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Sasuke had always been stubborn, difficult to read, and fiercely possessive of the few things he allowed himself to care about. That was just the way he was. Itachi had long since accepted that his little brother wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He had hoped that maybe, with time, Sasuke would change, that he would learn to open up, to soften, to let go of the need to prove himself to the world. But he hadn’t.
Not that Itachi blamed him.
After all, he was the one who had created the monster in his brother, the one who had filled Sasuke with purpose, with anger, with the unshakable drive to one day seek revenge on him. It was inevitable that Sasuke would grow up the way he did.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still the same boy Itachi had always known.
When Itachi heard that his little brother had been placed in a three-man squad alongside the village’s jinchūriki and a pink-haired girl, he found himself intrigued. Not necessarily because of the squad itself, but because of what it would mean for Sasuke. Team dynamics were important. Though Sasuke had always been self-reliant, distant, and aloof, Itachi wondered how his little brother would handle being part of something larger than himself.
A pink-haired girl…
Itachi couldn’t help but chuckle. He remembered how that little girl had managed to have an effect on Sasuke, how Sasuke talked a little more about her than anyone else, how his chubby cheeks sometimes turned red without him even realizing it. His foolish little brother.
Flashback
"Nii-san!" Sasuke’s high-pitched voice rang through the house.
He turned from the stove where he was making lunch and looked over his shoulder to see his little brother bounding into the kitchen with all the energy of an eager six-year-old. Sasuke plopped down on the floor, his short legs crossed as he stared up at Itachi with a serious expression.
"Sasuke," Itachi greeted, flipping the eggs in the pan before focusing on his little brother. "What is it?"
Sasuke fidgeted for a moment before blurting out, "Nii-san, how can a person have pink hair?"
Itachi paused, momentarily taken aback by the question. He turned off the stove, placed the eggs onto a plate, and set it on the table before sitting across from Sasuke. The younger Uchiha was staring up at him, wide-eyed, genuine curiosity written all over his face.
"Well," Itachi began, "hair color is determined by genetics. Certain combinations of genes influence pigmentation—"
"Nii-san," Sasuke cut in, pouting. "I don’t understand! Pink isn’t a normal hair color!"
Itachi couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him. He studied Sasuke for a moment, noting the faint furrow of his brows and the way his tiny hands clenched at the hem of his shorts.
Itachi glanced down at his little brother, taking in the pout on his face and the way his small hands gripped the hem of his shorts. Sasuke was clearly deep in thought, troubled by something that, to most, would seem insignificant—but Itachi knew better. When Sasuke latched onto something, it was never random. There was always a reason behind it.
He smiled, amused by the seriousness in Sasuke’s expression. “Let me guess,” Itachi mused, tapping a finger against his chin. “One of your classmates has pink hair?”
Sasuke nodded, his tiny brows still furrowed. “Aa.”
“And that bothers you?” Itachi asked, curious about where this was going.
Sasuke huffed, crossing his arms. “As a shinobi, having a striking hair color like that isn’t a good thing, right? It makes you stand out. That’s dangerous, nii-san.” His voice was insistent, as if he were genuinely perplexed about how someone could be so careless.
Itachi chuckled softly. “It depends.”
Sasuke frowned. “Depends on what?”
“Well,” Itachi began, sitting down on the engawa of their home and motioning for Sasuke to join him. Sasuke stomped over, plopping down beside him, his small feet dangling over the edge. “In certain situations, yes, standing out can be dangerous. A shinobi should be able to blend into their surroundings when necessary. However, standing out isn’t always a weakness.”
Sasuke looked up at him, skepticism clear on his face. “How?”
Itachi smiled, pleased that Sasuke was so eager to learn. “Think of the Hokage,” he said. “Or any high-ranking ninja. They don’t hide, do they?”
Sasuke shook his head. “No, but that’s different! They’re already strong. No one would mess with them.”
Itachi nodded. “Exactly. When a shinobi reaches a certain level, they no longer need to hide. Their strength speaks for itself. In fact, some shinobi use their appearance intentionally to intimidate their enemies or to make a statement.”
Sasuke blinked, considering this. “So… you’re saying that if you’re strong enough, it doesn’t matter how much you stand out?”
Itachi gave a small nod. “In a way, yes. But there’s more to it than that.”
Sasuke’s expression remained doubtful. “But pink, nii-san,” he pressed, as if the color itself was personally offending him. “I’ve never seen anyone with pink hair before.”
Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “That just makes her unique, doesn’t it?”
Sasuke’s nose scrunched up. “But unique isn’t good for a shinobi.”
Itachi chuckled. “Not necessarily. Do you remember the story about the White Fang of the Leaf?”
Sasuke tilted his head. “That’s Kakashi's dad, right?”
Itachi nodded. “Yes. He was a legendary shinobi. His white hair was as recognizable as his skills. He didn’t need to hide because he was so formidable that it didn’t matter. The moment enemies saw his white hair, they knew they were in trouble.”
Sasuke’s frown deepened. “So, you’re saying that if this pink-haired girl becomes strong, no one will care about her hair color?”
“Exactly.” Itachi smiled. “In time, people won’t think of her as ‘the girl with pink hair.’ They’ll think of her by her strength, her reputation. Her name will carry more weight than her appearance.”
Sasuke stayed quiet for a long moment, kicking his feet against the wooden floor, clearly thinking things over. Itachi waited patiently, knowing his little brother always needed time to process new ideas.
Finally, Sasuke let out a small sigh. “I guess that makes sense.”
Itachi chuckled. “I’m glad you think so.”
Sasuke was silent again before suddenly glancing up at him. “Do you think she’ll be strong one day?”
Itachi raised an eyebrow, noting the casual way Sasuke referred to her now. He hadn’t said her name, but he had already stopped calling her “that girl” or just “the pink-haired one.”
Interesting.
“I think anyone can become strong if they have the right guidance and determination,” Itachi answered simply. “Even her.”
Sasuke pursed his lips, looking away as he kicked his feet against the wooden engawa. “She cries a lot,” he muttered, as if the very thought annoyed him.
Itachi glanced at his little brother, tilting his head slightly. “For no reason?”
Sasuke frowned, thinking for a moment before muttering, “People laugh at her hair.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as if saying it aloud made it more real.
Itachi’s gaze softened. “That’s bad,” he said simply. “No wonder she cried. Did she stand up for herself?”
Sasuke scoffed, his arms crossing over his small chest. “I told you, she was crying. Just crying.” He shook his head, irritation creeping into his voice. “It’s only the first day, and she already let people bring her down. Stupid.”
Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “Bullying is always bad.” He glanced at Sasuke again, noting the way his little brother’s fists had clenched slightly in his lap. “Why don’t you help her?”
Sasuke stiffened immediately. “No,” he said quickly. “I don’t want a friend.”
Itachi chuckled, amused by how defensive Sasuke sounded. “I never said anything about being friends. Just helping.”
Sasuke turned his head away, staring stubbornly at the trees in the distance. “She should learn to deal with it herself,” he muttered. “Crying won’t change anything.”
Itachi exhaled softly. “Perhaps. But not everyone is strong from the start, Sasuke.” He let his words sink in before adding, “You didn’t answer my question, though.”
Sasuke turned his head slightly, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “What question?”
“Why don’t you help her?” Itachi repeated, his voice patient.
Sasuke frowned. “I already said—”
“I know what you said,” Itachi interrupted smoothly, his lips twitching into a knowing smile. “But that doesn’t explain why you care enough to keep talking about her.”
Sasuke’s face scrunched up, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue—but no words came out.
Itachi chuckled at his expression. “You’ll be her hero.”
Sasuke’s cheeks turned pink immediately. “Tch! I never said that!” he snapped, his pout deepening. “She doesn’t need a hero.”
Itachi smirked, resting his chin in his palm. “And yet, here you are, worrying about her.”
“I’m not!” Sasuke huffed, glaring at him.
Itachi let out a soft laugh, deciding not to push any further. He had already seen enough. Sasuke might not have realized it yet, but something about this pink-haired girl had clearly gotten under his skin.
And from the way he was acting, Itachi had a feeling this was only the beginning.
Sasuke grumbled under his breath but picked up his chopsticks nonetheless, stuffing a bite of rice into his mouth with a sulky expression. Itachi watched him in quiet amusement, already sensing where this conversation was going. For all of Sasuke’s efforts to sound indifferent, there was always a certain pattern to the things he talked about after coming home from the academy.
And lately, that pattern always included her.
He had yet to say her name, almost as if refusing to acknowledge her importance. But every single day, without fail, Sasuke would report back about his academy life, and not once did he forget to mention the pink-haired girl.
Not that he ever spoke kindly about her.
“She’s so stupid,” Sasuke muttered between bites, barely looking up from his plate. “Just like all the other girls—trailing after me. It’s annoying.”
Itachi raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. “You want her to be different?”
Sasuke’s chopsticks paused mid-air before he quickly stuffed more rice into his mouth. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, cheeks slightly puffed from eating too fast.
Itachi hummed in amusement. “Ah, I see.”
Sasuke narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing. Itachi let the silence linger for a moment before shifting the conversation.
“So, how was your day?”
“Like usual.” Sasuke shrugged, as if the academy was nothing but a minor inconvenience. “We had taijutsu practice. I won, of course.”
Itachi hid his smile behind his teacup. “Against who?”
“The orange boy.” Sasuke scowled.
Itachi instantly knew who he meant. Naruto.
Sasuke clicked his tongue. “She’s weak.”
Itachi nearly laughed. There it is. He always found it amusing how Sasuke couldn’t seem to go a single day without mentioning her.
“Why do you say that?” Itachi asked, feigning curiosity.
“She can’t fight. It’s embarrassing. Her hair’s too long, and it keeps covering her eyes.” Sasuke made a face, shaking his head.
“She just needs more practice,” Itachi pointed out.
“As if. It’d be a waste of time to train her.” Sasuke huffed, poking at his rice. “She’s not supposed to be a ninja.”
Now, that did intrigue Itachi. Sasuke had never been one to underestimate people. If anything, he respected strength, and yet, there was something oddly insistent in the way he dismissed the girl.
“Why do you think that?” Itachi asked, watching his brother closely.
Sasuke’s brow furrowed. “She’s too soft.”
Itachi took a slow sip of his tea, hiding his growing amusement. “Too soft?”
Sasuke huffed, stabbing at his food. “She cried when she saw a hurt rabbit. A rabbit, nii-san.” He shot Itachi a pointed look, as if expecting him to agree with how ridiculous that was. “That’s not something a ninja should do.”
Itachi chuckled, shaking his head. “Compassion isn’t a weakness, Sasuke.”
Sasuke muttered something under his breath, but Itachi didn’t press him. Instead, he simply observed—his little brother, too young to realize his own feelings yet. Sasuke had a habit of dismissing things he didn’t understand, and Itachi could already see it so clearly.
Because for all his complaints, Sasuke had never once ignored the pink-haired girl.
He was always watching her.
And if the way his cheeks were slightly red was any indication, Itachi had a feeling that would never change.
Sasuke let out a frustrated huff, watching as his shuriken hit the target dead center. Without missing a beat, he reached for another one and threw it with precision, hitting the exact same spot. His movements were sharp, calculated—second nature to him. But despite his flawless aim, his irritation was evident.
“I can’t believe she couldn’t even throw a shuriken.” Sasuke scowled, his voice dripping with exasperation. “What was she thinking? If I were her, I’d just drop out of the academy myself and move to another country.”
Itachi, who had been leaning against a nearby tree, chuckled softly at his little brother’s dramatics. “That seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
Sasuke turned to glare at him, clearly expecting Itachi to share in his disbelief. “No, nii-san. You don’t understand. It wasn’t just bad—it was awful. She didn’t even get close to the target. Her shuriken went sideways. Sideways.” He flung another shuriken, watching as it landed perfectly on target again, as if to prove his point.
Itachi hummed in amusement, crossing his arms. “She might have talent in other areas,” he pointed out casually.
Sasuke scoffed. “Like what? Chakra control?” He let out a laugh, shaking his head as if the thought was ridiculous. “Yeah, right.”
“Maybe,” Itachi said simply.
Something in his tone made Sasuke pause. He turned to look at his brother, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Itachi smirked knowingly. “It’s not a random thought, is it?”
Sasuke stiffened slightly. “It is random. I’m just rambling,” he said quickly, but the defensive edge in his voice gave him away.
Itachi tilted his head, studying his brother’s face. Sasuke was good at keeping his emotions in check—at least, better than most kids his age—but Itachi knew him too well. He could tell when Sasuke was hiding something.
“Hmm,” Itachi mused, pretending to let it go.
Sasuke threw another shuriken a little too forcefully, the frustration still lingering in his movements. There was a brief silence before he finally exhaled sharply.
“Fine,” he admitted, though his voice was quieter this time. “It’s not random.”
Itachi resisted the urge to smile. There it is.
Sasuke bent down to pick up another shuriken, but this time, his grip wasn’t as tight—he wasn’t throwing it in irritation anymore. “Iruka-sensei complimented her,” he muttered begrudgingly.
“Oh?” Itachi raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“He said her chakra control is good,” Sasuke said, rolling his eyes like the idea was absurd. “Better than anyone in the class.”
Itachi nodded thoughtfully. “That’s impressive.”
Sasuke frowned, looking down at the shuriken in his hand. “I don’t get it. She’s terrible at everything else. What’s the point of good chakra control if you can’t even fight?”
Itachi smiled faintly. “Maybe she just needs the right training. The right sensei.”
Itachi pushed himself off and stepped closer. He had seen this pattern before—Sasuke pretending not to care, masking his interest with irritation. Itachi had known him long enough to recognize when something had gotten under his skin.
Or in this case, someone.
“You know of Lady Tsunade?” Itachi asked, his voice steady, as if he were simply making conversation.
Sasuke’s fingers briefly stilled around the shuriken before he gave a short nod. “Aa.”
Itachi crossed his arms. “She can break a mountain with a single punch.”
That got his attention.
Sasuke’s head snapped up, his dark eyes widening in disbelief. “How?”
Itachi smirked slightly at his reaction. “She uses her chakra control to enhance her strength. With precise chakra manipulation, she can direct an immense amount of power into a single strike.”
Sasuke’s expression shifted as he processed the information, brows drawing together in thought. “Really?” There was something in his voice now—something close to awe, though he would never admit it.
Itachi nodded. “And that’s not all. Her chakra control is so refined that she’s able to use it for medical ninjutsu. She can heal injuries that would be fatal to most. It even allows her to maintain a youthful appearance.”
Sasuke blinked, clearly re-evaluating his previous judgment. Itachi could practically see the gears turning in his head. His little brother was logical to a fault, always weighing strength and skill. And now, the very thing he had dismissed as useless was suddenly being presented as a path to immense power.
Then, Sasuke did something interesting.
“Sakura should train with her,” he muttered, as if the thought had formed and left his mouth before he could stop it.
Itachi hid his amusement well, though his eyes gleamed with it.
“Sakura, huh?”
The reaction was immediate.
Sasuke stiffened, his entire body going rigid as if struck by lightning. His eyes widened slightly, and then, just as quickly, narrowed into a scowl.
Itachi felt a smile tug at his lips.
His little brother had been so careful—so determined not to say her name. For months, he had danced around it, referring to her vaguely, avoiding any direct acknowledgment of her existence beyond grumbling complaints.
And yet, here he was, saying her name without hesitation.
Realizing his mistake, Sasuke let out an annoyed “Tch,” then threw the shuriken with unnecessary force. It hit the target dead center with a sharp thunk, as if punishing it for his own slip-up.
Itachi chuckled softly. “So, she does have potential in your eyes.”
Sasuke crossed his arms, his glare now fully fixed on the target, refusing to look at his brother. “I didn’t say that.”
“Mm.” Itachi let his amusement seep into his tone. “Of course not.”
Sasuke clenched his jaw, clearly irritated. Itachi knew Sasuke annoyed that he always saw through him so easily.
Itachi reached out and gave Sasuke a small pat on the head, earning an immediate grunt of protest. He couldn’t help but smile.
“You’ll see, Sasuke,” he said, turning to walk away. “Given the right training, she may surprise you one day.”
He didn’t need to see Sasuke’s face to know the boy was still scowling. He also didn’t need to turn around to know that Sasuke was standing there, staring at the target but not really seeing it—lost in thought, replaying the conversation in his head, probably trying to convince himself that none of it mattered.
But Itachi knew better.
He knew that name—Sakura—was still echoing in Sasuke’s mind.
Itachi had been away on a mission for two weeks, and though he had missed the quiet comfort of home, nothing could have prepared him for the scene that greeted him as he approached the Uchiha compound’s front gate.
There, standing just outside, was Sasuke—arms crossed, brow furrowed, looking thoroughly exasperated as he spoke in a rapid, irritated tone. Opposite him stood a small girl with bright pink hair, clutching a basket to her chest. She looked both nervous and determined, though her bottom lip trembled slightly as if she were trying not to cry.
Itachi halted his steps, watching with mild amusement.
So this was the girl.
The one Sasuke never stopped talking about, yet stubbornly refused to name for months.
The first thing Itachi noticed was how tiny she was compared to his little brother, though she stood her ground even as Sasuke rambled at her. The second thing he noticed was that, despite the tension in the air, there was no real hostility between them.
Sasuke’s tone was sharp, but not cruel.
The girl—Sakura, his mind supplied—was nervous, but not afraid.
Interesting.
“Sasuke,” Itachi called out smoothly, announcing his presence.
Both of them whipped their heads in his direction, eyes widening in surprise.
Sakura looked like she had just seen a ghost, her big green eyes going even rounder. Sasuke, on the other hand, stiffened immediately, his expression morphing into one of unmistakable wariness—as if he already knew what was coming.
Itachi smirked slightly.
“You brought a friend?” he mused, deliberately keeping his tone light.
Sasuke shot him a look that very clearly said, Don’t start.
It only made Itachi more amused.
His eyes flickered toward Sakura, who was now staring at the ground, clutching the basket even tighter. He could see how tense she was, as if standing at the gate of the Uchiha compound was something she never imagined herself doing.
Poor girl. Had Sasuke been that harsh with her?
Itachi turned back to her and offered a gentle smile. “And who is this beautiful young lady?”
At his words, Sakura’s entire face turned red. She immediately straightened her posture and bowed—so deeply that it looked like she might tip over.
“I-I’m sorry, Uchiha-san!” she blurted, her voice high-pitched with nerves. “My name is Sakura Haruno! It’s an honor to meet you!”
Itachi blinked, slightly taken aback by how formal she was.
Sasuke, standing beside her, let out an annoyed groan, rubbing his temple like he was already regretting everything about this encounter.
Itachi chuckled. “Sakura, calm down. You’re welcome here.”
Sakura hesitated, then peeked up at him through her pink bangs. “R-Really?”
Itachi gave her another reassuring smile. “Of course.”
Relief washed over her face, but just as quickly, she seemed to remember something, because she panicked all over again. “T-Thank you, Uchiha-san!” She bowed again.
Itachi sighed, his amusement growing. “You don’t have to be so formal.”
“But—”
“Just call me Itachi,” he said, voice kind but firm.
Sakura’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked at Sasuke uncertainly, as if seeking permission, but Sasuke just scowled and looked away.
“Itachi-san…?” she asked hesitantly.
Itachi nodded. “That’s better.”
Sasuke, meanwhile, was growing visibly more irritated with every passing second. His face was slightly pink, his jaw tight, and his foot was tapping against the ground impatiently.
Itachi smirked, he turned back to Sakura and gestured toward the basket she was still clutching to her chest. “So, what’s this?”
Sakura instantly tensed again, her entire body going rigid.
“I—I brought something f-for Sasuke-kun…” she mumbled, voice growing smaller by the second.
Sasuke let out a loud, annoyed tch, crossing his arms even tighter against his chest. His gaze was fixed stubbornly on the ground, refusing to look at the small girl standing in front of him.
“I told you, I don’t want it,” he muttered, his voice sharp and dismissive.
Sakura visibly flinched at his words. Her tiny fingers gripped the handle of the basket so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Itachi could see the way her lower lip trembled, her green eyes wide with distress.
“I—I’m so sorry!” she suddenly blurted out, her words tumbling over each other in a panicked rush. “I didn’t mean to bother you, Sasuke-kun! I just—I didn’t know! I really shouldn’t have brought these, I should’ve asked first, I just—” She swallowed hard, her voice shaking. “I just didn’t want Sasuke-kun to miss Valentine's Day without a gift, I—”
She stopped abruptly, as if realizing she had said too much. Her face burned with embarrassment, and she clutched the basket even closer to her chest, as if trying to shrink into herself.
Itachi watched the scene unfold with quiet amusement, though he couldn’t help but feel a little pity for the girl. She was young, nervous, and clearly wore her heart on her sleeve. He could already tell—Sasuke was right. She was too soft. But at the same time, there was something undeniably earnest about her.
“Sasuke,” Itachi finally spoke, his tone calm but firm.
Sasuke’s shoulders tensed immediately, as if already anticipating a scolding. He turned his head slightly, eyes flickering up toward his older brother with a scowl.
Before Itachi could say anything else, Sakura quickly stepped forward, shaking her head frantically. “I-I'm sorry, Itachi-san! Please don’t be mad at Sasuke-kun!” she pleaded, her voice trembling.
Itachi blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her reaction.
Sakura clutched the basket to her chest, her green eyes shining with determination despite the obvious nervousness in her expression. “Sasuke-kun didn’t do anything wrong! I shouldn’t have assumed he’d want something like this! It was my fault for not asking first! Please don’t be angry at him!”
Itachi stared at her for a moment before a small smile tugged at his lips. Interesting. Even after being so harshly rejected, her first instinct was to defend Sasuke.
Sasuke, on the other hand, groaned, rubbing his temples as if this entire situation was giving him a headache. “Tch. Stop saying stupid things, Sakura. He’s not mad.”
Sakura blinked up at him. “Oh…” She hesitated, then bowed deeply. “I-I’m sorry for assuming, Itachi-san.”
Itachi chuckled softly. “There’s no need to apologize, Sakura. I’m not angry.”
Sakura lifted her head, looking relieved.
Itachi turned his gaze toward Sasuke, who was still pouting, clearly frustrated by the whole exchange. His little brother had always been the type to push people away before they could get too close. But this girl… she didn’t seem to be deterred by his cold attitude.
“What is it that you brought, Sakura?” Itachi asked, glancing at the basket she was still clutching.
Sakura hesitated again before mumbling, “Dango…”
At that, Itachi’s interest piqued. He glanced at Sasuke, whose face remained blank, then back at Sakura, who was still visibly nervous. “Dango, you say?”
Sakura nodded quickly. “Y-Yes! But I didn’t know Sasuke-kun didn’t like sweets! I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry—”
Itachi chuckled, interrupting her before she could go off on another anxious ramble. “That’s my favorite, actually.”
Sakura’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. “R-Really, Itachi-san?”
Itachi smiled at her reassuringly. “Really. If Sasuke refuses, I’d be more than happy to accept them.”
Sakura’s face turned bright red, and she quickly looked down, fidgeting with the basket’s handle. “O-Oh! Um, if you’d like them, then please, Itachi-san!” She eagerly held the basket out to him with both hands.
Before Itachi could reach for it, however, Sasuke suddenly let out an annoyed huff. “Tch. Whatever. I never said I hate sweets. Just… not too much of them.”
Itachi smirked, immediately picking up on the shift in Sasuke’s demeanor.
Sakura hesitated, her green eyes flickering between the two brothers. She shifted uncertainly on her feet, clutching the basket in her hands. “S-So… should I still give them to Itachi-san…?” she asked, her voice small and unsure.
Sasuke scowled, crossing his arms. He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he let out a frustrated huff. “You already brought them here. Might as well just leave them.”
Itachi watched the exchange with growing amusement. How predictable. Sasuke was clearly annoyed, but there was something else beneath his irritation—something he probably didn’t even realize himself.
Sakura hesitated for another second before nodding and carefully handing the basket to Itachi. “Um, then, please enjoy them, Itachi-san.”
Itachi accepted the gift with a polite nod, smiling. “Thank you, Sakura.” He glanced at the sky for a brief moment before turning back to her. “Would you like to come inside? It would be rude of me to accept a gift and not invite you in.”
Sakura’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh, no! I don’t want to intrude, I was just—”
“She’s leaving,” Sasuke cut in sharply, stepping forward.
Sakura blinked, confused by his sudden interruption. “H-Huh?”
Before she could fully process what was happening, Sasuke reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Sakura’s entire face turned red in an instant. “W-Wait, Sasuke-kun—!”
She tried to turn back to look at Itachi, her expression flustered, but Sasuke had already started dragging her away.
Itachi arched an eyebrow as he observed the scene. Sasuke, despite all his usual complaints and dismissive words, wasn’t pulling her roughly. No, it was subtle—but gentle.
Sakura stumbled slightly, but Sasuke slowed his steps just enough for her to catch up, without even realizing he was doing it.
Itachi, of course, did notice.
A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. His little brother really was an open book—to him, at least. Sasuke could glare, scowl, and pretend all he wanted, but Itachi could see right through the carefully constructed facade.
As Sakura struggled to turn her head back toward him, her voice was still flustered. “W-Wait, Sasuke-kun! I didn’t say goodbye to Itachi-san—”
Sasuke let out another irritated grunt but didn’t stop walking.
Itachi chuckled and gave her a small wave.
Sakura, despite still being dragged away, managed to flash him a bright, grateful smile before Sasuke pulled her out of sight.
Once they were gone, Itachi stood there for a moment, his gaze lingering on the spot where they had disappeared.
They were both so innocent.
He glanced down at the basket in his hands, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
Sasuke doesn’t even realize it yet, does he?
Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he turned on his heel and headed inside.
He wasn’t sure what the future would hold for the two of them, but one thing was clear—Sakura was someone who could make Sasuke better. Someone who might help him break out of his usual coldness, someone who could teach him how to connect with people beyond fighting and rivalry.
Maybe… even someone who could be something more someday.