Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ What are these Memories? ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

Italics- flashbacks

 

Sakura looked up from her hands as Sasuke entered the room alone, and closed the door behind him.

“What do you want?” she said, scowling at him. Sasuke said nothing. Sakura gave him a hard stare, almost as if challenging him, if that wasn't what she was doing anyways. “If you have no reason for being here, then get out of my sight.” Sasuke shook his head and fixed his dark eyes on her face. They sat in silence for a while until Sakura became uncomfortable under his gaze. His eyes were full of what looked like sympathy or pity. “Stop looking at me like that! You're no better than your brother.” Sasuke's façade wavered, his eyes going emotionless again.

“Nii-san looked at you that way?” he asked, his voice a low growl of what sounded like possessiveness or jealously.

“All time,” she replied, looking back down at her upturned palms. “He always looked at me like when we…” She trailed off.

“Well?”

“It almost seemed that your elder brother couldn't keep his eyes off me,” she softly laughed sarcastically. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. They sat in silence for a long amount of time once more. Sasuke broke the silence first.

“Why did you try to stab yourself?”

Sakura closed her eyes as a single tear fell down her cheek…

 

It had been four days since Sakura was taken into the Akatsuki headquarters. Four days of being locked up in a room with nothing to do and only allowed out to use the restroom. Each day, a different woman watched over her, refusing to talk about why the elder Uchiha kept the girl instead of killing her. Sakura sat in the middle of the room on the floor fingering a kunai. Her ears perked up at the sound of a door opening. The moment Itachi stepped in, she flung herself at him, kunai in hand. Itachi grabbed her wrist in a steel-like grip.

“Don't test my patience girl,” he hissed into her ear. “I'm not in the for your childish antics today.” She twisted around in his grip, looked up at him, and spat in his face.

“If anyone's testing my patience, you are!” she spat. He growled and released, dropping her forcefully on the floor.

“Keep this up and you won't get fed,” he retorted, pacing the room.

“I haven't been fed in four days!” Itachi abruptly stopped in his pacing and Sakura swore his face turned a bit pale.

“What do you mean you haven't been fed?”

“Just what I said! What did you think I meant?” While she was glaring at him, he took note that she happened to have more bruises than when she had when she first arrived.

“What happened to you?” he inquired.

“I was beaten up,” came the reply.

“By whom?”

“Some idiot that got it into his head that I would make a nice punching bag for his training.” Itachi gained back his color, but his eyes flashed red and back to their normal color.

“Go on,” he commanded.

“So I bit him,” she snorted. Itachi paused turned back to her.

“Then he did the right thing.”

“Excuse me?”

“The members of the Akatsuki have been taught to do whatever they feel necessary when provoked. Besides, you're a medic-nin. You should have been able to heal your own wounds.”

“I ran out of chakra.” Itachi turned and opened the door again.

“You're a pathetic excuse for a medic-nin. You disgust me,” and with that, he shut the door once again behind him. Sakura looked down at her hands. To her, that was the worst insult you could get from anyone, Itachi or not. She drew her knees up to her chin.

“Then if I'm such a bad excuse,” she whispered, “ then why do you keep me alive? If I've failed anyone's expectations of being a medic-nin, then why can't I just die?” That night, she silently cried herself to sleep.

The next day, word spread around quickly that an Akatsuki member, the same one who had caused her so much pain, was found dead that morning…

 

Author's End Note: Another day, another bad chapter. Really OOC on Itachi's part, but since I've already stated that fact a long time ago, don't kill me for it! Anyways, it was short, but ideas are coming slowly and I'm afraid that I'm going to get people so out of character, that they won't be recognizable anymore! Please, please, PLEASE, e-mail me your ideas!