Chapter Text
Mikoto’s new home was small and lovely. A well-tended garden welcomed them with seasonal blooms and sweet smells, and if her eyes didn’t deceive her, there was a cherry tree, too, full of ripe fruits. Sakura wondered if it was just a coincidence.
Itachi’s hand found hers, and she gave a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to do this now, Itachi. You’ve had a long day.”
Sasuke remained quiet where he leaned against the car, offering neither support nor rejection of her words.
Itachi shook his head, swallowing. “I need to do this now. I’m ready. Just...Stay by me?”
“What an unreasonable demand.”
Itachi looked at her and gave her a look that made little butterflies tumble inside her. Sasuke headed up towards the front door, ignoring them, and Itachi followed. Behind them followed Naruto, who was clearly familiar with the place, as he jumped from one garden stone to the next with ease up to the front porch, which was enclosed with white mosquito netting and a screen door. Sasuke opened the screen and went up to the front door, and he and Naruto took up the doorway.
Itachi’s hand was shaking in time with Sasuke’s knocking, and the quiet that ensued was thick enough to choke on. It even made Sakura nervous. Still, she gave Itachi’s hand a gentle squeeze as they heard soft approaching footsteps, and saw a silhouette behind the cloudy glass in the door. “I’m here,” Sakura whispered as the door swung open, and Mikoto was there.
The years, like on Sasuke, had changed her features, but she had always been a beautiful woman with skin like magnolia petals and hair a raven-dark hue. There was a touch of silver in her hair, now, and crows feet and faint lines around her mouth that had not been there before. Despite the subtle signs of aging, she seemed more luminescent, now. Like something was no longer trying to smother her light.
She smiled at her youngest son and Naruto before her eye caught on Sakura between them, and she was visibly surprised, but her mouth fully dropped in shock at the sight of her first born. The sound that escaped her was something between a gasp and a sigh, and her hands dropped the dusting rag she had in her hand in favor of reaching out, eyes filling with tears.
Itachi took a shuddering breath. “Hello, mother.”
Mikoto and Itachi had been sequestered out on the patio for the last hour or so, sitting on the porch swing that was featured in most Konoha homes. In the interest of giving them privacy and keeping her mind off what happened in the hospital, Sakura texted her parents that everything was fine, and that she would pick up her’s and Kisame’s stuff later that night if they didn’t end up staying over again.
Sasuke played host to her, as Naruto, who was obviously at home, didn’t need it. Naruto pulled some snacks out of the pantry while Sasuke poured her a glass of lemonade, and Sakura noted it was homemade.
“Mikoto really went cottage-core after the divorce,” Naruto commented, and Sasuke scowled at him. “What?” Naruto defended. “It’s true . She’s all into organic shit and sustainability now.”
Sakura nodded slowly. She glanced at the walls, covered in watercolors and pictures of Mikoto in her youth with friends, and lots of Sasuke and Itachi as young children. She didn’t see the photo of Itachi and Sasuke at the party, however.
Naruto tried to engage her in conversation, but the air was slightly stifling while waiting on Itachi and Mikoto. Sakura half-expected to hear shouting, and was tensed to run and rescue Itachi any moment, and her end of the conversation constantly fizzled out. Soon even Naruto was tired of keeping the conversation alive for both Sasuke and Sakura, and he left to rest on a spare recliner. Within seconds he was snoring.
Sakura stared at him. “How does he do that?”
Sasuke replied, “It’s his one true talent.”
She chuckled dryly in response, and they lapsed back into silence. With every passing moment it seemed like everything was going to be alright out on the patio, and she let herself relax a little. Without Naruto, the silence was deafening, and would have been comfortable, if not for Sasuke sneaking looks at her every few seconds. She sighed. “What?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m not.”
“Sasuke.” Without Itachi or Naruto around, it was harder to feel comfortable with Sasuke. Or pretend that she wasn’t uncomfortable, that is.
Sasuke sighed. “I wanted to say thank you,” he started, “for doing what you did.”
She shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
Sasuke shook his head. “You know it is.”
“I just did it to help out Itachi,” she insisted, eyeing him sideways. “He loves you.”
“You still helped me out,” he shrugged, eyes back on the table. “You didn’t have to, but you did. So thanks.”
Sakura nodded and let the subject drop. She honestly had wanted to help Sasuke, not for his gratitude, but because it was the right thing to do. She wondered if he sensed that, and she tried to smoosh down the guilt that accompanied being not-nice to someone, even him.
She took a breath. “I’m glad you’re safe,” she admitted, “But I...”
Sasuke kept his eyes on the table, but she felt the whole weight of his attention. Emboldened by his passivity, Sakura opened her mouth once more. “I’m not ready for us to be friends again. I know I wasn’t a perfect person, but you fucked up, Sasuke. You hurt me badly if for no other reason that you were hurting, too. Even if I can kind of understand, it doesn’t excuse you.”
“You’re right,” Sasuke said, quietly.
“Don’t look so gloomy,” she snorted, “you’re going to be in Itachi’s life more surely than I ever will be. And yes, I fully expect you to be in his life, now. As much as he wants. But leave me a bit of room, okay?”
Sasuke nodded. “I can do that.”
Outside Mikoto and Itachi sat in silence, swinging to and fro for a long time. Itachi’s hand sat in his mother’s grasp, lying limp like an animal playing dead for fear of attack, but none came.
He had no idea what to say. He didn’t know how to begin. Did he compliment his mother? Tell he missed her? That he had missed her ever since he was a child and wished she had protected him better?
From what he could gather, she had broken away from Fugaku when Sasuke did. Itachi supposed that was more due to Sasuke’s nature than his mother’s. Sasuke must have lashed back at Fugaku, and Mikoto could not stand to lose another child.
His thoughts were broken by his mother speaking. “I don’t really know what to say.”
When he glanced at her, she was smiling that soft smile that now was tinged with pain, and Itachi’s heart clenched to see it. Mikoto continued, “I don’t know if I say that I’m sorry first, or that I missed you... That I worried for years, that I regret every time I let you down...” She wiped at the tears that jumped from her eyes while Itachi looked on.
“I wanted to tell you every day that I was always so proud of you, no matter what. That I wished you every happiness no matter where you were on this earth, even if you hated me for failing...” She cleared her throat. “And you would be right to...”
She fought to regain her composure, and Itachi felt helpless. His throat had closed, and tears welled in his own eyes, his failing eyes, which had won him freedom, and let him leave his mother behind. He swallowed through his aching throat. “I don’t hate you, mother.”
Mikoto shook her head. “No, son, please, I’m not trying to...to make this about me, I promise, I just...” She heaved a breath. “I wanted to be better for you, and I failed at that time and time again. I know that, now. But just seeing you here, in front of me, healthy and alive...” She reached out and cupped his face, “that’s all I need. You don’t owe me anything, my boy, my dear boy. I love you, son, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Itachi’s heart melted. Tears fell freely from his eyes as he leaned into his mother’s arms, and he let himself be held like a child, sobbing into her collar that smelled like jasmine. He confessed to her between sobs about his eyes, his life in Ame, and how he came here to fix things with Sasuke.
Gradually his breathing calmed, and he was so tired. He was still recovering from his concussion, and his head was aching horribly, but his mother rocked them in that swing, and he found he would endure far worse than a headache to be a child again, to have the life he should have had, where his flaws were accepted, and his father loved him unconditionally, and his mother could have protected him.
Yes, somewhere in his heart he had some anger, some resentment, at her, but in the end, he understood all too well how hard it was to stand up to the Uchiha clan. He had run away rather than endure and change the clan himself, and Mikoto must have loved Fugaku once. He could never hate her. He couldn’t even hate his father.
He could see the threads of pain that tried to change him into something he was not, and he saw they were what held the Uchiha clan up, and they wore those threads like they were spun of gold. They had made his father the man he was, blinded by clan pride and full of all that pain.
Itachi had to cut those threads on himself, and others took far longer to break free. How could he hate that?
Mikoto stroked the top of Itachi’s hair in a way that abruptly reminded him of Sakura. His mother seemed to read his mind. “Tell me about her?”
“She’s wonderful,” he murmured. “She brought me home.”
They sat a moment longer before Itachi spoke again. “Mother? Can I use your bathroom? I smell like the hospital.”
Mikoto pulled back. “...Why were you in the hospital?”
When Itachi came inside he sat with Sakura while his mother disappeared into the bathroom, and they heard the bathtub running. When Sakura cupped his face in her hands, running her thumbs down the tear troughs that were red with sorrow, he smiled and kissed her palms.
When the bath was ready Itachi went, and Sakura sent Sasuke after him to make sure he was safe again. There was a brief argument between the two and Sakura took the opportunity to go check on Kisame.
Like he promised, Kisame was fast asleep in the shade where they’d parked, seat thrown back, and she shook him to bring him inside. Since Sakura was not as tall as the boys she couldn’t support him as well, so he, grumbling, allowed himself to be sat in the wheelchair and let her roll him up the little drive. “How did it go?”
Sakura shrugged. “Well, we’re still here, so not bad. I’m exhausted, though.”
Kisame chuckled. “Tell me about it... Oh.”
Mikoto had come out to look for Sakura, and she was surprised yet again by her guests, eye flicking between Sakura and Kisame, who raised a hand in greeting. “Afternoon, ma’am,” he said with his normal charm. “I take it you’re Mikoto?”
Mikoto slowly approached, drying her hands on her linen skirt. “You must be my son’s friend from Ame.”
Kisame shrugged. “I guess so. I look out for him, help him out, and he gives me heart attacks so...” He cut off when Mikoto stooped and embraced Kisame where he sat in the wheelchair. It was rare for people to catch Kisame off-guard, and his hands hesitated briefly before they patted Mikoto’s slender shoulders.
“Thank you for watching over him,” Mikoto said, and Sakura felt her breath be taken away by how beautiful she was. She could see where Itachi got his gentleness from, too. When Mikoto straightened she looked directly at Sakura, who blushed at the intensity of her attention. There was no avoiding this now.
Sakura cleared her throat. “I, uh, don’t know if you remember me, but...”
“I never could forget you.” Mikoto’s grey eyes were piercing. Sakura shifted as her boyfriend’s mother circled around Kisame, who craned his neck back to look at them. Mikoto reached out slowly to cup Sakura’s chin. “I could never forget what happened. What we let happen to you. I’m sorry. We were wrong.”
Sakura shrugged and looked down at her feet. “You did your best. I mean, you were on the other side of the room, right?” she gave a watery chuckle, but Mikoto didn’t smile at her attempt at a joke.
“And now I learn that you brought my son home, that you helped my other son get away from his father... I can never thank you enough, Sakura Haruno. You’re the best thing that ever happened to my boys, and the hero I never deserved.”
Sakura’s lip trembled dangerously as Mikoto smiled softly, and Sakura hugged her tightly, Mikoto returning with interest, even kissing her pink hair. They pulled back, and Sakura laughed while wiping her cheeks.
“Oh,” Mikoto sighed. “Look at us. Let’s get you two back inside. It’s still too hot out here. How’s the weather in Amegakure? I surely hope it’s not hot on top of humid, that would be just awful...”
A few hours later saw Itachi, freshly washed of the hospital smell, sitting on his mother’s porch with Sakura, calling Nagato, who was his emergency contact beside Kisame, assuring him everything was fine. A few more hours and they would have launched an investigation. After news of Itachi’s mild concussion, they circled back to work.
“So it turns out we’ll have plenty of volunteers for the election season,” Nagato supplied. “More than anticipated. Your recruitment idea worked wonders. You won’t have to work it if you don’t want to.”
“You would have figured something out,” Itachi dismissed, running his fingers through Sakura’s hair where it lay across his lap, “I plan to be back home in time to help, though.”
“...I’m glad you’re safe, man. You’re one of us, and I don’t care where you were born. You’re Akatsuki to the core.”
“Thank you, Nagato,” Itachi said, smiling down at Sakura, who wiggled comfortably there, and he bid Nagato goodbye. His head throbbed once more and he groaned a little in pain, and remembered he needed some more painkillers.
Sakura said, “You should probably wear sunglasses. You’re going to be more sensitive to light for a while.”
Itachi scoffed. “For once I’m a little glad of my blind spot. I can’t see light from there. Plus,” he added, with a wry chuckled. “I’ll likely be wearing them in a few years, anyways.”
Sakura sat up and faced him, frowning in concern. “Pardon me if I don’t laugh?”
Itachi shrugged and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Sakura. This was bound to happen no matter what. By the way, I owe you some answers.”
Sakura huffed, poking him in the chest. “Yes, you do. That many zeros gave me an anxiety attack.”
Itachi nodded. “I did that for two reasons. One, it was the safest place for it. There was a chance Sasuke could have turned me over to our father, and made me give up the funds to the family, and I refuse to let that happen on principle.”
Sakura nodded. “Makes sense. But you called it reparations?”
Itachi hummed in confirmation. “Yes. The second reason is that it was Madara’s money that I inherited, alone, upon his death. I’ve had it for years, and it helped me get on my feet in a new country, and make a new life for myself. But other than that, I’ve had no use for it. I don’t like to touch it...”
Sakura asked. “So why not just donate it to charity? Why give it to me?”
“Because he dared to insult you,” Itachi said. “Everything he said about you, you proved him wrong. You were wronged most of all, Sakura; you weren’t even his blood. And you plan to become a great doctor, so I couldn’t think of a better use for the funds. I need you to know, too, that I didn’t give it to you because we’re together, now. I planned to since I saw you again.”
“Just because he was family doesn’t mean you all deserved to be abused by him,” Sakura muttered into his neck, nuzzling. “I can’t keep all that money, Itachi. It’s an obscene amount even for medical school.”
He sighed. “I suppose I understand why you feel that way. I can disperse it somehow. All of that free funding for a home, college, groceries...”
Sakura froze. “Well, I, um... when you put it that way...”
“Hmmm?” Itachi asked, touching his nose to hers while she blushed.
“I mean, as long as it’s not because I gave you some okay head or anything like that...”
Itachi laughed aloud at that and kissed her temple. “It was very nice head, but no, my love.”
Sakura put a hand on his thigh. “I meant it when I said not all of it. We’re going to give some to your mother and brother. I think Sasuke could use some new shoes.”
Itachi blinked at her. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
“Donate some to Hidan, too.”
“... Let’s negotiate on that a bit.”
From inside Mikoto watched her son absolutely blossom with the woman who sat next to him. Kisame sipped his lemonade and watched them right alongside her, while Naruto and Sasuke talked quietly at the dining table.
“They really are in love,” she remarked to Kisame quietly. “I always had a good feeling about her. Whenever Sasuke would talk about her, I would just...feel so optimistic.” She shrugged, smiling. “Different son, same result. He’s happy.”
Kisame nodded as though he understood. Mikoto sat beside him on the couch, and he had deja vu from just the night before, speaking with Mebuki Haruno. He remained quiet until she talked. It wasn’t long.
“Please keep watching over my son, Mr. Hoshigaki. I just got back on my feet after the divorce, and I don’t think I have in me to move just yet. Please don’t think poorly of me.”
“Never,” Kisame promised. “Amegakure isn’t for everyone. But I have to be honest with you, ma’am...I may not have long.”
Mikoto’s eyes were snatched away from her son and his lover back to him, and Kisame smiled sadly. “I’m a cancer survivor. But it’s come back, and I don’t plan on fighting it again this time. It nearly took me out last time, and I hated my life. This time, I’m just going to live the best I can, while I can. Don’t tell Itachi,” he asked, seeing her glance out the window to where the two young ones sat and talked, sun shining on them golden and sweet. “It’s not a good time, yet. But I’ll tell him soon, and while I can, I’ll keep him under my wing.”
“Both of them, if you can,” she requested, and Kisame grinned.
“That’s no problem for me, ma’am.”
Mikoto actually refused the money. “I spent my life wealthy,” she explained. “I actually got quite a bit from the divorce, and I’m just living simply, now. Don’t worry about me. But if you do want to make the old ogre roll in his grave, I recommend donating to the local women’s and LGBT shelters. Oh, and the homeless shelter. Madara was instrumental in cutting funding for them in the 90’s.”
So they did, right there in Mikoto’s living room. Shaving off all that money felt freeing to Sakura, and even after the generous donations there was plenty left she could use. It felt a little selfish to keep any of it, but Itachi suggested that once she became a doctor, she could just donate then.
Sasuke, too, refused the money. “I’m fine, I just like to use my things up before I get new ones,” he shrugged. “I don’t want anything from them anymore. You deserve it, though. Use it to prove them all wrong.”
The rest of the day was a logistical nightmare. They dropped Sasuke and Naruto off at the hospital, who then picked up their cars, and followed them to Sasuke’s apartment, where, thankfully, no Uchihas were lurking. Still, it was Naruto who went inside for Itachi’s things, and he emerged ten minutes later with a pile of Sasuke’s snacks, even though Mikoto had just fed them.
After Naruto finished gathering the things, they were back at a standstill, unsure of what to do, now. Kisame excused himself to the car while night fell around them, and the four of them stayed in an awkward ring, each waiting for the other to say something. Even Naruto seemed reluctant to break the mood.
Finally Sakura spoke. “Thanks for all the help, guys. For everything.”
“Truly,” added Itachi, his hand searching for hers.
Sasuke’s eyes warmed, and Naruto grinned widely. “Of course,” he said, “you’re our friend, Sakura! And now that you’re back, Itachi, you two need to come visit more often.”
Sakura chuckled. “That may be tricky with medical school coming up.” Her eyes widened, however, when she remembered something. “Shit!” she exclaimed, hands flying through her phone’s notifications that she’d silenced throughout the day. There had been an email she had meant to get to all day, but in the confusion of escaping Fugaku she had forgotten.
Sakura’s face was drained of color. “My interview is tomorrow! I haven’t prepped!”
Itachi nodded, “My heart, breathe. Gentlemen, this is our cue. We must stop at Sakura’s home before we head out.”
“Of course,” Naruto said, hugging Sakura fiercely while Itachi and Sasuke stepped away and spoke quietly. “You’re gonna do great, Sakura! And even if you fail, you’re gonna be fine.”
“Gee, thanks,” Sakura said, rolling her eyes. She gripped him by the shoulders, though, “One more thing: Don’t tell Ino I was here without saying hello to her. She’ll kill me.”
Naruto’s eyes widened in realization. He went out drinking with Shikamaru and Choji, and Ino occasionally tagged along. “Oh, god, you’re right. I won’t say a word!”
Sakura laughed and held him one more time. “For the record,” she whispered, “I forgive you.”
Naruto sobered before he smiled sadly. “Thanks,” he said, “I appreciate that.”
She jerked her chin at Sasuke. “Keep him in line.”
“Will do.”
Sakura nodded at Sasuke, which he returned, and she turned away from him. She joined Itachi in the car and put on her seatbelt. “You two all set?”
Itachi was studying her. “Are you alright?”
Sakura stared out the windshield as Naruto and Sasuke waved goodbye and climbed in their own cars. Sasuke would stay the night with Naruto’s family even though Fugaku Uchiha was booked in jail on multiple counts, so he would be just fine. Sakura looked over at her boyfriend and Kisame, who smiled in that roguish way of his, and she knew, then, that she would be fine.
“Yeah,” she said, starting the luxurious car. “Let’s go home.”
3 years later
Sakura heaved a sigh while Ino fussed with her hair. “Stop squirming or I’ll stab you with a bobby pin.”
Sakura tried to scowl but found she didn’t have the space in her mind to stay angry. “God, Ino, I don’t know if I can do this...”
Ino stooped down to stare at Sakura’s reflection. “I know you didn’t just say that.”
Sakura hunched defensively. “It’s a big deal!”
“You’re just graduating,” Ino pointed out, hands firm on Sakura’s shoulders. “You’re not a fraud. Repeat after me: I am not a fraud.”
“I am not a fraud...” Sakura nodded to herself. “I am not a... Fuck, Ino, but I feel like one. What if I get someone killed?”
“You get sued for malpractice and move on to stripping,” Ino shrugged. “Badda bing, badda boom.”
Sakura’s lips wobbled and Ino rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding! You’re not a doctor just yet, babes, but you have just graduated at top of your class a whole year early , and that is nothing to sniff at! And tonight you’re going to drink copious amounts of alcohol with your friends and wake up with a hangover! How does that sound?”
Sakura shrugged. “Sounds kinda like our undergrad.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ino said, giving Sakura one last spritz to lock the curls in place. There was a knock on the bathroom door, and Sakura called for them to come in. Haku entered with a smile, dressed in a well-tailored teal suit with a cream turtleneck, holding up the cake for inspection.
“Oh, thank you,” Sakura gushed, “I completely forgot! You're a lifesaver."
“It’s no problem,” Haku said,
Ino cocked an eyebrow at them. “How on Earth do you manage to stay completely dry? I wear a raincoat and boots and sometimes even a hat and I still get wet!”
“Cuz you’re a slut,” Sakura supplied while she gathered the cosmetics from her and Itachi’s counter back into her drawer. The lease at her first apartment ended a mere three months after they got together, and, quite honestly, she had barely lived there anyways, so it was an easy decision to move in with Itachi. Plus, with other conditions, it was the best choice.
In the kitchen Sasori and Zabuza were washing the dishes, and Sakura shooed them out. Or tried to, at least, but her boss refused to budge, even when Zabuza wisely retreated to help Haku put the last goodie bags together. Sasori rolled his eyes. “I know you’re busy people, but that’s no excuse to have a dirty sink.”
“Bite me,” Sakura nudged him good-naturedly and put away the fresh-cleaned baking pans they’d used to make cookies the night before. Despite her and Itachi living comfortably, they opted to go mostly hand-made for her graduation goodie-bags for their friends and family. They had tried to make a cake, but with Ino on oven watch duty...
There was a reason Haku went out to get a new cake.
Naruto lay crouched and somehow still sprawled out on the living room floor, painstakingly filling in the letters of the sign she insisted was embarrassing, but didn’t tell him to stop making. Beside him was a bucket of washable markers that he brought with him all the way from Konoha. Sai and Shin sat beside him, cheerfully insulting his line work, and Naruto thought they were just joking.
Mikoto and Mebuki sat on the couch together, laughing over the baby photos they’d brought across the border out of some unholy psychic mother pact. Nagato, Konan, and Yahiko, who had helped secure the permission to bring her family to Ame (it helped that Yahiko was the Prime Minister, after all), chatted with Kizashi by the bookshelf.
The once-immaculate shelves had undergone a grotesque metamorphosis from an organized aesthetic under Itachi’s care to bursting at the seams with Sakura’s medical books and journals. Itachi didn’t mind, he swore, but she caught him more than once trying to manage the overflow.
Sakura kissed her father on his scruffy cheek, and shook Nagato’s hand again, accepting his warm congratulations. Yahiko was less formal and hugged her outright; she’d introduced him to Konan, who gave her a proud smile, and they’d been together practically as long as she and Itachi.
Sakura grinned to remember that she had Hidan to thank for that; Sakura had been seen by Konan from that very first poetry night, and when Konan, the head of Ame’s Angels Hospice clinic, had been reviewing applicants, Sakura’s id photo had caught her eye, and she took a chance.
“I take it you’re new to the country. What do you think of it so far?” Konan propped one knee over the other while Sakura fretted in her seat. For all her nervousness, she wasn’t prepared for such a simple question. It didn’t help that she was sleep deprived after just getting back into Ame late the night before.
“Oh! Um, well, honestly... It’s a little harsh, sometimes. It’s very wet. But...” Sakura looked out the window to where the rain fell, constant as ever. “This is a place that gives so many people hope and healing, including my partner and I. It’s become home to me now.”
Konan smiled at that. “I’m very glad to hear that. And why do you want to study with us, besides becoming a doctor, Ms. Haruno?”
Sakura thankfully didn’t say ‘no one else had called her,’ but she was very close. She took her time, sensing that Konan would detect any falsehoods, until she found the proper truth. “Ever since I was little, I thought I knew what becoming a doctor meant. But now, I know there are some lessons medical school can’t teach, and that’s that sometimes we fail. That people die, that sometimes things progress beyond what we can cure, and I think I need to learn that in order to become the best physician I can.”
“For Ame?”
“For everyone.”
And somehow she got it. Sakura liked to think it was her grades and Shizune’s glowing recommendations, but she was about 75% sure that it was because Konan knew she wasn’t going to get in anywhere else.
Doing clinicals with the terminal and dying while studying was one of the hardest things she had ever done in her life, even with Itachi supporting her. She had to take a break from Hiruko for a few months, (although she only worked maybe a few hours a week), and questioned every decision she had ever made for anything, but Sasori never gave up on her.
He even sicced his grandmother on her over Zoom during one tearful trip to the bar, and Chiyo gave her the advice she needed.
“I’ve lost hundreds of patients, dear. Don’t think you’re special. You even picked the job whose patients are actively dying, so quit sniveling and get back to work.”
Okay, maybe Sakura would have liked a kinder approach, but she was so taken aback that she stopped crying, and retorted that she only had two out of four actively dying patients, thank you, so it must have worked.
Chiyo declared that Sakura was a keeper, and if she ever wanted to stop by Suna, she’d teach Sakura the good shit, but don’t take too long, dearie, who knows how long I’ve got?
Sakura could suddenly understand why Sasori was the way he was as Chiyo bid her goodbye before Sakura could get another word in edgewise. “Wow.”
Sasori passed her a shot on the house and Sakura gladly took it, and even Kakuzu, who’d overheard the whole thing, didn’t grouse about the $4 vodka.
Sakura still got whiplash thinking about that interaction. She did end up going to Suna with Itachi on their rare vacation days, and met up with Sasori. Chiyo largely ignored her grandson and Sakura in favor of Itachi, sitting him down and feeding him food so spicy his face became pinker than Sakura’s hair.
“So, the Slug Princess is your doctor? Feh! Gal’s lost her edge. Best Oncologist in the five great nations and she downgrades to Ophthalmology in a silly little backwater.”
“She’s actually my primary,” Itachi replied. “She studied Ophthalmology just for my case. She still practices Oncology, as well.”
Chiyo actually stopped dead in her tracks and Sakura wondered if she went into shock.
Chiyo whirled back around, cackling. “Ah, that old bag! Still keeps sharp, eh? Eh heh heh heh! Alright, now I’m impressed.”
Sasori leaned close. “That’s the quietest she’s ever been since I first showed her Hiruko’s profit margins. She was never impressed again.”
Chiyo did end up teaching Sakura a lot, even though it was less obscure medical knowledge and techniques than administrative hacks and power moves to shut up even the most arrogant of male doctors, and Sasori assured Sakura that Chiyo actually quite liked her. Sakura still doubted this a bit, though, as Chiyo had said that her miso soup was a pitiful puddle to feed her partner. Sasori assured her that just meant she was going to send Sakura her cookbook once she finally found it. It took four months, but Sasori was right.
Out on the porch Sakura found her partner sitting and listening to the rain with his brother. Itachi’s hair now reached his mid back in a simple ponytail that still never looked douchey, although she had seen it mussed more than any person alive. He turned, sunglasses abandoned, showing his slightly faded irises. “Sakura?
Itachi’s sight failed completely just six months ago, yet another challenge that made her want to take a break from medical school. But Sakura and Itachi, they found, were far from without help. The Akatsuki adjusted his workload and made suitable arrangements for his disability, and Sasuke moved to Ame, just two doors over, to assist his brother with the adjustment, and Sakura found he would be an excellent assistant to any disabled person.
Sasuke was patient and gentle and very efficient in any task, and didn’t baby his brother. Not that Itachi would allow such a thing, but the two worked well together to find systems that helped Itachi move about the apartment and the city safely, and to help with work or cooking or cleaning when Sakura couldn’t. Sasuke was also a master at redirecting his brother’s frustration, which was worth probably more than anything else he did.
The last year had challenged them as a couple and as people more than any other time in their lives. Even Itachi, normally so steadfast and calm, had suffered doubt and pain and wept bitterly when he could no longer see the color of his girlfriend’s eyes, but not quite so hard as when they had finally lost Kisame.
Sakura wished Kisame could have seen her graduate, or been there to lift up Itachi when he suffered, but their friend’s time had come just at the start of the new year, and they had to manage life without him.
Kisame went fast and his pain treatment was impeccable; just like he had wanted. Konan herself had overseen Kisame’s care, and he enjoyed her company so much that he requested that Konan make his funeral bouquet out of origami.
When Kisame breathed his last he did so with a smile, knowing that Zabuza and Itachi and Sakura were by his side, and that he was loved. Tsunade, Kisame and Itachi's physician, was there as well, and Sakura sat by her as the beautiful woman told stories about Kisame, tears falling from her beautiful amber eyes.
The funeral was simple; Kisame opted to be put to sea as a new artificial reef. Coworkers from the Aquarium (with an octopus in tow), and old friends all the way from Kirigakure came to pay their respects to one of the best of men, and Hidan presided over the memorial with the beautiful poetry that Kisame so loved in life, and afterwards everyone smoked weed and cried and ate together. It was the best funeral Sakura had ever been to, even though it was one the hardest days in her life.
And she still went on with her studies and clinicals, wading through piles of books and tests and combating doubt from her professors and fellows that some girl from Fire Country could beat out the Ame citizens, just like she did in high school, eager to prove the Uchihas wrong.
She was bone-tired every day, but still she went on doggedly, ready to become everything Kisame and Itachi and Sakura believed she could be, until finally she was informed by her advisor that she’d completed every requirement with flying colors a whole year ahead of schedule, and could graduate that very end of term, if she wanted.
Sakura cried almost as hard in that chair as she had at Kisame’s death, and that night Itachi ate her out until she cried some more, victorious and happy. Sakura was also tempted to travel back to Konoha just to dance on Madara Uchiha’s grave. Itachi gently vetoed the idea, but Sasuke offered his support of the idea with a silent thumbs-up.
With the last few years of polite correspondence between them, and then outright saving Sakura and Itachi’s health and sanity, the rift between Sasuke and Sakura was healed, and they found their new friendship was stronger than it had ever been. He became her brother, her study partner when Itachi was busy or dejected, and an all around pillar of support. He also knew when to make himself scarce whenever Sakura and Itachi got into the mood.
Sasuke nodded at her and vacated his seat for her to head back inside, and Sakura sat beside her partner. Itachi smiled and held his hand out, and she grasped it tightly. “What a year,” she sighed.
“Indeed,” Itachi nodded. “But we made it.”
She giggled. “We did. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Itachi turned to her, eyes warm despite their cold color, and smiled. “Nor I without you. I don’t want to think about what my life would have been like if Kisame hadn’t found you.”
“You would have been fine,” Sakura assured as she kissed his knuckles. “You’re incredible, Itachi, don’t ever forget that.”
Itachi shook his head. “I never would have had the courage to reach out to my family again without you. More than half the people inside are yours. You’ve given me a new family, Sakura, and it’s a warm one that’s full of love.”
Sakura blushed. Despite the wholesome topic, when he talked like that all she could remember were the times of his whispered promises to fill her up with his cum and give her children. He seemed to read her mind. “Tonight, my love,” he said, voice low as he leaned over to kiss her, “I’m going to wreck my beautiful doctor.”
Sakura sighed into the kiss. “I love it when you look at me like that.”
That evening, just after giving her speech as Valedictorian, the Prime Minister of Amegakure took to the stage, escorting his good friend Itachi Uchiha out, who knelt in front of thousands with his dark glasses and cane, and asked Sakura Haruno to marry him, and she cried and said yes, yes, a thousand times, yes, while outside the rain poured on, washing away the pain of the past and giving new life to its citizens.
Finis