A/N: Ficcy for the occasion on Uchihafest (LJ); requested by kiminokaeru (LJ).

This fic was beta-ed by the talented and fabulous wicked enough.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, and not I.

Title: Pride of Winter
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Implied ItaSasu, over use of canon one-sided SakuSasu
Summary: Team seven finds out.
POV is: Second Person- Haruno Sakura’s.

You look.

With emerald eyes.

You stare.

With utter doubt.

He looks back complacent and cold. It has been exactly three years, five months, two weeks, and four days since he returned. You weren’t considered the cleverest kunoichi in your school for no reason.

He is the same. And he is not the same.

His eyes are different.

You cannot look directly into the sun anymore.

You look away.

--

He has secrets.

That is all; you try to convince yourself. Naruto is lying.

You want to believe that. But you can’t. Naruto never lies. You reason stubbornly in your head, your inner self shaking her head and fool she says. Naruto, he’s stubborn and foolish, and brave. He doesn’t lie. He can’t. But still you persist- under the simple swaying branches, the flower of your namesake swirling in the air, spring coming and willing to leave again you cannot comprehend.

“Those bruises, those wounds,” Naruto says looking at you a different kind of worry and determination set like entwining spirals. You wonder how the clarity of blue like that appeared to be so. You shift uncomfortably in your seat on the balcony railing.

“I doubt Sasuke inflicted those wounds on himself,” his eyes shift over to you to see if you’re listening “…and Orochimaru’s dead,” his voice, you almost have to strain to hear it over the wind. For once Naruto is being quiet, he doesn’t want whatever he’s saying to reach Sasuke’s ears. You’re sure of it. You don’t know exactly what he’s saying but you have an inkling of it; one could only be ignorant of so much.

Naruto is looking into your eyes now and you wonder for a breath’s moment what he sees.

“I heard the Akatsuki has been hanging around the boundaries of Konoha,” he goes deadly silent and your heart feels as if it’s stopping. “Itachi,” you almost whisper. Naruto only nods. He is pacing familiarly.

“If he and Sasuke were to meet...” you ponder. Naruto gazes at the wall behind your shoulder and certainly re-calling something that has happened; you can’t help but consider. Happened, you wonder-heart quickened as you imagined Sasuke confronting his last kin- what would happen if Sasuke and Itachi were to meet again? Briefly you remember Naruto’s aged witness to this and shudder.

You can only hope Sasuke does not know of this.

But you are missing the point

Your inner self corrects you viciously—because you want to. Not because you can’t.

The present is like a simple thing to you. It is the now and the occurrence of who and what is. You know this is the place you prefer to be- as it is the now that you are in that has you as strong. You don’t want to lack power. You mustn’t.

The future is only something you can dread or look forward to, according to your actions in the present. Naruto looks ahead to this because being behind is the last thing he wants to be and you can’t help but whole-heartedly agree.

The past though is entirely different. It is of a different nature. A different species. It is the thing Sasuke is caught in, a place that is too dark and unforgiving. No living thing can stay there.

Itachi is dead.

You look to Sasuke and still think him strong and beautiful. Still.

Uchiha.

You can’t help but feel that the whole clan is something other-worldly, supernatural… a ghost.

Sasuke is dead as well.

You won’t, can’t these words echo forebodingly sweet and- you refuse to raise your head to this notion, even if Naruto does.

It is you who treats his wounds.

Each leaf is the colour of fire. Sasuke, you know specializes in this. You know this and it saddens you briefly. His destruction was realistic.

You bandage each wound carefully. Slices carved into his back. Thin and a deep red like his eyes you know they’re from nails.

Small scrapes on his knees and the palms of his slender hands. From groveling, the voice in your head supplies and you try to dismiss it with only a shake of your head.

Bruises on his hips. You avoid looking at them as you bandage his torso; you try to avoid looking at the ones on his lips. By his eye? Oh his beautiful eyes… cloudy and dark like smoke you think the lies you keep telling yourself will dissipate and twist Naruto’s truths into things that are not facts but…

“Sasuke-kun,” you say slowly. Your voice shaking, you feel tears slip from out of your eyes and you hate Itachi more than anything now.Weakling, you call yourself.

Sasuke is silent and you can tell he will do anything to avoid the un-uttered words you dare say. His fingers twitch, and you hear a small, uneasy sigh. From the corner of your eye you see his eyes shifting restlessly.Now, you want to kiss him the way Itachi did that day don’t you? Your courage is faltering, but only a little so you continue with your reaching hand, you know his are smaller than yours.

“Why do you let-?” you manage to say but courage has nothing to do with the body’s regular responses to emotion and you only wish you were Naruto; he would know and be able to act in a way that would feel -vibrant and quick, not weak- right to Sasuke. Sasuke who finally turned to you to-

To what?

You don’t want to say you’re being used. This one thing only you could do for him after he comes back from home sore and bruised and broken. He doesn’t need Naruto’s searching eyes when did he become so old? Your comforting words are useless, spineless, they mean nothing. None of these things he feels safe with. None of these things- the smile you put on everyday it sustains you from rain, Naruto’s voice which sounds too much like Kakashi’s now… none of these things. The only warmth you’ll know he can ever receive and won’t from either of you- it isn’t what he wants.

But you’re sure he wants this.

How sure?

But you’re not too sure as to why and you’ve been hiding this small bit of sin for so long and... Liar... It isn’t so small is it? Shut up you tell the voice in your head This is for him isn’t it? You’re not allowed to tell yourself what’s wrong and what’s right- but you are, so you decide just stop this. His hand is over your mouth now he is considerate but not apologetic in any way; “Thank you,” he murmurs.

His hand muffles a sob and you don’t ever want to-

--

You stare at the doorway.

You go in.

Naruto is there.

“Sakura,” he says. ‘Chan’ is no longer used, for the use of it was forgotten years ago; when Kakashi died to save the mission.

Orochimaru your heart bitterly recalls the name, but it only leaves a numb sense of hate. Not passionate or burning as-Sasuke his name comes once again to your mind and you suppress your sharp gaspNaruto can’t hear your thoughts. You’re glad for that. You’ve always been glad for that. The voice whispers sharply like a snake’s hiss.

“This place,” Naruto says, voice cracking from grief. You can see his tears drip to the floor, and you can only hide your shame. Why am I feeling this? It wasn’t I who-

You touch the door frame and vaguely think his room. And all those years of wanting to be here was wrong. It was foolish. It was here Itachi had-

“Kakashi,” Naruto says suddenly your head twists over to look at him, he’s taking it far worse than you- you can’t help but think and your knuckles turn almost as white as lily’s skin from the pressure of your controlled grip.

“Told me old families, in order to keep their bloodline pure would…” he’s hanging over the bed now, clutching at the sheets, knees on the floor and you want to tell him to get up but the words always seem frozen in your throat. He’s shaking his head in what could be called denial or loathing you don’t know; he turns to you not willing to look for an answer.

“But this!” He sits up slowly and you feel nostalgic as you stare at his back “They’re brothers!”

You’re gasping now. You remember how hard it is to swim in moving water.

You turn your focus to the lamp at the bedside and find it isn’t there any more. You know why. You start picking out each embedded shard–many have cut deep into his muscles -you flinch but he doesn’t and you know you’re not the same.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can offer and you know it isn’t enough, but you can tell Naruto doesn’t care about that at all. He almost looks at you betrayed but you know he thinks he is just misplacing things.

“I told him we were like brothers,” Naruto looks up at you almost smiling and you feel a pang of guilt as you see his heartbroken face- his features quickly shifting into an expression of detest. Misery. “I wonder what Sasuke thought when I said that,”

He takes a deep breath and you think of mountains.

“Am I sick Sakura?” You close your eyes. He does not know-

“No,” You shake your head to give more meaning to your words that now are moving and flowing, melted despite the diseasing autumn. “It is I who is sick,” You touch his shoulder your grip is strong and decide quickly.

You notice it is snowing.

/An’fang/