Sakura is at home. Her mother is passed out on the couch, and for the moment, all is peaceful in the broken Haruno house. Lying on her bed, she misses Itachi. She wants to feel him take her in his strong arms, and to smell him on her clothes long after he's gone. And she wants to feel him suck her kiss just like he always does.

As she is drifting off to sleep, images of him drifting through her head, she hears the noise of a slamming door, and then a growl. Sitting bolt upright, she knows what is making the sound. Her father has come home, and doesn't sound very pleased. As she bolts down the stairs, Sakura hears a crashing noise. She enters the main room, and there is her father, screaming at her mother.

"And look, now the little whore has come in. Just how many times have you fucked that bastard this week?" his voice comes out as a cold hiss, his attempt at mock caring drowned in alcohol. "Father, get the hell out of this house right now." She takes a step forward to emphasis her point, leaving her standing only a few feet from him.

"This house? Get out? I think not you naive little whore. I bought this house. I own this house. You do not give the orders around here. I do." Lunging forward, he slaps her hard across the face. Sakura falls to the floor, holding her cheek. Standing over her, he lifts her up by the neck, slowly crushing her windpipe.

"You, my dear, are a bright flame. And I think it's time that you were snuffed out before you burn something down." She struggles, but his grip is too strong.

Suddenly Sakura's mother is on his back. He drops her, and reaching behind his head, grabs her mother's hair. Practically ripping it out of her head, he pulls her off. A growl comes from his mouth as the first fist comes hailing down. It hits her in the back, and another one quickly follows. Sakura watches in horror, desperately trying to regain her breath, as he slowly kills her mother.

But she's not done yet. Grabbing a bottle off of the floor beside her, Sakura's mother smashes it over his head. Then, taking the opportunity as he stumbles, she jabs him in the face with the remains of the bottle.

Shaking his head, a roar comes from his mouth. An eye is clamped shut, part if the eyelid missing, he tackles her mother. Pulling a knife from his belt, he brings it up above his head to stab her. She smacks his arm as he brings the knife down, guiding it off course. But it doesn't completely miss, and instead buries itself in her shoulder, rendering the arm useless.

She screams, and with her other hand, proceeds to jab her thumb into his good eye. He rips the knife out of her, and raises it again. The last thing Sakura hears is her mother's scream, and then the sickening thud as the knife buries itself in her forehead.

She runs from the house as fast as she can, not looking back. In her last good deed, her mother had protected her. As the blocks fly by, she runs to the only place she feels safe. When she reaches it, she sprints to the door and runs in.

Her back pressed against the door, the only sound that Sakura can hear is her frenzied breath. Something is wrong. "Itachi?" comes her confused sob. The adrenaline from her house is dissipating, and the reality of the situation is setting in.

She watched her mother die. Killed by her father no less. She had no home. Other than here, with Itachi. And now he wasn't talking to her. She starts to call his name again, but it chokes in her throat. Sakura collapses on the floor, tears clouding her vision.

But when Itachi still doesn't come, she gets up. Something is seriously wrong. Getting up, she doesn't see anything wrong. Slowly, she ventures up the stairs, toward his bedroom. As she reaches the top of the stairs, she hears laboured breath. Walking closer to the room, it gets louder, but she can also pick up on a second, softer set of breaths.

Peering into the room, horror clouds her vision. On the bed lies Itachi, his white shirt stained red around his chest. Twin streams of crimson blood run from the corners of his mouth. And standing over him is none other than his bastard brother Sasuke, knife in hand, and a look of pure hatred on his face, his gaze focused on Itachi.

Running forward, he catches her in a hug. "Sasuke... What have you done?"

"I killed him for you, cherry blossom. Now we can be together. No more intrusions." The knife has dropped behind her as he whispers in her ear. Her knees go weak, and Sakura collapses onto the ground. He kisses her. And she lets it happen. As his tongue pushes her lips open, she does nothing to stop him.

One of his hands moves behind her head, pulling her closer. She does the same with hers, but she knows what she must do. With her free hand, Sakura grabs the knife from the floor beside her. Silently imbuing it with chakra, she lifts it high, and plunges it into his back.

Sasuke's mouth opens wide as it crushes bone and rends flesh. Plunging through him, the knife finally stops in his heart. Pulling it from his back, she rolls his body off of hers. He coughs, and blood spurts from his mouth. A sad smile on her face, Sakura turns her attention to Itachi. Tears flowing down her cheeks, she lies down on the bed beside him, stroking his hair.

"Oh Itachi. Why you? It's all my fault, and now you pay the price." Sluggishly, he manages to turns his head over to her and silences her doubts with a kiss. Breaking the contact, he croaks "You can't blame yourself for what isn't your fault. And just remember, you'll always be my cherry blossom."

"I need you to live Itachi. Without you, I have no reason to go on. She climbs on top of him, and he groans. Wrapping his arms around her, he's too weak to protest. Sakura raises the already bloody knife to her tender neck. The cold touch of the metal on her neck causes her to shiver. Slowly, she draws the knife across her jugular vein. As it severs, blood flows. She'll be dead in seconds.

With her dying motion, she kisses him. And he with his kisses back. She was always his cherry blossom, and always would be.

As they draw their last breaths, they are content, locked in eternal embrace, they died. Even as she wilted, she was his cherry.