Chapter 12 – Teammates

Chapter 12 – Teammates

After following a few more curves in the river, Sakura looked up the flat bank to where an unassuming footpath spurred off, hopscotched across the water on broad stones, then rose with the land on the other side.

They followed the narrow trail down to the river’s edge in silence. There was simply nothing more to say. But before she could sink her foot down onto the first stone, Katsuro laid a hand across her arm to stop her.

She did stop, and waited, watching him all the while, but Katsuro did not seem inclined to move. In fact he appeared to be deep in thought. However whatever was troubling him he quickly buried in activity.

The rogue turned back and, never looking directly at her, took up both hands in his. It was so formal and strange, such an out of place movement, that for an instant Sakura thought he was going to vow something to her. Clutch her hands, look into her eyes and make a rash promise of some sort. But it never came.

Instead he pushed her hands together, caught up the long leather strap and wrapped it snugly around her free arm, binding both together as he had done days ago.

She was a fool, she thought as she closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of unruly brown locks swinging over her arms. She needed to be making a plan, not wishing to be saved.

His task finished, Katsuro looked back across the river and blew out a low breath. Sakura just felt sick. Now, the silence was oppressive.

Finally, rough fingertips traced up the bindings past her elbow, grazing the rippled scar. Katsuro closed his hand around her upper arm and gave a slight squeeze, signaling it was time to move again.

They crossed the river and moved up the steeper bank until the land flattened out. Trees spread away from them on all sides, running right up to the high canyon walls. Sakura recognized a handful neatly organized tents nestled against the base of the cliff.

Though afternoon light streamed down to the valley floor and riverbed, it did not reach those tents. Like ghosts in shadows, they seemed to hover there, ominous and quiet. A limp breeze rippled the outside edges of pale canvas. The movement fluttered Sakura’s insides with dread.

“Please,” she let out a thin half-cry, her fears getting the best of her.

“Just tell me what he’s going to do to me. I would rather know, and be ready,” she whispered desperately. “Not knowing what’s going to happen is worse.”

Katsuro was robbed of a response. He had been where she was right now. Lived in it for years and years.

“You can’t fake it through a genjutsu,” she added.

“No,” Katsuro answered slowly, never taking his gaze from the line of tents. “Just answer his questions.”

He lapsed into silence again, trying to think of a way out for her. Itachi’s genjutsus were nothing if not cruel. But if she cooperated, then maybe there wouldn’t be a need for it. He made up his mind.

“Listen closely,” Katsuro whispered, yanking his face wraps down. He urged her to continue walking, but dipped his head next to hers and spoke quickly. “Answer his questions, but don’t look in his eyes. Look anywhere else on his face, but not his eyes.” He knew she was familiar with genjutsu, but telling her how to fight Itachi’s made him feel better anyway.

“You want me to fight it?” she said in disbelief. Was Katsuro telling her to thwart his master? Then he’d surely kill her, she thought.

“No. Cooperate. Tell him everything. Don’t hold back. And you said so yourself, you don’t know that much, so you don’t need to hide anything. But don’t get caught in his genjutsu,” he said darkly. “If you do, then there’s no way out until he’s finished with you.”

Katsuro didn’t know if he could break Itachi’s illusions, even a low level one. He’d never tried. But if all went well, he wouldn’t have to. He was hoping that if she divulged what she knew, then Itachi would turn her back over to him. If Konoha didn’t want her, and he could convince Itachi that she was a worthwhile ally, an excellent addition to their group, then the older nin could have no objections.

The tents loomed large in front of them, cloth sides snapped softly in the buffeting wind. Sakura’s heart was hammering against her ribcage, her throat dry.

“Don’t look at his hands, either,” Katsuro whispered hastily, remembering almost too late. But there was no more time. The canvas flap pulled back and Itachi himself stepped out. His face was just as cold as she remembered.

The elder Uchiha sibling nodded curtly at Katsuro then ducked back inside the large tent, never sparing a glance at the kunoichi. He was obviously just coming to look for them.

Sakura ignored the stab of panic and focused on her companion’s words. She would do her best to evade Itachi’s genjutsu and answer whatever questions she could.

‘Within reason,’ she thought nervously, stepping under the fabric flap ahead of Katsuro.

The doorway swished closed behind them, and it was as if all the color had been drained from the world. Off-white fabric draped from the top and fell down the sides to form walls. Finely woven straw mats of the faintest yellow covered the floors, fitting together like a puzzle. Only a slim, dark brown table that doubled as Itachi’s desk stood out, cutting a harsh line against the farthest wall.

Though the interior was larger than she expected, Sakura thought the colorless room was suffocating. But maybe that was the point, she thought darkly.

Itachi flicked a lazy finger toward the middle of the room, and Katsuro guided her over to kneel. Stealing a glance at him as she dropped down, the kunoichi was keenly aware that Katsuro would no longer make eye contact with her. Instead he stood beside her and faced his master.

Leaning casually against the desk, Itachi cleared his throat. Sakura turned instinctively at the sound, but remember Katsuro’s warning at the last moment. She trained her eyes on the red cloud emblazoned across the front of his cloak. At the edge of her vision, she saw Itachi steeple his long fingers lazily in front of him.

The nukenin was deathly still except for the occasional tapping of his first two fingers together. Sakura drew in a long breath threw her nose, let it out slowly, and willed herself to wait it out. She didn’t know why Katsuro told her not to look at his hands, but she would do as he said, no matter how many little innocuous movements Itachi made.

“I am surprised your sensei hasn’t come for you,” the man’s deep voice broke the silence.

Sakura said nothing, but her eyes widened a fraction at his words. She had been surprised too. For Kakashi to leave her went against everything she knew about him.

“I know all about you, you see,” Itachi continued pleasantly, letting his hands fall to his sides. His tone had changed, and he addressed her easily as if they were picking up their ‘conversation’ from days before. “You will find we have a lot in common.”

Sakura felt queasy. Her thoughts had been clear on her face. She was giving too much away, and he was acting on it.

“I would like to know how some of my old compatriots are faring. Perhaps you could enlighten me,” he voiced smoothly, letting the sentence hang there in the air.

The kunoichi didn’t move though. Something in what he said, what he asked, didn’t ring true. He was reading her smallest movements, looking for a connection. He was a master of genjutsu — a master — and she knew the easiest illusions were built on trust or spun around some common chord that connected the wielder and his victim.

Sakura’s mind went into overdrive, analyzing what she’d experienced, even as she sat still as stone. He wasn’t asking specific questions, so he must not be looking for a certain answer. She knew, as he would too, that she would be guarded about her team, especially about Sasuke.

But maybe he was watching for something else. Sakura cast back to her first encounter with him. He had goaded her till she behaved the way he wished, drawing her eyes to his face. He was testing her responses, looking for reactions.

She couldn’t fathom why, but now she had something to go on, and she would thwart him as best as she could.

The kunoichi clamped down her jaw and stared hard at that blood red cloud. She wouldn’t answer, and she wouldn’t let any feeling float to the surface, no matter how intimidating he was.

Itachi didn’t miss that change either.

“Konoha has fed you many lies, I see,” he continued, the false pleasantness gone from his voice.

But the medic-nin didn’t flinch.

“I wonder if you are as weak as your teammate, my younger brother, always stumbling, always failing. A disgrace to the Uchiha clan,” he bit out.

“Then again, no. You have been left behind. Konoha has deemed your usefulness at an end,” he sneered at her. “They would never let Sasuke out of their sight now. He is a prize to be protected above all things, isn’t he.” He paused, but she never wavered.

“Sasuke’s life in return for his betrayal of the clan, I think that was the arrangement he had with Konoha,” Itachi continued, observing the girl closely.

Sakura had never heard that version of events, but it would do no good to trust in them. She didn’t know much about Itachi, but she was certain he would go to great lengths to get what he wanted. And now he wanted something from her. Though inwardly chilled, Sakura put on an air of nonchalance, half-lowered her eyelids in boredom. She was about to add a yawn to her repertoire when Itachi snapped.

“It seems Konoha has gotten one thing right, though” he growled. She allowed herself a glance at the thin line of his mouth. It folded into a deep frown. “They have already seen you for what you are: a waste of their time. Just as you are a waste of mine.”

Itachi pushed off from the desk, cloak swirling at his ankles, and returned to the other side of the table. He motioned to Katsuro as he walked.

Shoulders tightening minutely, the younger nin obliged and left her still kneeling on the rigid tatami mat.

Sakura had been so consumed with deflecting Itachi’s manipulations she had forgotten about Katsuro. Her small satisfaction at thwarting Itachi washed away. Now she had a sinking feeling something was wrong.

Itachi unrolled a scroll, his discomposure a thing of the past. He rolled it back, then took up another, then began speaking in hushed tones to the brown-haired nin. Katsuro stood at the side of his desk, attentively listening. Sakura could see Katsuro’s profile clearly, but his face was wiped clean of emotion.

“A shame,” she finally heard Itachi say, “she really was the perfect choice.” A look of horror flickered across Katsuro’s face, then was gone. Itachi hadn’t noticed, and Sakura was sure if she had not been watching so closely she would have missed it too. “I’ll get what I can from her at any rate.” Itachi stopped to roll up another scroll.

“Thank you, Katsuro,” he rejoined. “I understand the men gave you some trouble but you kept them in line?” the young rogue nodded silently. “Good. Just leave the girl here, and you can go.”

Katsuro turned on his heel, hooked his arm under the kunoichi’s elbow and marched her out of the tent.

Without a word, he walked her to a tree, clamped a hand down on her shoulder, and pushed her back against the rough bark. He never looked at her.

“Kats—” she began, but her throat closed around the word. She swallowed hard, unable to speak again. If he had heard her, then he ignored her, and instead only focused on the task at hand.

Sakura let her head hang as he wrapped the sturdy rope around her midsection. Katsuro wasn’t making her sit this time, which meant she probably wouldn’t be out there long. A weak sob escaped.

She didn’t know what his plan had been, but obviously it had failed.

Sakura was to be left here to wait for Itachi. Katsuro’s kindness had run out.

She couldn’t bear to look at him as he wrapped another length around. Instead, she dropped her head forward and let her hair swing out past both cheeks.

That way, at least, she could hide her miserable tears. She was sick of crying, but she couldn’t hold it back. They streaked down hot and shameful now.

This was where it would end for her. No teammates, no sensei, no village. Not even the kind-hearted rogue would dare cross Itachi. He was busy untying her hands in front, pulling one around the back of the tree. She slid the other around so he could tie it behind. There was no point in fighting her fate now.

She did not run when she had the chance. And now any hope of saving herself was gone.

Tears slicked her face and silently dripped off her chin. Another sob caught in her throat. She wanted to be brave, like a Konoha ninja should. Not like she felt now. She would never betray her village or her teammates, but she still didn’t want to die.

Katsuro came back around in front to adjust some tie. His hands moved in to the line of her sight; Sakura could hardly bear to look at them. But she wasn’t unkind. She had the feeling that if it weren’t for his strict orders, Katsuro would have helped her more.

If this was the end for her, then she wanted to thank him. His kindness had been her only lifeline.

Sakura lifted her head as he leaned toward her again, she swallowed and readied a brief thank you. But a glance at his serious face, his once-friendly brown eyes now turned hard and calculating, only brought more tears to her own.

“So this is where you leave me?” was all she could manage. She didn’t expect an answer. Didn’t expect anything, really. And that made his next movement an utter surprise.

Katsuro seemed to be leaning in to check the bindings again, but instead Sakura felt the curl of knuckles gently drag down one cheek, then the same hand switched to the other side. A warm palm spread over the curve of her cheek, and he thumbed away any remaining tears. Holding her face steady, hidden from view behind his shoulder, Katsuro drew his mouth even with her ear. His shallow breaths stirred the hairs at the edge of her face.

“No,” Katsuro whispered, his voice deep and firm. “I’m not going to leave you.”

A last feather-light stroke of his thumb and he pulled away.

Sakura was in shock, the soft touch coupled with his words drove her to seek out his face, his eyes, to verify the truth of what he was saying. And it was all there in the serious look he flashed at her. He wasn’t giving up, and neither should she. He stood swiftly, leaving the tendrils of hair swinging around her neck, and turned to go.

Sakura was left there at the tree, warmth on her cheek receding, watching his back as he strode to the folded canvas door of the tent, flung it open, then disappeared inside.

Stalking back to the tent, Katsuro was beginning to see the whole picture. They had not trekked over the mountain because he had made a poor choice in abducting the girl, which he never believed in the first place. No, Itachi had needed more time with her because he was going to twist her mind and destroy her life. He was going to apply a much more subtle genjutsu than a simple interrogation one, and return her to her village. Then, he could summon her whenever he needed her. She was to be a spy.

This was an entirely different kind of death sentence. Itachi would kill her when her usefulness was at an end, if her village didn’t kill her first for being a traitor.

Katsuro reflected darkly that he had picked her because she appeared weak. Now, she was too strong to be of use. The irony was sickening.

No, the kunoichi didn’t sit in that temple getting more and more desperate, as Itachi had planned. Katsuro took her on as his particular mission in life, teaching her to back up her natural resilience with a strong punch, among other things.

And Itachi was going to kill her for it.

Fuck, he thought angrily, why couldn’t he have just picked the other one.

Katsuro gripped the edge of the canvas. He had to do something to stop this. Perhaps if he appealed to Itachi, relied on his own responsibility in the mission…. Katsuro didn’t know if it would work, but it was the best option. He flung the canvas flap back and ducked inside.

“Katsuro,” Itachi drawled inquisitively from behind the desk.

Katsuro crossed the mats quickly to stand in front of him. He came right to the point.

“What are you planning for her?” he said, expression neutral. He knew Itachi would suspect something of him. Better not to hide, he thought, instead make his interest in her known.

Itachi merely raised an eyebrow. Katsuro knew the silence was calculated to make him uncomfortable, but he wasn’t interested. He had a goal.

“If it is a genjutsu you are planning, let me ask her first. She trusts me, and I can get the information with minimal damage,” Katsuro said, thinking that was enough reason without explanation. He squared his shoulders and waited for the verdict.

Itachi merely sat forward and rested his chin on a loosely curled hand. But his look of mild disinterest was a lie. Katsuro had seen him do this countless times with much bigger fish than him.

“And you think she’ll answer your questions?” Itachi said, a bemused smile ticking up a corner of his mouth. Black wisps danced at the sides of his face, and his eyes were half closed, observing him.

“Yes, she’ll give you any information you need. She knows she’s been abandoned,” Katsuro said firmly.

But Itachi sat back silently, considering the young nin. He took up a brush from his desk and rolled it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. Katsuro slipped his hands behind his back and waited, only blinking under the weight of of that cold, black stare.

Itachi was nearly unreadable, but that didn’t bother Katsuro. He wasn’t playing a mind game. Katsuro knew he was special, and hopefully that could hold sway here. Itachi set the brush down finally and clasped his hands over the blank scroll.

“You really think that a Konoha nin would give up information that easily? Just ask?” the nukenin said with a smirk. “You know nothing about your own village do you? Perhaps we’ve done too good a job covering your tracks,” he laughed softly.

But the humor did not reach Katsuro. There was an arrogance to Itachi’s words that always burned him. Even though his master had defected from Konoha, he still thought his education second to none. It always showed when dealing with outside nins. Well, Katsuro was no outsider, but he was not brought up in that village. And sometimes when Itachi stressed how different Konoha nins were, how much tougher they were, it angered him to the core. Because aside from this girl, and most times his master, he hated Konoha more than anything else.

“They need to be broken,” Itachi said crisply. “You will learn.”

The edge in his voice put Katsuro on alert. This was not going as he hoped, and Katsuro was beginning to think Itachi would not go along with him. He didn’t want to have to negotiate with Itachi for her freedom, or stop him from harming her out of spite. Katsuro knew if he could just get her to open up—

Itachi stood suddenly, throwing Katsuro off balance. He wasn’t sure what to expect next.

“But, by all means, let’s bring her in and test this theory of yours,” Itachi said, voice rising, arm flung wide in  mock courtesy.

Itachi was not best pleased, but Katsuro didn’t care. He had backed off her, and Katsuro meant to take advantage of that opening. The rogue nin nodded curtly and was out the door before Itachi could say another word.

Now if she just played her part, told him everything, demonstrated herself to be a worthy ally, he thought as he crunched across the forest floor, Itachi could have no objection to the request he was planning.

Katsuro made quick work of untying her, but never looked at her face or responded to any of her whispered questions. Even a glance might give something away if he was being observed.

Sakura kneeled gingerly again on the mat, but this time Katsuro had directed her to stop just inside the entrance to the tent, leaving a wide space between herself and Itachi. The Uchiha only looked daggers at her as he circled around the desk, returning to his previous position.

Face pale, Itachi leaned back against the table and crossed his arms over his chest. His long black ponytail snaked around his neck under the half-open cloak. He exuded an air of displeasure that was nearly palpable. But instead of beginning another round of mind games, he gave a sharp nod to Katsuro.

Katsuro began, formally asking her a few vague questions about where she was from, and whether she was a medic kunoichi. If it was a stab at some sort of interrogation, then it was a laughable one, she thought. Behind him, Itachi smirked at Katsuro’s steady questions. Apparently, he saw through this act too. But Sakura answered him, knowing there was no new information there. They knew exactly what she did and where she was from.

She didn’t know what Katsuro was thinking in performing this charade.

But his questions turned more specific, first about her, then about her teammates. She answered as to her age and rank, but Katsuro interrupted her.

“Really? Only a genin?” Katsuro said in surprise, his false display forgotten.

But Itachi didn’t miss the slip. With predatory control, he snapped his eyes to the younger nin immediately, never moving a muscle. Sakura could only nod nervously. Itachi’s flat, black eyes narrowed to slits, watching them both closely now. This was a dangerous game Katsuro was playing, she thought.

But Katsuro remembered himself and continued.

In rapid-fire succession, he asked about her mission, her teammates, their ranks and skills, but to each question Sakura only shook her head, lips in a thin line, worried expression deepening with each one.

Katsuro was persistent, closing in on her, driving up the tension with each step he took, but there was no way she would answer those questions.

‘What was he thinking? That I would just give them up?’ she thought with another shake of her head.

Itachi was no longer her primary concern. She couldn’t even see him anymore. Katsuro was standing in front of her, hands on his hips. He was angry now, it was clearly written on his face.

Safely blocked from Itachi’s view, Sakura didn’t make any attempt to hide her growing frustration with Katsuro, etiher. She had thought he would get her out of this somehow, not be the one interrogating her.

Shifting his feet, letting his hands relax at his sides, Katsuro changed tack. Maybe if he tried reason with her she would open up, he thought.

“You know, they’ve not come for you, so you can have no fear in telling us anything,” he said easily. “If they thought you had information worth guarding then they’d be here for you. But they’ve never come. Not a single sign. So it’s all ok,” Katsuro smiled. “There’s no reason to withhold anything from us, now.” He fanned an arm out to include the Uchiha, but made the mistake of glancing back. Itachi’s face was darkening by the second.

Katsuro turned back and repeated the questions again. But this time she turned her face away and set her chin, fixing her sightline on the pale tent wall. She was blocking out both him and Itachi out now.

Katsuro was getting nowhere — Itachi cleared his throat quietly behind him — and he was running out of time.

Closing the distance between them, Katsuro squatted quickly down in front of her, throwing caution to the wind. Hidden from view, Katsuro’s face a mix of angry desperation. She glanced at him once, but turned her head away again.

“Listen to me,” he whispered furiously. “if you don’t answer me willingly, then he’ll get what he wants by force. And it will probably kill you.” Only the kunoichi’s throat fluttered from a reflexive swallow, but there was no other movement. It was as if he hadn’t even spoken at all.

“Your teammates don’t care about you. They’ve never seen your true worth. And that damn village has only thrown you away. You don’t have to die for them,” he pleaded.

If something he’d said struck a chord, then he would never know. She set her mouth in a grim frown and shut her eyes.

Her stubbornness made him snap.

“How can you protect them?” he hissed, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet. “If we were on a team, I’d never treat you the way they’ve treated you. I’d never give up on you.” His words tumbled out quickly, but they were honest. He meant it. He’d go to any lengths now, and he was desperate enough to tell her. He just hoped Itachi didn’t hear him.

At that, Sakura’s determined expression softened, and she turned her face back to his. They were mere inches apart now, and she could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A corner of her mouth pulled up into a wistful smile.

“No, you probably wouldn’t,” she said quietly. To this he smiled in return.

“And if we were on a team, I wouldn’t give you up, either,” she said honestly back.

She’d never felt that way about her own teammates. But now she understood what Kakashi-sensei had gone on about — bonds.

Sasuke and Sai were still relying on her, although they would never know it. And if Katsuro was on her team there would be no question she’d be right here fighting for him too. Something clicked inside; she steeled her resolve.

The information she had amounted to nothing. Katsuro was right, it was hardly worth dying for. And though she couldn’t deny that the idea of meeting death at Itachi’s hands was terrifying, she knew now with deep certainty she would never give up information against a fellow Konoha nin.

Katsuro’s last comment made the difference. Teammates were for protecting. Now she knew what Kakashi meant.

“Thank you, Katsuro,” she said quietly, “for everything.”

Confusion skittered across his face. Katsuro rocked back on his heels in disbelief, but it quickly turned to fury.

“You still won’t give them up?” he exploded.

Behind him, Itachi snorted in disdain. Katsuro knew what he was thinking, Konoha ninja are unyielding and have to be broken. She had overthrown everything and proved Itachi right.

But Katsuro wasn’t letting go yet.

“No!” he said loudly. He stood, hands on hips, and glared fiercely at her. She watched him openly, then mirrored his expression with a determined look of her own.

“I won’t let you do this—” he said, eyes narrowed and fingers digging in, but a decisive voice from behind cut him off.

“That’s enough” Itachi said firmly. “You’re through with this dalliance, Katsuro.”

But Katsuro didn’t move. Still glaring at the frustrating kunoichi, he kept his back to his master.

Damn her, he thought. She had him caught in the middle, just like on the road. But here, she was the one who needed protecting, not a couple of children. If he didn’t intervene, she would be killed. That was a certainty. He didn’t know how he could persuade Itachi to let her stay with him after this. But he knew now that he was the only one who could make the difference.

Woven mats creaked together. Itachi’s steps shattered the stillness and broke the horrid tableau. Katsuro turned on his heel to face him. Itachi merely stopped in place, but Katsuro wasn’t yielding.

The scene was not lost upon Itachi. Standing defiantly, Katsuro’s hands in tight fists at his sides and a hard look on his face, the young nin literally blocked his way to the girl.

“She’s my responsibility, isn’t she?” Katsuro challenged. A look of mild surprise crept across Itachi’s face.

He crossed back to the older nin and said lowly, “I’ll see this through. Tell me what you need to know, and I’ll get the information for you.”

Itachi looked past the hard-faced young man to the wide-eyed girl kneeling on the mat. Katsuro had formed some sort of attachment to her, that much was clear.

“Yes. She is your responsibility, isn’t she,” Itachi said slowly, eyes narrowed. He hesitated, but he saw no reason to stop Katsuro. “Let’s just hope you set your traps a little more wisely than this pathetic display.”

Katsuro said nothing, just waited for him finish.

“I need to know about Sasuke,” Itachi said tightly. “I need to find out about his sharingan, how it’s progressing. Find out about his skill level, any jutsus he knows. Where he is living, what his day is like. I want to know every last detail of his miserable life. Any small scrap may prove useful in the future.”

“Hai,” Katsuro said, and immediately turned to leave.

If the young rogue was surprised that Itachi agreed so quickly, then he didn’t let on. Katsuro quickly collected the girl and pushed her through the door.

Itachi returned to his work, swept the long arms of his cloak back and prepared to go over another scroll, but his thoughts turned to his young ward. Katsuro had an attachment to the girl, it was very clear. And Itachi knew those were easiest weaknesses to manipulate.

It suited him to let Katsuro pull out whatever information he could from the kunoichi. Saved him the trouble.

‘But when he’s done,’ thought Itachi darkly, ‘I’ll teach him a lesson about attachments he won’t forget.’

---

Fingers tightly squeezed around her elbow, they quick-stepped away from the tents and back down into the woods along the riverside, tromping over brush and snapping driftwood lodged among the trees as they went. Finally they stopped at a small clearing between a few fallen trees. Sakura could see the a cluster of rocks, half buried in dirt apparently displaced from the last time the river flooded it’s banks. She remembered what he’d said about floods through their last camp. It was obviously to hide their tracks.

He silently unfastened the bindings in the front of her, then tied her hands together behind a tree standing at the edge of the makeshift campsite.

“I’ll be back,” he said quietly.

“I—,” she began, but he didn’t want to hear it. He turned and left before she could get anything else out. It didn’t matter, she thought resignedly, there was nothing to say. Only the need to explain herself nagged at her. But even that was pointless.

They were both in over their heads now, she thought, watching him hop over a fallen log. His cloak draped over the tree as he cleared it, but slipped off after him a soft zip. Then he disappeared into the thicket without another sound.

Whatever his plan was, or whatever he thought was going to happen, didn’t. Sakura could tell things went deeply awry. And now Katsuro was having to do something instead of Itachi. Or rather, do something to her in Itachi’s place.

If she had to guess, then genjutsu or torture were at the top of the list. But as twigs snapped in the direction Katsuro had recently left by, she saw with surprise he was returning with two bowls in his hand. Though the list wasn’t long, dinner was definitely not on it.

He set both bowls down on a flat rock, untied her, but left the wrapping still wound up one arm. After shedding their wretched cloaks, Katsuro shoved a bowl into her hands and both sat down heavily on a fallen tree.

Hungrier than she thought, and at a lack of words to say to the boy next to her, Sakura silently chewed through the strange, grey meat. There was a second piece in her bowl, and she thought maybe more rations meant a more permanent camp until she looked over at Katsuro’s untouched food. It was just rice, no meat.

Had he given her his portion, she thought with dismay. She wouldn’t accept it though, she knew he was just as hungry as she was.

Sakura picked up the meat between her chopsticks and meant to pass it back into his bowl.

“Here, you need to eat too,” she said, but he shied her away with his hand, putting the untouched bowl on the other side of him.

“Not hungry,” he said distractedly. But Sakura thought he was lying. Though he had a plethora of moods, ‘not hungry’ was not one of them.

Maybe this was her last meal, she thought morbidly as she took another bite.

Sakura knew Katsuro had a plan, and that somehow she had thwarted it. But she would never willingly betray her village, no matter how desperate the situation seemed. Maybe that’s just a fundamental difference between a rogue nin and a village one, she thought.

But it didn’t stop her from being grateful to him. She was working out something to say, grinding through the tough meat, and simply wasn’t paying attention to him. If she had been looking closer she may have noticed that Katsuro was working out something of an entirely different sort.

The rogue nin’s stomach was in a knot. He knew this was his only chance to work over an interrogation genjutsu on her, but he was at a loss as to how to initiate it. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

Some of the key components for success were already out the window. He had to be detached from her to seamlessly begin it, and she had to be open enough for the jutsu to take hold and be effective. The element of surprise was often the easiest way to ensure success, but he’d lost that with her. And a safe emotional distance from her was a thing of the past. He was sure even Itachi saw it. Fuck, he thought, tightening his fist.

“Katsuro,” the kunoichi said, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up at her as she placed the bowl of food to the side. She studied his whole face. “If it were you, I would protect you too.”

Katsuro blinked, mouth parted just slightly as he worked over her words. He looked as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“You mean, if we were on a team together, and someone asked you to give up information about me,” he said slowly, the tightness at the corners of his eye softening.

“Yeah,” she said simply. The strange half-hurt expression made him look more like a lost kid than a rogue ninja, and the sympathetic tug she felt was so strong she had to look away.

Her wavering brought Katsuro back to reality. This may be his only chance, he thought grimly.

Life seemed to be one cruel twist after another, he thought. That she would protect him. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. And now he had to use it as his opening for a genjutsu. He hated to do it.

But Katsuro felt the same as she did, he would do whatever he had to to protect her. And right now, that meant pulling out enough information to keep Itachi at bay.

“Like teammates?” he said warmly. She looked back at him, and Katsuro smiled encouragingly, making sure to catch her eyes. The kunoichi returned a small smile, curled her hair behind her ears, and meant to turn away again out of embarrassment, but Katsuro stopped her. “What if I were from your village, on your team?”

He laid a hand on her arm and scooted closer, the coarse fabric of his pants brushing up against her bare knee. Looking deeper into her eyes, Katsuro let the warm threads of their chakra intermingle. Their surroundings began to ebb.

“Tell me,” he said softly. “What would our day be like? How would it start? Would we train in the morning? Then get lunch together?” His voice was warm, and the happy crinkle at the corners of his eyes had returned. The slight pressure on her arm was reassuring.

“It would be great,” she said, giving in to the idea with a sigh, letting the easiness of it all wash over her.

“Tell me about it,” he said nodding and smiling back. He wondered if the genjutsu had completely taken hold yet, if she felt it’s warm, comforting effects. He wondered darkly if she suspected it of him.

But she smiled brilliantly in return, and Katsuro was so close he was distracted momentarily by the apricot-colored freckles dotted across the tops of her normally pale cheeks. The only happy result of two days in the sun, he thought, returning his own wistful smile. She blinked once, lashes curling against her skin, before fixing those bottomless green eyes on his face again.

He was going to ask another leading question, but her gaze pinned him. When he’d first seen her eyes, he dismissed the pleasant leaf-green color as different, but not unusual. Now, like everything else about her, he realized there was so much more.

Close enough to see the striations of color, dark and light greens fusing together, Katsuro realized that there was a sparkling quality there that had been missing. Her smile brought a light to her eyes.

He’d first recognized it at the temple, the carefree happiness she exuded, and it made all the difference.

Having lived without it for a few days, he knew now he hated to see her eyes dim in sadness.

Katsuro frowned a little to himself. The color was maybe not just that of a single leaf but the whole canopy of a tree, only brought to life by the sunlight behind it. That is, if he had to try to describe it, he told himself.

The kunoichi mirrored his expression, tilting her head with a small, puzzled frown of her own, and Katsuro shook himself of the reverie.

“So, what would it be like if I were in Konoha?” he continued warmly. “Would your teammates like me?”

She smiled fully back at him and began to speak. Katsuro didn’t even have to check, the illusion had knit around them completely.