Disclaimer : I don't own Naruto.
Sakura was humming a happy tune to herself as she busily prepared dinner in the kitchen. Sasuke would be coming home from his mission that night. She wanted to cook his favourite dish for him. She smiled when she heard the front door being opened softly. He was home, a little earlier than she had expected him to be.
He didn't answer. She hadn't hear his footsteps approaching either. It was only when he held her from behind that she realized he was already in the kitchen. Her shoulders' muscles tensed for a spilt second as her instinct kicked in but she immediately relaxed when her mind registered his touch.
"You are home early. How did the mission go?" She smiled and asked.
"Good." He wrapped his hand around her wrist and rested his chin on her shoulder.
"I'm cooking your favourite dish tonight, tomatoes and rice balls!"
After a while, he whispered near her ear as his free hand caressed her cheeks with a feather light touch. "Sakura, do you know what love is?"
"Why do you ask?" She chuckled a little and continued to slice her tomatoes.
"You haven't answered my question."
"How 'bout you tell me?"
He smirked and brushed his lips over her neck before he answered, "I think love is sacrifice…"
Her green irises suddenly went twice as wide as he slit her throat swiftly with a kunai. Then he let go of her, letting her limp body fall to the floor. Blood splattered everywhere – the wall, the floor, the furniture… Her porcelain face, her soft pink locks, her little red dress were all stained in crimson.
He kneeled down and wiped the blood stain from her face with the back of his hand. Horror finally sunk in when she saw him staring back at her coldly with his Sharingan. She struggled to drink in the face that belonged to her beloved husband - familiar black hair, red Sharingan, pale complexion - except it wasn't him.
"You…you're not Sasuke…" she gasped, choking in her own blood.
He stood up and continued to watch indifferently as her body jolted for a few more seconds on the floor before it went completely limp. Then he dropped the blood-stained kunai beside her and walked towards the door. Just before he left, he turned and cast one last glance at the lifeless lump of body lying on a pool of blood. He had always thought that red suited her best.
Satisfied that his message to his foolish little brother would be sent across clearly, Itachi shut the door behind him.
A/N: My first attempt writing about Itachi. Just a random musing that I had in the middle of the night. Hope you'll enjoy reading.
Before I forget, thanks to my beta-reader, Isee.