A/N: HELLO I'M BACK and sorry (for the nth time asdfkj) for taking so long to write this. I was getting my law degree lol. If you want to scream at me or to check out for any updates, you can also message (and follow) me on Tumblr and Twitter (and even Instagram for original work) under the same name. Reviews and comments are appreciated greatly (and always).

Frantic, he drums his fingers against the table, eyes closed as though to contain the damn migraine and the horrific, desperate noise their young little hostage keeps making in the next room – piercing crying squeals that, if he isn't too assuming, can be heard half across the world. Deidara is left merely to exhale one long drag, eyeing Yahiko.

"I wanna murder her," he drawls, looking at the single phone in the middle of the dining table. "Like, literally."

"I'll murder you too," Konan rolls her eyes without glancing away from a fashion magazine. "Like, literally."

The blonde groans, out of impatience than of bloodlust. "Well, what are we supposed to do, then? We're kinda overestimating the Uchiha and think they'll be actually coming for her without a plan–"

"Deidara, shut up," This time, it's Kakuzu who responds. "I reckon the child's screaming is enough for the rest of our eardrums without your yapping."

Yahiko smirks. "Some patience and faith, that's all. Once we get from the Uchiha what they rightfully owe us, she's all yours, Deidara. I'll leave her to you."

At this Deidara chokes on his laughter, almost sinister to anyone who barely knows him, like waiting to pounce at a prey that he's been exacting the revenge for hours now since they kidnapped her. He settles back in his seat, relaxing his nerves, hands behind his head and legs up the glass table.

"All right, mob boss, whatever you say."

"Now," the ginger leader sighs in pretend-defeat, shaking his head as he looks at the clock across the hall. "Where were we?"

-x-

Sakura's ears ring from exhaustion and anxiety: her face drained of any plump color from dehydration, her eyes casting a shadow under the moon that hadn't been there earlier when Sasuke had hit the gas, speeding into the night. Unbound disheveled rosette hair, creased forehead, and jittery teeth under her clenched jaw, she holds Sasuke's forearm, the one on the clutch, then grips him at a force that barely challenges a ten-month-old toddler's.

She's tired. He dejectedly obliges to gaze back at her, the most fragile state he's seen her in, and wonders – still wonders – how he could he ever think of leaving her. "It will be alright," he whispers, and no matter how much he allows himself to say it, a part of Sakura seems to break apart even further, unbelieving and cold to the skin yet it burns against his own in shame and guilt.

"But for how long?" she whispers.

Adamant in providing her with more comforting words, he opts for silence when Sasuke spots, not too far ahead - easily half a mile - alternating red-blue lights and faint police sirens. Without another minute upon reaching the location indicated on his GPS, Sasuke presses the brakes, now staring at the fire-grazed explosion brought under control by the Konoha Fire Department, and yellow barricade tapes across the 500-square foot convenient mart which Officer Yamanaka previously disseminated in their restrained rush.

He alights from their sedan, Sakura following suit in equal haste while Boruto – before he even shuts the passenger door – receives a scolding from Sasuke who spares not even a single glance back. "I said stay in the car, Boruto!"

The boy scoffs, already catching up with Sakura when the woman pauses at her heels, turns and looks him in the eye, almost as tall as she is now and resembling their old Uzumaki friend more than ever: being stubborn perhaps runs in their blood, but Sakura knows Hinata won't allow another breathe out of Boruto's indignant disregard for their warnings, especially when his safety might be at stake.

While Sasuke interrogates ahead one of the officers in charge, Sakura places a gentle hand, almost feather-like and might have been even shaky, over Boruto's shoulder, apologetic and never unkind.

"Listen to me, sweetie," Sakura starts, gulping to hide the fear catching her tongue. "Right now, your mother doesn't even know about you tagging along with us, and I will tell her in the morning, of course, mind you once we get back. If she knew where we are now, which I think she is bound to in a few more hours if she doesn't skip the late night news, you won't even be here. Because of that, we ask you one favor."

Boruto waits, although his mind remains jarred at the fact that his best friend (and ex) could be dead.

Sakura sighs. "We ask you to stay still, okay, honey? For Sarada, please? We don't want you to be in any other trouble while Hinata doesn't know."

Reluctantly, he nods, but hesitates in adding, "I just want to know if she's safe."

Tears clouding up her eyes, Sakura holds him in one swift embrace: "You and me, buddy. You and me. But until we can be sure, please wait for us in the car?"

Begrudgingly, the blonde accommodates the request and slogs back to the vehicle without another peep. For now, at least, to which Sakura lets out a sigh, and for how long, she isn't vouching it won't stand the night.

"Good evening, Sakura-chan," calls a man from behind, his uniform soiled nonetheless by the smoke.

"Officer Lee," greets Sakura with a sad smile. "Ino mentioned you and Chouji were on this case, so I guess this shouldn't be a surprise."

His eyebrows screw together, a hand on his chin stubble, immediately deep in thought. "Indeed. It was a good thing the store had been deserted, save for the cashier. It's like they perfectly –"

"– planned it?" Sasuke jumps in, exiting from the other side of the yellow tape line and dusting his hands. "They hardly perform jobs like these without planning and coordinating everything."

"Who?" Lee replies.

Close to raising his suspicions, Sasuke holds his breath as Officer Akimichi chimes in with a zipped plastic bag, containing what appears to be a mobile phone: might have been used to bomb the place or to contact their exact coordinates to the rest of the mob, or it could be Sarada's, perhaps? To spite the shit out of Sasuke? Because he knows that they know well enough, even without ever meeting Sasuke in person, hurting family ignites any Uchiha's wrath from within.

"Ino briefed me that you'll be here," Chouji shudders, handing the phone to the Uchihas. "The cashier Mr. Minari, bless his soul, finally gained consciousness and said to give this specifically to you."

Panicking, Sakura flinches bare white in prompt recognition. "That looks exactly like Sarada's old phone. She doesn't use this anymore, but I had this tucked in her bedroom. Why do they have it?"

The two officers stare at each other, as though a missing piece of information in their crime puzzle magically falls on their tired dispositions and settles the entire thing. Or has it just been Sakura's desperation to interpret, rather strongly, and hope for the same? Officer Rock Lee folds his arms, chin tucked.

"So, that really now confirms it," Lee tells them. "The same persons who blew up this convenient store are the same ones who abducted Sarada."

One suspicion fucking proven correct, Sasuke mutters internally, fuming. This is too easy and yet at the same time, he has little to zero allowance of time left, but he isn't sure where to look, no single map to lead them wherever they're holding Sarada captive. His blood coils in rage.

"Well, is it going to blow up in our faces, then?"

Chouji shakes his head in the negative. "We ran a few checks on it with our bomb experts, and then had the code examined by Shikamaru. It's nothing but a plain old smartphone. Nothing suspicious except…"

"Except?" Both Sasuke and Sakura nearly shriek, egging and impatient.

Chouji gulps, taking the phone from their hands. He switches the cellular on, and a blue screen that required a password appears – a function Sakura never recalls to have existed when the same very thing happened to be in their possession. Sarada hardly puts any encryption on her devices, let alone knows how to (for God's sake, she happened to have been what? Eleven years old when she owned it?); which only means this is a tacit creation of the criminals who took her.

"Maybe they really are leading us to Sarada-chan," Lee says. "But, it does not explain why they would rather use and steal this phone instead of her current one. If all they wanted is to contact you, why work with an old mobile? What is so distinct about this one?"

"Itachi gave it to her," Sakura offers, unsure if this is a key in the investigation, but nonetheless, holds herself from falling further apart.

And then it startles Sasuke upon hearing his brother's name, contemplating whether to once again prove his hunches and perpetually fear for Sarada's life, but dares nonetheless to give his presumptions a wild shot – he's never been wrong since this goose chase started.

Agitated, Sasuke asks for the phone, taps on the keyboard and inputs the numbers to his own birthday. Itachi has always revealed that the majority of the accounts' passcodes in the firm are simply Sasuke's birthday – the birth of a miracle, the greatest gift his parents have given Itachi on his birthday, just a month later. Its back light fluctuates upon entering the code, flickers down and opens to the homepage of a family of three: young Sarada so small behind her huge specs, Sasuke smiling behind with Sakura's arms around his waist – a painful photo that Sasuke hardly even recalls being a part of in his current state.

The two officers gasp in utter bewilderment, and before Sakura could even question Sasuke's code-breaking skills a video automatically plays, filling the screen completely and impressing upon the rest of them an unbearable disquiet. A man with ear piercings on both sides and auburn hair makes an appearance, smirking devilishly like he won a marathon or defeated his arch-nemesis in Mario Kart. Except this is no simple game where winners and losers are declared, that Sasuke can be very certain of.

"Hello, Sasuke. I'm glad you managed to locate this," says the video caller. "I'm pretty sure you are now aware that your daughter is in the custody of the Akatsuki –"

Lee quaffs. "Akatsuki? I thought they weren't re –" his statement cut short at a glaring Sakura with a finger by her pursed lips.

"– don't worry, she is very much alive. Well, until when, I can make no assurances –"

"Sasuke," Sakura says, crushed, clasping at her husband's torso in fear, and a hand on her mouth, but feigning what's left of her courage by keeping her eyes on the phone, making sure she hears every word from this ruthless, desperate man.

"– just know that we're only here for what Itachi started and I believe you want to end. Give us back the title of the land for Uchiha Wine Corporation's in Konoha, for what you Uchiha clearly mugged from us, plus the dividends you owe the Akatsuki, and we'll let you and your daughter live. You have until sunrise to meet us at the first warehouse across Naka River and the Valley of Death. We will give you Sarada and you will exchange her life for said land title and an amount of ten million ryo. Cash. You know, how we don't like dealing with checks. Banks are no fun when we're not robbing them."

"Jesus," Sakura mutters behind her hand, pulling away from him. Sasuke can still feel her tremble, even with the sudden distance, a gust of wind against his cheek brushing in the space she's left.

"If you agree, do notify us using this phone by sending a message and dial number 01. I hope you don't mind, we configured Sarada's old phone. It belonged to Itachi, after all. And what belonged to Itachi, belongs to the Akatsuki. Oh, and avoid dragging the police. We don't want any accidents with Sarada, do we? See you at sunrise, Sasuke Uchiha."

The call ends in white noise, and once more, their family picture flashes in the home page as the malefic reminder that might no longer be recreated if they choose to ignore the rather obvious lead.

Sasuke exhales. "This feels like a trap."

"Itachi? Itachi's been fucking dead for five years, what do they want?" Sakura says, out of anger rather than fear, calming herself to assess the situation as far as a mother whose child has been abducted can remain in such a situation.

Lee nods. "Correct. It does not add up."

Calculating how they can leverage their way out, Sasuke sighs, leaning close to Sakura so his voice merely comes out as a whisper for her ears only. The exclusivity of the moment causes Sakura to turn and look, out of habit, at Sasuke's lips, his hand going immediately to her other arm, drawing her nearer to his side.

"There's something you need to know about Itachi."

-x-

Konan flips another page of her beauty pamphlet. Prosthetics these days have gotten in demand in the makeup industry - most of her obligations to the group require certain skills to master deception - especially those covert operations. Damn, she misses those the most. Being Yahiko's right hand, and alternatively playing along the mom role, there is no telling, to her mind, that the plan will be completely fool-proof, but she's quite confident that apart from setting up the warehouse herself for the meeting place in approximately eight hours, Sasuke cannot say 'no' to the Akatsuki. It'll be simply absurd, for a father, knowing Sarada's life is on the line.

She browses through an article of a blond Senator, the one hailing from Konoha and a familiar foxy grin. Konan only meets him one time, prior to the attempted assasination of Kakashi, the previous prime minister of Konoha, only to end up almost getting caught.

Naruto Uzumaki. The very trigger that sends the Akatsuki back into hiding.

"Where were we?" Yahiko suddenly asks, directing the question at her.

Konan nods dutifully. "Well, I've had Kisame and Hidan over at the warehouse earlier today to set up the bombing and fusing the alarm systems. Easy to burn it down when it practically manufactures paper."

Sasori raises his hand. "It still surprises me to an extent that Sasuke Uchiha would agree to this." And to which, Kisame actually nods in agreement.

Yahiko smirks. "You'd even be more surprised then, that Uchihas are absolutely the worst negotiators because they do everything for family. Itachi, for example."

"Yeah," Kisame shrugs. "But it doesn't seem logical for Sasuke, though, to just give up the entire Konoha branch's land."

"It's our land," Kakuzu says matter-of-factly. "Four hundred hectares of it. It belongs to the Akatsuki in the first place. We've had it leased to Madara early on, that bastard. Without our land, Uchiha Wine Corporation would've never been that big. They owe us the money."

"And lease contracts don't just upgrade to contracts of sale, you know," Yahiko adds.

"Except, Itachi did upgrade it," Konan says, finally looking up from her fashion lessons. "He sold a portion of the land to Naruto. To a politician. To the fucking government of Konoha. And you can't just sell things you don't own. Even if we are rogues and criminals operating underground, it's breaching our terms with the lease contract."

Deidara yawns. "So, like, the company's land is owned by the government, right? Or is Keeping up with the Kardashians a better drama than this Uchiha runaway heist?"

Yahiko shakes his head, and Kakuzu breathes out in disappointment. Hidan merely cackles before replying, "I love how this kid never pays attention."

"Well, technically half the land was sold to the government," Yahiko explains. "We've leased them two portions actually, the one where the plantation adjacent to its office is, which is about 300 hectares, and the other one, which is on the other side of the town: now the town's public hospital."

"Itachi sold that portion to the government," Konan finishes. She paces across the room to grab water; suddenly her throat tightens still at that thought of Itachi's betrayal. "I don't know how we'll ever get that one back, but seeing as though Sasuke's been cutting our profits from being stockholders of the company for the past five months, it's time to ask for some reprisal."

"You never listened to my briefing at all." Deadpanned, Sasori looks at Deidara in second-hand embarrassment, somewhat shamed for having him as his literal partner-in-crime.

The blonde shrugs, nonchalant at the death glares. He returns them with one, adding, "Hey, I'm the doer, you're the planners. It's a mafia privilege to be the youngest recruit."

Kisame, restless still, sighs. "Just think of it this way, then. Itachi, who was the overall chief of the wine company, worked for the Akatsuki as an accountant. Kid was good with numbers. At the same time, little did we know he decided to have half of our land - " Kisame gives an acknowledged nod at Kakuzu, before proceeding, " - expropriated and sold to the government for the construction of a public hospital. I mean, he handed us the money from his transaction with Naruto, but he smuggled some of it for his own. On his deathbed, he promised to have the company pay back the missing costs and the rentals of the remaining land, through dividends, which being automatic stockholders of the company, Akatsuki is owed."

"They get to continue using the land, so long as they sustained our operations," Konan addresses. The simpler, the better - the faster the rest of the group comprehends their enemy, the better they will be in dealing with him soon. "Which at the same time, is a form of rentals for using the leased land that we own."

"It's been going on for five years since he died," Sasori intones. "Until five months ago, the money stopped coming in."

Kakuzu chuckles, or in his old age, wheezes a mechanical laugh. "And really, they've breached years ago. We can legally reclaim the land for failure to pay. You can easily oust an occupant from his rented apartment if he fails to pay rent, right? Why can't we do the same for these conniving fuckers?"

"As you can see," Yahiko's lips pursued, vacantly staring at the ceiling fan, "the Akatsuki always deals fair."

Hidan laughs murderously while folding his arms at this, adding: "We just have to make sure no Uchiha is leaving that warehouse tomorrow alive enough to tell the tale, or it ruins our 'evil mafia' image."

-x-

They arrive at the Konoha Police Department a little over an hour later. A quarter to midnight, Hinata and Naruto are seen, collapsing next to Boruto, the latter looking smaller than he had stood earlier when he deliberately decided to join the Uchihas' race against the culprits. Sakura settles at the desk across Ino's, her friend hardly concealing the dark bags edging her bright eyes, ponytail hanging dangerously low which only means the Yamanaka is at her wit's end.

Sakura extends a hand over Ino's arm, feeling her wince at the foreign touch. "Save your pity, I'm okay."

"You should rest it out," Sakura advises. "You look exhausted."

"Might want to look at a mirror yourself, forehead," Ino replies, though afterwards she slams her head atop the piled documents on her desk and murmurs unintelligently, though Sakura is sure she hears bloody hell and other profanities. Sakura notices Shikamaru hears them, and the latter is kind enough, though clearly equally tired, to slip Ino a cup of coffee from across the room.

"She'll be fine," Shikamaru mutters as he sits, no longer looking away from his laptop. Ino groans, lifts herself up promptly, and then gulps the cup.

Both girls launch a weighty breath. "I've contacted Inojin. His flight got delayed tonight, and he's going crazy. He wants to come home. See Sarada."

"I'm sorry," Sakura says. At this point, she isn't sure what to be sorry about. The night drags along rather slowly – but their ultimatum for a decision ticks away to less than five hours now.

Ino shakes her head. "I wanna say it's fine, but this has been the longest I've gone without a mani-pedi. I had a 20-hour shift the other night, and now it's running at practically 37 hours so, yeah, I'm just a little cranky."

"Thank you."

Abruptly, Ino stops reading from her files and hoists her weary lids to stare at Sakura. "We'll do whatever we can, Sakura. I promise. Sarada will be home soon and this Akatsuki locked up. Motherfuckers messed with the wrong town. And the wrong family."

Although her words promise nothing, Sakura's heart upon hearing them feels relieved. Sasuke has revealed to her what exactly the family is grounded upon though – and apparently, something she's never bothered to bring up with Itachi. Her brother-in-law, though the most kind out of all the ones who bear the same surname, look particularly ill in his last few years: battling cancer appears too heavy of a burden to even consider his other dilemmas.

She marries into a family who funds a mob and their criminal activities, while their best friend is a senator who could easily lock up and shut down the Uchiha Wine Corporation for good. All the while living under the roof of a man who has kept her in the dark for twenty years to protect her, (and Sarada too) and live their life like a normal family, never burdened at the circumstances they will eventually have to face if Sasuke acts upon terminating the very disreputable deal. Sasuke carries all of it because he fears for all their lives, and now that their very daughter's life is at stake, the truth tastes bitter and forced.

After reporting the investigations, Sakura leaves and climbs into the sedan with Sasuke at the passenger seat, mulling over probably the weight of their decisions and the affairs of the company. No, her husband hasn't been involved until five years back – when Itachi passes on. Sasuke discloses he goes over the accounts awhile back and finds a suspicious stockholder name that seems to go unrepresented during board meetings. With managerial prerogative, Sasuke removes it from their list. Said account fails to receive the remaining dividend earnings, which might be the very reason the Akatsuki is striking back.

For revenge.

In all her years being an active surgeon, while the fatigue never shows itself during her shifts, the adversity now slams itself right at her face, and Sakura breaks down. Her eyes, pooling from the amount of infinite kept anguish, continuously pour out, muffling her sniffles with the back of her hand.

She feels Sasuke's form inching closer, until she sobs in that small space, right between his face and shoulder, to which has always been her pillar of comfort. The familiar touch, though unwarranted at the current circumstance surrounding them, claws at her heartbeat, demanding her pulse to rise and fall at the seconds that ticked. Farther from Sasuke, farther from Sarada: the two only souls her heart longs to collapse and rest in when all of this favors a happy ending. She can only hope it does end happily.

"I'm sorry," Sakura whispers when they are in the car, just the two of them now alone, and Sasuke swears at this point it is his own heart that breaks.

His eyes focus on the road illuminated by their headlights - steady like he is, like he always has been, because she needs him to be. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

The words in her run over each other until they come out. "The divorce, Sarada, this thing – I didn't know what you were going through, and now I feel like –"

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Sasuke interrupts again, his often straight face now growing concerned, gnawing at him, his teeth clenched. Guilt. All this guilt. Undeserved guilt. How could he put his family through all of this mess?

He plants a careful kiss at the top of her head, then eases his way to the curve of her temples. He lifts Sakura's face to his, gentle and sure, and he deletes the space in between their lips, beguiling. He searches her eyes in the midnight dim, now in the shade of olive, but staring completely, enamored and loved and hopeful. Like the first time.

With locked gazes, Sasuke then smiles.

"I love you."

Sakura, although slightly dazed at their current situation, finds a soft smile of her own. "I know."

She reaches for his hand and gives it a strong squeeze, while Sasuke picks Sarada's old phone from the dashboard, the one from the convenient mart and looks back at Sakura, awaiting approval.

"Trust me?" Sasuke asks.

Sakura doesn't hide her smugness, nodding despite the tears that have initially floored her. "Understatement of the century."

With an expectant sigh, he takes it as confirmation and dials the number 01 to affirm their assent. At this point, the Akatsuki has left them little to no choice at all.

Hold on, Sarada. Mama and Papa's coming.