Naruto: Blind

"At the very end of the hallway, where the bedroom is, there's a seal on the last room," she said quietly, in a timid sort of way. She always used that tone of voice when she knew she was going to perhaps touch on something sensitive, like the death of his clan, or Itachi. Sasuke was glad that in this case it was the latter.

"What of it?" he asked, just managing to keep the snap out of his question. Despite the fact that it was not about that room he avoided so much, he was again reminded of something related to the topic.

"I was wondering why it's there," she continued, not stopping in her sewing, "I didn't go in there when I cleaned the house, because I knew you probably had a reason—just so you know."

She knew him. She knew that he would demand if she disturbed or touched anything, or entered that room, so she answered before being asked. Was he really that predictable? As for the room, he didn't want to answer, but found no reason not to. Why should he tell her? Why shouldn't he? He never wanted to have that room open again, but half of him knew that it would have to be dealt with eventually.

"It was Itachi's bedroom," he said after a moment.

"Oh," it was a quiet response, not much louder than her breathing had been.

"It's ransacked," he stated before Sakura could ask any more questions, "And hasn't been opened since I placed the seal nine years ago."

"It should be cleaned out," she said after a moment's pause.

He scowled and lowered his arm from his head, glaring in her general direction. Sakura didn't shift from her spot at his action—she didn't flinch at his glares like she had when they were younger; either it was because he could no longer meet her gaze, or he was losing his touch. Either way, it annoyed him.

"That room is no longer part of this house," he stated stubbornly, once again resentful that Sakura couldn't understand, "To open it would to make it part of it again."

"Sasuke, if you don't want that room in this house, then hire some renovators to get rid of it," she stated patiently, "It's on the corner of the house, and I'm sure a flowerbed could be installed in the space created outside. Or adjoin it to another room, so that it becomes a new room. Right now it's just a waste of perfectly good space, and I imagine that you can afford to have renovations done."

This was true. Being the only survivor of his clan, he had inherited all the money of the Uchihas. Families of those who had relatives that had married into the Uchiha clan got money from their deceased kin, but the money from anyone who had borne the Uchiha name for generations was given to Sasuke—the last living Uchicha, who had had parents that both had the name of Uchiha before marriage. Needless to say, he was not penniless; while he had donated about a half of it to the village, out of simple psychological rejection of the money, there was still a sizable sum left over. He would have kept even less, if the Third Hokage hadn't refused any more than half. Money awarded from missions had also added up over time, and there was interest to take into consideration. But even though he could afford the renovations…

"I don't want that room opened," he emphasized again.

The rational part of his mind was telling him to listen to her, to be sensible. It was a waste of space, as she had said, but the part of his mind that was passionate about his hatred for Itachi was dominant at the moment, and reason was shunted to the side, ignored. Maybe it was because she could sense that he was angry, or maybe because she felt that he needed some sort of condolence, but Sakura laid her mending aside and grasped his hand in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles tenderly. Sasuke did nothing; Sakura didn't say anything. It was one of those rare times that he would let her touch him with no complaints uttered, no questions asked, just a poignant silence and a trace of understanding in the air.

A loud shout pierced the peaceful slumber that Sakura had been experiencing, her beautiful dreams cut away in an instant. Sitting up sharply, she cursed herself for falling asleep when she was on her breaks at the hospital; she needed to be ready at an instant, and couldn't afford to sleep—someone's life could be on the line! Tsunade would probably give her a lecture once she…

It was dark around her, save for some faded light spilling in through the window on her left; she blinked in disorientation, when another shout—a curse word, followed by some muttering—caught her attention. She wasn't in the hospital, she remembered, berating herself; she was in Sasuke's house, and asleep on the futon that sat in the empty corner of his room. How long had she been sleeping here? Just over two weeks already; one would think she would be used to it by… Her eyes widened in concern; the cry that had woken her had come from Sasuke. Sharply she looked over at Sasuke's form, scrambling out of her makeshift bed and shrugging her bathrobe. She hurried to his side, not bothering to tie the sash.

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