…What if it wasn't a dream?
Frantically he searched for her chakra signature in the room, trembling so hard that he could hardly form the seal that would help him with control over his own chakra. She wasn't there. She had to be though, she slept here; she had to be…
He scrambled to get out of bed, but his legs were tangled in the sheets and he fell off of it to the floor in a graceless heap. Frozen in the spot momentarily, he listened hard around him, his heartbeat drowning out most of the noises around him. If Itachi was here, he could have heard… If Itachi was here then… Itachi was here. Sakura was missing.
Sakura was missing.
He quickly scrambled to the door of his room, and fumbled to get it open, his breathing irregular and panicky. Two thoughts kept floating across his mind as he half-walked, half-crawled down the hallway: Itachi was here, and Sakura was missing. He had to get to her before Itachi…
He was searching around randomly now, his senses heightened with the instinct of self-preservation, but he tuned most of them out. Deaf to all but his own heartbeat, he ignored the touch and smell of the world around him as he desperately searched for the slightest sign of life that would confirm that Sakura was still alive somewhere. It was then that he caught the slightest flicker on the edge of his awareness. It was faint, it was barely detectable, but it was there.
He was going the right direction, down the hall, her signature; he could sense it. All other senses were gone, he only knew her signature, nothing else; he locked onto it like it was a beacon of light in the storm, a flame in the darkness that enveloped him. Automatically he followed the path of the house he knew, and as he reached the end of the hallway, a new sense of horror grasped at him like an icy claw. The door he stood in front of…
The room that she lay in—it was Itachi's room.
Sakura could be in danger, he reminded himself suddenly, that fear being greater than any reasons why she would in Itachi's room. With trembling hands, he felt for the handle on the door; he did not turn it right away, afraid of what might meet him on the other side of the wooden slab. He did not linger long though, and with caution, he turned the handle, and slowly pushed the door open.
It was silent; there was no sound of surprise, no rustling of robes. He waited for the smell of blood to reach his nose, but none came. Cautiously he searched for another signature in the room, but he could not detect one, the only sign of life was coming from Sakura. The signature was so faint though, he noted with apprehension as he crawled forwards into the room; she wasn't dead, which was good, but perhaps injured or unconscious?
He knelt down next to her, listening carefully to her breathing. It was regular, unlabored, peaceful, and deep—she was asleep. Relief flooded over him with such force that he felt that he could have almost cried. She was asleep, not unconscious, not injured. Not dead. Itachi was not here. Sakura had moved to another room because of her father. He remembered now.
With a trembling hand he reached out, and when his fingers met her skin, he brushed it slightly in a sort of caress. Lying down next to her, he encircled his arms around her waist, holding on tightly. She was lying on her side, facing away from him, so when he pulled her closer to him, her back was against his chest. A primary thought was drifting around firmly in his mind, echoing around sharply and clearly. They were not safe, neither of them were. Itachi was still out there and he was a threat. As long as his brother lived, no one would be safe—Sakura would not be safe. He had to protect her; he had to keep her safe.
He had to.
.
.
.
‼️If you want to access advanced chapters, wait no more and subscribe to my Ko-Fi, where you can buy books in completely downloadable PDF format.‼️
☕️ko-fi.com/skyarc☕️