:33:28:42)

"I-Idiot," Sakura managed an amused, tiny smile. "I already know it. But I don't know if I can—"

(03:34:48:28)

"I understand," Then he shook his head in disappointment. "Maybe it's best if you don't. You…"

(03:35:01:23)

"Just…just take care of yourself."

(03:35:12:47)

"But Naruto, how about you? You're alone here—"

"I'm already giving you away to strangers. I don't even know where you're going."

(03:36:58:22)

"But I am almost there at convincing myself that it would be probably better this way." He shoved his hands to his pockets, shrugged gave an almost youthful grin, "If something happens and those big nosey people ask me where you are, at least I wouldn't blurt it out accidentally."

"But Naruto—!"

"I'm sure you'll be safe," Then he snapped to look at the two impatient elders, who were probably tapping their foot with the way their brows were knitted together. "You're not serial murderers, right?"

"We would start with you if you don't get off, son."

(03:38:48:37)

"Err," With an apologetic grin, he jumped down and landed on the road. "Really sorry."

"Take care, Naruto."

"Take care of her, please?" Naruto replied instead, earning a grumble from the kind old lady who was going to take her in.

The small, elfin truck begun to move slowly, and once she could not see the bright golden hair, her elderly female companion began to coax her to sleep.

(03:40:23:49)

She merely closed her eyes, unknowingly succumbing herself to slumber. She instinctively clutched the familiar phone inside her coat, but clung to the biting cold circle around her ring finger.

(04:42:36:36)

Sakura seemed to be unconscious during half of the journey, but she would be jolted awake whenever they stopped. Mottled hands would caress her brow while she was on the verge of slumber, and the slow muttering of a conversation would be enough to ease her with the hated silence.

(05:52:39:22)

"…You old bat, why did you allow her to go with us, for all we know she could be—"

(05:52:57:39)

"Shut up, can't you see that she's tired? She's too sickly, the color of her skin says that she's either anemic or lost a lot of blood recently."

(05:53:31:34)

"Chiiyo, do you see those stains, she could've killed somebody."

(05:53:52:23)

"Her hands are clean," Chiiyo said, clucking her tongue in annoyance. "Maybe she was at a wrong place in the wrong time."

(05:54:12:15)

"But she looks suspicious."

(05:54:25:32)

"You look more like a mugger than her as a criminal, stupid old man. And Sakura, stop pretending to sleep—"

(05:54:51:21)

"—because we're finally here."

(05:49:51:09)

[tomatolapdance]

iv. [1/3]

(tick)

Rubber soles lightly skidded on linoleum floors, each footstep was followed by a small squeak. The figure stopped for a while, but then motioned to open the door slightly and looked inside. From the gap, a peering blue eye was fixated over the vigilant shadow sitting closely to their sleeping charge.

Come out.

You're no fun to sneak at. The intruder merely gave a grin, and pushed the door wide enough to go inside. He knew that surprising the dangerous raven-haired ruler would be quite a feat, especially since the said leader seemed to be annoyingly anal these days. No one was spared, even the most trustworthy friend in the whole world, of those irrational manly, overprotective mood swings that intensified for the past five nights.

(tock)

In an attempt to cheer up the somber mood, the younger blond brought up something he knew that might tickle a grin even out of the stoic Juugo standing as a sentry outside the door.

I heard that Ino refurbished your room. It was a total, major makeover, quote-unquote, as she's been saying to everyone.

The infamous dark eyebrows twitched, which convinced him that his companion did lose his impassive composure at the mention of the 'operation' they had planned.

(tick)

She harassed the florist to make rush deliveries for your bath pool.

And because he had known this certain Uchiha for decades, he expected the trying-hard-to-be-cool idiot to be—and there was the jaw clench!—grinding his molars by now.

That genius took some of our floating pink candles, restocked some pretty good wine in your bar and prepared some glasses in your bathroom suite. She also made sure there's new lacy lingerie hanging around. We're planning to carry out the plan by …abducting, I mean, transferring her! Don't get the wrong idea, okay?! Yeah, we'll drive her in the palace later this evening so when she wakes up tomorrow, surprise! Rose petals and you in your—

(tock)

One corner of the always scowling lips creased down further.

—glorious naked body. Real gross, but I bet she'll like it. And all the hardworking people who've been spying on your glorious love story…er, I mean the employees on the Overlord's Wing took the day off to give you two some privacy. We're giving you the chance to say your grand speech of apology.

And just because he knew he was one lucky man, who could still get out alive after all this pestering—more like, being nosy about the privacy of Sasuke's sucky ass—he continued to push the Uchiha's buttons to make him uncomfortable as much as he can.

It's the perfect night to tell her your declaration of undying love. You know you wanna say it.

The scowl deepened to that recognizable deadly grimace as the quarters appeared to be giving out a very intimidating aura, an innate ability wielded by every Uchiha when they wanted others to just shut up.

(tick)

Okay, okay. Fine. Just tell her whatever mushy words you have in mind to make her feel better. And eew, don't make that face! It looks like you're going to thank my ingenious plan to help you out, you ingrate. Be quiet.

It's your freaking wedding anniversary this midnight, asshole! Could you stop being angsty and for once just—

Hn.

—wait for her to wake up? Let her know you're here all this time.

I've got work.

And I'm getting bored of that excuse ever since you ran off after bringing her here. She needs you.

(tock)

The pale hand minutely shifted, lingering at the moist skin of her brow. The action was almost invisible in the blinding dark, but the simple touch that grazed her temple was not missed.

She then softly murmured a desperate, fragile word in her slumber.

You heard that. Don't make this too hard for the both of you. She's asking for you—

Fingers slipped away from her face, its pads tracing the threads of silken rose hair.

I'm leaving.

The dark outline stood slowly, towering over her sleeping form for a moment before striding off towards the opposite side of the room.

(midnight)

You really are a bastard, you know that?

Naruto.

What?

Keep her sa—

(00:00:00:01)

Have you been listening for the past six nights? Yes. I'll keep watch. You already made me say that for the hundredth time. Besides, I've been looking after her for you for almost a week. But Sasuke—?

(00:00:35:18)

Heavy footsteps clearly resonated against the linoleum floor.

(00:00:55:10)

-は- _

(00:42:18:01)

"—up! Wake up!"

(00:42:20:45) "The hell are you doing lying there on the floor?! Just wa—"

(00:42:22:56) A coarse hand, slightly damp, tapped insistently against his face

"—kura, where the hell is she?"

(00:42:34:13) The sharp slapping of his cheek continued until it stung acutely.

Whoever he was, the retribution for that assault would be more painful.

"—can't have the surprise at the palace go to waste!"

(00:42:55:22) Finally, he recognized the loud voice.

"Get your butt off the flo—"

(00:43:13:45) He felt two hands, awkward and fumbling, gripping his shoulders as an attempt to shake him awake.

And it was done roughly, because his head bumped against the hard floor repeatedly.

In retaliation, he blindly thrust the heel of his palm upward.

"Crap! That's my nose!"

(00:43:24:01)

His own pair of mandarin orbs instantly blinked underneath the gentle glare of fluorescent lights, shooting a slight pain to his refocusing eyesight. His palm hovered over half-open lids for a while, as he tried to recall how he got himself sprawled on the floor beside an open closet.

"Finally," He saw in the haze of disorientation that Naruto, a respected soldier except for that eardrum-piercing voice, gave a relieved sigh and wiped a nervous sweat over that whiskered cheek using his sleeve. "You were really out of it, sleeping beauty."

(00:43:30:02)

Instinctively, he placed a hand behind his neck. His nape was throbbing viciously, which was probably be bruised and would heal after a few days. How did he—?

Settling his gaze to the blubbering younger man, he saw the panic and fear that threatened to burst out.

"We're already late! It's already midnight!"

(00:43:32:36)

And in a quick succession of thoughts, he noticed three things:

"We need to bring her to the palace!"

(00:43:35:28)

A thick, humongous male polyester coat that hung on the rack beside the door was missing.

"By the way, why were you sleeping on the floor?"

(00:43:37:32)

An empty bed.

"Why is the whole place such a mess?"

(00:43:39:16)

"I checked the bathroom but obviously the door wasn't locked, so—"

Lastly, the absence of an important weapon from his left hip holster: One of his Glock 19 accessorized with a detachable platinum silencer.

"—where is she?"

And the innocent question finally brought him back to his senses, whirling his mind into a state of confusion. (00:43:41:12)

"Hey! Are you sure you can stand, you look a little dizzy."

He gradually raised himself from the cold floor with his legs giving him a solid footing to balance his weight.

(00:43:43:02)

"What are you doing?!"

He reached over the hanging radio on his neck and checked the transmitter.

(00:43:45:20)

Too much static reached his ears, uncomfortably increasing that nervous, growing gut feeling inside his churning stomach.

He needed to move.

(00:43:52:20)

"If you're trying to contact someone from the personnel, it's not possible tonight," There was a perceptible confusion as Naruto tried to explain. As Naruto felt that sense of alarm, he added more urgently,"I heard that all communication lines were cut off. An unexpected blizzard came up and besides, everyone was off for the holida—"

(00:43:59:31)

He rapidly flexed his spine and raised his knees to give him the momentum to stand up quickly, which effectively startled Naruto to a silence, as he then strode off towards the open doors of Lady Uchiha's private hospital room.

(00:44:00:11)

He departed swiftly, leaving the dumbfounded blonde lieutenant gaping.

"—Hey!"

Naruto popped his head from the corner of the aisle as he followed the tall man briskly walking towards the glaring fire exit.

(00:46:26:05)

"Stop!"

Suppressing the urge to uncharacteristically roll his eyes, the older man merely swung the spring door open then waited for the blonde to get through the emergency staircase first. As soon as Naruto entered the door, he lunged down the stairs, skipping five steps until he reached the basement.

"Wait up!"

The young lieutenant grasped the rails in a hurry, while briskly skipping three steps in every stride down the spiral path to catch up.

"Where are we going, huh, huh?" (00:46:36:57)

With a rapid push from his gaunt hands, he opened the door to find themselves underneath the murky fluorescent lights of the basement.

"I'll drive us there," He could hear the anxiety in the blond's offer, as the younger one jumped to the seat, inserted the silver key and set the gear to neutral. "to whatever place we're goi—!"

The irritating loudmouth was suddenly and violently pushed towards the passenger seat, his whiskered face pressed against the dark tinted window.

"Ow!"

(00:47:58:51)

Taking over the driver's side, he turned on the ignition, purposefully ignoring the blond who pointed an accusing finger at him.

"YOU!"

The roar of the engine was drowned out as the wind begun howling to a deafening degree.

"My jeep! This is my ow-OH SHI—!"

As the thick asbestos wheels screeched against the frozen ground, Naruto competed against the engine wailings by bellowing out his terrified exclamation.

(00:48:03:21)

"Can you at least explain to me why you're trying to kill us?!"

Unfortunately, the question was left hanging as they sped across a dark highway. There was a triggered anxiety in Naruto's chest at this uncharacteristic impulsiveness from the usually docile and silent Juugo.

"You don't have to yell, Uzumaki."

"And if I don't raise my voice, how in the world can you hear me?" Gripping the armrest, Naruto continued to rant out in half-anxiety and confusion, "Man, if I only knew that you'd be this reckless—"

(00:50:29:33)

Juugo stepped on the gas pedal with force, which in turn made the bases of their occipital sank on the cushioned head rest.

"SLOW DOWN!"

But like always, Juugo was unruffled from the bedlam of exclamations and merely continued to maneuver the small automobile across the slippery asphalt.

"WE'RE ON ICE WOULD YOU PLEASE STO—!?"

Skidding pointedly, the vehicle brusquely swerved to the left corner, nearly missing the fire hydrant as it scrapped against the bumper. Then Juugo pulled the stick shift to reverse, until they reached an unused tunnel, where the revving sounded so ominous.

"Don't."

(00:51:34:09)

However, as soon as the panicky passenger finished his protests, they were already outside the tunnel in less than a second, and the swirls of flakes started dropping in a furious flurry. The car turned to the left, towards the empty, already shoveled private road.

"You freaking carrot-top, are you—"

(00:51:52:08)

But no matter how much Naruto tried to dissuade Juugo from his very irrational, suicidal-like action, they were not enough to take off the stubborn, right-hand man's obstinate hold from the steering wheel.

"Are you crazy?!"

And when blue irises saw the white needle of the speedometer that told him how fast they really were, Naruto felt the onslaught of adrenaline rush ran through his veins.

(00:53:06:29)

"We're running more than a hundred!"

(00:53:25:40)

Luckily, after all of the struggling for the driver's seat and exclaimed yells about the dangers of ice-covered roads and killer drivers-slash-guards, the one-sided bickering which lasted for fifteen minutes halted at the sight of the familiar, intricate lamp post that led towards the block where the grandiose Uchiha residence was.

(00:54:12:31)

Thus, in a second, he violently stepped—

"I don't want to die!"

(00:54:34:18)

—on the brakes. The poor machine, unable to function to its fullest capability with the subzero temperature, prompted the engine to pitifully sputter and cough to a stop. Inconsiderately then, the indifferent guard merely opened the car door and gravely said to a bewildered Naruto in a deliberate, slow sentence.

"I'll be looking for Lady Uchiha," He threw the jingling keys to expectant tanned hands. "Call anyone available on duty in the cam room."

(00:54:46:39)

Not waiting for any affirmatives, Juugo left a compliant Naruto behind and stalked towards the rear gates of the white, looming building.

(00:54:52:51)

As soon as he was a yard away from the vehicle, he looked back to where the jeep was but found that the blizzard became an impenetrable fortress as it suddenly became stronger. It rendered his sharp sight useless with its blurry gales and masked any sounds Uzumaki could have made as its biting winds roared on his freezing ears.

(00:54:58:49)

Quickly, his drenched form strode inside the nearest entrance; leading himself towards the Uchiha Suites.

(00:54:59:07)

He followed the known scent of freshly melted snow and the minty air, floating amidst the empty halls of the seemingly haunted Palace.

(00:55:00:23)

It was devoid of any soul, not even one worker remained along the hallways.

(00:55:02:52)

It was an unfortunate, coincidental timing that today, of all the days, was when the whole Palace staff took their day-off.

(00:55:08:34)

His usually cool temper flared for a second, when he realized how much perilous this absurd situation was.

(00:55:10:43)

Lord Uchiha's defenses were reduced because they doubled up the security on his wife, since the recent attacks were already directed to her. But even if though Uchiha's personal security team—well, Karin and Suigetsu—adamantly refused this dangerous arrangement; the young lord was more obstinate to make all three to stay beside her.

It never crossed their minds of the possibility, that this could be a tactic of the group who wanted to topple the government; attack the newly discovered weakness to distract their focus, leaving their master unprotected.

(00:55:21:09)

He assumed that Karin and Suigetsu would still be on their post, and desperately hoped that they were able to find Lady Sakura. As he walked along the different pathways inside the Uchiha Wing, he scrutinized every aspect of the technical security equipments. Turning a snappish glance to the stationary cameras in every nook and cranny of the high ceilings, he noticed that they were not working accordingly.

(00:55:38:23)

Some of them should be panning from side to side, yet they were unmoving. Their audio capture was certainly off, as he noticed the missing small microphones. Ringing out ominously on his ears, the static on his earpieces were confirming one thing.

The whole place was infiltrated.

(00:55:51:32)

Whoever the intruder was, he was familiar to the blueprints of secret passageways to enter the control room without raising the alarm by keeping track of every thirty types of anti-intruder detectors inside the palace grounds.

(00:55:57:04)

Who would be capable of entering a heavily guarded military area to gather such information—

(00:56:00:47)

A faint memory flashed: a lethally determined glare, a pair of lips set in a steadfast grim line before the world darkened.

(00:56:03:10)

It was threatening to be under that gaze, to witness such fierceness, no matter how fragile her lithe figure was.

What if—

That was preposterous. Certainly, to achieve something like that was too impossible for Lady Uchiha.

She could not possibly be capable of penetrating their firewalls, since it would take a minimum of twelve hours to crack the detailed layer of protection to fully takeover this certain area:

(00:56:09:27)

Metal sensors on every room inside the estate, seventeen combinations of alphanumeric characters doubled with fingerprint scans and voice recognition with specific decibels as passwords for diverse control rooms, communication line boxes and electrical fuse boxes.

(00:56:18:46)

Besides, each program was designed to be accessed by ranked military officers only.

(00:56:21:52)

And he sent that panicky soldier alone to check the surveillance unit?

(00:56:24:09)

He nearly decided to go after the disaster-prone idiot when he spotted a trail that familiarly led towards the Grand Suite.

(00:56:27:41)

Stepping carefully across the tile floors littered with speckles of powdered ice and wet footsteps, he wondered who Sakura, that he knew for thirty six months, really was.

(00:56:29:38)

The desire to ask why she was so accepting of her fate on that fateful day was still present, an oddly calm stranger he met on that chilly, cold morning with her polite, formal greeting and indifferent smile.

(00:56:30:26)

She had a very peculiar reaction when they arrived early on her doorstep. While every woman on earth flooded their mailboxes to demand that they be picked to marry the Overlord Uchiha, she did not even show any signs of excitement or jittery nervousness at the idea of marrying the most powerful man in the empire.

(00:56:34:37)

Those dubious thoughts he had previously harbored upon seeing her name on top of the candidate lists came back. The manifestations of uncertainty returned slowly to his mind, the unexplainable intuition that something about her was uniquely different apart from millions of prospective candidates to be the new matriarch for the Uchiha bloodline.

(00:56:39:55)

No matter how suitable the security civilian profile number 0126001 was for the position as the new Uchiha consort, these intriguing facts still remained.

(00:56:41:03)

Sakura possessed a clear blank slate of her family records and juvenile cases, which was highly unusual for runaway orphans of four to twelve ages.

(00:56:43:34)

It was also undeniable that she was a highly intelligent woman, and was reported to have received prominent scholarships from many various benefactors.

(00:56:48:43)

Moreover, the Council itself was one of those who supported her education in the University.

(00:56:49:53)

And was very pleased with the choice, which made Lord Uchiha more suspicious of the engagement.

(00:56:50:21)

She was too perfect.

(00:56:52:23)

During her first weeks inside the palace, Juugo tried to be stiffly unreceptive to her friendly approaches, as his ingrained and intensive training taught him to never trust unknown subjects.

(00:56:53:45)

The doubt intensified when he saw how easily she had progressed in adapting as the ideal consort. She managed to gain the insurmountable confidence and skills in such a short amount of time.

(00:56:54:28)

This made him think somehow—no matter how irrelevant the idea was— Sakura was secretly groomed to be an aristocrat, bred in the high courts.

But no matter how hard the three of them tried to find any dirt on her a week before her initiation as the Lady of Nippon-koku, there was absolutely nothing about her except being a brilliant medical student, a social introvert inside the extravagant grounds of the University and financially sustained through her paid internship every night.

They had questioned his Lord's authority for the first time, knowing that the Council was a dangerous entity, as he continued to silence them in inquiring the truth behind the pink-haired enigma.

That was why no matter how cordial the idiotic dead-last was to her; they still considered her a threat.

But unexpectedly, she had earned the traitorous stirrings of pity.

(00:56:55:37)

His unwarranted sympathy emerged when he first saw her before she had consummated her marriage, standing alone in a room filled with strangers.

She was cautious of her words and even gave a small laugh or two to some enthusiastic guest, her actions were refined and perfect; However, Juugo did not missed the fact that she never clung to the presence of her husband for more than a minute when given the chance. Her viridian eyes were staring distantly, a fake smile plastered in place as she walked to every table in the reception hall, an elegant bride gliding over the magnificent occasion.

(00:56:56:41)

Juugo, and perhaps also Naruto since he overheard that simple conversation, had known that even if you marry a man powerful enough to give you the world—literally—it would not guarantee happiness. He may believe that she might have an ulterior motive, but there was no denying that Sakura suffered.

(00:56:57:04)

Yet she carried this indubitably, vexing burden with a patient acceptance. In spite the suffocating loneliness she experienced, she still tried to make her life bearable after her loss of normalcy and control. He was not blind to the effort she exerted, the way this earnest woman gave her best to accomplish her public duties.

(00:56:58:39)

But he was more impressed at her efforts to care for the mule-headed aristocrat, who in turn tried to shut her out. Nevertheless, Sasuke should have expected that steely resolve and stubbornness which rivaled any Uchiha. And being a quiet subservient who observed them outside of their seemingly little universe, he safely assumed that his master was failing in keeping the distance.

(00:56:59:24)

Instead, in those three years, he marveled at those quaint idiosyncrasies that only the both of them seemed to understand: the fleeting touches of fingers he saw underneath layered tables and dimly lit rooms, their quiet glances, that almost smile on a grave façade, faint cryptic compliments to set the other at ease.

(00:57:02:45)

And Juugo knew—as well as the others who witnessed it—that their marriage might have been predetermined and had caustic reasons for their union, but they were blissful and,

(00:57:11:40) even if the couple denied this when teased,

(00:58:23:07)

they were contented.

(00:58:29:21) His respect for Sakura was not for acknowledging her title alone—

(00:58:30:23)

His respect was rooted in her capability to love such a callous, impossible man.

But now, he could feel that something was about to change, charged with peril in the mere situation of things.

Yet he still thought that there was still a crucial point missing tonight, as he carefully shifted himself to a defensive posture.

There was a distant hiss, it was quiet, but loud enough for the silence.

"Don't mock me!"

(00:58:49:32)

It was Sakura's cry, clearly echoing in the barren corridors. It reverberated distinctly amidst the crackling noise on his earpiece, and without any preamble, he discarded the gadget on the floor and stealthily strode off.

His large limbs carried him towards the source of her defiant yet terrified voice through the tall white double French doors. There was an overpowering smell of roses with traces of chlorine and expensive aromatic, votive candles that assaulted his nose.

Analyzing the newly made gaudy interior of the room, flamboyantly arranged in a shower of rose-petals, he barely registered that the maidservant—was it Ino?—had planned to sabotage the Grand Suite with flowers, laces and aromatics in accordance to the anniversary.

The wrought iron chandeliers were covered in truckloads of pearly, shimmering decorative rosy satin. Unimaginable drapes of burgundy curtains hung on the beautiful wooden frames from the Suite. A plushy, red love seat replaced the practical lounging leather couch with a blatant display of heart shaped balloons and cushions scattered throughout the floor.

In careful precision, he quietly stepped inside their sleeping quarters, noticing the untouched sheets scattered, the cleared tables with no signs of any paperwork.

(00:58:57:12)

"Then why,"

He had never heard Lord Uchiha use that sneering, sarcastic tone on Lady Sakura before. It was more deathly cold than the subzero tempest outside, making the tiny scalps on his skin prickle in inexplicable fear. He hesitated to step in further, knowing that this was too private, too intimate.

"Are you not looking at me, Milady?"

(00:59:02:14 )

The malevolent inquiry was goading her to respond, trying to corner her towards the brink of an allegorical deadly precipice. And through the small space that lead to where the strongest scent of fermented wine and cloying sweet nectar petals, he saw his impassive lord and quavering lady, with metal nozzles pointed at each other within a two yards range.

And he swore that his heart pounded anxiously as he recognized the gun she held in her fingers.

All she needed was a clean, close shot to any vital organ, especially when his plated nine millimeter hollow point bullets tend to explode inside the shot entity. With her aim, it would be powerful enough to break a bone, pierce and scatter viscera, remains—

(00:59:02:54)

And though he still doubted that what he was witnessing was real, the desperate answer stunned him.

"Every time I see your face,"

(00:59:05:13)

The words were hard, flinty and resolute. He could hear the strained voice gaining strength in that whispered conviction, trying not to show that it was nearly broken.

"It reminds me that this was a mistake."

It was pitifully wretched and accusing, like it was kept for a long time and all the accumulated furious emotions brimming exploded at this very instant.

(00:59:09:29)

"That you have deprived me of the life that I really wanted."

There was that slow progression of movement, the way a tendon tensed, and her eyes focused on his chest as Sasuke stared at her with that unreadable mask, his feline movements slow as he inched closer.

(00:59:10:37)

And as long, flexing digits drifted over the frame of his own weapon, Juugo begun to think swiftly, processing her proclamation—her rejection of this life.

She tricked them.

"I said, don't move," She screamed, and Sasuke stopped because her warning was now susceptible as she stepped back. Within the dregs of the unfurled tension, he finally realized that it was time to act. Nervous sweat broke over his temple, as the misty steam of the bathroom distorted his sight and murky thoughts.

(00:59:19:40)

Something different took over as he finally decided, making him discreetly took off a weapon out of his leg holster. His tangerine hair was half-exposed to the doorway, nozzle bared at the rim of the open doorway.

"Uchiha, don't!"

(00:59:20:08)

And even if his body refused to move, joints seemingly languorous, Juugo had to take her down.

(00:59:22:24)

No matter how unforgivable it would be to do so,

(00:59:26:34)

"I'll kill—"

(00:59:27:00)

Juugo would not let Uchiha Sasuke to die because

(00:59:28:19)

"—you!"

(00:59:29:45)

of one selfish weakness.

(00:59:30:00)

With his aim ready at the back of her head, his resolve was firm.

"Sakura."

(00:59:31:51)

Then he saw that Sasuke gave the smallest shift of his wrist—a movement too brief to be caught, too minute to be seen with a pair of tear-blurred eyes—which would change trajectory of his aim.

(00:59:32:22)

His master had his gun pointed at him.

(00:59:33:14)

-じ- _

"Thank you." (00:59:45:04) As a sharp, loud cracking shot pierced the silence, (00:59:45:14)

her small index finger curled on that tiny metallic latch in an instant reflex, concealing the hushed killing sound.

(00:59:45:16)

[tomatolapdance]

volume three : waking up [4/4]

Unfocused jade irises half-dazedly opened.

There were a couple of shouts, confusing alarmed sounds & a fuming command.

"—ryone, get out of the room."

The remaining complaints were fuzzy to her ears.

"—also means you, Uzumaki. I don't care whoever ordered you to stay here! Let me talk to my patient!"

The noises decreased, as the mixed scents of morning coffee and bleach stimulated into her senses.

"Lady Uchi-" Tsunade began, and shook her head. "Sakura, are you coherent right now? Nod if you can hear me."

"I-" Sakura began to speak, even if her mouth was as dry as sand. "I'm okay. Where am I?"

"We're in a hospital, a private room." Tsunade said, the information spoken automatically.

Eyelids fluttering open, she took in her present surroundings. She was with her mentor's worried gaze, her shivering body warmly covered with a plain comforter. Freshly watered daffodils were at her bedside table, along with a couple of charts that was piled up on its surface. The hospital bed was raised, her woven braided hair lying on the soft pillows that supported her aching head.

"You've been sleeping for almost three days. It's Monday afternoon, December 19th"

"Blood!" As if she was suddenly electrocuted, Sakura bolted out of her bed in panic. Before Tsunade could even begin to reprimand her, the young woman began on telling what she remembered. "And there were some contractions and I was really queasy during the night. I just couldn't sleep."

Sakura grabbed the bedrails, trying to push herself up; wincing in pain as another pair of hands gently settled her back towards the mattress. "I know that by the end of first trimester should lessen the vomiting spells but I thought I was experiencing a bad case of hyperemesis—"

"You have to calm down." Her mentor spoke again, glinting copper irises staring at her.

"No, I need to know. What happened?"

"Listen to me, Sakura." The stone-cold order was unusually firm. "Please."

Then she finally noticed the odd stinging sensations. Her gauzed hand was inserted with intravenous tubing, connected to the nearly finished pint of blood, hanging from its stand. A couple of liquids hung, waiting for the blood to be drained before the drug-mixed fluids would be infused.

The damn emptiness was beginning to swallow her whole.

It was too late.

"I miscarried."

The words were vicious and it didn't sound right. But there was no way she was wrong about that.

"I just barely reached the sixteenth week, its common for women to have this type of..." Her teeth bit a plump lip. "But I thought I was enough to..."

"No." The starch-white coat was luminescent in the dimly lit room. A gently drawn sigh was released from Tsunade, settling herself to the nearby seat with her bronze orbs hardened to the unknown notions that passed briefly on her mind. "Sakura, you are a healthy young woman. I made sure that you would definitely have a normal gestation and delivery."

"But it happens." Sakura stressed. "Even though I didn't have any control, there must be something wrong with me."

Hands that were so used to healing, to holding comfort was now enclosed around her (almost daughter) apprentice's shaking ones.

Then the grip tightened over her knuckles.

"I should've listened to your husband." Her voice was weary, a failed attempt at some humor.

Her crestfallen countenance changed into a frank confusion. "It's a spontaneous miscarriage. What could he—"

"You were poisoned, Sakura."

Then she stilled.

"But that means, Tsunade, everyone—"

"It was only on our table."

"Slow-acting?"

"No. It's a poison to you." The gears on her mind worked, as she begun to connect the fragments of the puzzling hints together. "It was a labor-inducing drug. Its aim was not to kill us—"

Sakura couldn't even speak.

"—but the child."

The ability was stolen from her as Tsunade explained bleakly.

"Apparently, whoever he was, doesn't know how long you were pregnant." And here, her stern facade wavered as she sustained the professional composure to clarify matters. "The medication was mixed in its refined form along with the confectionary sugar." Her pair of copper irises was now partly hidden from her, as they remained on the metallic glint of her med chart.

"The hospital staff who ate the cake slices kept on vomiting." Callused fingers were gripping the coarse, thick covers "Fortunately, I managed to save a sample to be tested. It showed that the amount of the drug was higher than its therapeutic level, making sure that it would be effective, since the standard dose for an abortifacient only works for the ninth week. "

"But why," The parched articulation nearly ate her words, on the verge of breaking apart. "Why didn't I taste the drug if it was such in a high dose?"

"You know that your taste changes because of your pregnancy. You couldn't have known, Sakura."

There was an underlying message to Tsunade's statement, a compelling force of her words. (It's not your fault.)

"No one knows that I'm pregnant."

(Suffer the consequences.) The threat had been surreal for her at that time.

"The bulge was not even visible. I tried to hide my sickly condition from public."

And now, this was the reality that he was not indeed letting his old grudges leave so peacefully.

"Only the three of us knows, Tsunade."

She was shuddering at he thought that he had known such a confidential subject.

"How?"

"I…don't know." Uncertainly, Tsunade only shook her head in concern. "I wasn't probably careful enough with the records. I thought that I had them protected with multiple passwords and filters. Nobody could have guessed until you reached the fourth month."

Then even before she finished the train of her thought, a pressing matter came to her mind.

"Where's Sasuke?"

"You should go to sleep, Sakura."

"I need to see him."

A prickling sensation radiated from her weakened limbs, as she willed them to move with toes nearly reaching the cold ground as she flapped the blanket away from her legs. There was frenzy in her jerky actions, in despair to move, to just disappear. But the same obstinate hands were forcing to be inert, as Sakura was forced to sit upon her cot.

"I haven't seen Lord Uchiha since that night."

Seventy years of somnolence suddenly blemished that ageless beauty.

"Does he know?" "

Fatigue started to crack upon the visage of nonchalance the younger lady had to put up with, rounding on to the figure that worried over her.

"Please, Sakura, you're still recuperating from blood loss and-"

(Tsunade's face was almost motherly.)

"Leave me, please."

Cornflower-tinted shutters were shut tightly, and the faded sunlight was gone.

"He only asked one thing, Sakura."

Then she was enclosed in the solid embrace of the elder woman, the rose-tinted head buried in the rough lapels of the coat, with assuaging hands brushing through the stray knots of the lightest auburn tresses.

"And I told him that you were carrying a boy."

The long arms tightened their hold. The hold was a stubborn effort to console, telling the vulnerable woman to shed the overwhelming anguish into something substantial. The hospital gown was damp with the succoring tears that trickled, but they weren't hers.

She was too weak, too stunned, too numb, to even weep.

x

Since that disturbing elucidation yesterday, there was an unexplainable ambivalence that took over her: to surrender to this dull anesthetized life or to remain oblivious to the loss.

She hardly noticed the patient vigil that her visitors did for four days. In an early Tuesday morning, Naruto and Hinata were sitting beside her, conversing about petty issues.

She wasn't listening as they talked about how Ino constantly skipped her work to visit her with the bunch of daffodils that lay on the crystalline vase. How Tenten had been extremely agitated to be the last one to learn about her condition and was not allowed to visit her during weekdays. That it was lucky that the media was not hounding on her very doorstep because the Council had taken the situation in their hands, only saying that she was gravely not at ease and that there were preposterous rumors; an attempt on her life or being conditioned with a serious sickness.

They talked about anything except to tread on that dangerous subject, a landmine that they tried not to trample on. Yet no matter how they tried to evade it, she could see the questions in their eyes.

They amplified the grave atmosphere over her dismal personal prison; their pity was almost palpable to her fingers.

When they left to get her something to drink, she asked the nurses let no one come in.

x

The surge of moderate analgesics through her nearly collapsed veins was making her senses muddled. The morning dose of painkillers was given as the listless pace as Wednesday started with muted dispute on her door.

"—don't care if it was an uncontrollable situation, Lady Tsunade!" The argument was deafening, arousing her from her dazed slumber, even though it was obviously kept to minimal volume. "It still died and we cannot afford to have—"

"But it's not really her fault! She was poisoned, Lady Koharu!"

"But for three years, she hasn't been able to conceive! Three years!" Homura, one of the elders, replied angrily.

"She's still young! And they had it all planned, Lord Homura!"

The scrapping voice was grating as the eldest, Lord Danzo, continued to grill on the weakness of the argument. "We will not allow this. Every one of us in the Council had already expected an heir as early as possible because of all the threats on Lord Uchiha's life." There was finality in that tone. "Lord Uchiha had sworn a solemn oath to the Council that she would bear a successor within months after their union! They had already delayed it enough! If she is incapable of producing an offspring, then we have to discard that useless tramp— "

"Stop that!" She could hear the thunderous response from someone; probably it was Naruto, who just returned from the cafeteria and heard the heated discussion.

Scuffling sounds were heard, as if they were struggling to contain the angry man. There were a few spats of disrespectful words from the elders, and some admonishing from Tsunade.

"Please." They were interrupted when she heard that soft, presaging tenor from whom she had remembered as Obito. "She's resting."

Deliberate fuming footsteps faded, an undisturbed peace returned, leaving her to those unforgiving mind-wanderings.

After an hour, she heard from within the room Juugo's low, compromising instructions to Naruto that the Overlord was requesting the lieutenant's presence.

Naruto complied with an unexpected serious affirmative, but only after Juugo's tall form motioned to take his place as a sentinel at her door.

x

She wants to sleep but at the same time tried to elude it. Every single night of her slumber and waking hour of her days were filled with (painstaking) apparitions of a son who calls her a mother, of a husband, of a family, of a living that consisted of them.

She was striving to survive in this four bleached, white-washed room, as the intervals of hours bleakly passed.

It was already the sixth day.

He never came.

x

It was different from the other false truths, from the figments of her gradually obliterating mind.

This dream was not where she was drifting, seeing things as they were from a large point of view from above. Instead of seeing an older, more elegant self scurrying over a nonexistent child, she was reclining from the slope of the hospital mattress, supporting her weak back, like what she had been doing daily. The identical dreary corners, the almost wilting hydrangeas in the porcelain vase placed before the closed window panes.

Moon rays from the breaches of the blinds soaked a silhouette, outlining the shifting figure, and then splaying fragments of ashen colors over the indiscernible face.

A beckoning lost word, Sasuke, disturbed the tranquility.

The phantom did not respond, shifting to accommodate itself on the side of the bed. He sat sullenly, gazing on the whorls of grey cirrus, curling around at the bottom of the moon. Hands clasped together in a fictitious prayer as it nearly obscured his moving lips where the soundless words escaped.

Tell me.

She furrowed her brows in perplexity, tell him what? She wanted to ask, but her voice wasn't hers.

I wish, someone uttered, defeated. I wish that I had killed you from the very start. This wouldn't happen if I did.

There was a grunt, as if he found that very idea ludicrous.

I can't stand this. There was fury coating the edge of those words. You gave me this. You used me.

Do it. He softly demanded, counteracting the anguished vehemence in those accusations.

She wavered, I can't. I'm scared—

Don't be. A grave, dark voice, like the benevolent devil himself, promised. I'll protect you.

Through the haze of the incoherent falsehoods that merely raised dead hopes, she felt the lightest touch of fingers on her forehead.

(a desperate pledge, an ill-omened act)

Her fazed sight saw a clumsily folded long sleeve, a nuance of that midnight hair, and a thin, frowning grimace.

She felt her throat strings grate out a frantic word.

Stay.

He was here, here. x Sakura woke up.

The pink-haired woman rose quickly from the hard hospital bed and swerved her anxious eyes over the bedside seat across her, where her husband was supposed to be.

With a shake of her messy tresses, drearily trying to clear her head, she persuaded herself, with an unspeakable sorrow washing over her, that Uchiha Sasuke beside her was not even possible.

The lingering scent of pine and snow was not enough to convince her and neither the unexplainable warmth that she could still feel on her moist forehead. He couldn't be here and disappear the minute she gained her bearings.

Trying to peer through the haze of sleep, the nearby clock told her it was already five minutes past midnight.

Her sanity was again playing with her with its brutal hallucinations, as she tried to convince herself that she didn't want to dream anymore.

(It's agonizing because what she truly wanted was his lingering company not his mere empty words.)

But instead, a shrill ringing crushed her wishful thinking.

That's-

A disturbingly familiar ring tone, like a lethal, waiting siren, wafted through her ears.

It can't be.

It persisted and her frightened, wide doe-eyes turned to see that harmless, black cell phone.

A sheer, unadulterated, pure terror went down her spine.

That thing looked like it had never left her side at all, bearing no evidence of its supposed damages.

Quivering fingers grasped the object as it interrupted the deceiving calm.

The fear that was coursing through her thinly recovering blood suddenly surged the adrenaline, increasing the residues of fright within her body.

She flipped the phone with uncontrollable trembling fingers and pushed the numbers as she cut the persistent ringing.

(It was Friday. 0010 hours to be exact. The twenty third of December.)

And Sakura waited for him to speak, her breathing heavy and the silence became overbearing.

"Fool. You thought that I was the one controlling you?"

She was about to say the most debasing things she knew but he swiftly parried her with a more damaging assault.

"He is the one manipulating you."

No. A pulse stopped, refusing to beat for a millisecond, at those words. No, no. He isn't.

"You can see it, don't you, Lady Uchiha?" There was a ringing conviction those muted, distorted accent. "And when that spoiled brat doesn't get what he wants, he'll leave—"

"He'll leave me."

Finally, she understood why he was not coming over.

Why did she keep on denying that her only purpose was just to produce the perfect heir? She was a failure—it did not matter even if it was caused by poison or not—and that's unforgivable for him.

She had been mistaken. He never offered her anything after all.

"I will leave you alone. All you have to do is—"

She slid the phone shut, the metal flap closing with an alarming snap. Grasping it unyieldingly, she held it as her key to this last, desperate future that she hoped for.

(All along, she had always known that ending all of this was easy.)

The door unlocked as the silent orange-haired bodyguard, with a questioning glance, entered the room. "Milady, you're awake?"

"Yes." She replied, too easily, the phone in her hand was tightly gripped despite the ache in her fingers. She lowered the rails and fleetingly dangled her feet from the edge of the mattress. "Juugo?"

(It was as simple)

Mandarin orbs were wary, as she gave a minute smile to reassure him. She stood on her feet; surprisingly steady for someone who was catatonic for the past few days. Tangled, French-braided hair was wiry, and her face was still sickly pasty-colored despite the fact that she stopped taking IVs for her diet.

"Do you need something, Milady?"

Crossing the room, Sakura walked towards him with that startling smoothness. Many have seen her walk with that certain grace, trained as a woman of the court. But the fact that there was a languidly fatal ease in that grace, made him anxious and wary at the sudden twinge of danger he felt

Shaking his head at those absurd suspicions, he went inside.

He did not foresee that quick blow to his neck, as a stunned look overtook his expression, astonishing him with the brute strength from that lithe hand and rapid movement within that small amount of time.

Falling to the ground with a smothered thud, she caught him by the sides of his armpits and dragged him towards the corner.

(as those two words,)

Shoving the unconscious guardian aside, she took his coat, dropped the cell on the inside pocket, and felt for that silvery lustrous thing that she required for this night.

(which is equivalent)

In surreptitious actions, she peered outside to make sure that there weren't any stray people who noticed the commotion.

A snoring Naruto was lounging outside the doors, napping loudly as he sat on the recliners chairs. But she disregarded any emotion, even any sense of guilt, to accomplish this single task.

(to one death.)

She had wrenched the windows open with her elbow, her tiny, inconspicuous figure slipping out a leg.

Carefully, she dangled on the latch with the sleeves of the stolen coat covering her hands and shut the panes with a squeak. The consuming dark chasm gave her cover as the moon dissolved behind the clouds.

("Kill him." His last command was imprinted solidly on her mind. )

x

The gates were open, and there wasn't even a single person outside.

She did not care if the paths were clear of loitering maidens or loafing sentries, if her mind was vacant of any notion and if that her other hand could feel the cold phone and the dark metallic hilt at the same time.

As she strode over the felted floor with feline grace, she realized that there was no need for any thoughts; her feet knew where to go. It was another of those little things that testified how attached she was, how she had been deeply connected to this faux existence.

Lashing winds, a sign of a coming blizzard, blew harshly against her face, flapping the edges of the thick garment. But despite the seeping ice-breezes that found their way underneath the layers of the darkest green coat to the thin hospital gown she still wore, her skin never felt the jabs of cold that should have shook her. The ends of the large cashmere blazer whipped against her exposed calves, but it did not hinder the speed of her pace through the empty, dark hallways of the Palace.

And now that she could finally see the same French doors, troubled that it was unexpectedly void of any living soul usually stationed at this familiar entrance, reminded her that she was already here—to this point of no turning back— and she did not have any time to reconsider the possibilities of anything, for she must conclude this as quickly as she could without any moment of doubt.

She released her hands from the lapels of her coat, wrapped the ends of the long sleeves around her palm to prevent the traces of her fingerprints. In vigilance, she pushed the doors quietly to the smallest gap that would allow her small body to pass through.

The seeping sounds of water disturbed the false tranquility, clearly heard from the entry area of their bed chambers.

Her confidence wavered as the first leaks of uneasiness slowly creased her resolute face. In agonizingly slow steps, she neared the glass doors with her grip on the hilt tightening and ready to coil into any necessary action.

Furtively, the opaque, grainy door slithered noiselessly. A gentle clinking sound of a bottle, probably filled with rich wine, softly tapped against a wide rim of a crystal glass was heard. A sudden onslaught of the aromatic, addicting, fermented alcohol, reached her nostrils.

He's intoxicated. She took this as an advantage, the predicament increasing her opportunity to finish this without difficulty. But why is he even drinking?

Yet halfway through the movement, she froze as she heard the sloshing splatters of a body rising from a tub of water. Instinctively, she straightened her spine, clutched the hilt firmly and stared at the artistically gaping tree-shadow holes of the barriers.

Evident sinews of his chest were lapped with the trickles of warm fluids, as she caught a glimpse of his form from the providing views of the dividers. She could see from the faint illumination the contours of his biceps as he reached for the nearby towel.

Her target stood before the large circular bathtub, burgundy rose petals—as soft as drops of blood—was floating languidly on the warm liquid. His hand was currently ruffling his damp hair with a dry, azure-hued cloth, and the other knotting another elongated towel around his waist.

The mellow glow of the lamps lit the entry path, as she sinuously walked on the endless stretch of the marble floor. Light, airy steps were soundless, as she faced the cover of the brick walls.

Thump.

That small, pounding organ beneath her breast rhythmically bleated its beat.

Thump.

She paused in her footsteps as he turned his back to her, sauntering away from the tub.

Thump.

"You shouldn't be here," It rebounded upon the empty walls, that familiar deriding voice echoing. "Lady Uchiha."

In hushed, patient steps, he paced slowly, going towards the end of the luxurious boundary that split the bathroom. When he reached the posterior tip of the brick walls, he had gone out of the range of her periphery as his foot falls also diminished from her auditory senses.

"Where are they?" Shrewd jade irises trained its attention to his movements, trying to avoid a glance to his face. He walked towards the corner directly opposite of her position, taking a nightly sea-hued bathrobe from the rack as he replaced it with the towel he used to dry his recalcitrant cowlick hair.

"The halls are empty." Her muted voice was as detached as his. "Karin and Suigetsu are not in their posts."

With that certain refined poise, he slowly ambled towards the sink, turning the silver faucet open as he rinsed his hands.

"You must have missed them on your way here."

He spoke, as if they were conversing of an inconsequential matter. But she knew the meaning under that order: He was allowing himself to lose all of his impenetrable fortification, giving the stronghold of his defenses to her side in the hospital.

Her rebellious thoughts were going haywire. He wasn't supposed to be alone.

"But you must have met Juugo."

She took a sharp intake of air, her arms increasing a slight tilt to support her lowering aim, quickly returning her concentration to the current predicament.

"Glock 18." There was a certain, knowledgeable precision to his words, as she tried to discern the logical reasoning. "Military-made. Equipped with a platinum silencer." There was a hint of an entertained sneer at the end of his statement. "Juugo's favorite."

She had enough. She was running out of time.

(More like running out of courage to do this.)

"Don't move." Her voice did not waver, as her hand (finally!) stopped shaking. "Not even a muscle."

But as always, the arrogant bastard never listened.

In an unanticipated velocity, he pulled out, from his sleeves, a weapon.

The same Glock pistol, without the silencing cylinder attached to its nozzle.

"Shoot."

He encouraged with such cold, caustic sarcasm as he raised the gun, arching a sardonic eyebrow at her.

(This was a paradox)

Click.

(of those afternoon parks, of those silent talks, of those welcoming nights)

The bullet was already loaded into the barrel.

(of his kind eyes, of his gentle touch, of his assurance.)

He was intimidating before her, with the firearm ominously pointed to the middle of her head.

(of him, of him, of him.)

"Don't mock me!" She hissed as her other hand wrapped the handle to steady and hide her shuddering grasp. She avoided letting her fixated eyes to stray from her target, the midline of his left chest, knowing that she could not summon up the guts to ruin his face. It's an excruciating death, but it would not crumble up her resolve.

"Then why," The cruel amusement was apparent. "are you not looking at me, Milady?"

She couldn't even look at him.

The sharp edge of the trigger was barely scratching the frames of her index tip.

Beyond doubt, she was that pathetic.

"Every time I see your face,"

And she knew that she couldn't. Couldn't.

"It reminds me that this was a mistake."

But she had to.

"that you have deprived me of the life that I really wanted."

She had to.

On the boundary of her marginal sight, she saw him taking a step towards her.

"I said, don't move!"

He took another step forward with his right bare foot.

"Uchiha, don't!" In near hysterics, she lifted her head, blurry gem-irises revealed under the covers of her damp roseate strands. "I'll kill you!"

Then she made a fatal mistake: She met his eyes.

Those dark, dark pair of orbs wavered, which was rarely seen from this overconfident man. Those familiar gray-slate irises shifted in sporadic mysterious colors, a hint of ache transitioning quickly into anger, transforming rapidly to annoyance. Until, they morphed into something vague yet chillingly tangent like a sharp steel of a vicious murderous, killing intent.

Then, those broken eyes, like gray nimbus clouds, flickered with lightning.

He faintly slanted his chin in that recognizable stately tilt, with his face entirely apathetic and his blank gaze carved out of granite.

When he mentioned her name—in bitterness,

"Sakura."

in warmth—her tears finally spilled from her lids, teeming with grief.

Her index finger shakily hovered, waiting to press that simple trigger. But she was entirely paralyzed from her neck to her feet and could not even gain her sense of control as she realized that (she, he) they were going to die.

He finally decided.

She already chose.

"Thank you."

And a sharp, loud cracking shot pierced the silence. x

—the act is done, the die is cast!—

[tomatolapdance]

volume three : waking up [3/4]

Gasp.

She laid prone on her back, defenseless, arms splayed wide, with the coldness piercing against her spine & the ceiling lights blinding her.

The mattress pressed harshly behind, the heat made her swelter tremendously. She could feel the dehydration settling, shackling her weakened body against the uneven ground. The swell of her lumps ached, and they began to throb.

And then she let her mouth widen into a silent scream of pain.

It was indescribable.

It burned. It pierced. It stabbed.

It was a sensation of something (pulledheavedstretched!) that could not be explained by mere words.

(half of your body buried six feet under the dirt.)

It radiated endlessly till her whole body felt that she could have convulsed right at this very place, as it progressively took its time for the ache to become unbearably consuming. Beads of sweat lined her forehead, her cracked, rough lips panting as she continued to concentrate. She could not even imagine the audacity it took for her to-

Breathe!

They instructed from the corner of her awareness. She did, & did it with increasing difficulty. The pressure seemed to press everything except for that concentrating mantra of her abdominal muscles to relax, to dizzily follow the simple pattern of respiration.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Her gasps continued to be cut short, scrunching her puffed eyelids and frustrated tears escaped her eyes. Obscenities flew out from her mouth, degrading that son of a bitch, that poor, lame excuse of a husband who was probably sitting somewhere outside, only waiting for this excruciating, damned labor to be over while she was practically dying at this point!

She could still hear the voices, telling her that it was fully effaced, dilated, already descending, coming - but she could not care less. The intensity of the contractions collided every two to three minutes, only halting for a few seconds, only to return with increasing crescendo.

Push! Now push! They commanded, those yells nearly falling to unhearing ears.

She couldn't name who was ordering her, but she did push. How could she not? It was something that she needs to completely focus on, as if her existence depended on it. The chasm that she had held back since the maelstrom started was now unleashed. Grasping the poor nearby, offered hand at her side tightly, she halted to breath and then forced her muscles, with the sheer strength of will, to bear down.

(rotated, expanded, pulled, gushed)

Then, then, it was gone.

Gone.

Because she could faintly hear that loquacious cry, could barely see those unseeing small pair of eyes peering up from the swaddling cloth that they settled in between her breast. And her throat constricted to close off any sound of her raspy, acrid voice, as her gentle fingers felt the sides of his tiny soft cheeks.

This tiny beautiful creature turned towards her touch, his face scrunching up, puckering his thin lips. Her fluttering caress trailed over to the thin midnight strands of his tender scalp and she felt the soft thrumming of his quick heartbeat.

Like his father, they whispered in adoration.

Sakura let out a teary laughter, as a shaking, elated smile made its way to her iridescent face. She took in the sight of her, his, their son. Sallow-skinned, slowly reddening, with his mouth in that adorable grimace, unknowingly brewing a few stinging drops on the precipice of her eyelids.

Like his papa, she agreed.

We'll take him, bringing the newborn, wrapped around the warmth of the linens, away from her feeble grasp.

He was carried away from her, and she didn't understand the rise of alarm that had swelled from her lungs, but the tremendous exhaustion brought by this ordeal had finally taken its toll. Weakly grinning, she succumbed to a light nap for assuage her tired, worn body.

x

The livid, lusty shriek broke the tranquil state of her sleep. Groggily, her lids fluttered, sight trying to adjust from the dimness of the room. Carefully, she turned her head to see a sniveling little face over a broad, sturdy shoulder covered in a soaked trowel. The pair of small dark green eyes were peering at her with disdain, then scrunching up to prepare itself for an another wail.

Before the month old infant even managed to express its vexation, a soothing, masculine hand brushed the soft dark curls of his adorable forehead. The effect did little to diminish the minute hungry frown, but it did manage to curb the child from bawling out again.

Raising a hand to the edge of the desk beside her for support, the usual chaotic documents that occupied it were gone and were instead replaced with hypoallergenic powders, wrapped-up polyester diapers and soiled cotton linens. The baby started on chewing his little fist and fussed upon his father's neck, and she finally decided that the Overlord needed some help in this losing battle.

Curbing the urge to laugh, she called out to the exhausted father and outstretched her arms in welcome. He then faced her, his unreadable gaze staring at her amused green eyes, glimmering almost innocently like the child in his arms, and he acquiesced silently to her request. Gingerly cradling the baby, she slipped the strap of her thin silk night gown to bare a naked, engorged breast.

Reclining on the huge soft pillows as Sasuke sat on the edge of the mattress; Sakura cradled their son on her arms, humming an old, lulling lullaby. Her boy was ravenous, as he felt the tip of the nipple on his plump cheek and reflexively his minute, gluttonous mouth started suckling to satiate his voracious appetite. With a hushing whisper, she spoke unintelligibly as the little thing ate.

x

The mouth was undeniably drooling excessively, gnawing the rim of the turquoise tumbler, much to Suigetsu's horror. The sneaky squirt, Karin had complimented until small, tiny fingers grabbed her glasses from her face. The clever child crawled towards the other side of the patio, his nimble body trying to find some solace towards the waiting lap of Juugo, to chew on his new found toy. Two front incisors bit on the plastic frame, which Juugo took away and commented that their young master would probably need some childproofing around because he was teething.

x

Little patter of footsteps walked upon the carpeted floor with hands creeping, almost suctioned upon the wall, as his tiny feet tried to hold himself up from being pulled back by gravity. He was walking slowly, one step at a time, trying to find his way towards his father's office. The child had slinked outside of his nursery, trying to lead himself to his preferred destination with the use of touching the pillars and walls of the empty long corridors of the grand palace. Thankfully, Neji found him, the lost one-year old gazing at him pleadingly. And no one would ever imagine that the untouchable right-hand would even take the child on a piggy back ride towards the jungle of the Uchiha office.

She saw them, a witty Tenten badgering the young Hyuuga as the dark-haired kid whipped the sides of Neji's hair like a horsewhip. The boy was snickering, as the right-hand man kept his dignity intact when he handled her missing, playful son back to her arms. As an imperative, she started giving a long-winded scolding of why he shouldn't do that again while they waited for their taciturn father to get out from his staunchly busy office.

x

This has a lot of carbohydrates, a little bit of iron. The lecture started. It's got some iodine and needed fat for the body's metabolism. The blonde idiot speaks of needed nutritional content from his ever-favorite meal to the young inquisitive two year old boy beside him, his dark hair sticking out in odd angles as he listened intently on their sunlit patio.

His tanned face was grinning mischievously like a cunning fox as he dangled the noodles from the two bits of wood. What in the world was he doing? With her instincts going awry, she went closer, the white summer dress billowing as she tried to apprehend the bumbling freak who was now ordering about two extremely large porcelain bowls for the both of them.

When the child coughed, the steam rising from the condiment indicated that the boy's tongue—red, swollen, wet—was scalded; Sakura was ready to deck the young blonde man out of his seat. She was already contemplating on throwing her slip-ons to the back of that lieutenant's skull when a tall, dark-haired man whacked Naruto's dense head and grabbed the young boy from his stool.

The frown on her husband was enough to pacify the promise of death that she was about to inflict to her son's godfather. And then Naruto turned to her, with the guilty cobalt eyes and his mouth already releasing a monologue of apologies. But she would not hear any of the reasons, because Sasuke would take the matters on his own hands. All she wanted was to make sure that their boy drinks milk and not to be overfed again with tomatoes because the child thought it would make his father proud. But the two-year old looked up to his savior, who merely pushed a large tomato to his tiny palm. Without any question, the boy bit on the paper-thin skin of the crimson fruit, with such deliberate slowness that he had surely imitated from Sasuke.

x

When she turned to the boy-midget with a sermon on her lips, the four year old was stumbling on his feet, stout, short legs trying to keep up with the fast pace of movements. Don't rush, his trainer softly instructed as the blunt, practice sword was positioned to the rudimentary defense stance. The child was stiff, awkward, trying to follow the skilled swordsman as the first tap of his short blade was deflected easily. Sasuke was strict and disciplined but he was careful, and she always sat on the benches, a bandage and a kiss for her son's bruises and a poke on the forehead for her husband's anal attitude.

x

The lad idolized his father, doing everything that was sure to show that he was indeed worthy to be called the young master of the Palace. Indeed, he was-as expected from the first of the third generation of the Uchiha Clan-a prodigy. For in such a tender age of eight, he managed to excel in his chosen musical endeavors, particularly while he fiddled with his tiny violin and tinkered with his piano forte. He amazed their personal guards, or what he precociously called them as his personal babysitters, when he sometimes spoke to them in their respective native tongues conversationally. This had greatly pleased the council, and approved of his steadfast loyalty to the government. But for someone so precocious, he could not totally grasp the underlying politics when they announced that he was going to be shown to the public at the tender age of eight.

Her young boy was starting to gain a few inches in height, his visage being more evident to every individual below the raised pedestal. The apprehension grew along with him, this small, kindred soul of refined manners, inherent cleverness and unquestionable obedience to his lord and lady. Because her son stood there, a child who should have been enjoying mud puddles and kite flying, now subjected to such judging and critical eyes. As his name was called, introduced as the official heir, master of an empire that he was being trained for since his first breath, he descended the marble stairs, face schooled into that regal impassiveness.

Milord

The child lowered his small chin to show a sign of respect.

Then Sasuke, who always found faults at anything, was there, proud of his son. And as always, he didn't need to speak those words out, the mere touch of his hand on his son's shoulder, and that almost unseen smile was enough.

And as his encompassing hand engulfed her slender fingers to his hold, a small hand impatiently tugged at her other one.

Mama.

Euphoria bloated from the cavity of her ribs.

The soft-spoken word made her forget that there was something she had missed.

x

A bright, welcoming smile, reflected from a pair of small spring-green eyes, on the face of a child who just looked like him.

A fresh pine scent wafted through her nose, and a warm brush of callused digits brushed her shivering ones.

It was over.

[tomatolapdance]

volume three : waking up [2/4]

"Here comes the bride, all dressed in white!"

Hinata emerged from the entrance of colonnade columns coiled with bougainvillea vines as Lohengrine's bridal march played on the organ. Her husband proudly sang made-up lyrics of the famous hymn, exuberantly galloping on the red, freshly rolled-out carpets.

Naruto then took his wife's waist, raised her up in the air & brought her towards the altar in glee. This unorthodox taking of the bride from her father scandalized poor Hiashi, nearly bursting a weak artery in his cranium. Fortunately, the crisis was averted when the ceremony finally started.

After the wedding of the lifetime, (where Naruto had replied to the benevolent minister's binding question of "...take Lady Hyuuga as your beloved wife?" with a, "HELL, of course I do, Father!") the dinner was held at a large convention room, illuminated with old-fashioned incandescent light bulbs. These light sources were mounted on antique lanterns at every corner of the vicinity.

Five foot-tall windows were concealed by pale chartreuse curtains, their straw-colored tassels at the sides. Thirty average-sized, round tables, containing about six people each, littered the venue. Elliptical glass centerpieces filled with gold-banded flowers were placed on the middle of tables, their pleasant aroma stimulating as the scented votive candles gently mingled with the languid scent. A jazz ensemble played a couple of relaxing tunes to mellow the satisfied, warm milieu.

The Hyuuga Clan had generously offered to pay for half of the wedding expenses when Naruto decided to use his hidden stash of cash in order to prove to his indifferent rival that he could totally beat the magnificent grandeur of the Uchiha wedding three years ago.

But Naruto failed to defeat the impression their wedding had, for the Uzumaki-Hyuuga union was short of the expensive giveaways, the savory gourmet, the ethereal elegance of the places and that memorable fairy-tale fantasy situation, a noble man and a commoner to be wed, that had swooned not only the nation, but the whole world as well.

However, even if it didn't have great numbers of foreign guests, vast media coverage and an ostentatious glamor, the small gathering had the most important thing that her fancy wedding lacked.

It felt like a family.

Naruto, stupid as he may be, was right. It was truly a wedding of a lifetime.

"Lady Uzumaki, can you stand over the platform? Girls, yes, stand behind her. "

After the high pitched giggles, deafening squeals and a few stiletto stomping was reduced, the countdown began.

"One."

Bated breaths were drawn.

"Two."

They were ready to leap and fight.

Exuberant ladies, clad in skirts and swirls of canary-yellows and shaded aubergine, prepared themselves to catch (or for others, evade) the hand-tied bouquet.

Ino, Miss Temari and a couple of long-haired females were fighting over that particular spot where the assorted bundle of flowers would land on. She would've laughed hard, but it would be breaching etiquette if she cracked in loud cackles. Instead, she tried not to snicker while finishing her glutinous, savory soup. (The main dish was not safe to her current physical condition.)

But then, the bouquet of oriental lilies and freesias was not caught by a despairing woman, but an indolent, sleepy Nara Shikamaru.

And Sakura squeaked out a giggle.

Scratching his broom-like dark chestnut hair, he groaned. "Troublesome."

"Good aim there, Lady Uzumaki!" Ino hollered to the flabbergasted bride. "Now we have to catch that clumsy toss from the idiot—"

"Oh no, you don't! That garter belongs to me."

"It's mine! She borrowed it from me!"

"The garter?" Neji inquired Tenten, who was holding the blue fringe with a smirk as she gave it to a Naruto who was roaring out in hilarity.

"We give the garter to the rabid girls, then." Tenten grinned in reply, quite entertained with this unexpected occurrence.

The ever zealous Press Secretary, Maito Gai, was roving all around the place. Lee, Gai's overenthusiastic cameraman was flashing pictures and directing the video sets in every corner, capturing every detail of the celebration. With the unquenchable fire to produce a well-documented recording of the nuptial event, there was no censorship to the furious (embarrassing) catfight that had almost ensued on the floor.

"Time for the cake!" called by the surprisingly perceptive Naruto, knowing that the distraction was in order.

Naruto grabbed Hinata's hand and the silver cutter as they proceeded towards the towering, five-layered wedding cake. Bread layers, frosted with clotted sweet cream and glazed honey, were topped haphazardly with realistic candy orchids, colorful sliced kiwis and large berries.

The cake was sliced, both of them exchanged a morsel of the cake and the earlier commotion was reduced to collective sighs from the guests.

Glasses were then tapped with every silver cutlery; bell-like tinkling filled the premises.

This prompted the giddy, newly-wed groom to promptly give a kiss on Uzumaki Hinata's flushed cheeks.

"One more ki—?" Naruto wiggled his flaxen eyebrows in mischief to the cheering audience.

A murky, mutinous, foreboding cloud hovered over the nearby table occupied by white-eyed relatives, which dampened the attempt to smooch the bride again.

This impelled the servants to start distributing the needed drinks for the toast.

"Milady?"

Sakura, slanting her head to an elegant angle, turned to the gloved hand that offered her a filled champagne glass.

Knowing that it is rude for the highest ranking lady or man to refuse a drink in such premises, she couldn't decline the offer.

She was about to reluctantly take the flute glass when a hand suddenly took the beverage from her grasp.

"Milord!" Sakura glanced at Sasuke, who had already turned to the startled servant.

"Water."

"Ye-yes, Mi-Milord." The poor servant stuttered as he was subjected to the infamous Uchiha's impatient temper.

The guy nearly tripped on his feet as he strode away hurriedly.

"Sasuke," The only temper able to stubbornly match the Overlord flared. "That was rude."

He paused on raising the drink to his lips for a taste.

"You shouldn't order them around like that." She fully turned to him with a frown.

"Keh."

"There you go aga—" Sakura nearly spluttered out in awe. "Wait, that's a new word!"

Her husband merely ignored her as he settled the glass on the table, grimaced and looked at a different direction.

"...annoying." Her ears prickled at the indistinctly murmured word.

"What?" Obviously nettled, the infuriated Sakura was about to irritate him further when the scrumptious plate of peaches, mango, berries and cheesecake was laid in front of her. They were showered with a delicate layer of finely-powdered sugar, and then a clout of cream and white cheese layers outlined the graham crackers.

"Finally!"

The four other people, who were expecting her to unleash fury earlier to her surly husband, were a little scared at the sudden shift of mood.

"I was waiting for dessert." Sakura grinned impishly as she took the glinting silver fork and pierced the square-cut melon piece. Chewing it with much gusto, the pink-haired lady was happily oblivious to the disbelieving stares.

"Her mood swings—" The eldest (looking) person in their table, the genius lecher Jiraiya, turned to Tsunade, who shushed him with a glare.

Mikoto seemed to be enlightened with something while observing the younger Uchihas, while the Fugaku seemed to critically gaze at the couple, a trace of empathy for the young lord.

Unfortunately, the two of them were not paying any heed to their spectators as they continued to squabble.

Sasuke, obviously displeased with how Sakura ate her cake too quickly, chastised softly.

"Slowly."

Sakura really didn't care if he was so cranky tonight, though.

"I am eating slowly, Milord."

He handed the goblet of iced water to her.

"Don't talk."

She snatched the drink and sipped at its rim delicately as she nodded.

A muffled squeak of mirth made them both look at the source with incredulity.

The Uchiha Matriarch was covering her mouth as she tried to suppress her laughter as the Uchiha Clan Head, though he appeared stern and exasperated, was quelling the urge to smile as his mouth twitched.

It was not everyday that you see your unshakable son candidly talk in a mundane diatribe, no matter how short his answers were.

The cake slices were distributed, but only the Lady of Nippon-koku enjoyed her piece. Sasuke pushed his dessert aside, his dislike for sweets being noticeable while Lady Tsunade was more inclined to intoxicate herself with some rice wine than to eat sweets. As both of the Uchiha elders were now required to mingle with the other invited guests and the council member Jiraiya chose to chase some females instead so three more cheesecakes were left untouched.

"Well, since nobody would eat their share of the cake, it's better if we give it to the most unfortunate ones." Tsunade sighed, raising a hand to call for another servant.

"And those unfortunate ones would be?" Sakura managed to ask after her fifth swallow.

"These are for my slaves at the hospital."

"Oh." With a twirl of her silverware, Sakura had separated that delectable piece of cherry, then popped it on her mouth. "You still work this late?"

"I need to check up on those bungling interns." Another nervous attendee approached their table tentatively. "They probably thought I'm going to skip on the rounds, and so they'll lax off."

Sakura finally ate the last succulent berry from her own dish, the fork still raised.

"Um, Grandma," Sakura puckered, convincingly wheedling. "I'll eat Sasuke's share too."

Sasuke glowered as Sakura's hand inched towards his plate.

"Sakura."

She ignored that warning tone, her fingers finally grasping the end of the expensive china and dragging it towards her side.

"Don't eat too much."

"She's supposed to gain weight, Milord." Tsunade managed to suppress her smile, the full plates were now being placed upon the push cart to be taken, sealed in a fancy plastic container and be delivered as a treat for her workers.

"See?" Sakura said, as she then childishly stuck out her tongue. "It's a doctor's order."

"Cravings." Tsunade apologetically explained to the husband, then turned to the wife with a grin. "But Milady, you know he's right."

"Yes, not too many sweets, I know."

She popped another fleshy, syrupy peach piece on her mouth from Sasuke's undisturbed dessert.

This made their very impatient ruler snap.

"Take it."

Lord Uchiha then plopped the plate of cake to the hands of the bewildered servant who was about to leave with his cart.

"You-!" The resentment from Sakura's tone alarmed the table's occupants in apprehension. "Fine."

Then she swerved her strawberry-shaded head towards the retreating waiter.

"Bring me some ice cream." A furious aura spiked beside Sakura, which only made her more demanding. "A mango sherbet!"

"Ye-yes, Milady."

Sasuke was about to fiercely cancel the request but Sakura opened her mouth first, tone in mock petulance.

"I know, I know, but Sasuke, if you can't—"

Their arguments were again interrupted when the master of ceremonies on the podium gesticulated to their table.

"May I ask the groom's best man to stand up and give his regards to the newlywe—?"

Naruto, who was currently siphoning the last of his main meal (Super-Duper Bowl of Special Seafood Miso Ramen!), suddenly grinned up mischievously.

"No." was the daunting response from the best man, made the host cower.

But it was already too late because that provoked the official media personality to excitedly shove the faint-hearted man aside, with a whoop of "Dynamic entry!" and a roundhouse kick. The microphone flew out of the grasp of the pitiful emcee, but was expertly caught by the glimmering male in his thirties.

Then Maito Gai took a deep, noisy breath and proclaimed, with a spectacle of confetti, gold glitter and fireworks bursting into life.

"We plea to the champion of virtue, the brilliant jewel of youth, from whom the blessing of love had preserved!"

The stage wobbled with his exuberant, overreacting hand waving and fist thrusting on the air.

"For the greatest and wise rulers of our country, please, proceed to speak!"

Lee genuflected vivaciously in front of their table, where Tsunade's seat was mysteriously empty, as he added in the adulation. "Impart the lessons you garnered from your successful marriage with the ever blossoming Lady Uchiha, our fabulous Overlord!"

Then his faithful camcorder zoomed onto Sasuke's deadly homicidal expression.

Every recording device followed his example, as they exactly moved at the same time to flash and whirr their cameras to the irked honorable guest.

"Well, our dashing Leader?" Gai, pleased with the litany of praises, gave a manly thumbs-up. "Didn't that introduction flawlessly described your unsurpassed spring of prominence?"

Sakura winced as the heartburn scalded her chest insides, as those thin lines of vexation on her husband's forehead deepened.

"I'm sure that would've greatly inflated his ego." A lopsided grin from a certain (you're dead.) young, blonde man widened in sheer anticipation as Tenten and Neji dragged the two enthusiastic morons out of their recent high. "Make it good, you bastard!"

Then Uchiha Sasuke stood up.

And the spirited crowd was brought into an abrupt silence.

"For the Lieutenant and Lady Uzumaki," He was mercifully calm; the baritone was clear yet subdued. "Congratulations."

Sakura had known her husband for three years, and personally, she comprehended that he really didn't like to give speeches. So she wasn't really surprised when Sasuke opted to sit after that short, precise statement.

But he suddenly halted on picking up his glass for a toast, because he caught Naruto's warning glare. He became aware of the audience's expecting faces and her incredulous yet eager expression.

Then she realized, as he took note of his lips twitching in irritation, that "—a tongue-lashing" was going to happen, just as a drunk Kakashi predicted.

The Overlord cleared his throat, and slid his hands on his pockets. There was something acerbic in the tone of his voice which warned Sakura of an imminent fist fight that could possibly erupt tonight. He instantly straightened his spine and spoke in a modulated, authoritative voice.

"Above everything else, I commend my well-wishes to the prosperity of the Hyuuga House."

The accord of stillness was unsettling.

"They did well to keep the ceremony in order. Of course," The derision in his words was very perceptible "I won't blame them for the irrationality of having an evening wedding outside during winter."

Sakura sighed. She knew that Sasuke would criticize that fact, as he was obviously (silently) upset about her situation.

"Or hold the chef at fault for having no variety of the provided meals."

Everyone understood why he complained: There were no tomatoes served for dinner.

"Or having assorted types of ramen in the menu served for this occasion."

People rolled their eyes at that comment.

"I won't hold anyone responsible for those stupid arrangements except the Lieutenant."

There were many people who agreed with this, including the guards who stood near the entrance and did not eat the entire night.

"But all of you here will have to agree," Sasuke amended with a serious nod. "that Uzumaki Naruto, is a great man."

Everyone looked appalled—which was an understatement— by this declaration. (The alcohol was probably speaking for him, they ghastly thought.) The said, praised man choked on a noodle strand as Hinata pounded her husband's scapula in response. After dislodging the obstructing food, he wiped the broth from his mouth with a sweep of the sleeve of his tux and grinned cheekily.

"Because he's the only man capable of making everyone around him seem intellectually gifted," Sasuke stoically added. "when compared to his genuine idiocy."

"Hey!"

"Considering the years it took him to ask for Lady Hinata's hand."

"How would I know she liked me?"

"Clumsy."

"I am NOT."

"Short."

"By a few inches!"

"Noisy."

There was a murmur of agreement as Naruto protested. "WHO'S NOISY?"

"And a pest."

There was a loud, hilarious, roaring laughter that swept through the multitude of formally dressed company.

"However," He continued bluntly. "He is reliable."

"I AM NOT—What?" Naruto blinked, blushed then abashedly scratched his head. "Oh, of course, I am, I am. Heh!"

Then Sasuke thoughtfully grimaced. "To some point."

"I am always reliable!" Naruto objected. "I kept your freaking secrets! Your fantasies— "

"Because" He gave Naruto a pointed, glowering look to shut him up. "I trust him."

Everyone cannot contain themselves from grinning in warmth. Naruto was trying hard not to cry (ridiculously).

"And when you become the godfather of my child, you imbecile." Sasuke certainly saw Neji, standing at the back of the platform, sullen behind the blonde. The Hyuuga assistant was obviously one of those who stubbornly opposed the idea of having the chosen male consort for Hinata to wear an opulent, eye-damaging tuxedo, made up of eighteen-karat gold threads. "I will have that suit of yours banned."

"That is, if you can even produce a kid, you prudish, impotent bastard." Naruto grumbled as he clenched his knuckles. "I'll have the first one, just you wait!"

Each fidgeting person seemed to have felt that the two men, the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, were staring each other with figurative igniting angry sparks flying off.

"Hn." And this prompted the dark-haired lord to take the champagne flute from the table, smugly raised it, and sipped it without any much ado. "We'll see about that."

This reply truly mystified the crowd. The insightful females, like Ino, gave a pensive pout, trying to grasp some important idea.

"Yeah." The blonde groom merely took that as a challenge, as he also raised his glass in answer. "We'll see."

As the guests now stood up to join in the toast, Sasuke felt someone tugging on his sleeve cuffs

Inclining his glance towards Sakura, he noted her unhealthy pale expression.

"Bathroom break." She mortifyingly ducked her head.

Sasuke motioned to walk beside her as she stood carefully.

"No, no, stay here." Neji was coming towards them with his beeper at hand, knowing that no matter how Sasuke tried to avoid his work, it would always come to get him sooner or later. "I'll be on our rooms, okay? I'll take—"

"Juugo is already at the doors."

With a soft beaming smile, Sakura replied. "See you later."

And she retreated, passing through the hallways that led to the main palace. x Sakura was not feeling well.

The almost transparent mint-shaded muslin was fluttering on the edges of her calves, as she stood before the glass sink. Wet, cold hands were gripping the metal-plated edges, as she tried not to heave the rest of her dinner, fighting of the nasty bout of her hurling stomach. She had already prepared herself to go to sleep, having skipped the rest of the celebration because of the onset of queasiness ever since dinner.

And that disturbing detail that she already vomited about four times since she had left the reception was making her uneasy.

A singular, huge, elegant crystal chandelier lit the exquisitely-made hexagonal private bathroom of the Uchiha chambers. They created tiny prism-like shadows over the infinite stretch of the glossy white marble floor, its trinkets of broadly-cut crystals glimmering from the faux wax light. Roughly cut black and white stone bricks were alternately cemented together to form its eight walls, while rectangular fluorescent lights encased in solid, foggy panes shone their radiance on every corner of the room.

Across the middle of the room and beside the entrance was the extraordinary colossal brick wall divider. It was made up of the rough stone bricks of alternating monochrome colors, with convoluted marble trees inside large circular holes, making it sophisticatedly different from the usual screens used for a quick glance.

The half of the room was taken by a beautiful tub. It was made from the glossiest midnight marble ever to be found, crafted into a shape of a gargantuan elliptical bowl with comfortable seats at its sides. Footstools made of rough agate were at its outside base, a complicated arrangement of shades of stairs till the pedestals became as pallid as marble. Large knobs and faucets were lined against its wall, along the scented candles and condiments that were provided at the containers. Towels were hung on the steel bars along with two robes suspended on the hooks.

On the other side of the room was three circular mirrors, lined with ivory frames upon its circumference, that were facing her as she leaned over their well-matched pyrex-made sinks, unbreakable glass concave bowls, on top of a silver closet in between two lacquered mahogany containers. A contemporary Asian theme was applied to the setting of the spacious bathroom interiors, creating a peculiar sense of balance and aesthetics.

Spouting out the last remnants of the taste of bile out of her mouth, she finally turned the knob to a close. It reduced the flow of water to a diminishing dribble, the sink devoid of any the gastric contents that burned her insides. The acrid odor was diminished, as the aromatic scents of the candles obscured its pungency.

As she was wiping her lips with a paper towel, she mused about waiting for him before she resigned to sleep—

"Sakura."

—which was needless to do anyway.

Two ink-black eyes stared at her from the reflecting mirrors, a shoulder leaning against the frame of the mosaic glass door.

"Sasuke." She tried not to rasp in greeting, putting on a ready smile. "You're early. The party is still—"

"I'm going for awhile." He curtly intoned, a line of exasperation making its way to his expression.

"Eh?"

"You're not going anywhere in the morning."

"Hey!" She suddenly exclaimed, her eyes wide. Turning a swift heel, she placed her hands over the sides of her waist in irritation. "Aren't you going too far with the—"

Suddenly he was standing in front of her fazed countenance; moving so offhandedly, as if it was already deeply rooted in him to move like a silent predator. Then he placed a hand over the crown of her head, gently messing up the tumble of gently bright rose tresses from her clumsily made ponytail.

"Go to sleep."

"It's always way past my bed time for you." Then she encompassed the berth of his torso with an awkward hug

As always when irritated, Sasuke would prefer silence instead of a raucous protest.

"Okay." Then she snuggled her forehead on the soft skin of his chest, trying to prod him further to the brink of his patience. "And it's only because you're cuddly."

A faint growl reverberated underneath his scapulae, which her damp temple felt.

"Um," A lone green eye peered to an irate glare. "You were going somewhere, right?"

"Emergency."

"Emergency?"

There was that odd flicker she had almost missed. "Itachi."

"Oh." Then Sakura scrunched her nose in anxiety, trying hard not to breathe through her mouth. "Is that why he wasn't at the wedding?"

"Probably."

She became aware of his stray, rough thumb stroking the frame of her chin, the apex of his nose not quite brushing the edge of her cheek. Like it was natural, and it seemed that he was not even aware of those small movements. It was sidetracking her resolution to bring up the very significant matter they had to discuss since he snuck up on her beside the fountain.

"Sasuke, I—"

He was stationary at his spot, unmoving, as if he was expecting something from the gentle whisper.

Tell him.

"—nothing."

She lowered her ensnaring arms from the tangle it made behind his nape, trying to dispel the sudden intimacy.

"Forget it." Shaking her head to dismiss her attempt in confessing, she conceded to a compromise instead. "I'll tell you if you come back."

"Tomorrow afternoon." He pressed, asserting that the subject will not be dropped.

"Alright." It was reassuring that there would be many tomorrows after this.

His hand flitted reverently over the unseen, unyielding bulge that resided under her umbilicus.

"Rest."

He exhaled the word, almost undecipherable if it weren't for the close proximity of his mouth to her right earlobe.

And with a gentle, unexpected almost brush of his lips against her forehead, that simple affectionate gesture made the slight pressure from her belly a little easier. x Clammy flesh drenched in the coldest sweat woke her up. Restlessly, she turned, crumpling the covers as the nausea worsened. A throbbing dizziness pulsed through her nape, broadening their extent to the base of her skull, her chattering mandible, her temples. It was getting unpleasant, her burning insides churning her dinner towards her windpipe, but she repeatedly tried to push the dissolved contents to the back of her throat even though she was lying down.

Then she found it harder to—

She violently hacked for air, gagging as her hands flew to her constricting neck.

In the midst of tangled dark sheets, she felt the scrapings of a crusted, uncomfortable feeling beneath her lower limbs.

Then it all tumbled down: Contractions suddenly radiated the rear of her waist, spreading wildly towards her abdomen, slowly increasing as she moved.

Then she felt a warm, slick trickling down her thighs, while her sight danced with white-hot flaming spots of pain.

"No."

And the last thing she saw before she succumbed to the despotic oblivion was dark pooling on the drenched sheets and the crimson earthly stain on her clothes.

[tomatolapdance]

volume three : waking up [1/4]

The gravel crackled beneath the rolling tires, breaking the silence.

Deliberately, she rose from her seat & pulled the hood over the short bob of her pink hair. When she reached the end of the bus steps, she flexes her back forward into a small, courteous bow to the middle-aged driver.

Thank you.

The action earns no response, when the doors slide open & she makes her way to the powdered-speckled ground.

A swarm of people, sluggish in their bustling march as they went down from the transit vehicle, made a cacophonous music of footsteps against metal stairs. They cautiously avoided her, as if they felt the draft her presence brought, till the crowd dwindled into lesser numbers.

Finally, the bus departed, leaving her alone in a night cast in mist.

She went on with ingrained grace. Her downcast teal eyes were afraid to acknowledge the starless horizon, gaze following a cold trail. Squinting, she adjusts her eyesight to the scanty amount of light. Painted, steel lamps lit her path, gnarling the shadows behind her hollow footsteps.

Unable to endure the sight of the bleak pavement any longer, she raises her head and sees that both the sky and earth blurs.

Fluttering flakes fly, swirling freely with the southern breeze. She waited for the frozen snow-tears, but her palms were clear, the wind whipping unable to lay a snowdrop upon her. A laugh escapes , knowing that she will never feel the cold even if they fall upon her insensitive touch.

Seconds after her meandering pace, Haruno Sakura—for the first and the last time— stands before the place where her bereaving four years can finally end, to take its well-deserved rest.

And she drifts, like the descent of crystallized tears from a dimming dusk, towards to the remains of her former life lingers.

"Mi-Milady?"

"Don't move too much."

Her words were gently chiding.

"But, this is not-"

"Just stay put and let me make you irresistible for that idiot, okay?"

Rouge-covered cheeks further colored at the insinuation.

The tortoise shell ornament glinted as it swam on the waves of slightly damp midnight hair.

"You don't have to do this, Milady."

"I'm the one who's always bullied around to wear things! So let me do the bullying for once, alright?"

This time, the voice was teasing, but it had a soothing effect to the nervous bride, as slender fingers gathered & twisted the silky purple-black locks at the back of the female's head. Then she stuck the sharp pin at the top of the bun, creating an elegant chignon.

"That'll make your hair stay there for a while."

Taut & exposed, talc-covered shoulders relaxed as nimble hands finished their task.

"At least, until tonight."

The bride's flustering sent the Mistress of Nippon-koku laughing.

Lady Uchiha's subject sat upon the stool, fidgeting & darting her eyes from one floor tile to another. Quartz-hued irises beseechingly sought her olive ones, attempting to convey her discomfort.

Yet even if Hinata failed to conceal her anxiety, she was still simply exquisite: embroidered sleeves hung from the edges of the sweetheart neckline on its clean straight gossamer-white bodice, divinely embracing her lithe form. It rippled from her torso in a glaze of cream silk, following her slightest movement with a flutter of shimmering fabric.

The excited pink-haired woman noted the faraway look on her friend's expression. Following the entranced gaze, her eyes locked upon the beautiful expanse of the lawns with their splendor not even dampened by the empty, outstretched lumbering oak branches.

The Hyuuga compound in the Palace was adorned with unlit, paper lanterns decorated with small flames and swirl-patterned fabrics, laced with stretches of eye-watering bright yellow linings. Within the center of the area, a huge cream marquee was dappled with fading amber sunset rays, bathing the crumbling five-meter brick roads that lead towards their position. It was a furnished gazebo, with broad golden draperies in each corner to serve as a tent for the females.

The dead last really had a streak for lucky things. How come he had a clear sky on winter? It seemed impossible.

"I-I-" Trying not to stutter too much, the timid woman thanked her. "I am really grateful for your help, Milady."

Sakura merely replied with a smile, its radiance only second to the bride's bliss.

The evening gown flowed simply as Lady Uchiha walked. Irregular tinges of deep-lavender, off-white printed fabrics suavely floated from the navy sash on her midriff until it trailed along the tiled floor. The bow embellished the empire curved waist, reaching towards the back of her low bare, curved back. Moving closer to her charge, she kindly brushed the dark lilac bangs on Hinata's forehead.

"Don't be nervous. It shows on your face." Then Sakura pinched a colored cheek to snap Hinata out of her daze. "Right now, feel like a queen."

"Hey!" A cackling blonde maidservant slid the thick door panels with unnecessary force. "That's my line!"

Ino briskly paced towards the pair & placed the items on the nearby table. Hastily, Sakura collected a bunch of thin silver pins & beige satin bands.

They bickered back & forth as they adorned the anxious lady in white with the final touches.

"You're almost late." Sakura shot a quick glare to the blonde, before inserting pins on the sides of the arranged bun.

Ino merely ignored the remark and uncovered the small, dark jewelry box. "I had a hard time getting these, Milady."

"Eh?"

"It's very old." Gingerly, she picked a twin of moon-pearl earrings, their surfaces gleaming. Stooping a little to reach Hinata's ear-level, Ino carefully inserted the pale golden hooks to the tiny earholes. "Lady Tsunade said it came from the idiot's mother."

"Perfect." Sakura agreed while being preoccupied in settling two, large Easter lilies on the sides of the elegantly coiffed-up hair.

The attractive, snow-like blossoms were anchored by creamy satin ribbons, complimenting the glossy, coiled ebony locks. Soft ribbons were then fastened upon the base corners of the bun, and were left to hang freely from Hinata's head.

"We're all done." Ino chirped out as she patted the flushed cheeks and assisted Hinata to stand on her white crystalline shoes. "You look lovely!"

"It should be, Ino. Brides are the most beautiful creatures—"

"In weddings. Yeah, you still remember that?" Ino quipped to finish the sentence, crooking a smile on her face.

"Of course, I remember!"

She remembers.

"It changes a woman's life more than you can imagine."

Everything.

Then something bizarre happened: Hinata and Ino glanced at each other, nodded briefly and then turned to her.

Sakura blinked as the two women blatantly looked at her with suspicion.

"Er...what?"

Suddenly becoming self-conscious, she tucked a rebellious pink lock away from her face.

Then Ino grinned; a maniacal, devilish and scheming grin.

"Is there something going on, Milady?"

Sakura gathered the veil and started to fan out the filmy, elongated fabric in front of Hinata's curious expression.

"Going on?" Her ladyship replied, pokerfaced.

A tilting voice responded behind her. "Even Neji was wondering about it."

The young mistress inclined an inch to see her female secretary crossing her arms as she approached the entrance.

"About what, Tenten?"

"It's very obvious to everyone, Milady." Her conniving smirk mirrored Ino's grin.

"You're supposed to be restraining Neji from-" Sakura frowned, her brows scrunching up in confusion.

"It's not my job to handle a very, very hyperactive groom." Rolling her eyes at the mere idea of confronting that type of situation, the female assistant snorted. She turned off the lapel to avoid being heard by the males at the other side. "The brother-in-law deals with that matter more efficiently than any other methods."

"But, if he loses his control and—"

"Neji knows not to punch the moron's face today, Milady." Tenten cut off. "End of the discussion."

"You're not going to get out of this one easily." Ino then cricked her neck at their strawberry-haired mistress. "So please do go back to the subject, Milady."

This place was really filled with nosy, gossip-hungry females.

"What subject?" Sakura hid herself behind Hinata, trying to evade those unrelenting stares.

"The rumors that the Overlord," Ino emphasized. "is being domesticated."

"Domesticated?" A mortifying blush burned her cheeks. "Aren't you overreacting to-""

"He hardly leaves the palace anymore." Hinata spoke gently from her perch.

After that, Tenten confided sheepishly. "He decreed, Milady, to cancel most of your late-night appointments & overseas engagements."

"What?"

Tenten's citrine gaze blended with amusement at the stifled groan from Sakura's irritated huff.

"He's losing that trademark, pretty scowl too." Ino thoughtfully noted the more puzzling occurrences. "He still has those mood swings, but he's a little bit—"

"—happy." Tenten ended lamely.

"So what if he's happy?" Sakura skeptically asked as she took interest of the well-sewn golden fringes. "End of the world?"

"We're not dumb, Lady Uchiha." Ino rebuked at the dubious comment. "It's hardly a coincidence that both of you are..."

Sakura, against her better judgment, waited patiently.

"What's that word again?" Snapping her fingers, the blonde clucked her tongue and pointed out her index finger. "Ah, glowing!"

(An image of her husband gleaming like the Palace's official photographer flashed in front Inner Sakura's eye.)

"Glowing?" Lady Uchiha nearly squawked at the suffix. "Like what? We sparkle?"

(Uchiha Sasuke, Inner Sakura wickedly added, sparkles, you know.)

"You do not sparkle! I sparkle." The blonde asserted and then circled her hand on the air to emphasize something. "It's glow! Glow!"

"Um, yes, both of you really," Hinata fixated her gaze anywhere that wasn't murderously glaring back. "Glow, Milady."

"I still don't understand what you're talking about." Sakura placed a hand on her aching brow. "Can you please explain?"

"If I were Lee," Tenten placed a hand over her chest. "I'll be saying that you two glow like fireflies in summer."

"Radiate like gentle sea sunsets, evening starlight, lovers in love—" Ino further rambled about cloying romantic imagery.

"Please," Sakura scooted away from the babbling woman as far as possible. "Stop the arm-flailing and awful metaphors."

Ino dropped her gleefully animated arms. "I was thinking about calling Karin here to make you confess."

"Karin? What does she have to do—"

Ino took a step forward to avoid any loose spaces for her to scamper out.

"She's had closely monitored all of those glorious changes, Milady."

Tenten took a step to barricade the exit.

"Our unwilling spy gave us very specific details. She even said that Lord Uchiha is becoming cuddlier."

Hinata looked terrified at that single notion.

"Or we can let Lady Tsunade join in the fun."

They became aware that Sakura's back leveled at the mention of the name.

That encouraged Tenten to egg on their mistress.

"I bet she's on this. She had been avoiding us recently."

"Oooh yeah, I mean, she solely manages your wardrobe since last week!" Ino blurted out, and then finally asked the question. "So what's the big secret?"

Sakura noticed that they were already blocking any chances of escape. The cornered woman, impressed at this strategic form of inquiry, was about to fend them off with a ready fib when a familiar shrill sound—

"Lady Uchiha?" Hinata, who thought that her clouded beryl eyes were from the current interrogation, beamed a smile as an offer of escape. "Is that your phone?"

—jolted her mind, her breath, her heart, her entirety into a standstill.

"Milady?"

Her lower limbs were trembling, but she was still standing.

Good.

Regulating her heaving chest to normal, Sakura tried not to hyperventilate.

"...Yes. Would you mind? I'm going to answer it outside."

Schooling her features to the same bright facade, the two inquisitive women wryly eyed her with suspicion.

"Save your questions." The smile that curled her lips remained, but the curve dropped a few millimeters. "I'll answer them later, I promise."

Get out.

"The procession is going to start in a few minutes, Milady." Behind her, Tenten, already defeated, sidestepped from the entrance, ready to let her through.

It rang again.

Now.

"I'll be there on time."

Not waiting for any response, she quickly grasped the small little (cursed? blessed?) object out of her purse and composedly pushed aside the glass doors to walk towards the awaiting empty stone-cobbled passage.

x

An anxious urgency snaked its hold throughout her body, prompting her to almost break into a run, as she gripped the phone like it was the only thing that held her together.

She set a brisk pace towards the gushing fountain, assuming it was secure enough not to be overheard. Besides, the noise coming from the streaming jets of water would mask her soft spoken answers.

Raising the gadget near her face, she glanced at the object with such disturbing calmness.

The wind seemed to agree with her and quieted down as the horizon blended to indigo.

Focusing only on the throb of her aching feet, Sakura tried to listen calmly to the beckoning rings. They orchestrated into something like a peculiar somber dirge.

Oddly enough, it strengthened her resolution.

She had always been living in a dream.

But everyone, even insane people, never stayed in the state of unreality for far too long.

No dream remains undisturbed.

They always wake up.

It was time to just really open her eyes.

There was no use in refusing to finish this charade.

It was already at its limit.

So, she flipped the phone open.

The ringing stopped.

She numbly pressed the buttons as the screen flashed the current hour.

(17:52, it blared.)

The passage of air through her nasals was clearly heard through the receiver as she placed it against her ear.

"Are you alone?"

The masked voice that she hadn't heard for thirty six months—counted and waited the passage of time—greeted her.

I will grant you your freedom.

From the very beginning, Sakura had always been imprisoned. It did not matter if it was within the confines of a simple dormitory room, a life of bogus normalcy or the pillars of an extravagant house, a life of a revered pawn. She was a puppet, an artificial existence to any sides, serving an advantageous purpose to both lines.

She had wished for her liberty like all beautiful fowls that were kept in captivity.

It all became clear. Her choice.

"The deal is off."

Unexpectedly, there was laughter.

She remained silent.

He stopped chuckling mirthlessly.

"Lady Uchiha." Her title were drawled out coldly. "You gave me your word."

"Screw it." She hissed behind her teeth, her resolve strengthening as she continued to speak.

There was a sinister undertone even when she could sense that he was grinning behind the line. "Very unprofessional, sleeper."

Flinching at the blunt words, the truth reminded her of what she truly was.

Sleeper agents: Spies hidden within the presence of targets, to gain trust, to remain guarded and gather as much information while being inactive.

Sakura was trained to kill at one simple call.

Was.

"Do it yourself. You nearly succeeded last June."

"Oh, you figured it out?"

"Who else would send people who were that capable to get pass through unnoticed in public?" With a steadfast hold to her ground, she barreled on without any pause. "I answered this call just to say that you are a bloody asshole, sir."

The vulgarity was satisfying, leaving a tangy taste melting in her mouth.

"I don't need you or your fucking freedom."

Or anything else for that matter.

Because the thing that she wanted the most, aside from freedom, was this life.

This was not a lie. This was the most real thing that had happened to her, and she was not going to endanger it.

For once, there was a sudden buzzing that deafened her ears, blood rushing too swiftly on dilated vessels in anticipation.

"You can never get rid of me." The looming, distorted voice crackled. "Suffer the conseq—"

"Bring it on."

She snapped the phone shut.

As her distraught eyes caught the distorted surface of currents—without any hesitation, with all her strength—she threw the phone to the cascading waters.

The glass-like surface broke, creating ripples as it sunk quickly, drowning the object to the depths of the ceramic basin. It submerged quickly, painlessly, like the oxygen that was dangerously near to combust in her lungs suddenly cooled into mist.

The thorns stuck severely inside, for years, in her chest, was pulled out.

The bowed instruments from the orchestra were tuning, then Sakura craned her head towards the grandly decorated arches on a distance where different guests started to convene, entering the provided gargantuan, thin marquee. With her sharp vision, she saw a bright flaxen head, pacing back and forth nervously.

The processional march was going to start any moment.

"Crap!" Ruby-glazed lips blurted out, almost forgetting that she was going to walk on the aisle any minute. Swiftly, she spun on her heel, feet already prepared to fly from the ground in haste.

Indeed. Her alter ego muttered with a slap to her wide forehead.

The moment she turned, her widened eyes could not believe that she met Sasuke's gaze.

He stood in the middle of the aging path as breezes blew on the stray, withered leaves.

The first instinct was to recoil & retreat, but she was unable to move. Her befuddled brain then began to think of unpleasant speculations, as she calmly (as her panic-stricken inner self would allow) tried to deduce how long was he standing behind me?.

Yet her curious stare paled in comparison to his intense scrutiny.

He couldn't have been here for a long time. Sakura tried to convince herself. Because she would have been clearly aware of him, would have known if he was behind her all along. It was not possible for someone to have that kind of stealth, to surpass her senses. I would feel him... Right?

You compared him to your own shadow once, Sakura. Her mind jabbered with a witty retort. His presence is too familiar for you to be aware of so quickly.

And he was still staring at her, as if with the force of his will alone, he could read the inner workings of her thoughts. Afraid that he might discover what was making her increasingly paranoid, she obstinately avoided to meet his searching gaze.

Then it registered from her quiet observation that Sasuke wasn't currently in his best appearance.

His hair was tousled, untamed, as if his hair was suddenly whipped with a sudden gust of wind from a swift run. Yet, other than the certain stiffness that marred his usual looping grace, he was still refined as ever.

He's hopeless.

Sighing helplessly, she carefully walked towards his towering form. Unperturbed with that grimace that deepened at her approach, her slender fingers reached.

His jaw clenched.

Skilled hands settled upon the rigid-winged collar, her concentration fixed at the absence of a cream bow-tie that usually adorned this type of formal wear.

"Your tie?" She breathed, trying hard not to think as he stifled that capability at this proximity.

A strip of milk-white silk cloth was smoothly shoved to her palms.

"You should have fixed yourself." She spoke calmly as she wounded the tie around his neck.

Cross the two ends with the left overlapping the right. Pull the left end upward beneath the strip.

"You were gone." He spoke impassively as he remained unmoving.

Fold the right end of the ribbon three times. Wrap the left band around its center.

She could hear the tinkle of bells that sang, carried by the air they take in.

"You should have waited for me to come to you then."

It's six o' clock, her mind noted. Tenten said it would start at the exact time.

"Hn."

Her hand still hovered on his neck. The tense shoulders slackened and he almost leaned to her touch. She was finished.

"There."

He was, again, impeccable. His black silk tailcoat and trousers, along with the clean cotton-pique shirt that greatly contrasted the color of his sole cerulean sash across his torso, a symbol of his authority & his connection to her as well.

And then her never-ending musings, always rambling, said it.

You chose him.

Her tenuous fingers trailed the edges of his hair, sweeping the obstinate strands away from his slate-smoky irises. Their gentle finger-pads remained on the crests of his angular cheeks, feeling the softness of his pallid skin.

And because of that, you will tell him the truth.

"I think they're looking for us."

He deserves to know who you are.

To her astonishment, his hand, surprisingly warm, enclosed on her wrist, her touch halting its ascent to his stoic face.

And what happens next? What if he rejects-

Her thoughts stopped when he turned his unreadable gaze to the colossal tent where the wedding would take place. Yet she swore that his eyes drifted to the spot where she threw the damned mobile earlier.

"I know."

The phrase meant that he was aware that they were late, but she still froze.

It was ridiculous to even think about it, but she was more inclined to believe that he knows.

Fright rose involuntarily to her instincts & the urge to speak, to break the dangerous silence, to explain, prompted her to open her mouth. Yet he quietly murmured, as dark eyes lowered..

"But it doesn't matter."

She should have rebuked him, that he was treating his best friend's wedding like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

But the serene phrase seemed to mean another thing entirely.

Her almost blurry, green eyes hesitatingly returned to his indiscernible gray irises.

For her, his reply meant that everything else just didn't matter anymore.

(It was irrationally optimistic.)

That this—their gazes, his touch, her near tears, that pulsing life—was enough.

(But this is what she chose: His offered reality. )

Afraid that her voice would shake with the unexplainable hope that brimmed in her, she broke their gaze with a meaningful whisper ("Let's go.") and a lucid smile. ("Naruto is going to kill us.")

And because nothing would ever change, (yes, nothing, nothing), he replied with a grunt.

[tomatolapdance]

year three - december : what's in a name?

(for sorceressmyr)

It was quiet & cold, as the first day of the month summoned the freezing southern gales to gently caress their naked skin. A rare, stray sheen illuminated them, creating ink ghost-silhouettes from the barren canopies outside.

(he would not dare to close his eyes, because the contentment that was filling him-)

Sasuke stared at his wife, still half-asleep, still smiling. (-might vanish instantly, be gone in his slipping grasp, like the meaning of her fragile, fleeting name.)

"Sakura."

(no.)

"Hmm?"

(for her to be taken away from him was not a possibility.)

She moved in the circle of his embrace & turned to him, eyelids still closed and her arms splayed on the covers.

(his name will never accept that.)

"Suizei."

(because he's an Uchiha. an ancient title that never bends.)

"Suizei?" She repeated in surprise, confused.

(because being Sasuke meant that he was burdened with the responsibility to protect.)

But when a casual arm, warm and freezing at the same time, wrapped her slowly growing waist-

(he would never let anyone to take this small, precious thing-)

-a heartbeat, a second, an iota of eternity later, she breathed in understanding.

(-that he grew so accustomed of, that it bordered to the point of need.)

"Oh."

(for he believed in the start, that he only had to earn her trust to avoid her suspicions)

A hand gently took the coral strands that hung on her sun-kissed cheeks and relished their softness in his fingers as he idly stared them with a soft smirk on his face.

(that he could get out of this deceit easily even when he lowered his defenses

"It's suitable for him."

(But when everything became so natural, that it was so much easy to let loose-)

She moved on the silken dark covers & giggled, as her spring green morning eyes lit up.

(-that's when he began to desire a future of smiles and bright eyes.)

"How can you be so sure, Sasuke?"

(a dream that seemed impossible from the very beginning.)

"That it's a boy?"

(he took a determined, stubborn vow over his name that he will be infalliable. that he'll do everything)

"I know."

(anything)

"You're impossible."

(to make their illusion into a reality.)

And as the well-built game of pretenses finally crumbled upon her sweet laughter, his wind burnt lips softly brushed over her forehead.

[tomatolapdance]

year three - november : & they demand nourishment!

(for epiff annie)

It was seven o' clock in the evening on November thirty when Uchiha Sasuke was suddenly disturbed by a hyperactive, loud-mouthed lieutenant, who barged inside his office uninvited.

"Let's eat something exotic tonight, bastard!"

The Overlord ignored the irritating dead-last, opting to give all his attention to his monitor.

"Come on!"

The rhythmical clacking of the keys answered the exuberant idiot.

"Sakura's in the kitchens!"

The blurring hands on the keyboard stopped.

Sakura was currently in the midst of an important decision-making : what type of broth to use. Again, she flitted around the meat stock containers in the large freezer. She already decided to cook some light soup & crackers for tonight when Naruto, who was followed by a surly, scowling Uchiha behind, demanded with a shout at the kitchen's entrance.

"Lady Uchiha, can you cook something for dinner?"

Startled, she merely replied. "Huh?"

"It's for a special occasion! Tomorrow's the official start of winter!"

"What do you want then?"

"The idiot said something about exotic," A sarcastic quip from Sasuke. "if he knows what it means."

"You bastard! Of course, I know that!" He bellowed, creating ear-splitting shouts echoing in the thick walls of the mess room. "I want a famous delicacy!"

"And that is?"

"It's-"

He whispered dramatically.

"the miso ramen!"

Both of his companions stared at him as if he mutated into a gross, booger-eating boy.

Then knowing that to force feed Naruto with something that involved green veggies & fruits would be unfeasible, Sakura accepted the task.

"I guess I have no choice."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You'll make THE ramen?"

"With the best that I can."

"You mean it?"

"Stop it, Naruto, before I shove all of the raw meat into your big mouth."

"...okay."

And Naruto, who witnessed that an infuriated Sakura could be quite scary, sat on a hard, round stool and patiently waited for the Lady of the Palace to finish gathering ingredients for ramen.

"I can't believe it's already December!" The excited groom was now talking to the disgruntled Sasuke, who took a seat across his blonde, stupid friend and was trying to hold in his patience in tethers. "I'm going to be a husband in a few days!"

"Everyone will be calling her an Uzumaki sooner or later. But Hyuuga isn't bad, though."

(Sakura waited for the explosion.)

"And then we'll be having babies."

(Because surely, this was the foreboding calm before the freaking storm.)

"And my kids will beat the crap out of you, bastard!"

It was too fast for the naked eye, but Sakura saw that small muscle in his thumb twitch

(So, she intervened.)

"Sasuke, what would you like? I can cook something else."

"It's fine." He responded, the anger diffusing unexpectedly.

"Yeah, Sasuke loves ra-"

"I can only tolerate them, you moron."

(But just in case, Sakura already picked up some fresh tomatoes from the baskets.)

x

The blond soldier was still patiently waiting on chair as Sakura started on creating the broth with some fresh chicken stock, as well some thick miso paste, now boiling in a huge silver pot.

There was only the happy simmering of the aromatic soup that accompanied the silence.

And because the Uchihas knew Naruto very well, they expected him to break it.

"I was thinking about something."

"That's a nice surprise, Naruto."

"Oh, c'mon, you're becoming like that bastard here!" Naruto glared at the cause of the evil transformation of the sweet Lady Uchiha, who merely smirked at the taunt. "I'm serious!"

"What is it, then?" She hummed as she was sliced some scallops into equal thick sheets.

"I've been thinking of baby names for my kids and because I'm going to be the godfather-"

The rhythmical thudding of the knife on the chop board came to a halt.

"-for the next generation of the Uchiha Clan, I already prepared the list of their names too!"

("But I will not agree to bear you an heir! Do I make myself perfectly clear?")

A pair of dark eyes stared at the way her spine became rigid with tension.

(It was her most brutal sentence in their wedding night.)

Her voice was lifting, though, when she responded airily with a beaming smile.

"Twenty four is still quite a young age to conceive, Naruto."

"Nah, it's enough!" Naruto answered. "Besides, you'll make a great mother, Milady."

"We'll see." A finger tapped the steel table, green eyes alight with consideration.

"No." An immediate answer came from Sasuke.

"Eh?" Sakura glanced at her husband in surprise.

"He'll name them after some stupid ramen ingredient."

"What's wrong with Shiitake? It's pretty nice!"

"On second thought," Sakura, who was earlier going to approve with Naruto's request, saw the wisdom in Sasuke's decision if she refused the gracious offer. "I think Lord Uchiha is right."

"How about Shiyo? Shouyu? I'm considerate enough to choose something near to your characters!"

"You stupid dead-last." Sasuke sardonically retorted.

"No, Naruto." Sakura giggled as she shaped the crab meat into cubes. "It isn't close enough."

"Sapporo?"

"That's a place, dumbass."

"It's the birth place of miso ramen, bastard! Do not disrespect it!"

"Really, don't try too hard." The pink-haired woman then offered some mahogany chopsticks to the ravenous males who were surely were overworked for the day. "You'll be the godfather. I'm sure, someday—

(dark eyes widened for a fraction in surprise)

"-even without the name-giving."

"And I'm going to be a lovable godfather!" And then the blonde exclaimed with his fist in the air, emphasizing his promise with a laugh. "I'll definitely spoil them, because the bastard is a control freak."

"I won't even trust you to hold a chi-"

Uchiha Sasuke was scathingly going to remark something about the idiotic blonde when he suddenly stood up, much to the astonishment of the two.

"Phone call." The man merely responded to their inquiring faces & then walked a certain distance away from the entrance to answer his phone.

But it was impertinent to provide himself with some privacy, because Naruto & Sakura were both curious, eavesdropping on the conversation as they leaned their ears against the door frame with the noodle making set aside.

"Speak." The dark-haired man greeted.

"Tsunade." He then acknowledged the other person in the line, staring at the ebony expanse of the horizon beyond the glass panel windows. "Yes. I noticed."

A pair of slate-shaded eyes glazed.

He then glanced sharply at Sakura, who only raised her pink brows incredulously.

(is that fear?)

"I understand. I'll come tomorrow with her."

(and was that a happy smile?)

But she didn't understand why Sasuke was staring at her with such fervor (tenderness) while he slid the gadget shut.

He walked to her, past a surprised wide blue-eyed blonde and grasped her wet hand.

"You are going to bed." Despite the demanding order, it was softly spoken. "Now."

"But bastard, it's only eight thirty! And she's making some ra-"

"Naruto."

And both were slightly alarmed that he didn't insult the young, golden-haired soldier with the usual barb.

"Excuse us."

And they left the perplexed dead-last, as Sasuke (carefully) led his wife to their bedroom.

[tomatolapdance]

year three - october : the call of seduction beckons thee!

(for allurement)

Sakura was brushing her teeth, looking very relaxed, humming in front of the mirror.

Then Sasuke arrived beside her, stood in front of porcelain sink and the long mirror.

Green and black eyes met, before they resumed to their own actions.

The man then grabbed his navy toothbrush & applied a bit of cinnamon toothpaste over the fine bristles, then grabbed a crystal glass to pour some rinsing water in it.

(this routine was unusual, because it was very rare for the couple to retire from their duties at the same time for the night. and now that sakura was doing her nightly rituals with sasuke in such an ordinary setting was really-)

He started to gargle without any unnecessary noise - very, very quietly and dignified.

(-really weird.)

She shook off the distracting thoughts, returned to her current task by turning her gaze to the reflecting mirror.

But because her husband was a huge distraction, she glanced at him.

And noticed his boxers.

His new (because she never had seen this before) cotton royal blue, printed boxers.

Boxers that had tomatoes designed as its patterns.

The patterned tomatoes had stately crowns over them.

"What in the world are you wearing?"

The brush was still inside her gaping, foaming mouth.

Her husband merely raised an eyebrow.

Then he reciprocated her scrutinizing gaze by staring at her nightgown.

And that was a mistake because the outfit could even hardly be called a nightgown.

A dark burgundy two-piece only covered by that black, lace-striped,  flimsy coat that barely stretched to her exposed stomach and milky thighs. A lingerie.

"And you?" His voice was tinted with accusation.

"I feel like wearing it!" She heatedly responded, with a blush that swiftly colored her pale skin. "You got a problem with this?"

Sakura was glaring while Sasuke was contemplative.

Then he spoke seriously.

"Are you seducing me?"

"No!"

They returned back to the stillness that was only broken by the silent brushing. Afterwards, both grabbed their glasses at the same time, rinsed (the female was noisily gargling the liquid over her gums while the male was silently passing the water over his mouth.) and then,settled the glasses back on the sink.

Then, because curiosity would never be satisfied till satiated, she asked.

"Were you seduced?"

Sakura placed the brush on the glass, trying her best not to look at him as she fixed her eyes at that pink tube of paste.

Then his voice, impassive, spoke.

"Should I be?"

With her rising heart rate suddenly plummeting down along with her insides, to the bottom pit of her stomach, she felt him leaving her side and going towards the exit of their bathroom. Disappointed green eyes then gazed at her downcast expression at her reflection, then sighed as lithe shoulders sagged.

"I just...hoped."

Turning her heel to leave the area, she was stunned to see him leaning with his firm, solid back on that smooth mahogany door frame.

He heard me?!

Her insides then clogged up to her ribs in surprise. This is a disaster, a careless disaster. Try to minimize the damage, quick!

"Sasu—" "What if I was..."

He turned an eye on her, gazing at her silently.

"Seduced?"

Sakura couldn't help but let that tremulous smile to gently curve her lips as she walked towards him. Halting a few inches from his daunting figure, she let her fingers hover on his delicate face. His indecipherable steel eyes became half-lidded, gradually leaning to her and grasped those fingers with his coarse, callous hand and laid them on his flat-edged crevices of his chest.

"You don't seem like it." Her faint whispered words were soft, low enough to let this silence thrive.

The fluorescent light that spilled out towards their bed chambers was not sufficient to unveil his hooded (impassioned) stare.

"You think?" His skilled fingers were idly playing on that dark velveteen ribbon that hung in the middle of her brassiere, which held the onyx-colored derringer that clung reverently over her curves.

But both could not already think, for they were already too much preoccupied as their lips hovered, nearly brushing, nearly closing that dangerous proximity.

[tomatolapdance]

year three - september : he wants? he gets.

(for strings of a puppet)

"Let's,"

Thin, glossy colored papers arched into the air, a shower of confetti perched upon every head.

"PARTY!"

The area, decorated with streamers and lit with impromptu disco lights, was utilized for the slumber party-slash-bridal shower informally held for the Hyuuga bride-to-be.

Soon enough, after all the giggling and games were done, a minus-one karaoke tune of Whitney's famous love ballad filled the entertainment room.

("AND I" sang a rambunctious Ino as she waved a finger at herself, emoting along with the song.)

"Tell me why we're stuck with uncoordinated singing females?" Sakura sighed helplessly to Hinata as she picked up the scattered snack on the soft, furry carpet they were all sitting on.

("WILL ALWAYS" Karin swooned as she followed the trombone's melody, clear spectacles gleaming.)

"Deviating from the usual formal parties can be relieving, most especially to you, Milady." Lady Hyuuga, who was rather bashful when she first met her, was now a bit confident now they got to know each other. "Besides, Lord Uchiha was invited to Naruto's bachelor's party. It is only right that I also invited you."

("LOOOVE" Tenten jumped up to steal Ino's microphone, belting out forcefully.)

"But with this? We need to open your presents."

("YOUUUH WOOH!" The chorus of an unharmonious voices rang unpleasantly on everyone's ears.)

"We both know what those gifts would be, Milady." Hinata replied with a slight flush across her face.

(And mashed notes of altos and sopranos warbled through the air, as the song finally ended.)

"Hah," Then the mistress of the Palace grinned. "But we'll still open them later."

"I don't want to sing anymore." Tenten finally plopped beside the two women.

"My vocal cords will crack any moment now." Karin flounced towards the slightly growing group.

"As if we wanted to hear it," Sakura grumbled beneath her breath as she bit off a strawberry pocky.

"Hey, let's hire some male strippers!" Ino then flounced on the girls with a predatory smile.

The candy almost blocked Sakura's airway.

"This is Lady Hinata's bridal shower!" Tenten, who finally returned back to her senses, protested adamantly. "A respected heiress of a prominent Clan!"

"The guys probably hired some hookers." Karin grumpily added as she grabbed a piece of pocky from Sakura, who was coughing to keep herself alive. "That's unfair to us."

Ino whooped. "Come on! Let's try to-"

"No." Hinata's pallid eyes were identical to Neji's unsettling glare.

"They will not even dare to hire a menopausal old hag to striptease for them." Sakura quipped, red-faced and breathing returned to normal.

"And why not?"

"Let's say I had a little talk," Lady Uchiha beamed innocently. "with Naruto."

"C'mon, you spoilsport!" The blonde's eyebrows waggled with mischief. "What they don't know wouldn't hurt them."

"But bridal showers are only for gift-giving." Sakura rebutted heatedly as she tried to reason out that this was not a good idea. "Not just to fulfill your adventurous streak, Ino. It's not traditional."

"But what would you know, Milady?" Her cornflower-bright eyes met her mistress's challenging gaze.

Then the girls fidgeted uncomfortably with the question.

"All of us are single. For example, you," she pointed to Karin. "are pining over a married man!"

(An infuriated gasp.)

"While you," she then turned to Sakura. "didn't even experience it."

(A scowl that would make any Uchiha proud.)

"While me," Ino huffed a breath. "I have conducted a fairly amount of-"

"Me." Someone spoke amusedly. "I had a bridal shower once."

Everyone turned their heads to the quiet blonde who sat cross-legged on the floor, swirling the clay cup filled with sweet sake. Her bronze eyes glittered with amused knowledge.

"I've enjoyed it too."

"You?"

The females, except Shizune (who shook her head in anxiety), were in disbelief.

"You're married?"

"Were you really married?"

"You were young once?!"

"Of course, don't be ridiculous, girls. I was engaged, not married." Tsunade replied flippantly. "But he's already dead. Anyway," the woman steered the subject away from herself to discuss the most serious topic at hand.

"Ino's suggestion is very entertaining-"

("Hah!")

"-but it's also very impractical."

("What!?")

"No one can enter the palace easily, with the way Lord Uchiha tightened the security, especially with tonight."

The blonde woman then added with a smirk.

"And besides, when your hen-pecked males find this out, I'll be hunted down to the ends of the earth because I'm the one who's responsible for you girls."

"So what are we supposed to do, Lady Tsunade?" Ino rolled her eyes in sarcasm. "Tea parties?"

"We don't bring men to dance for us." A maniacal gleam brightened the liquid amber orbs. "We watch them in action."

And, grabbing something from behind, she brought out a large box filled with expensive X-rated cases.

"So that Lady Hyuuga can surpass the idiot's capabilities. He's probably trained by Jiraiya, anyway. "

"L-La-Lady Tsunade!" .

"Perfect!" Ino then proceeded to set the player.

Sakura groaned, glaring at the woman who always had fun bossing the younger females around her.

Tsunade cackled in response.

"You wouldn't need the visual guidance I provided, Milady."

"What?"

"Lord Uchiha is an educated man, if you know what I mean."

Sakura couldn't retort back as her blood filled her cheeks, because the background sound of a sultry saxophone cut her off when the lights dimmed.

Besides, there's no point in denying the truth.

x

"Why aren't you inside the chambers? It's already very late, Milady."

"It's better to wait for Lord Uchiha with some company." Sakura, still donned in her flowing crimson negligee, and only covered with her light strawberry colored organza coat. "Besides, would you rather guard here alone in the halls?"

Both of the crimson-hued women, one with the lighter shade and the other one with a darker tone, were sitting on the couch demurely beside the open doors of the Uchiha Suite, chatting animatedly outside as they sipped over hot canned lemon teas.

"I wonder how they're doing. We had such a great time." Sakura laughed, relishing the warmth that radiated off from the aluminum.

"Knowing that shark teeth, he's probably drowning in alcohol for good riddance sake." Karin rolled her eyes as she took a long gulp from the container. "French men drink wine like water, after all."

"What?" Sakura did not bother to hide her concern. "But almost everyone lived in Francia."

"The worst thing that could happen?" Karin snorted as she responded with a glare at the unsuspecting can. "Dead-last forgetting that promise and every male are now piss-drunk after the bachelor's bash."

"I will really eradicate Uzumaki if he did-"

Then Sakura halted her banter when she heard a soft foot fall.

"They're here." The pink-haired mistress smiled as she stood up swiftly, much to the red-head's surprise, who did not even sense their presence.

Uchiha Sasuke was currently rolling his shoulders in exhaustion when he saw his wife with her thin organza robe loosened with her abrupt movement, revealing the thin wine-colored nightwear that she usually wore in her sleep.

(Casting a quick suspicious glance over his shoulder, it was good thing his two male companions didn't notice it yet.)

Before Sakura even had the second to trot towards him, Sasuke was already in front of her and seized the two swinging robe ties.

In a swift dexterity, he securely wound them around her waist.

Sakura seemed not to notice this act, as she merely planted a swift gentle peck on his cheek.

"How was it? Did Naruto do something stupid again?"

Sasuke did not consider responding amicably as he was still preoccupied with his present task.

Then the cute-button nose caught something unusual.

"Perfume."

(Was her robe becoming tighter?)

Her eyes then caught, on the pale collar of her husband, some smudged marks of a bright crimson-

"Lipstick."

Her emerald orbs hardened.

"There's lipstick all over you."

(Suigetsu stiffened in alarm.)

"What's this?"

The question was saccharine as a glutinous poisoned honey.

(Juugo was skillfully trying to keep his gaze away from his ladyship's inquiring stare.)

And because it's his duty to shield the Overlord in all possible calamities, Suigetsu(unwillingly) took the liability to be the victim of her interrogation.

"Milady! It wasn't our fault!"

The murderous young woman focused her rapt attention on him. "Go on."

"The dead-last really kept his promise! It's just he invited Lord Jiraiya! We didn't expect the women he brought with him! The next thing we know, they already draped themselves over us. It was a total accident, we swear-"

("There were hookers?!" Karin's glasses flintily sparked as she got whiff of what he was saying.)

"-it on our graves! We asked for Sir Hatake's help but he said it was a needed test of fidelity! And you know, Lord Uchiha was very praiseworthy for he glared at them and Lord Jiraiya even said that it was amazing, because there was no man in existence who could ever resist such huge, huge boo-"

"I don't need you to explain for him."

Suigetsu shut his mouth so hastily that it hurt.

The homicidal forest-hued glare turned to its full blast towards the young man who was still (really not) busy in tying the robe firmly on her waist. Even with her short height, she made the much taller guards flinch when she spoke in the most icy voice.

"Well, Milord,"

Sasuke finally stopped what he was doing and met her fearsome gaze coolly.

"Are they better than me?"

Using 'awkward silence' was an understated description for the anxiety-inducing moment.

("Give the right answer, Lord Uchiha.")

Suigetsu crossed his fingers in frightened anticipation as he muttered statements rapidly like a chant.

("We can't protect you, if you can't save yourself.")

"Hn."

("Just say that the bizarre word means, NO!")

The autocrat stoically replied with an almost contemplative frown on his face.

"You don't give lap dances."

("MILORD! Are YOU trying to kill yourseeelf?!")

"Oh."

("That's it, he's dead.")

The guard tried to rescue the young Uchiha from the grave that he dug himself into by trying to explain further.

"Milady, he was nearly gang-raped! Have mercy, Lady-"

But Suigetsu was stopped of his apprehensive rambling when Uchiha Sasuke raised an open hand to stop him from talking-

(And he could not speak even if he wanted to, along with his two baffled companions)

-because Uchiha Sakura fiercely pulled her husband's rumpled collar and overlapped her soft, tea-flavored lips to ravage their master's mouth.

When the woman paused to take a large quantity of air, she huskily breathed against his face.

"Lap dances?"

"With tomatoes." Sasuke added, looking dignified as ever, as if he wasn't even fazed with such an assault. "Dangling from their mouths."

("Hey!" Suigetsu protested. "There were no tomato-")

"Is that so?"

And Sakura, with an unanticipated prowess, grabbed him by his shirt inside the Uchiha Grand Suite.

(The three caught, before the door closed with a bang, that small triumphant, scary smirk that curved the cunning aristocrat's lips.)

"Did Lord Uchiha just tricked his wife," Suigetsu, who found it hard to glue back his unhinged jaw back to its joint, quietly said. "to give him a lap dance?"

"With tomatoes." Juugo managed to return to his post with his casual indifference.

"Yeah." Karin replied, broad-eyed and gaping.

[tomatolapdance]

year three - august : defy & deny

The clash of steel echoed distinctly in the air.

At the center of the huge glass open conservatory were two fully garbed, masked men. Their rapiers were closely hitting each other, with the shorter, more hostile fighter garbed in white breeches. The taller one, who was more careful of his movements, wore a dark apparel, the distinction of a blade master.

The white warrior lunged, the tip of his blade nearly grazing the neck of his supposed-to-be victim.

The taller one sidestepped to avoid the running attack. He was not yet cleared of an assault when the assertive man raised & beat his weapon down against the calm opponent. However, the receiver of this aggressiveness did not waver from his position because he controlled the half of his challenger's blade with a swift bind.

Frustrated, the insistent attacker then stepped back to launch a jumping attack from above.

An opening.

Then the taller figure thrust his blade on the oncoming advance with a rapid sweep on the midline of the persistent adversary.

The long, thin blade flipped out of someone's grasp from the force of the impact.

"GAH!"

And the metal-screened mask was taken off and revealed a very frustrated Uzumaki Naruto, sweaty and panting.

Light blue eyes then glared in annoyance.

"It's too hot!"

Then he pointed his gloved index finger to the opponent who stood in an imposing manner and lowered his sword tip to the ground.

"Besides, I would've wiped your ass on this stinking place if it the blade wasn't too light-"

"You suggested fencing, dead-last."

Then his enemy took off his own mask, and revealed a dark-haired young man who looked unaffected at the whining. Perspiration dotted his hairline, but other than that, he was barely worn out.

"I didn't lose yet, you bastard. You just swerved the blade out of the way!"

"Idiot." He merely responded when he walked towards the stone benches, firm foot falls scraping against the smooth granite floors.

"Oi! Oi! Why are you turning your back? I'm still talking!"

He ignored the seething blonde, taking a water bottle and wiping off the light layer of sweat from his brow as his companion did the same, though less gracefully.

"When did I ever lose to you? That rifle-shooting was a fluke in the academy, you freaking cheated in the last snowball fight, and I got engaged first!"

"Hn."

"And that was a formal engagement! I courted her perfectly without your help!"

"For two years."

"And we're going to get married this December too! And I'm going to make sure that I will top off that 'Wedding of the Century'.I'll make it more spontaneous! And many people will know that the Lord Uchiha couldn't even manage to-"

Naruto stopped rambling because he didn't feel that usual glare that burned his back.

Sasuke ought to listen to the idiot's mind numbing chatter, but he was suddenly preoccupied when his sharp eyes caught her sprinting on the paved garden paths across.

Sakura took a break underneath the cooling shade of a willow tree, a good twenty meters away from them, and was drinking from a water tumbler with anexhausted expression on her face.

Sasuke was so out of it, that he was caught of guard when the idiot's arm slung over his shoulder.

"I'll give her a ten."

(What the hell?)

"Compared to Hinata, her chest might be small in comparison,"

(Sasuke contemplated if he could get away with murder.)

"But it's unfair if I compared her to Hinata, since I think her body is absolutely proportional, even with an average bust size."

(Of course, he could. Because he's the ruler of this country and he can just say that this idiot deserved to die.)

"And because she's pretty, I'll give her a ten!"

(He has the sword, so what's stopping him to cleave that airhead from his neck?)

The patented Uchiha Glare™ was rising in varying high degrees in temperature as he glowered, yet he was still deeply attuned to the woman who was now patting the cold container on her forehead and wiped that trickle of water from her lips.

"Stop it."

"Okay then, from the scale of one to ten, ten is the highest and one as the lowest, rate your wife!"

"You moron."

"It's very rare to see her jogging in those tight cycling shorts of hers outside."

"Shut up."

"Just a number, you stiff prude, what do you think?"

But Uchiha Sasuke was not listening anymore; because he was still busy staring.

(she smiled in delight when the cooling breeze stroked her flushed face.)

"Oi, oi! Stop with the ogling. It scares me!"

He paid no heed to that incoherent blabbering.

(she was rolling her sleeves and showing those supple yet delicate arms of hers.)

"It's no use talking to you."

Sasuke was still immersed at the way Sakura cricked her neck sideways.

"Fine, I'll leave you alone. Have fun."

And to the man's relief, the noisy blonde finally left him.

(she was now bending over to return her tumblr back to the ground and started to inhale deeply, her eyes closed to the world as she entwined her fingers and stretched them over her head, lifting her tight, damp shirt to show a bit of the soft skin of her back.)

A wry grin made its way to his lips.

nine...?

(she then took off the red tie that held her hair on the crown of her head, letting them drift freely on the air. her pleased green eyes, even from a distance, glimmered like the first sun rays that gushed through rainstorms.)

"...point nine."

Because she's still-

"-annoying." He spoke quietly, not realizing that he just said his thoughts out loud.

"SO IT'S ONLY A POINT ONE DIFFERENCE!"

Then the tip of the earlier discarded sharp weapon poked his back.

"You just have to find something wrong with her, don't you?"

(note : must behead the idiot.)

Naruto jibbed in glee.

"And yes, you bastard, I heard ALL of it. Annoying? What kind of a stupid reason is that?"

(now.)

Sasuke whipped his flexible steel on the smirking blonde, cutting a few golden locks as the lieutenant lowered his head a few inches and parried his blade quickly to block the oncoming assault.

But for Naruto, the decapitation of the few strands of his elevated hair was worth it.

I win, Sasuke.