Title: Fantasia and Fugue

Summary: Put a spontaneous woman and a perfectionist in the same room and you will have chaos. Force the pair together and you will have the perfect duet. ItaSaku. AU. Oneshot.

Inspirations: Title is taken from Bach's Great Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, BWV. 542. Many elements were also inspired by the manga/anime Nodame Cantabile, which I highly recommend if you're interested in music/piano.

Written for the 100 themes challenge—a link to their group page is on my profile. This particular fanfiction is based on prompt #95, variation 4: "Fantasia."

Any musical inconsistencies are my fault, and I apologize for that! Unfortunately, I am not musically talented.

Mikoto Uchiha, who preferred to be called "Mikoto-san," was the matriarch of the Uchiha family, a family renowned for their musical talents.

Her husband, Fugaku, was a brilliant composer and pianist but was mainly fulfilling his dream as a conductor in the years after their first son, Itachi, was born. He had won numerous international awards and was recognized in the musical world as "the modern man comparable to Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven" in skill, making the switch at the peak of his career an outcry to former supporters of his music. Even after their second son, Sasuke, had been born five years later, there were still many bitter over the "fall" of such a brilliant musician. Her husband was content, however, and she would never wish upon him his former, though entirely successful, life.

She herself was a woman to be revered. She had learned piano at the tender age of three, and her parents were ecstatic over her interest. She was grateful (and lucky) that her parents never forced her to perform for the top, only to do her best and enjoy what she was doing along the way. As such, she performed with happiness, all pressure coming from herself and anyone but her family.

Living up to the expectations as Fugaku's future wife, she had been one of his many rivals and competed against him in the International Chopin Piano Competition. She placed fourth but was more surprised by the fact that her future husband had been disqualified when he failed to show up.

After all, being rivals also meant she respected and admired him a great deal.

Mikoto found out soon after the competition was over that, unlike her, Fugaku had been raised to become a pianist by force. She heard about a certain symphony concert nearby with a remarkable amateur conductor who looked shockingly similar to him.

He confided to her much later that although he had found piano fun as a child, those emotions soon turned bitter towards the very instrument that had brought him fame. His parents entering him into the International Chopin Piano Competition without his permission was the last straw—he did not enjoy playing Chopin (apparently Liszt and Mozart were his personal favorites). So instead of arriving at the competition as his parents had planned, he arrived in Warsaw, Poland by plane and then immediately ditched the competition for a symphony in need of a last-minute conductor nearby. He knew the basics of being a conductor, as he had studied it during his own free time (as little of it as there was.) On stage for the first time, he recalled the feeling of finding his place at the conductor's stand and that was that. When she had offered her support and helped him gain connections that were otherwise blocked by his angry parents, it was only a matter of time before they soon became close.

Before Itachi was born, her husband still played piano for a few renowned competitions to gain connections and even received first place in the International Franz Liszt Piano Competition. After his first son's birth, however, Fugaku swore off playing in piano competitions, opting to become a full-time and successful conductor. It had required a bit of traveling on his part at first, but he soon found a permanent position as the conductor for the New Japan Philharmonic.

At the same time, Mikoto knew she couldn't continue her career while taking care of Itachi at the same time.

Instead of letting her talents go to waste, she decided on a much more flexible profession as a piano teacher.

Her name preceded her and requests came flocking in. She only took in a few applicants at the time while nursing Itachi, though that number increased after a few years and then subsequently dropped back down again once Sasuke was born.

Two decades later, Mikoto was still teaching piano to younger students, even making a few of her former students rise to fame.

Yes, one of her "former students" included her own son Itachi. She had treated him the same way her parents had treated her, giving him the opportunity to quit playing if he did not enjoy it. She also made sure not to pressure him into participating in competitions, but as it turned out, Itachi was similar to herself in that respect. (Her younger son Sasuke had quit piano before middle school, preferring sports over music, and she graciously accepted it.)

At twenty five years old, Itachi looked akin to and followed after her husband, finishing third at the International Franz Liszt Piano Competition. It seemed as if Itachi had not only gained his father's looks but also his father's tastes.

But Mikoto saw a possible wall in her elder son's future. As prodigious as he was, what Itachi lacked in his playing was one of the most important aspects in any instrument: emotion. Of course, when he played Liszt in the competition, there was emotion in his playing. She attributed it to her son's preference towards Liszt and Mozart, and therefore he enjoyed the compositions more. He expressed his enjoyment through the various emotions he believed each part of the piece should have. In pieces composed by Chopin, Bach, and others, however, Itachi was too focused on playing each note as precisely what was written on the sheet music. To most ears the pieces still sounded beautiful, but to international critics, other musicians, and her, it was obvious that the best he could achieve in many areas was sub-par.

Luckily, she had finally found a possible solution to her son's weakness in the form of one of her female students.

Sakura Haruno was not a new student of hers. Sakura had been her student for half a year and at first seemed like a hopeless case.

The girl had originally been transferred to her from a teacher friend of hers, stating that she couldn't do anything more for the girl. Mikoto had no idea what that meant at the time: Was the girl secretly a prodigy, or was she impossible to teach?

At first, Mikoto believed it was the latter. Sakura just could not stay still, always feeling the need to fidget in her seat every few minutes.

When Mikoto contacted her friend about the situation for clarification, he only laughed it off.

"It took me eight months to discover her hidden talents. Give her some time—she'll be sure to surprise you one of these days."

And surprise Sakura did.

One day, five months after first arriving on her doorstep, Sakura came in for her lesson, sat down obediently, and began playing.

As an instructor who had come to believe she failed at teaching this one student, Mikoto was shocked to hear a beautiful rendition of Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 24 in C minor. It was the same piece she tried teaching her student last week and—she had assumed—to no avail. She noticed a few improvised measures and notes that flitted in between a couple stanzas, but for the most part the song was played correctly and with enthusiasm. Even the improvised sections matched the tone that Mozart had strived for when composing the piece!

Intrigued, she bombarded Sakura with questions once her student finished playing.

Why didn't you play this way from day one? Why wait five months? Why did you only wait five months for me when your former teacher told me it took him eight months to hear you playing like this?

In response, Sakura patiently explained how she really enjoyed playing piano from the bottom of her heart. The only problem that all her former teachers had was she could never completely follow the music on the sheet. It was a habit of hers to add in a few lines of improvisation when her teachers least expected it. When it came to her former teacher, she had delayed showing him her skill until eight months passed, the reason being that he ended up yelling and lecturing her in frustration whether or not she played. Once he heard her potential, he immediately transferred her here. Unlike him however, Sakura explained how Mikoto-san didn't force her or yell at her when she didn't feel like showing her skill. As a result, she hoped the outcome to be different this time.

Mikoto was fascinated by her student's explanation. Though Sakura's behavior could be described as immature for a twenty year old, Mikoto understood that many musicians had idiosyncrasies they were unwilling to part with. Her own husband's dislike for Chopin, after all, led to a change in his career. She opted to ignore Sakura's behavior in favor of another discovery. If the only problem with Sakura was her inability to follow the music precisely, then Mikoto had found herself someone who could help her son improve. (And with the help of her son, maybe Sakura could break—or at least willingly suppress—her habit as well.)

Her opportunity arrived two weeks later when it came time to apply for the Piano Duo Competition in Tokyo, a competition where two people were required to play a duet, or a solo composition divided or improvised into two parts.

Though Mikoto had promised herself never to do this to her own students, she also promised herself that this would be the only exception.

Signing her son and Sakura up for the upcoming competition, she considered her options in breaking the news to her son and student.

fantasia: noun. a musical composition with a free form and often an improvisatory style.

Put a spontaneous woman and a perfectionist in the same room and you will have chaos.

Surprisingly, it was her son who spoke first.

"What."

She winced. His son didn't have to ask a question to receive an answer; his tone demanded an answer immediately.

She could tell her son was angry underneath his mask of indifference, and she couldn't blame him. It wasn't in her character to do something without his permission, as she had always let him have free reign over his rising position in the professional world, rarely providing input.

Looking over at Sakura, she saw the girl was silently glaring at her with a look of betrayal.

Sighing, she decided to explain herself to her son first, as he deserved one from her own mother. Giving Sakura a slight nod in apology and indicating that she'd be right back, she motioned for her son to leave the piano room with her.

Once outside, Itachi pinned her with an expectant stare, one eyebrow slightly raised and both arms crossed.

"Itachi," Mikoto began gently, "I know I promised not to interfere with your life, especially after you moved out two years ago, but do you remember what I told you about your father?"

Itachi slowly nodded, not seeing where she was going.

"Well, one of the many reasons why your father quit piano was because he knew he could never achieve what your grandparents wanted. They wanted the best and," Mikoto paused here to properly word her explanation, "your father knew that although he could probably get close to fulfilling your grandparents' expectations, there were a few areas he could never match up to. His ability in playing any of Chopin's pieces for example. Your father just couldn't get along with the music composed by Chopin, and therefore did not play as enthusiastically or well as Chopin fans.

"You… are the same. Unlike your father, however, you lack in nearly all areas outside of your favorite composers. What you display in your Liszt and Mozart renditions—emotion—you lack when you play Chopin, Bach, and even Beethoven."

Seeing a flicker in her son's eyes, Mikoto hurried to elaborate.

"I'm not saying you play Chopin or Bach or Beethoven or other artists' pieces incorrectly! I'm saying that someone just as experienced could play it with more emotion, and the judges would favor your competitor or rival in such an instance. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Itachi replied while nodding slowly, "but that still does not answer the question of why you chose to put me together with one of your students in a duo competition." There was a slight inflection on the last two words as he spoke.

"Ah! Right, that's what I'm getting to. Sakura became my student about six months ago, and I believe she may be the solution to your problem! You see, unlike you, she plays with an overwhelming amount of emotion. So much, in fact, that she sometimes ends up improvising a few stanzas while she's playing! I know that you would rather overcome your weakness by yourself, but just try my way out first, alright? The competition is in three months, so if working with her doesn't work, you'll be free afterwards to do whatever you'd like."

Seeing her son consider his options and the conditions she posed, Mikoto decided to talk to Sakura in the meantime.

"I'm going back in to talk to Sakura," she informed Itachi. "Just think about what I said, alright?"

Walking back in, Mikoto saw Sakura playing a few notes in pianissimo, the sound barely making it to where she stood by the doorway.

"Sakura…" Mikoto called hesitantly.

Whipping her head around, Sakura turned to glare before her focus went back to the piano, this time playing a few notes in staccato with a slight crescendo. Mikoto knew the girl was voicing her annoyance through the sounds coming from the piano.

"Tell me, Sakura. Do you have any wishes to become famous? I'm not necessarily referring to piano specifically, but just in general. You're enrolled in a music school nearby, so you must at least have ambitions to study in music. What are your goals? How do you see yourself in the future?"

Sakura replied almost immediately.

"I want to be able to play my way; I don't want restrictions when it comes to piano. There are eighty-eight keys on this grand piano—that means there are infinite possibilities for me to discover. Changing just a few notes, adding a few stanzas, or rearranging a famous piece could change the meaning behind the piece entirely. Why do I have to abide by the rules set by a sheet of music?

"You ask if I have any wishes to become famous—of course I do! But how do I do that when I have the habit of improvising parts into performance pieces? I understand that this habit is considered demeaning and is frowned upon, but without this freedom I'm afraid I'll never reach my full potential."

It seemed as if Mikoto had let loose Sakura's passion, her student's voice bursting with pride, expectations, dreams, and future accomplishments. She could see the imaginary stars around the girl that seemed to make her eyes and body shine all the brighter before dimming at the thought of the actual path to fame and recognition. At this point, it was obvious that convincing Sakura to participate in the duo competition would be easier than she had originally expected it to be.

"Then, Sakura, why don't you want to work together with my son on this opportunity? Both of you have the talent and the skills to complement each other, if only both of you could strengthen your weaknesses."

Humming a cheery tune, Sakura began playing a lighthearted nursery rhyme on the piano while she responded.

"Why would I want to work with someone when my wishes to become famous are for myself? Working with someone who is more famous than me will only present the audience an opportunity to attack at the weaker link, and to pay closer attention to me. I want attention to bring myself higher into the world of the revered, but I want to do it myself—"

At this point, Sakura began an accelerando, easily exceeding 180 beats per minute. The notes and composition itself sounded completely improvised at this point, and Mikoto couldn't help but smile and lightly tap her foot to the quickened beat while her student continued. She also noticed that Itachi had silently entered sometime between their earlier talk and the start of Sakura's impromptu performance, but she pretended not to notice how her son's interest was piqued by the spunky girl at the piano.

"—and, most importantly, a duo competition won't let me showcase the full extent of my style of playing. Why do I have to hold back how I play when freely playing can easily sound just as good?"

"By playing music of the past, we are connecting the bridge between the musical culture in the past and that of the present and future."

Both women turned to look at Itachi as he spoke. Sakura had stopped playing to hear his words, but now she huffed, turned around, stood up, and crossed her arms challengingly to meet Itachi's gaze.

"That sounds like complete bullshit to me. I mean, how corny can you get? Everyone has to start somewhere. It's not like all the composers and artists in the past had the same benefits as us to use such a large arsenal of musical techniques. They were all influenced by past composers—and even composers in the same era—to create something new, original, and celebrated. Why can't we be unique like them?"

"I never said we couldn't compromise. I am merely stating a fact: playing the music of the past brings techniques from the past into the present, which helps us hone, improve, and create new techniques for us to incorporate into our music in the future."

Turning his attention from his future duet partner to his mother, Itachi opened his mouth to speak again.

"I am willing to participate in the duo competition with Haruno-san in three months." I see from her improvised playing what I lack, he wanted to add, but refrained as it was as if he were admitting defeat to a girl who couldn't understand the basic concept of following composers' intentions written in their musical scores.

Mikoto was delighted. Glancing over at her student, she gave an expectant look in Sakura's direction.

Rather than her previously challenging face and crossed arms, Sakura now had a pout on her face, with her arms crossed like she was a little kid unwilling to admit defeat.

Turning back to face the piano, she sat down and began to place her fingers back into position.

Before her fingers touched the keys, however, she turned her head around and said, "Fine. I'll also participate in the duo competition with Uchiha-san."

"You're playing it wrong." Itachi had a slightly frustrated tone in his voice.

"Well then, Mister Know-it-all, how do you suppose I should play this part? Certainly not the way you play it with such an unnoticeable staccato. I'd say I play it just fine, thank you very much."

"I did not imply that my playing was perfect. I am merely pointing out that you're playing it wrong." When she glared at him for the umpteenth time that hour, he continued with a slightly more resigned and mild tone. "There should be less of a staccato here… although maybe not as slight as my own," he conceded. It was unheard of for him to concede as often as he had with anyone other than perhaps his mother, but it turned out Sakura could be as stubborn as his mother.

"Fine."

She finished playing the piece while adding only a few instances of her own performance between the lines. Good enough.

He didn't like admitting when he was wrong, but he had to admit that—aside from her constantly grumpy and uncompromising mood—working with Sakura-san was easier than expected. She listened to whatever he said, making actual attempts at correcting whatever "mistakes" out of habit she knew were out of place and strongly defending the ones she felt were necessary. He, on the other hand, began to loosen up his own playing after being forced to see her point one time when their bickering lasted over ten minutes.

Recalling the time he agreed to this performance, he tried to remember the piece Sakura-san had been playing behind the closed doors of the piano room.

While pondering the decision and fully intending on rejecting to participate in the duo competition, he had heard the lighthearted nursery rhyme turn into something just as lighthearted with a much faster tempo and more defined staccato. He had never heard of the song before, but he couldn't help but admire the skill and speed at which the girl played behind the door. When he decided upon inspecting the girl while she played, he was slightly surprised to find that there was no sheet music for her to go on. Sheet music wasn't necessarily a good indicator for skill, but his mother once told him that Haruno-san was one of her newer students. Pushing his surprise aside, he assumed that the girl had composed the piece herself, considering the fervor to which she replied to his mother's questions with her thoughts on creativity and uniqueness.

After pointing out some of the most basic reasons for why to follow rigid techniques over improvisation, Sakura-san put her fingers back into position. Before she played a single note, however, he heard her mutter to herself, "Now how should I play this next?" Humming an unfamiliar tune under her breath, she closed her eyes and let the weight of her fingers press down onto the keys.

Never in his entire life had he seen someone turn to play a song created on the spot from vague guidelines, using imagination to fill the lines on the non-existent sheets of music, so smoothly. It seemed almost natural to her as she transitioned without missing a beat.

His mother mentioned on numerous occasions over dinner about one particular female student who refused to cooperate. After months of trying and failing, she came to dinner one day with a flushed, excited appearance, exclaiming that she had found herself a daughter from another mother. Mildly interested in her unusual statement, he had asked her to elaborate. She had told him that her one rebellious student had finally played a piece worth praising and was further surprised to learn that her student first started learning in middle school. Most of his mother's students were beyond skilled—it was the only way for her to restrict the number of students she could take—and thus most started piano before kindergarten. For a student who started learning so late to impress his mother was rare indeed.

And it seemed as if he would have to work together with his supposed sister from another mother, as her mother put it. He inwardly marveled at the skill the woman had and the energy she exuded, even feeling a little anticipation at getting the opportunity to play alongside her.

"Itachi-san?"

Head tilted up at the man standing by the piano seat, Sakura peered up at Itachi, a questioning look on her face as she attempted to get his attention. Snapping out of his thoughts, Itachi met her eyes, an eyebrow raised.

"Was there something you wanted to ask?"

"Well, duh," Sakura replied, testing his patience. Before he could ask what she wanted, she continued. "It's already been nearly a month since we were registered for this competition—without our consent, I might add—yet all we've done these past four weeks is practice Bach, Chopin, and Liszt compositions! Don't get me wrong, I don't mind Bach, Chopin, or Liszt, but shouldn't we be focusing on potential pieces to play at the competition?"

Standing up, Sakura moved to flip open the piano seat which acted a storage unit for loose papers and old recital pieces. Picking up the manila folder at the top of the stack of papers, Sakura handed it over to Itachi before sitting back down.

"These are some of the pieces I considered for this competition. A lot of them involve a lot of emotion, which I know you don't have"—at this Itachi lips thinned in annoyance—"but there are a few that combine elements that we both enjoy playing or have mastered fairly well. Take a look over them, since I reviewed these with Mikoto-san and have had them all approved of already."

Surprised at how prepared and assertive she was being with this competition, Itachi opened the folder and skimmed through titles and composers. As she said, most duets involved expressing some emotion, while others were too slow for Sakura's taste. A fair compilation, yet the problem lay with which song to choose.

Fortunately, Itachi was one step ahead.

"I have already gone through most of the pieces you have compiled together on my own, and while I agree that most could work in terms of our teamwork and harmony, they aren't up to standard."

Outraged, Sakura jumped up with her right index finger extended at him.

"You—"

She was about to start jabbing him in the chest, but he grabbed her wrist and cut her off.

"I didn't agree to enter this competition with you for experience—I agreed only because I wish to win. I admit that these pieces will impress the judges, but I'm aiming for something that can impress us as well. Don't you wish for the same?" Sakura retracted her finger, her eyes giving away her curiosity. Itachi continued. "When you argued against teaming up with me a month ago, you said that a duo competition wouldn't let you showcase the full extent of your own style of playing. What if there's a song that lets us both shine individually, yet requires us to work as a team?"

Sakura huffed.

"Like that exists."

"You'd be surprised…"

Sakura gave a suspicious glance at the smirk on his face.

"You… You already have a piece in mind, don't you?" When he said nothing in response, Sakura lost her patience. "Well, spit it out."

"Bach's The Great Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor."

He had a smug look about his face, as if to challenge her into arguing. Sakura certainly didn't need any goading on his part.

"But that's a solo piece, and it's normally played on the organ! You can't possibly expect us to turn that piece into some sort of presentable duet, much less edit and master our revised version when we have other things to focus on outside of our musical lives!"

Huffing, Sakura crossed her arms, sitting back down on the piano seat and giving him an impatient look. Having expected a similar outburst, Itachi responded with ease.

"Unlike you, I have already graduated from university and am not pursuing any formal further studies. The work I have is what I choose to do. Although I do have outside obligations to teach classes each week and to play host to my mother's acquaintances every so often, my schedule is considered relaxing compared to yours. As long as you can provide input with your creative improvisations by writing them down on score sheets, I can handle the rest." He handed over a clear plastic folder over to her. "Here's what I have so far. We will create a polished version within a few weeks. The remaining time we will spend focusing on nitpicking how to play certain verses and transitional stanzas."

Sakura stared at him in awe. It was such an optimistic plan, one that could easily take longer due to unintended delays, but the confidence he exuded while glossing over the details led her to believe that they could actually finish earlier than his already optimistic schedule.

She didn't want to admit it, but the Uchiha family was incredible.

fugue: noun. a musical composition characterized by systematic imitation of one or more themes in counterpoint, the art of combining different melodic lines in a musical composition.

Force the pair together and you will have the perfect duet.

Mikoto chose a seat in the center middle of the giant auditorium. Sitting towards the front also meant being eye-level with the stage floor, something she never enjoyed, even if one could gauge the judges' responses better. She preferred to see what was happening from above—not too far away to keep an eye on both the contestant and the judges, but also high enough to have to look down slightly at the stage before her. The seats were, after all, arranged so that the back seats were much, much higher than those in the front.

Next to her was an empty seat she originally saved for her husband, but since Fugaku had a last-minute change in schedule, he was over in Germany for the week. Sasuke displayed no interest in attending and instead was off participating in another scrimmage, not that Mikoto expected him to attend anyway. After all, why else would she only get two tickets? Promising to tell her husband about how successful their son's performance went, Mikoto opted instead to bring a camera recorder with an unobtrusive tripod. With the seats needing weight to maintain its right angle, she used the space between the empty seat and the seat in front of it to set up the camera.

Once she finished, she began to fidget.

Mikoto was rarely nervous.

If anything, she was excited in the face of a challenge. In this case, however, she had not only signed her student and her son up without their permissions, but she also took a back seat on helping them prepare, instead allowing them to experiment on their own. She could tell they had the musical chemistry to pull themselves through, and she didn't want to interfere.

But even more than interfering, Mikoto wanted to see if her hunch was correct: Was Sakura really the key to Itachi's problem? Was Itachi the force that could give Sakura a push in the right direction?

It was certainly interesting to see two people who had the potential to affect each other's lives in such a monumental way, and she looked forwards to seeing the fruits of their labor.

On the other hand, she was still nervous.

It wasn't every day where she could not tell whether the ones she supported would—or even could—perform well in the competition, when such a thing was normally natural for her to know.

"Next up: number 39, Itachi Uchiha and Sakura Haruno playing a revised duet of The Great Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, titled Fantasia and Fugue."

Murmurs travelled through the audience. For those who knew the piece, they knew the… inapplicability of the piece in a duo competition. Even in solo competitions the song was rarely played. What had her son been scheming during the last three months? This certainly wasn't a plan Sakura could have thought of, though now that she thought about it, incorporating Sakura's improvisation habits might actually work.

The audience hushed as the lights dimmed and focused on the stage. When the curtains pulled open, Mikoto eyes went wide.

Itachi had offered Sakura his hand, placing it under hers while leading her over to the two pianos that sat in the middle of the stage. In an act of pure chivalry, he guided her to left side, only seating himself after seeing to his partner's needs.

Well, wasn't this a development? Mikoto thought.

Sakura began playing the melody, the light and happy notes bouncing off her fingers as the fantasia portion of the duet began. Her eyes were closed and her body made subtle rolls and swishes to the music. Itachi soon accompanied her with a mellow harmony that aimed to add seriousness to the completely carefree melody. His perfect posture, ingrained into him as a child, had him upright as he played, a perfect imitation of his father.

Mikoto smiled as she watched the duo progress through the song, noticing especially how Sakura never failed to keep to the original piece and how her son would loosen his wrist slightly when it came for him to play the staccato. They certainly found what they were missing—there was no doubt about that.

The only question left, then, was whether the judges would agree with this revised rendition of Fantasia and Fugue. Closing her eyes and letting the music surround her, she didn't have a problem with the way they played. It was better than what both could do alone and together they made a formidable duo.

As the pair played the last note, the audience seemed to hang in suspense as the pair met silence at the end of their performance.

Mikoto slowly opened her eyes, realizing that the song was over. Looking around, it appeared that the rest of the audience was also just coming out of a dream-like state. The feeling of being able to soak up the sounds was what brought people to listen to competitions in the first place, after all.

While silence sometimes meant pity or sympathy for a terrible performance, it could also mean the end of a beautiful performance. In this case, the audience's reaction was the latter, as they were stunned into silence.

Mikoto, soon joined by the rest of the crowd, began to clap. The claps increased in volume, and there were even some inappropriate whoops and cat-calls by the end, which were rare in a piano competition. It was an obvious sign that everyone wanted an encore, though they weren't allowed at this particular competition due to time constraints.

By now, her son had taken Sakura's hand again, leading her to the front of the stage where, while holding hands, they both proceeded to bow. When they both came back up to stare at the overly supportive audience, Mikoto could see Sakura's eyes shining brighter than before, tears of happiness threatening to fall. Her student was certainly introducing herself spectacularly into the world of elites.

What interested her the most, however, was the way her son looked at Sakura.

Love.

If there was one easy way to describe the look on his face, that was it.

It was subtle but unmistakable.

She was sure others in the audience realized and at least a quarter were probably quite surprised. Itachi wasn't known for displaying his emotions freely. The fact that he was showing it in public meant worlds to anyone who had crossed paths with her son.

Her smile couldn't get any bigger as the clapping continued—it had already been a minute, and it didn't sound like the audience was going to stop.

She didn't know who started it, but somewhere to her left farther behind her began to chant two words that quickly caught like wildfire.

"Kiss her!"

When the chant began to eclipse the clapping sounds, Mikoto saw Sakura blush before looking at Itachi.

Itachi was a little taken aback with the audience's request, oblivious to the expression that was previously on his face.

He quickly recovered as the words sunk in.

Looking at his partner, he looped the hand that wasn't already holding hers behind her neck before pressing their lips together.

It took another minute for the cheers to die down when Sakura brought her own hand up and ran through his hair.

The competition ended an hour later.

Needless to say, they won the competition.

I cannot believe it took me over a year to find enough motivation to finish this story. Don't mind the cheesy ending! I had no idea what to do LOL.

Please leave a comment. :)