Since she was young, Sakura could always sense when something was amiss.

It worked like this: a prickly feeling crawled underneath her skin, manifesting out of nowhere and gradually – sometimes rapidly – expanding until she knew what caused it. It's the feeling she had when she got ready to school like usual only to be notified later by Iruka-sensei that their class would have a surprise test. Or on one sunny day, Team Seven departed for a simple escort job – Naruto and Sasuke-kun bickering back and forth while Kakashi-sensei ignored them both – only to encounter a dangerous missing-nin and their mission ended with the almost-death of Sasuke-kun.

It's also the feeling she had when she first met face-to-face with Uchiha Shisui.

Looking at the pleasant smile he flashed at her – not a blinding grin like Naruto but his lips stretched up wide enough to show perfect white teeth and there were subtle crinkles around his eyes – for the life of her, she couldn't pinpoint what unsettled her so.

Uchiha Shisui was someone whose reputation preceded the man himself, making Sakura felt like she had known him even before Sasuke-kun introduced them. He was well-known for his superb skills and total devotion to his job. She hadn't witnessed him in combat but if Sasuke-kun grumbly retelling how he defeated Itachi-san was anything to go by then he must be terrific. And his devotion was something even the naked eyes could see. He was one of the most active members of the Military Police Force, never rejecting any request – big or small – for his help. He was a paragon of reliability, diligence, friendliness, humility.

So much perfection in a single person.

Sakura had never seen anything capable of marring the radiance that Uchiha Shisui exuded. Not those green-eyed colleagues of his, whispering how he was a monster underneath his human skin, how it's unnatural to be so magnificent behind his back. Not even the large number of people that flocked to his side without hesitation. No matter what was said to the Uchiha, he always responded with a smile.

There was something unnerving about a person who didn't react the slightest to insult or encouragement.

One could chalk it up to being shinobi, a profession that required you to suppress your feelings but Sakura knew better. Some were more proficient than others but no one was able to conceal their feelings completely. Even the most hardened shinobi – impassive face, tight jaw, stern eyes – were not expressionless if you were adept at knowing where to look. It showed in the faint upward curve of their mouth, the small crease between their brows, the split second in which their fingers twitched.

It's a nothing with Uchiha Shisui.

His usual demeanor never wavered, not in his body language and especially not in his pleasant smile.

At times Sakura would sneak glances at his eyes to gauge what he truly felt because, as people said, eyes were the windows to the soul. She didn't like what she saw. His pitch-black eyes seemed to look past things, over them, beyond them, through them but never at them. There was nothing reflected in that abyss.

Uchiha Shisui was a perfect shinobi – a void – hiding behind his smile.

By the time Team Seven had become young adults, he was Naruto's definition of cool guy, Sasuke-kun's irritating cousin whom he grudgingly admitted might be stronger than his older brother, and an Uchiha-san that Sakura couldn't look in the eyes.

This irrational uneasiness – the man had ever been polite to Sakura – followed her till the moment she went on her first mission with him.

Being in a same team with him solidified what she always heard but never witnessed. The man was spectacular in combat. Seeing him in action – fluid yet powerful – was almost like a privilege. He walked into battles with the same demeanor as in his daily life – deceptively easy-going posture and a smile that never quite left his face. The only difference, she thought, might be the glint in his normally blank eyes. It was rare in existence and she had seen it many a time in other strong shinobi's eyes to know what triggered it: watching a power that thrilled them and shook their entire core and they couldn't wait to test their strength against it.

It had been almost a decade since Sakura first knew of Uchiha Shisui and the only time he showed something close to an emotion – excitement perhaps – was when the glint in his eyes eventually bled to madly spinning crimson and he was ready to strike.

At those times, Sakura hazily remembered the vicious whispers often trailing after him.

This perfect monster shinobi, can barely keep his human form.

.

.

.

"Oh, it's the hospital's darling."

At Ino's amused voice, Sakura looked up from the chart she was reading and followed her friend's line of sight. Several feet away from where they stood, with his typical dark Uchiha attire sticking out like a sore thumb among the pristine white of the hospital, was her occasional captain talking to a flustered nurse.

"Darling?" she dumbly asked, her eyes still stuck on the scene before her. The nurse was blushing even harder when he smiled at her.

"Ah, you're not in charge of regular check-ups anymore." Ino laughed. "Anyway, right there is the staffs' super-duper darling. You don't have to pull death threat on him to get him follow instructions."

"Plus," she could hear the mischievous grin in the blonde's voice, "that pretty face sure helps relieve stress on our female staffs."

Sakura would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't too focused on her captain waving goodbye at the nurse. He was about to walk away when suddenly, as if summoned by a spell, he turned around and locked eyes with her. Feeling like she had been caught red-handed – ridiculous, really – she quickly nodded at him, to which he returned the gesture, then she turned on her heels, pulling Ino along with her.

Sakura could feel his eyes – those black, black eyes – burning on her back.

Her steps quickened.

.

.

.

Whoever told her that with time she would get used to death was a liar.

Looking at the bloody trail that led to her comrade's body, she didn't feel like the doctor who had been in this field for years but the girl who lost her first patient at fourteen.

(When it happened, she stood shell-shocked next to the emergency bed, her jumbled mind trying to comprehend how just a second before there was still the sound of a beating heart and the next only silence remained. Some of her seniors harshly shouted 'get over it' and 'you still have work to do'. The kinder ones offered a pat on the back telling her she had tried her best. She screamed internally, how could it be best if there was a life lost?

Later she remembered staggering back to her resting room at the hospital, throwing away the blood-stained clothes and scrubbing herself clean under the scalding shower. Then she pulled out of her secret cupboard the sake bottle she stole from Tsunade-shishou, as to prevent the older woman from drinking in working hours, and drank herself to oblivion uncaring that she was too young to consume alcohol.

One was never too young to drown in sorrow, anyway.

She woke up in the next morning with a severe headache – enough for her to never consume alcohol so carelessly again – that was healed immediately with a few flicks of her hand but – she almost vomited – she could still smell blood on her among the overwhelming alcohol stench and she could still see crimson lines marking her skin creases. Was it her imagination or reality she didn't know.

But what she did know, was that she would never get used to death.)

Slow steps took her to the unlucky teammate – there was no need to hurry because you didn't have to be a doctor to know this was a lost cause. There was no saving a person whose eyeballs was sticking out of the slimy mess from his brain and limbs bending like a broken doll.

She thought, with bitterness, horrid states of the body were something she did get used to.

Per regulation, this was the moment she would dispose of his body after analyzing the cause of his death to write a proper report. This was all a shinobi's life came down to: not a name and a face but a rank, a list of abilities, a reason on why they stopped being shinobi – resignation or death or anything in between. However, Sakura knew. She knew the hand of the mangled body that she was holding once belonged to a man named Kazuya. He had untamed brown hair, too serious dark brown eyes, a tendency to snore loud enough while sleeping, and a little sister to return to.

And he would return to her, to home. Sakura would make sure of that.

In the midst of her depressed musing, she was still acutely aware of the presence that had come with her to this scene. She knew what he was thinking even without turning back to face him. Itachi-san had expressed his concern when she joined his squad because the perfect shinobi expected his subordinates to uphold all that a shinobi embodied and God knew Haruno Sakura – dedicated, disciplined little Sakura – couldn't fucking follow the rules when it counted.

Apprehension spread within her while almost inaudible footsteps approaching. She braced herself for whatever he intended to throw at her...

...only to almost jump when he touched her shoulder.

How can his hand be so warm?

This must be a stupid thing to think of but for the longest time, Haruno Sakura had always equaled Uchiha Shisui with a void, an abyss, a nothingness. Those things weren't supposed to possess warmth. Yet here he was, with no reprimand that she was so sure he would want to say out loud and a warm rough hand that was steadfast on its hold of her shoulder.

Her shaking subsided, however slight.

.

.

.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, finding it hard to believe what she had just heard.

"Shisui-kun requested you for his team." Minato-san easily repeated, his eyes crinkled. "Your performance must be very impressive for him to make that decision."

She doubted it. It had come as a surprise when her captain didn't say anything about her brief breakdown and her insistence on bringing Kazuya-san back, despite their rules dictating the opposite. While he might not chide her for her actions, there was nothing to suggest that he thought highly of what she did. Based on his reputation – and maybe a bit of her prejudice – she had a good guess of his opinion.

"What do you think, Sakura-chan? You still have the right to refuse. I know Naruto can be quite a pain," there was mirth in Minato-san's voice, "when it comes to Team Seven members being part of other teams."

Well, that's true. Naruto was very adamant about Team Seven sticking together. Generally, she only reacted with affectionate exasperation; troublesome and frustrating her boys were, they were her best friends, her second family. But, sometimes, she did want more. She wanted to expand her horizon, to see what she was capable of beyond being a nice fitting piece to Team Seven. In spite of her wariness towards a certain Uchiha, she was elated for being chosen, even if just temporary, to be in one of the most accomplished teams in Konoha. Yes, the missions were hard but Haruno Sakura never backed out from a challenge and a chance to come out of her comfort zone. She wouldn't mind extending her stay in that team.

(Somewhere at the back of her mind, though, remembered the phantom warmth on her shoulder.)

"It's okay, Minato-san. Naruto is nothing I can't handle." She grinned. "I accept."

Minato-san laughed. "That's Sakura-chan for you. I guess I'll have to endure my son whining for the time being then."

"But," he laced his fingers together and put them under his chin, "I have to say while unexpected this is certainly a good thing. Watch over Shisui-kun and report to me if problems occur, will you?"

His eyes were now forming slits that you could no longer see their clear blue color and his thin lips were stretching into a pleasant smile. The implication of his words wasn't lost on anyone. Sakura knew, without a doubt, that 'Minato-san' – the soft-spoken man she had known since childhood, who bought her sweetened apple candy at festivals – had just been replaced by 'Hokage-sama', whose hand when he put it through the enemy's chest was as firm as when he held little Naruto and led him through the crowd.

She returned his smile with one of her own, "I understand."

Then she bowed deeply and left the room.

This was what a shinobi came down to.

.

.

.

Being in her captain's team was almost a blessing.

As expected, the team training was now part of her schedule. They usually met several times a week; sometimes all members were present, other times there were specific individuals focusing on specific exercises. And Sakura was wrong before. Watching Uchiha Shisui fight wasn't a privilege; watching him spar, was. In real-life combat one didn't have time to admire and feel the full extent of a strike until it hit the opponent, or them, a bit too hard. But when there was no life-or-death situation, no urgency to make quick – and at times, wrong – decisions, she could sit at a vantage point and appreciate the gracefulness that was her captain.

At the moment, she was observing with bated breath the taijutsu match between him and another teammate – Tatsuya, sandy hair, upright face with an attitude to match. Tatsuya-san's arm shot out at Uchiha-taichou's throat, only for him to slip to the side and simultaneously catch his opponent's wrist. A deft kick to the legs and her teammate lay flat on the ground with a tantou blade drawing drops of blood from his thick neck and a captain looking down impassively. All that seemed to happen in a single movement, a blink of the eyes, a split second.

Sakura released the breath she had been holding; she had sat like a statue in fear of missing anything crucial from the fight. There was an emotion resonated deep within her that felt like admiration. Because she recognized the sound of his smooth moves. Because she remembered the million times she listened to it while watching Lee-san, a boy with a funny haircut and an even funnier outfit, effortlessly do swift swinging of the arms and noiseless footsteps on the ground as if he was just breathing.

Ah, she thought, that is the sound of endless practice.

Inborn talent and heritage was no doubt an advantage but it could only get you so far. People reached the top by sweating and bleeding; no one stood above everyone without a sacrifice in some shape or form. Wasn't this one of the reasons that made little Sakura love Sasuke-kun, the Uchiha clan head's second son, the one grew up in praises, the one spent extra hours to perfect a simple jutsu?

Sakura was still wary of Uchiha-taichou but this, this dedication, was something she would not deny.

She didn't know what prompted him to choose her but no matter the reason, she wouldn't make a person she admired – albeit reluctantly – disappointed. That's the mindset she had when it's her turn to spar with Tatsuya-san. She poured into this match the concentration she displayed in surgeries; the highest form of deadly accuracy, leaving no room for mistakes. Part of her also felt exhilarating to fight someone she wasn't accustomed to. As powerful and cheeky Naruto and Sasuke-kun were in combat, Team Seven members knew each other so well that they often predicted more or less correctly what the others had up their sleeves. It somewhat defeated one of the purposes of training which was preparation for real combat against enemy, most of whom weren't even your acquaintances to begin with.

(She didn't want to think otherwise.)

At the end of their match, with her trying to balance her breath and Tatsuya-san leaning on the only tree that survived her vicious attacks, she couldn't help but feel proud. After her apprenticeship under Tsunade-shishou, she was no longer the little girl whose teammates jumped in front of her to protect her from the scary, scary world. Since then she began a streak of having more wins and draws than losses. Yet that particular detail of her past – the helpless twelve year old – claimed a small but permanent place inside her, making every achievement feel like milestone and proof of the long way she had walked on.

The feeling of satisfaction, however, was short-lived because she was never one to bath too long in the afterglow of victory. Her posture tensed once more as her eyes critically assessed the training ground and her mind relived the match to find any mistake she might have overlooked. So focused in her task she was that she completely forgot her captain's presence. It's only when he came near that she was alerted, jumping a little in surprise.

Her eyes darted to him then quickly turned back to Tatsuya-san. Damn it, she truly felt like the twelve-year-old girl looking back at her master for approval after healing a fish.

"Well done, Haruno-san."

Sakura jerked her head so fast that the musculature of her neck hurt, but she thought it's her ears that needed to be checked. Uchiha-taichou – the shinobi who never harshly reprimanded his subordinates but neither did he ever praise them individually – just gave her a compliment. She spent several moments being awestruck till she realized she hadn't heard wrongly. A bubbly happiness bloomed inside her that might make her a little delirious because after years spent on avoiding the eyes of the man standing beside her, she found herself meeting his dark depths.

Maybe it's the trick of the light, or the angle, but his eyes didn't look so much like an endless abyss anymore.

They were like simmering charcoal, waiting to be set ablaze.

.

.

.

Somebody needs to be more discreet in his staring.

Sakura glanced sideways at one Uchiha captain, who was staring rather unapologetically at her talking to Tatsuya-san about poisons. Their eyes locked but he gave no indication of someone being caught staring. His eyes – the light from their campfire made it look like there were tiny flames dancing in them – kept looking at her with an intensity that was familiar in other Uchiha but not this particular one.

Ever since she officially joined his team, the man confused her more than unsettled her. One moment he was the Uchiha that she had always been wary of – familiar with – and the next he became someone so alien; the warm hand on her shoulder, the unusual compliment, and all those stares that he really needed to be more subtle about. She honestly didn't know what to make of it, because she spent a better part of her childhood tip-toeing around him.

Maybe he was not the only one that never truly looked at people.

So she took it upon herself to unabashedly watch him while it's her turn to guard and everyone was sleeping – she still had tact, really. Her captain was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed, his head inclined downwards a little, and his breath in a steady rhythm. He looked almost relaxed.

Almost.

(A few weeks ago, their team also had to rest at night in a forest. His shift was after hers so she thought it's only proper for her to wake him up. Her arm reached out, intending to gently tap on his shoulder. Faster than she could blink she was lying flat on the ground, broken tree branches poking at her back. Her wrist was caught in a painful twist and her captain's face hovered above hers. His eyes weren't fully opened, they had the dazed look of someone who had yet regained consciousness.

They also looked so tired.

"Haruno-san?" he mumbled as he slowly let go of her bruised wrist. "Sorry, it seems that I…overslept."

Then he got off of her and took his shift like nothing happened. She was later told by Tatsuya-san that it's a normal occurrence. Tatsuya-san had said, with no short amount of admiration, their captain was a true shinobi, always on high alert and never dropping his guard.

Even among comrades?

She wanted to ask but the words stayed with her.)

Looking at her sleeping captain, she remembered all the times he insisted on going last and letting his clone lead their formation. She, and the team, always thought he wanted to watch their backs as per a captain's duty. But, perhaps, he just didn't want them to watch his back.

There was something heartbreaking about it.

Her eyes moved from his tightly crossed arms to the dark skin area below his eyes. His bags weren't too terrible but they are considerably visible. She wasn't sure if they had just appeared recently or they had always been there.

Either way, she decided, it's time for a check-up.

.

.

.

At fifteen to eight, Sakura was done reading the medical record of her captain. Now she understood why he was considered the hospital's darling. No missed session, following doctors' instruction to a T, polite and nice according to the extra giddy notes of some nurses. Uchiha Shisui, no matter what he did, seemed to walk straight out of a textbook.

If so then who wrote the book and created his character?

She didn't know why she suddenly had such a funny thought. It was cut short, though, when the door opened. Eight o'clock sharp, Uchiha-taichou walked in.

Sakura instantly straightened herself and her lips curved into a professional smile.

"Good morning, Taichou."

He blinked, clearly not expecting her; but he didn't say anything and simply sat on the examination table like she told him to. She then instructed him to strip down to his boxer. He did so, his sinewy muscles rippled with every movement. Sakura stepped closer to the table to stand between his legs, mindful to keep a small distance. Her hands were covered in a green glow and she started her assessment.

Uchiha Shisui was one tall man with his build leaned more on the bulky side but not too much. His shoulders were broader than her teammates, or even Kakashi-sensei, yet he still retained a lean image overall. Unlike many shinobi that was littered with scars, he had so few of them. The scars he did have, though, were deep and ghastly – the opponent must be dangerously good to cause Uchiha Shisui wounds like that. While she kept her hands several centimeters above wherever she was checking, from time to time they would graze briefly against his slightly tanned skin. The feeling under the tips of her fingers informed her that this body was diamond in the guise of flesh.

The body of someone who had practiced the ninja art since he was barely aware of his surroundings.

Her hands moved up to his face, her eyes following them only to find a pair of charcoal eyes staring right back at hers. The green glow flickered before she quickly regained her control. The man didn't seem to notice her momentary slip, he kept looking at her as if in a trance. She didn't know how to feel about it so she chose to ignore him and focused on the task at hand. Somewhere in the back of her mind vaguely realized this was the first time she'd seen him up close. Her glowing hands slid over sharp jawlines, well-defined lips, a straight but somewhat broad nose, then they stopped at his eyes. Every time she inserted her chakra into them, his eyelashes – longer than a man's eyelashes had the right to be – fluttered, temporarily hiding the dark depths that seemed to pull people in if they looked for too long.

At the end of her assessment, Sakura had to hastily move herself away from Uchiha Shisui. She took several seconds to calm her heart. After a few quiet inhales and exhales, her composure came back. She proceeded to note down on her clipboard what she had found, which was practically nothing. Her captain was in perfect health. That meant his state of unrest was most likely caused by his mind more than anything else.

She had a pretty good guess what it was but decided to ask for the sake of conversation anyway.

"You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

Her captain didn't reply right away. It took a moment for his lips to stretch into his customary smile and he answered.

"Surely I'm not that obvious?"

Sakura resisted the urge to raise her brows high up her big forehead at his light tone. A great shinobi Uchiha Shisui was, he wasn't the first to use the change in tone to divert attention. She had seen many shinobi as well as civilians favor this tactic. Besides, she wasn't Hatake Kakashi's student for nothing. Her captain got nothing on her old teacher in this department. Still, if she was right about his reason then he wouldn't divulge further information to her.

So she played along with him.

"Ah Taichou, the first lesson we learn as medics is to see what the patients don't show or talk about. But," she smirked, "if it helps you to sleep better at night, then I have to say you're one of the best at pretending you're fine."

To her surprise, he laughed. It was low and short but undoubtedly relaxed and more genuine than any of his perpetual smiles. For a split second, her heart leapt at the unexpected sound. Sakura mentally shook her head – now was not the time to be charmed.

She moved to her desk. "Still, we'll have to do something about your problem."

She shuffled the drawers for a while before pulling out a small transparent bottle with little red pills inside it.

"This is something I make." Pride swelled in her chest, "It eases your tenseness and makes sleep come easier but unlike soporific drugs, it doesn't increase drowsiness so that you aren't able to react appropriately to any possible threat."

She presented the bottle for her captain and, like any other time she had the chance to introduce her much loved creations, she eagerly added, "Besides, I even make it sweet."

Uchiha-taichou responded with silence. As the clock ticked by, she was increasingly embarrassed, wondering if she was a bit too much in her excitement. She tried to save face with a sheepish, "You don't like sweets, Taichou?"

Her captain really didn't help with his continuing silence. But when she chanced a glance at him, she was struck by how blank he looked. Like he couldn't comprehend what she'd asked. Like he didn't know how to answer her.

Has anyone ever asked him what he likes?

This was Uchiha Shisui – the man who recited the shinobi rules like he religiously chanted them every day, who could provide insightful replies to any jutsu-related questions, who was one of the sharpest individuals she'd ever met. Yet he wasn't able to say if he liked sweets or not.

Her heart squeezed painfully.

Sakura's gaze softened, her voice was gentle when she spoke again. "You can try it, Taichou. And if it's not up to your taste," a sincere grin that she never showed the man in front of her made its way to her lips, "I'm sure I can make something specifically for you."

After she said her offer, Uchiha-taichou slowly redressed himself and walked towards her. He took the bottle from her hand, his fingers fleetingly brushed against hers, and he smiled. It wasn't his usual big, pleasant smile. It was small – just a faint upwards curve of the mouth – but it's there.

"Haruno-san, thank you."

.

.

.

That night, the lingering warmth on her fingers and memory of a half-smile kept her awake till the first sunlight danced through her window.

.

.

.

She didn't expect anyone when she went to Hokage Mountain so her eyes understandably widened at the sight of her captain casually eating his lunch while looking ahead. She debated whether she should approach him or not. He obviously wanted to enjoy his meal in peace if his choice of place was any indication. At the same time, though, when she looked at him from afar like this, he seemed to turn into a black dot being swallowed by the grand scenery around him.

He looked very small and very lonely.

Now that she thought of it, she rarely saw him with anyone in a personal setting. There were many people who looked up to him but there was almost no one he enjoyed little pleasures in life with; strolling around the village, chatting in a teashop, or simply watching life went by from a rooftop. Itachi-san might be the closest thing to a friend for him but the atmosphere between them always had a muted serious undertone that it couldn't be comfortable for both of them. Furthermore Sasuke-kun loved to hog his older brother's attention so they probably didn't spend much time together anyway.

She wondered what Uchiha-taichou did, and felt, in the absence of people.

Before she could have second thought, her feet brought her to him as she voiced her greeting.

"You're eating lunch here too, Taichou?"

He turned to her just as she sat down away from him, trying not to invade his personal space.

"Ah yes, I often bring my lunch here. It has nice view."

You were looking rather hard at your 'nice view', Sakura thought but didn't say. Instead she let a comfortable silence envelop them while they were eating their respective lunch. After a while, surprisingly, it's Uchiha-taichou who broke the silence.

"Did you put plum in your sleeping pill, Haruno-san?"

She instantly looked up and saw him glancing down at her half-eaten umeboshi. Her visage shone. He did use it! And it's not every day that someone recognized her secret recipe!

"You noticed, Taichou?"

He nodded. "The taste is faint but I'm quite sure it is plum."

She hummed her confirmation, "Yes, it is. It's a great fruit, you know."

"Do you like plum?"

"One of my favorite foods is umeboshi but I like plum in general." She replied while using her chopsticks to play with the umeboshi in her bento, "Great savor and tons of health benefits. I try to add it in many things."

Then she couldn't help but smile widely, "Besides, some people say plum tree symbolizes happiness and good fortune and who wouldn't want that from time to time?"

There it was. On Uchiha-taichou's face was the half-smile that made her stay awake through the night some weeks ago, that did funny things to her heart now.

"Indeed."

After that they returned to eating in silence – Sakura was in dire need of it to calm her silly heart. Then she realized something out of the blue: her captain had chosen to sit on Nidaime-sama's stony head. Usually people didn't pay much attention to the Grumpy White Furry Ball – dubbed by her much respected master. This piqued her curiosity.

"Taichou, is Nidaime-sama your favorite Hokage?" she tentatively asked.

"What makes you think so?" His tone suggested that she was being very random.

Sakura subconsciously scratched the back of her head.

"Oh, you chose to sit on his head. Normally when people come here, they pick their favorite Hokage or the one they think was the coolest." And to most people, Nidaime-sama is just another name in history. She frowned at her own thought. "And I don't see people favor Nidaime-sama that often so I'm a bit curious."

"He was a formidable shinobi. My parents admired him."

His response was almost immediate and sounded more personal than it should, given how he didn't really answer her question. But, Sakura felt this was his 'personal space', one she didn't have the right to step into. So like before she accepted his reply as it was with a nod of her head.

"What about you? Do you admire him?" Of course he would return her curiosity.

She deliberated over his question. In her mind, the isolated Uchiha compound appeared; a reminder of how someone she once admired had disappointed her. Nevertheless, one of his decisions allowed her a chance to stand where she was. And she would always thank him for that.

She carefully said, "Rather than admire, I would say I'm grateful to him."

"Grateful?" There was an edge in Uchiha-taichou's voice that she couldn't name.

"Yes," she honestly affirmed. "Do you know that when our village had just been founded, the Academy only opened to clans' children? However, Nidaime-sama reformed the education system and allowed children from civilian families to enroll."

She smiled, thinking of how her younger self used to sigh in relief every now and then while mentally thanking the Hokage for his decision. "If it's not for his policy, I wouldn't be able to become a shinobi."

"Why did you want to become a shinobi?"

Uchiha-taichou's unexpected question pulled her out of her reminiscence. Her mouth slightly opened due to the suddenness of it, and truly, it mortified her. Sakura's face burnt at the prospect of telling him. She didn't feel shame but the reason was definitely…embarrassing. She considered coming up with some grandiose motivations like making the world a better place or becoming the strongest shinobi ever. However, her captain's expression was serious and intense like her answer somehow was important to him. That's why she swallowed her embarrassment and revealed the truth in the smallest voice possible.

"When I was eight, I saw Sasuke-kun and Itachi-san practice by chance. Their movements were beautiful it enchanted me so much that I rushed home and told my parents I wanted to be a ninja."

"And your parents didn't object to it?"

Sakura's face heated up even more, remembering how she threw a tantrum by locking herself in her room until her parents had to concede defeat. "I can be quite…stubborn when I want to."

She didn't dare to look at her captain because she's sure her face was now the shade of Sasuke-kun's favorite tomato. When she peeked up at him, though, she saw no trace of someone trying to contain their laughter for politesse's sake. Just the face of someone who was expressing their honest admiration – made her question his definition of admirable – with vague hints of fondness. Her treacherous heart quickened again and she found the need to say something to distract herself.

"Anyway," she coughed, "in hindsight, someone as pragmatic as Nidaime-sama probably did that because he wanted to expand the ninja population."

She once gushed to Tsunade-shishou about how very encouraging her granduncle had been, allowing civilian kids like her a chance at greatness. Her master gave her an utterly unimpressed face and she looked like she was debating whether to deal a fatal blow or not. In the end, Tsunade-shishou was never one to shy away from being blunt and told her exactly what she just told Uchiha-taichou.

Sakura remembered being completely crestfallen. She recalled how after entering the ninja world for a childish and naïve reason, she realized she was at a disadvantage compared to her peers that came from the clans. How she wasn't prepared but those kids had been storing ninja tricks up their sleeve since they could walk. How she became frustrated, upset, and disappointed with herself. Then the thing that initially kept her going turned out to be an innocent misbelief as proven by Tsunade-shishou. But. It also made her tears stop falling in those nights when the sadness was too much to contain within her tiny body. And it's still one of the reasons why she's now able to smile fondly at her memories.

"But, at the beginning, it's nice to think that a great shinobi like him saw potential in normal kids like me."

In all honesty, she no longer harbored the deep insecurity and inferiority complex she once had. Her words were simply nostalgia of a once upon a time childhood, not an ounce of bitterness in them. It took her completely by surprise when Uchiha-taichou spoke, voice strong and full of conviction like he dared her to contradict him.

"Either way, I'd say Nidaime-sama reached his goal. Two third of our village citizens are shinobi and we have you as a combat-medical ninja on par with Tsunade-hime."

His burning charcoal eyes – unwavering and relentless – told her that he wasn't humoring her. This was a truth he absolutely believed in. It astonished – overwhelmed – her so much that her lips slowly bloomed into the biggest smile, unrestrained in its radiance.

If it's not for the sudden strong gush of wind that had Sakura secure her bento in a hurry, she's afraid her mouth would be aching from smiling for a long while. But when she turned back to him, her lips threatened to twitch into another wide smile. She had to smooth down her hair in an attempt to distract her from showing her utmost happiness, lest her captain thought she was too weird.

From the corners of her eyes, she saw him scoot closer, his hand reaching for something on her head.

"Haruno-san, you missed this."

The fleeting brush of calloused fingertips created an almost feverish trail on her hair. But she wasn't startled.

This time, she let herself bask in its warmth.

.

.

.

"By the way, Taichou, you can call me Sakura. 'Haruno-san' is too stiff."

A pause. "I see, Sakura-san. Then please call me Shisui."

A smile. "Okay, Shisui-san."

.

.

.

He was not a perfect void, she thought. Instead, Shisui-san was:

Confident. He never bragged about his combat prowess but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of how good he was. There was this one time they were observing their targets from afar and discussing the course of actions. She warned him about their abilities, which could possibly counter his own. Shisui-san put his chin on his palm, fingers lightly tapping against it. With a half-smirk and a slight incline of the head, he said, "Will they, now?" Sakura amusedly shook her head in resignation. Infuriating Uchiha men.

Determined. He might or might not originally want to do something but once he decided he would do it then there's no stopping him. This was a principle he applied to everything, be it being a shinobi, a captain, or a major pain in the behind. On days when Sakura thought it's a wonderful idea to work consecutive shifts, Shisui-san would likely to be around to make sure she had proper rest despite her telling him she could take care of herself. "I insist." was all he said before he continued to stare at her until she conceded and took a quick nap under his watchful eyes.

Ridiculous. "On the scale from one to ten, how much pain does this injury cause you?" "It's not unbearable." "I didn't ask if you could endure it, I asked how much it's hurt." "…" "Alright, that's an eight then."

Shackled. It's ironic to see how Shisui-san and Naruto both possessed wind element yet the silly blond was so free – he yelled, he cried, he laughed whenever he wanted – and her captain wasn't. There seemed to be a set of rules for him to follow all the time – kept people at arm's length, kept hiding yourself, kept smiling. Maybe this was why he admired the foolish little girl that became a ninja on a whim or why his eyes were full of longing while watching birds spread their wings on the big blue sky.

Oblivious. Sakura had long forgotten the angst about her forehead but old habits died hard. Every time she needed to dress up as an eye candy for information gathering missions, she would subconsciously spend a longer time to look at her forehead. Shisui-san once asked her about it and she laughingly answered it's because she had a billboard brow. He then stepped closer to her, their faces mere centimeters away and his eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Oh, I never noticed." After that he was even more puzzled as to why she refused to look at or talk to him. All those unabashed stares from before was one thing, this was on a whole different level. The man just had no idea he was greatly capable of causing havoc on a young girl's tender heart.

Dorky. "What are you doing, Shisui-san?" The hand holding the brush paused, its owner raised his eyebrows and his voice was bland like he's not sure why she's asking the obvious. "I'm grooming her." "Yes, I can see that but does she need it?" Shisui-san turned back to his summon, hand lightly petting her head. "She loves it." The golden eagle looked like she badly wanted to gouge out his precious eyes but didn't, out of sheer loyalty. She wouldn't tell him that, though, for his eyes were gleaming with affection and rare happiness.

Tender. Her hands had seen to the death of many people, enemies and patients alike. The pungent coppery scent got stronger each time they were soaked with the crimson liquid. In those times, if he was near, Shisui-san never offered words of consolation. He took her hands and meticulously washed them until they're clean again. Sakura thought they hadn't been clean since the day of her first kill but with him sitting close next to her in tranquil silence – their shoulders a hair's breadth away – she could pretend they were.

Detached. He was often in a strange mood when talked about his parents. The smile he offered her while saying there's nothing much to tell since they passed away when he was six, resembled his trademark pleasant smile that nowadays was lesser in appearance. It didn't look like hatred, neither did it look like love. He always changed the topic after that. Sakura didn't know how to get through this part of him but she wouldn't push when he wasn't ready.

Kind. When people wasn't looking. On one occasion when their team was travelling back from a mission, they saw two kids playing by the lakeside. The younger one was crying loudly since their paper boat couldn't sail. Her other teammates chuckled before shaking their heads and kept on walking. Next to her, Shisui-san's steps didn't change their pace while the hand at his side made swift and discreet hand seals, sending a gentle breeze towards the children. He didn't stop but his lips tipped into a faint smile at their overjoyed shout.

And warm. Shisui-san could argue all day that everything he did was duty but Sakura didn't believe him one bit. The deep gash he received while shielding their teammate from a surprise attack, the all-nighters he pulled to watch over his subordinates even after they're declared stable enough, the firm hand on a comrade's back when they needed extra encouragement; it's all him and not black and white lines on a textbook. Shisui-san kept a distance from everyone yet – like any Uchiha, a child of fire – burnt himself to keep them warm.

(By the seventh month since she joined, Sakura sometimes quietly laughed at her past blindness.

This man, full of imperfections, can barely keep his shinobi form.)

.

.

.

"So," Ino drawled, "who is the lucky guy?"

"Huh?" Sakura absently asked, too unfocused to process what her best friend had just said.

Ino rolled her pretty eyes. "You have the same stupid look as when you used to daydream about Sasuke. Except it's more stupid now. There must be someone unless you're about to confess your undying love to a cactus."

Sakura looked down to the cactus pot in her hand. Her mind was indeed preoccupied but largely because of what she knew – thanks to her close position to the Hokage and Tsunade-shishou – was going to happen to their village if there was one wrong move from either or both parties involved.

At her silence, the blonde pressed, "There is someone, right?"

But, she wouldn't deny that her anxiety over the village's future was intertwined with feelings for a certain man.

Sakura touched the lone flower on the cactus' thorny body, her fingers gently tracing its soft petals. This small red flower blooming on a tough body hid the meaning of grandeur, endurance, ardent love, and warmth.

She smiled, "Yes, there is."

.

.

.

This weather is terrible.

Sakura mused as she channeled chakra to her hands and squeezed the soaked cloaks dry. Though she supposed it's still better than the snow storm they experienced in their last mission and she wasn't particularly bothered by the heavy rain. While it hindered the team's travel it didn't hamper her strength in any considerable way.

She couldn't say the same for her companion.

Sakura glanced at Shisui-san, who was putting tree branches in a heap at the center of the cave that they took shelter in. Like most Uchiha – with the exception of Sasuke-kun, whose techniques thrived in this kind of weather – he must not be thrilled by the prospect of being surrounded by water.

And the rain seemed to put a dent in his mood for more reasons than one.

After hanging their cloaks, she sat down next to the heap. She was starting to get cold, her skin getting goosebumps all over. She muttered as she rubbed her arms, "It's really cold in here."

Shisui-san quickly finished arranging the wood then blew fire over it once he was done with his hand seals. The cave was instantly lit by a yellowish orange glow and filled with moderate heat.

"Good thing I'm a katon user then," he said as he settled down next to her. "I can keep us warm."

She laughed aloud at that. You have no idea.

Then she turned to him, green light covering her hands, and said, "I think I will check your eyes now."

Shisui-san nodded without hesitation and let Sakura do her job. He wasn't this compliant in the beginning but now it had become the norm between them. She had firmly expressed her worry over his increasing use of his bloodline limit and convinced him to let her do a quick check after each mission.

Her chakra gently seeped into his ocular system, soothing any damage she might find. She was satisfied that the man, while could be absurd at times, always listened to reasonable advices. He had taken careful measures as to not overuse his eyes.

(He did have good reasons to maintain them at their best condition anyway.)

Finally she retracted her hands and notified him, pleased. "I have eased your eye strain, but other than that, there's nothing to worry about now."

"That's good to hear."

"I was worried about the damage being more serious."

"But thanks to you, it won't come to that," he sincerely said with a small smile.

She smiled back at him, "Well, you should also thank yourself since I can see that you do take good care of your eyes, despite all those jobs you receive from both the Military Police Force and Yondaime-sama."

There was a shift in his expression then, as quick as it came, it passed. His voice was light when he replied, "Ah, lately I have not been participating much in the Police Force activities. It's my regret that I can't contribute more as a member of the Uchiha clan."

"However," he continued, eyes turning away from her and staring at the fire, "these missions that take most of my time help our village so I suppose it's worth it."

There they were. Words from a textbook, showing nothing how he actually felt. But she wondered if he did feel anything at all because he said them with such ease, like they're natural and he had been saying them since he was capable of speech. Like he didn't know anything else aside from those practiced lines.

She must be quiet for a tad too long since he eventually turned to look at her. It's strange to see his usual curly hair straighten, making him somehow resemble Itachi-san. But the look in his eyes was familiar; she remembered seeing it at the examination room several months ago. The look of someone lost.

"When I was a kid," Sakura started without prompting, "when I still called you 'Uchiha-san', I often saw you around the village, dressed in your police uniform."

Shisui-san made no move to demand explanation for her randomness. Instead, he listened intently like he always did.

"In my eyes at that time, Uchiha-san the Police was," soulless, empty "…scary. Even then, I could see how much dedication you put into your duty, how much you tried to live up to your clan's standards."

Outside, the thunder boomed and the rain howled more viciously. Their campfire flickered as the wind got stronger so Sakura put more wood into it before she continued.

"Ever since I joined your team, you're not so scary anymore," she chuckled, remembering all the times she was confused, annoyed, fluttered around him. "Yet I think I can still see the same Uchiha-san in my Taichou, working restlessly for others and putting them before him."

"I can't help but wonder one thing, though. 'Uchiha-san' devotes himself to his clan and 'Taichou' places the village above all. But then,"

Now she fully turned to him, clear green eyes unflinchingly looking at his black ones.

"What does Shisui-san want?"

.

.

.

What Shisui-san didn't know when he stepped into the darkness outside of their cave, was that Sakura was very much awake. Throughout the night, she watched his back as he stood still under the violent rain.

She heard a silence that sounded like screams.

.

.

.

"It's really peaceful without the moron."

"You're being mean," Sakura giggled.

Sasuke-kun snorted.

They were sitting in the shade of a big tree that overlooked a vast flower field. Team Seven found this spot when they were on the mission looking for the poor cat of a noble lady. Since then this had become their favorite spot to relax, to temporarily forget their duty.

"So," Sasuke-kun said, "the Hokage sent him away, huh?"

"Yeah," she confirmed.

Two weeks ago she had said goodbye to an exuberant Naruto before he went on an ambassador mission to Suna that supposedly would last for two months with Kakashi-sensei and a few other Anbu. He was very excited, whispering to her how he couldn't wait to meet up with Gaara. She had teasingly chided him that he wasn't going there to play around. And he wasn't. He was going there to take refugee if things turned from worse to worst. But she didn't say that when she hugged him and wished him good luck with his mission.

She supposed the Hokage's decision made sense. If one of the worst outcomes became reality, letting a tailed beast stay near people in possession of the ability to control it wouldn't be wise. Not to mention while brilliant, her friend could get incredibly reckless if the matters were too close to home. She couldn't imagine how he would react when his sharp instinct finally caught on what was happening between the village and his best friend's clan. Naruto was too much of a wild card to risk him here in Konoha. Although she doubted those were the real reason behind their leader's choice. Part of it, yes, but his concern perhaps lay in the blond's safety more than anything else.

In the end, Minato-san was still a father.

Sasuke-kun must have thought something along the same lines when he smirked, "I guess even the Hokage is incapable of turning his back to his family."

"But," he sat straighter, all traces of humor gone from his voice, "I can understand."

Now he was looking at her, his beautiful obsidian eyes unrelenting and unapologetic. He left I would do the same unsaid. He didn't need to because those eyes of his always told her what was important. He was telling her what his stand was without an ounce of dishonesty. However, Sasuke-kun wasn't asking for understanding or even acceptance. When he announced his intention, he was fully prepared he would receive none. What he wanted to know was far less complicated.

Will we still be friends, after everything?

Her lips quirked up. Silly, silly Sasuke-kun.

Sakura stood up, hands smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt. She walked forwards for several steps before turning back to her friend.

"What are you sitting there for?" She grinned from ear to ear, hands on her hips, "Didn't you say you would treat me to the new dango shop?"

Something like relief, like happiness, passed over Sasuke-kun's features. Wasting no time, he stood up and fell into step with her. "Yes, yes, you gold digger."

She laughed and while he didn't, Sasuke-kun's smirk was gentler. They walked side by side, bargaining back and forth how much she could actually eat because his wallet had limit unlike her stomach.

Looking at him from the corners of her eyes, it amazed Sakura how she never saw the resemblance between Shisui-san and him. If Sasuke-kun had curly hair – an image that made her mentally snicker – and if he buffed up a little, he could look exactly like Shisui-san in passing.

Ah, I see.

For children of the clans, there were things owed to their family before to anything else: a distinct appearance that was as good as a crest, a special power blessed since birth, a bond lasting through generations. It had always been her parents and Sakura so she couldn't quite understand the string that connected – that bound – members of a clan for many years to pass and many years to come. However, it's precisely thanks to her upbringing that she understood the significance of choice.

No matter what Shisui-san's answer to her question was, she would look at him in the eyes and accept it.

.

.

.

The past hours had been torture, waiting in the hospital for the outcome – casualties, her master had said. Just when she thought she would lose her sanity with all the idling, Tsunade-shishou opened the door with a loud bang. For once in her life the hardened woman actually looked relieved and Sakura knew the coup d'état had ended in peace, or at least relatively so. With a nod from her master, Sakura sprinted out of the room.

She found Sasuke-kun first, who was walking on the street with Itachi-san. She didn't hesitate to leap forwards and hugged him so tightly that normally he would whine she was killing him but this time he let her. When her emotions came down from its high she realized Shisui-san wasn't with them and this information nearly threw her into a panic attack.

Catching her frantic gaze, Itachi-san slowly looked to the direction of Hokage Mountain and nodded. She didn't ask how he knew – Itachi-san always had the tendency to know everything while revealing nothing – she squeezed the life out of Sasuke-kun for one last time before she jumped on the closest roof towards her desired destination.

That's how she found herself watching Shisui-san's lonely back under the roaring downpour. He must have sensed her presence even before she reached Nidaime-sama's stony head but he kept sitting still, seemingly ignoring everything around him. Sakura decided she would take the first step.

"You will catch a terrible cold."

There was a pause, then he replied, "I could say the same about you, Sakura-san. It's best that you go home, I can't keep us warm in weather like this."

With that one sentence she knew he wanted her to leave him be yet at the same time, didn't. His response was spoken so softly – barely a whisper – among the loud drumming of the rain like he didn't wish for anyone to hear.

No one truly wants to be alone when they're suffering.

So Sakura approached him – slowly but surely – breaking his barrier and stepping into his personal space. She sat down behind him, her back touching his. With practiced hand seals the thick icy sheet of water split under her command, leaving two small people untouched.

Her dainty hand shyly found his larger one and she gently said, "Good thing I'm a suiton user then, I can shield us from the rain."

Shisui-san remained still but he didn't retract his hand. A few heartbeats later he leaned back, his back pressing more firmly against hers. Sakura held his cold, wet hand harder. An unspoken promise.

I will keep you warm.

.

.

.

She was running around her kitchen like a headless chicken.

Sakura fumbled through her beloved jars, taking all the ingredients she needed to make the most superb dessert. She was pouring her plum syrup to the jelly when light footsteps made their way towards her. After adding the final touch, she handed the bowl to Shisui-san.

"My killer plum syrup lemon jelly! With blueberry topping!" she proudly chirped. "The best treat you could have before resting for the day!"

"I see that your promotion campaign is still going strong," he chuckled.

She grinned widely, the corners of her lips must have reached her ears. "People literally kill for this, you know."

He smiled, "I don't doubt that."

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent in companionable silence. Sakura took her time to marvel at the situation. Years ago, even months ago, she wouldn't dream of having Shisui-san anywhere near her, too busy thinking he was some sort of a hollow being. Yet right now he was sitting in front of her and enjoying the jelly she made in the middle of the night. Part of her flushed at the thought of him staying overnight at her house. A larger part was delighted because of how content he looked at the moment.

Surprisingly, it was Shisui-san who spoke first, pulling Sakura out of her reverie.

"Sakura-san," he started slowly, his gaze intense, "do you think you would have been happier had you listened to your parents and didn't become a shinobi?"

Ah.

This was his moment of uncertainty. Whatever he chose in the end didn't erase years of devotedly serving his clan or the invisible bond existed in the red tint of those dark eyes. Betraying your own kin would leave a bitter taste in any decent human being. Shisui-san was definitely more than just decent. Sakura wouldn't lie; she was glad he didn't side with his clan and offered his hands in stopping their conspiracy. The ruthless shinobi in her wanted to assure him that she made the right choice just as he also did. But the twelve-year-old girl, who cried upon Sasuke-kun's body on a misty bridge, thought that Shisui-san had enough of people directing him what he should be.

After all, Haruno Sakura wouldn't follow the rules when it counted – especially when it counted.

"I don't know." She held his gaze as she admitted nothing less than the truth.

"You don't know..." Something in his eyes deflated, like he was truly expecting he would receive a resolution for all his pain from her. She would feel flattered if everything about this wasn't so sad.

"Yes," she nodded, "sometimes I do think about all the what-could-have-been. But at the end of the day, they are just that and never become the now. I will never know what they would have brought so I prefer to focus on the now."

"So what's about now? Are you happy with your choice?" This must be the closest to desperation she'd ever heard in his tone.

She thought back on all the times she cried in the dead of night – a dead patient, a fallen comrade, a mission that forced her to watch people being massacred for the greater good – with the blanket covering her trembling body from head to toes. She often fell asleep later to the wish of a non-existent tomorrow.

Her fist clenched as she said, "I would be lying if I said I always was. There were, and still are, times when I think it's better if I give up. Still, I'm truly glad that I chose to become a shinobi."

"Why?" asked Shisui-san.

Every time she concluded this was it for her, she wasn't cut out to be a shinobi, she remembered: Ino and Naruto's dazzling encouraging smile, Sasuke-kun's subtle ways of showing he cared, Kakashi-sensei's struggle with his past, Lee-san's determined face while training to exhaustion, Tsunade-shishou's scowl when she hid her sake, Chiyo-baasama's lesson of sacrifice. She remembered the absolute faith they put in her – the reverent belief that she was larger than she actually was. It's the thought of them that pulled her out of her bed to start every morning anew.

All the pain she went through was worth it, having these wonderful people in her life, and she told Shisui-san just as much.

Then her cheeks dimpled and she thought of a confident, determined, ridiculous, shackled, oblivious, dorky, tender, detached, kind, and warm – so very, very warm – man, whom she never expected to have her heart.

"And you too, Shisui-san." She said, letting the man know how grateful she was for meeting, and knowing, him.

Shisui-san didn't respond but his tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit so she took the initiative and gently asked, "What about you, Shisui-san? Are you happy?"

There was just the distant sound of the rain between them for a long while before Shisui-san opened his mouth, giving her the answer in a low, soft, but sincere voice.

"Yes, I am truly happy."

.

.

.

The next morning Sakura woke up early for work. She prepared a quick breakfast for Shisui-san and left a note next to it. On her way to the door, she passed by the man sleeping on her couch – Naruto completely trashed her spare room the last time he was there and she hadn't gotten around to clean it – and her feet stopped at the sight of him.

He was lying on his side, legs slightly bending because her couch was too short for him. There were dots of sunlight on his peaceful face. The hard edges that were often acquaintance with his face seemed to vanish overnight, leaving no trace of stress or sadness. She noticed some stray hair strands had fallen on his eyes. Out of reflex, she came close to gently brush them off. Shisui-san didn't stir, his chest rising and falling in an undisturbed rhythm. She smiled affectionately at him before heading out to the hospital.

Today was going to be a good day.

.

.

.

Later that day when she was about to have lunch break, a nurse came looking for her and said there was someone waiting for her at her office.

She was surprised to see Shisui-san – well-rested, comfortable – sitting on her couch with a bag on his lap. He stood up when she entered the room.

"I apologize for going through your stuffs without permission," he started.

"But," he smiled, the half-smile of his that she loved, and held up the bag, "I thought it's a good idea to make lunch for us. Would you want to join me?"

.

.

.

"Shisui-san, you made curry! And there is even yakitori!"

"You still haven't recognized all my secret recipe."

"Oh. Onsen egg!"

"That's my killer move."

.

.

.

Life moved on after that.

Naruto came back much earlier than expected, an apologetic Kakashi-sensei in tow. The first thing he did was to engage Sasuke-kun in a not-so-friendly spar, which the dark-haired boy gladly returned. In the end, the two boys ended up with ugly bruises and cuts all over their bodies. They still tried to get at each other while Sakura was healing them, earning them both a smack on the head from her. But when Naruto was well enough to move, he embraced his two best friends in a bear hug, apologizing for not being there and making them promise there would be no secret of that magnitude in the future. They all went to Ichiraku after that.

Team Seven, with their connections to important individuals, wholeheartedly supported the Hokage in his endeavor of bridging the gap between the village and the Uchiha, or any clans for that matter. Sasuke-kun said it's a slow progress but still a progress nonetheless. At least both sides were willing to sit down and discuss instead of going to a battlefield. Sakura was also told that her captain had moved out of the Uchiha compound and found a new sadistic interest in annoying the hell out of his little cousin. Sasuke-kun gave her a very meaningful glare while muttering 'sexually frustrated jealous bastard', which Sakura cheerily ignored.

Life was treating her good.

She didn't remember who initiated but now they were just 'Shisui' and 'Sakura'. Their personal meetings were as many as professional ones and they kept learning new things about each other. To her great dismay, he wasn't much of a sweet-tooth like her – he fell somewhere between Sasuke-kun and Itachi-san – but to her greater horror, he was fond of spicy food – his tendency to cook curry should have tipped her off. They subtly engaged in a competition to see who would make the other reach enlightenment first. It resulted in them being regulars at every known sweet shops and curry restaurants in Konoha.

There were also less silly moments like those Sunday mornings, when she spent hours at his apartment to watch him taking care of his weapon collection and listen to him sharing information about it; or when he helped her at the greenhouse and carefully noted down each herb's name and their use. She particularly love evenings when he waited for her shift to end and they ate dinner at a nice restaurant, retelling each other of their day.

But what she loved the most was when they sat together on top of Nidaime-sama, sharing lunch and talking about nothing and everything.

Like what they were doing right now.

She was giddily revealing Naruto's latest prank on Kakashi-sensei, one she did enjoy and secretly cheered for the blond. In the middle of her wild hand motions and exciting story, Shisui tapped the corner of his mouth, telling her she had jam on hers and simultaneously teasing her about that. She huffed and whipped her head to the side, pointedly ignoring his laughter. She was no kid, really.

A few seconds later, there was the faint feeling of rough fingertips on her cheek then her head was gently turned towards Shisui. His thumb stroked the smear but instead of cleaning it, he helped it spread wider. He even had the guts to laugh again.

Sakura pouted but her heartbeat quickened when she saw his gaze move to her lips. In his deep charcoal eyes reflected something that looked like realization, like affection, like her. There was no uncertainty in the way his head dipped down – carefully, slowly, giving her a choice she didn't need but appreciated all the same – and brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, lingering for moments of eternity.

Then he moved back, his hand still firm on her cheek, and looked at her. She was all red cheeks and racing heartbeats and him. He smiled – the full smile of a man who was free, and happy. From his mouth three little words were whispered not for the world but just for her to hear.

It's simply natural – inevitable – when she held the warm hand on her cheek and laced their fingers together. Her eyes never left his while saying the answer her heart reserved only for him.

"So do I."

A/N: I know Shisui's summon is crow in the manga (or at least I remember so) but I always associate Itachi with this particular animal. Furthermore, I like my headcanon of each Uchiha representing a kind of bird; hawk for Sasuke, crow for Itachi, and falcon for Madara (one of his hobbies is falconry). I looked for the list of fastest birds by flight speed and saw the golden eagle being second to the peregrine falcon. Of course I'd reserve the later for Madara so I chose the former as Shisui's summon.

Anyway, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed and put this story in their favorite and alert lists. You guys made this chapter happen for I seriously considered ending the story at chapter one. Because, well, the end of that chapter serves well enough as an overall closure and I doubt Sakura's answer can create suspense. No one thought she would say no, right xD? Plus, I was struggling with many things while writing the second chapter and it's only thanks to those who showed their support that I was able to pull through and finish it. So thank you again :D.

For readers that expressed their interest in my future ShisuiSaku fics, the answer is: I don't know. This story exhausted all my brain cells so I will take a break from writing first. It also depends on my love for this couple by the time I want to write again. Sadly, I'm as fickle as the autumn sky but never say never so we'll see.

Lastly, I hope you enjoy the chapter and please please please leave a review if you do. Review always makes my day – just one or two words are enough :3.