Prompt: Reprieve

Summary: Even when everything else falls apart, they find solace in each other.

"You're late," she barks when she finally sees a figure emerge from the snow and into the cave where the storm can't get reach them.

He inspects her as he approaches, ignoring her greeting. "You're going to burn yourself," he says, referring to how close she's sitting to the fire. And it's true—it's hot, but the snowstorm is angled in such a way that the wind keeps making it into the deep recesses of this cave, strong enough to threaten the integrity of the flames. Nevertheless, she scooches away to give him peace of mind.

As always, Itachi moves soundlessly and gracefully when he sits down beside her, his Akatsuki cloak bellowing. She closes her eyes when he brushes her hair out of her face. "You're tired," he observes.

"That might be a bit of an understatement."

"What happened?"

Sakura looks at him pointedly. "We're in a war. What do you think happened?" When she realizes that she's being unnecessarily snarky, she sighs. "Sorry. You're just being nice. We're just…we're losing too many people. I can't heal people faster than they die."

"That's not your fault."

"Well, it sure feels like it is." She takes his hand and weaves their fingers together. He's cold. "How are you?"

He shrugs. "As per usual."

The advantages of a national crisis, at the very least (if there are any at all), is that people stop paying attention to the details. Paperwork gets pushed to the side. People are more concerned about themselves than anyone else. Nobody notices if Sakura disappears for a few hours once or twice a week.

She hums absently, pressing her lips to his cold knuckles. "Tell me something good."

Nothing is good, she can almost hear him say. Instead: "The vegetable stand owner was busy brawling with someone when Deidara and Hidan visited, so they just stole the vegetables rather than paying for them."

Sakura blinks. The confusion is a welcome emotion compared to everything else she's been feeling. "That's a good thing?"

"Free healthy food? Yes."

"That's not—okay, fine." A giggle escapes her lips. "I guess that can be considered good." Itachi smiles faintly, having succeeded at lightening her mood.

"I missed you," she tells him, despite it only having been two days since they last met.

"I missed you too." He doesn't look at her when he says this—instead, his eyes are watching the flames dance, burning hot and bright.

"When will this end?"

"I don't know."

"I wish you'd just come home."

He glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. "You know I can't."

"Yeah, but…I don't know. Tell me what would happen if you could. What would you do? If you could just come home with no strings attached."

Itachi thinks for a moment. Has he ever considered this scenario before? Sakura certainly has. On sleepless nights, she lays awake with wide eyes open and thinks about how beautiful it would be if things were different.

"I would live in an apartment," he says, voice quiet. "Far away from the old compound. And I'd be a jounin."

"Not ANBU?"

"No. Never again. I want to teach. I'd train genin into chuunin. I'd take them on little missions. Make sure that they become wholesome shinobi, who know more than just…just death." Sakura's throat tightens as she listens to this. He's definitely thought about this, more than once. "And you."

"Me?" She tilts her head in question.

"You'd be there. You'd have the funding and equipment you'd need to run the hospital. You'd hold workshops for medic-nin from all over. And you'd live with me."

"Yeah? You'd choose me over Kisame?"

"Always."

"I have bouts of messiness, you know. I can go weeks without cleaning."

"I find cleaning therapeutic."

"My hair gets everywhere."

"Kisame smells like a fish, so nothing could really be worse than that."

Sakura laughs, and the sound of it bouncing off the cave walls almost startles her. "Okay. I'm better than a fish. I guess I could get on board with that."

"You're infinitely better than a fish," Itachi says, but his voice is already quieting because his hand is on the back of her neck and gently pulling her in. Their lips meet softly, slowly—maybe if they slow down enough, they'll be able to pretend that there's no war and they're living together in an apartment far from the Uchiha compound where he's stress cleaning and she's planning her next workshop. That would be the dream, but as they're both painfully aware, dreams mean nothing the moment they open their eyes.

And when they finally do open their eyes, they look at each other for a long time. Itachi, like Sasuke, can be a man of few words, and sometimes she just sits in the silence that he brings, listening to his breathing, feeling his skin against her hand as she caresses his face.

"How long can you stay for?" she finally asks.

He smiles—a sight that surprised her in the early days, but as he had explained to her, people only smile when they're happy. "I can stay until morning."

A smile blossoms on her face until it matches his. "So we can talk all night."

"Yes."

"Or we could cuddle for hours."

"We could do both at the same time."

"That sounds really nice."

Itachi unzips his cloak, and Sakura, eager, shuffles until her body is pressed close to his. He zips the cloak back up around them both—it's a warm and snug fit—and she sighs as she breathes in his familiar scent.

After a few minutes of silence, their conversation picks up again, and the longer they talk, the more the snowstorm outside fades away.