Shinobi (Sequel to Otokage)

How Have You Been... Itachi?

Tomorrow. They'd have the drug information tomorrow and then they'd be able to return to Konoha.

Sasuke shifted in his bed, eyeing the white sheets and the deep green walls of the room What had the nurse said about the color? That it promoted psychological and emotional healing? Something along those lines, he was sure. He moved his gaze to the sunflowers on the table beside him. She also told him that they grew all sorts of flowers on the hospital roof, and that if he had a preference he only had to ask.

He leaned back against the wall and sighed. He lost the fight, but Sakura didn't rub it in his face. She took it as an easy acceptance, stuck her hand out, and brought him back onto his feet. She was different, certainly. Nothing like the genin he knew eleven years ago and had grown for more in those years then he probably would in a lifetime.

Alright. He admit it. He screwed up in demanding her to battle and came off more childish than he intended. Sakura was a Kage. He supposed she was just humoring him. Sasuke looked down at his bandaged arms, then reached up to feel the black seal on his shoulder.

If she was able to repress the curse mark, did that mean she could get rid of it as well?

Suddenly, there were two knocks on the door before it opened. Sasuke gripped his sheets and involuntarily made his sharingan twirl into existence. Itachi stepped into the room clad in his doctor's coat that hung loosely on his frame and a large journal in his hand. He pulled up a chair and sat next to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you've been faring. Your ordeal with Sakura-sama was far from pleasant." 

Checking up on him? What a joke. Itachi wouldn't waste his time like that. Sasuke's eyes flickered down to the ID hanging from his older brother's breast pocket. COUNSELOR, it read. From the PEDIATRICS DEPARTMENT. Itachi crossed his legs and opened his journal. He took out a pen from his pocket to begin working on whatever the hell he did. Sasuke grit his teeth.

"You're just going to sit there?"

"I intend to." Itachi replied, looking up for a second, "At least until it's time to resume my duties."

Sasuke glanced at his sword across the room. It was tucked neatly in its scabbard, waiting to be used. If he was enough, he could get it, couldn't he? Or he could make up an excuse to use the bathroom and get him from behind. But maybe he'd be able to use the kunai stashed under his pillow, or did the nurses come and take it when he was knocked out from the morphine?

Twelve years and I thought you'd learn forgiveness by now.

He twitched as Sakura's words rang through his head. That's right; she told him both that time and during the fight that he should forgive Itachi for what he did. Still, he thought that this man couldn't do anything to redeem himself for the crime he committed, but...

Sasuke raised his eyes to take in the full appearance of the person who took care of him the first eight years of his life. Who believed in him when his father didn't and when his mother just couldn't muster enough to do so. Who made him laugh and smile whenever he felt like he wasn't meeting up to the clan's standards.

He moved on, Sasuke.

He forgot about all those happy memories, like his childhood and home life before the massacre. It wasn't perfect, of course, but nobody was. Not even Itachi. Thinking back to that night, he could remember the scent of blood thickening in the air. He was standing in the middle of the street, tears down his cheeks and Itachi's back facing him. Hate, strength, foolishness... Though in the middle of that speech he turned his head. Hallucination or not, Itachi's eyes had a particular wetness to them.