Edited and Revised May 7th, 2013

Enjoy :D

I take it back.

I take it all back.

Silky green sheets twisted and knotted in my angry fingers, tears instantly swelling up in my eyes. If I had just done something; been smarter, thought harder, then maybe things would be different.

I felt my nails dig deeply into my palm as my thoughts continued to tear across my mind until I felt my skin sting and burn as I cut into it with my nails. Relaxing my hold, I released the fabric, now worn and slightly faded from my tight grip. A small tear traced down my cheek, falling down in silence. Crying was such a funny thing. Crying over the same thing and knowing nothing would change was foolish, yet I could never seem to completely stop the tears. I shook my head hopelessly, frustrated all the more that I was crying, again.

I allowed a small sigh to escape my lips as I looked around my bedroom. The room I was kept in wasn't anything special; just a simple little room with a bed and dresser against the wall. The closet was small, but I didn't have a lot of things so it didn't matter how spacious the closet was or not. I had long hated living there, long hated my circumstances, and perhaps even longer still hated myself for living this life.

There were always moments where I would get so angry, so certain that I had finally had enough to where I simply didn't care anymore. Most of the time I survived day to day in the shadows, living as shallowly as I possibly could to avoid feeling the pain of life. There were days where I was so sure that I could hate him. Furrowing my eyebrows, I picked at the sheets, trying to bring strength and conviction into the words that I had told myself so many times before. I had every right to hate him. I had every right to plunge a knife straight through his heart and walk away without explanation or cause, yet here I sat on my bed day after day, a prisoner of my own choice.

Why?

While I knew full well that I hated it here, perhaps the only thing scarier than living in this god forsaken place for the rest of my life, was leaving it all behind and knowing for true certainty that I had no one, and nothing.

Besides, where could I ever go that he couldn't come and find me? Would he allow me to simply walk away as if nothing had ever happened? A small trace of a smirk ghosted over my chapped lips. I doubted it. He still believed, still held onto the frailest of hopes that things would change. Him – the one who ruined everything and brought me to this horrible place. Him – the one who stole my future and made me know fear. Him.

My frown returned as I continued to debate with myself. Even the idea of freedom was starting to lose its promise. No matter what I did, it could never change the past. Nothing could rewrite what was. Because of that fact alone, my future simply didn't matter anymore.

Instead of fighting for change, I stayed locked away in my room day by day and week by week. I didn't find comfort from his company and despised it when he came to seek mine. He had asked me why I hated him, because I would often lie and tell him that I did, and apparently he believed me. He asked me if I would ever allow myself to live again, but I couldn't answer his questions. So many of them I just didn't know the answer to. A part of me wanted to suffer though, that much I was certain of. A part of me knew I very well deserved nothing more than misery and shame, and wanted nothing more than to stay in my horrible little room until I died, miserable and alone.

Another tear ran down my face. I didn't even bother to wipe it away that time.

I looked at my hands, noting the skin that I had cracked with my nails was slightly bleeding, smearing blood into the top sheet. With a light sigh, I closed my hand into a tight fist, feeling the slight sting as the broken skin tore against the harsh movement, until finally I could feel the blood drip from my fingers and onto the sheet.

Unclenching my hand, I used a corner of the sheet to wipe off the blood. I looked at my hand for a moment longer, until my concentration was broken by a knock at the door, the quiet sound seeming to rattle harshly against the silence.

"Sakura...You in there?"

It was the voice of Kisame.

Physically? Yes. I would always be there. In spirit? No. I was long gone. Dreaming. Some place, some heaven. I baffled back between myself as to how I should answer the simple question, though didn't have to. I watched the handle turn slowly, a light blue hand pushing the door open.

I stared blankly at Kisame at he leaned into the room, wondering what would have caused him to need to come find me. It wasn't often that I had visitors. My stomach was instantly doing flips as I assumed the worst.

As Kisame began to speak in his surprisingly formal manner, I listened. I listened very closely. The first word he said was one of alarm, and I found that feeling in my stomach of dread and worry intensify. I tried to remind myself that name is just a name, nothing more, nothing less. There should be no reason to become so worked up over just a few syllables put together, though I still found myself taking a deep breath. That name, that very name, changed my life forever. I gave my everything for that name.

I scowled, looking away from Kisame and turning my attention towards the wall, my head flooding quickly with anger and pain and confusion. Frustratingly enough, this response was caused at just the mere thought of him. Being around him, even past all my defiance to him, plagued me and reduced me to my knees before him, sometimes quite literally. Any resentment I felt towards him I harbored sacredly, hoping to one day free my mind from him. As much I hated him and tried to free myself, I was merciless before the power that he was to me.

"He wants to see you Sakura..." Kisame repeated, his voice having an edge of exhaustion to it.

I couldn't stop a soured glare from spreading across my face as I turned my attentions back to Kisame. He quickly made a face of his own, having always been frustrated with my misdirected anger in these situations. I instantly dropped my narrowed expression and replaced it with an apologetic frown. It wasn't Kisame's fault I was in this mess. Standing up from the bed, my knees popped as I stood, a small ache settling in my joints from having stayed still for so long.

Waiting in silence, knowing he couldn't press me into a conversation, Kisame moved out of the way and followed behind me as I walked out into the hall. Each step I took made me feel more and more sick, yet I kept going. I would face him and give him my coldest, most seething glare I could muster.

Only a short time ago, I'd get so enraged and I'd use my trained strength to break through walls and shatter foundations. That was then though, when there was still a smart remark in my spirit and a defiant fire present in my eyes. After being beaten and forced into submission time and time again, I learned to stop fighting.

Cool, smooth metal pricked my senses as I grabbed the door handle to his room. I willed a calm control to fall over me, though I could already feel a nervous sweat cresting across my skin. Turning it carefully, it felt like it took great feats of strength to open the door, and even greater strength to not turn around a go back. Watching the floor as I moved deeper into the room, I clenched my fists nervously, ignoring the slight sting the action brought from my previous antics.

What did he want this time? Why could he not just leave me alone to die and be miserable?

"Sakura." his voice broke the silence.

I closed my eyes, feeling sorrow wash over me as emotions ran through my head, instantly beyond my control. Opening my eyes and slowly looking up, I frowned, locking eyes with the man who had changed the course of my life forever.

Two raven eyes caught and held my gaze forcefully, as if speaking just by eye contact alone. He was angry today. He was tired of the fighting, and tired of how things had become. The two eyes narrowed slightly, reading me like the open book I was to him.

My breathing spiked irregularly as his gaze traveled over my being, appraising my appearance with a look of frustration. Not wanting to continue to burn under his scrutiny, I broke my gaze away from his all knowing eyes, preferring rather to focus on the floor again.

Soon after, he stood up, walking towards me. My mind raced as I concentrated harder on the ground. What was he going to do? Beat me, talk to me? I didn't care; I just wanted him to leave me alone! That's all I wanted right now was to be in my quiet, small little bedroom. I didn't want his company, didn't want his poisonous words in my ear, didn't want to feel his presence, and didn't want him. As thoughts continued to race through my mind, I felt time still as he was suddenly so close to me. I flinched away when I felt him grab my wrist, though he roughly kept his grip, fighting against me as I pulled my arm back, only then making eye contact with him. I glared heatedly at him, all but sneering when his eyes turned just as cold while we silently wrestled against the other.

He gripped my wrist painfully tight, to the point where I could feel my bones bruising against his strength. Not able to fight against his unwavering vice hold, I winced slightly, defeat washing over my features as I stopped resisting him. Will a cool knowing nod, he relaxed his crushing grip as well, though still firmly holding my wrist and turning it every which way to get a closer look at my bloodied hand.

"Sakura." his smooth voice seemed to cut through all my defenses, calling for my attention. His voice wasn't concerned or pained, but rather demanding.

His other hand lifted up my chin, capturing me again with his eyes, "Sakura what is this?" he lightly ran his fingers over my hand, putting on just enough pressure to cause the abrasions to bleed once again.

I had no reply for him, shifting my eyes to the wall. Quickly, his grip tightened down again, harder than before to the point where I feared my bones might very well snap from the pressure. I cried out slightly, my face contorting in pain as used my other hand to try to claw out of his grip, but to no avail. Ignoring my desperate attempts to free myself, he continued, "Help me understand why it is you are hurting yourself like this."

My head began swirling all over again. I hated when he did this. Did he want to know why I was going crazy in this place? Him! That was the answer! He was doing this to me! Even if he set me free from the boundaries, I would never be free. I could never get back what I had lost and given up for him. He was the most powerful man I knew, but not even he had the power to truly free me. It was utterly, and completely impossible.

I managed to glare up at him, feeling a wave of molten hatred seep over me, "Because." I paused, my voice shaking from both fear and anger, "Nothing is like you said it would be. Nothing!"

I could feel his mood shift from being momentarily shocked, to angry once again, though I didn't care, "And I hate it! I hate you, and no matter what you say or do, that will never change." Seeing his eyes flare with anger at my words, I felt a small spark light in me, only urging me to continue to my venomous words. I managed to force that name out of my mouth. The one I could never force myself to say anymore. The same one that ruined me. The same one that I was somehow just as determined to ruin in return.

"I hate you, Itachi. "

Hey, Midnight here. So I've gotten back into this habit of going back and fixing all my past works and making them better. I hope that for those who happen to stumble upon these updates, they bring a smile to your face and paint the story in a stronger, clearer light for you.

Thank you!