Chapter Text
It was a rare occasion that the majority of the Akatsuki was gathered outside of official meetings. Someone was always away, either out earning money, on personal business, or gathering information on the whereabouts of the tailed-beasts.
Even Konan and Pain, sitting separately in their own little corner, were present in the cafeteria of the highrise that served as the Akatsuki's public-facing base of operations.
The only one who wasn't there was Zetsu.
Tobi decided to take advantage of the situation by climbing onto a table and proclaiming loudly: “I dare someone to get married!”
He was, after all, supposed to be playing the fool.
Deidara, who was sitting in front of him, scoffed as he looked up from the miniature clay figures he was carefully sculpting, “Why don't you do it, yeah? Oh wait, who'd want to marry an idiot?”
“If she was a rich heiress, and then I kill her after…” Kakuzu's eyes narrowed, his expression turning calculating. He had bags of money in front of him and was counting them out.
Hidan sneered at Kakuzu from across the table. “You wouldn't give her the death she deserves.”
Sasori, who wasn't utilizing Hiruko today, didn't react as he fiddled with a complicated wooden puzzle.
Itachi, sitting next to Kisame, said nothing.
Kisame just laughed. “Anyone who'd marry any of us would have to be absolutely batty. Sounds like my kind of woman.”
Konan and Pain weren't even looking at them, although Tobi caught the barest hint of distaste on the kunoichi's face, suggesting she was listening.
Tobi pulled out a handful of sticks that were various sizes. “Whoever draws the shortest stick has to get married, and then live with that person for three months! Or are you cowards~?”
Deidara lunged for one of the sticks, plucking it from Tobi's hand. Not wanting to be shown up, the others—minus Konan and Pain—reluctantly took a stick, until only Itachi remained, unmoving from his position. Tobi moved to crouch in front of the Uchiha and dropped the remaining stick in front of him.
Everyone looked at their sticks, and then at Itachi's.
Kisame smirked, “If you find someone willing to marry a mass murderer like you, Itachi, then you should hook me up too.”
Tobi was the only one who saw the line of Itachi’s mouth tighten.
Pain joined their group, his gaze on Itachi's stick. “You must honor this dare, given to you by a comrade, or there will be consequences.” And then he and Konan left.
The rest of the Akatsuki went still in disbelief. None of them had expected anything to actually come of Tobi's absurd dare.
Beneath his mask, Tobi smirked.
Let's see how you handle this, Itachi.
***
Rain thrummed a dull and repetitive tune against the roof of the clinic that was tucked away in the grey labyrinth of Amegakure. It dripped down the windows, which were stained with ever-present rivulets.
The warm lighting inside the clinic made the gloom feel cozy instead of dreary. The walls were painted the soft blue of a clear sky, with fake plants littering every available space.
Sakura sat behind the counter, staring blankly at the fake tree in the corner, her chin resting on her hand. It was a slow day, with only a few people sitting in the waiting room to see her father.
Her mother usually manned the front, but she was out with some girl friends today, leaving her daughter to take care of the front desk instead of helping her father with patients.
Sakura preferred to be in the back, where she could be hands on with the patients, not up here making appointments and handing out medication.
She blew air out of her mouth and leaned back in the chair, her gaze moving to the ceiling. She started tapping her fingers on the counter in rhythm with the rain, until the sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat drew her attention to the waiting room.
An old lady in an orange hat was glaring at her from where she sat.
Sakura had to resist making a face at her, stopping her tapping just as the door to the clinic chimed, announcing an entrance.
Everyone, including Sakura, froze. The entire waiting room fell into a tense silence that made the rain sound all the louder. It was as if everyone had taken a collective breath and were holding it in, afraid to breathe for fear of drawing the attention of the man in the black cloak with red clouds.
Itachi Uchiha was an incongruous sight among the cheery blue walls, fake plants, and colorful decorations. His presence seemed to bring in the rainy gloom with him, overwhelming whatever warmth the clinic possessed, and sapping the vibrancy of its colors.
All Sakura saw were those creepy red eyes, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. They looked like they were spinning.
The door to the examination rooms opened as her father and his current patient stepped out, the pink-haired doctor laughing loudly at something the other man said.
The noise popped the silence like a knife to a balloon, sound returning in a rush; the vibrating hum of the drinking fountain, the woosh of warm air from the ceiling vents, the patient who'd been coughing on and off starting back up again.
Itachi came to the counter, and with his movement, everyone let go of that collective breath.
Sakura exhaled sharply, sucked in another breath, and let that one out more slowly.
Relax, he's just here for his medication.
While she'd handed him said medication on multiple occasions over the past few months, she still wasn't used to his presence. Why such a high-ranked shinobi saw fit to come to this hole in the wall was beyond her.
Wait, it's too early for his refill. He usually came right before they closed, when there wasn't usually anyone else in the waiting room. He also still had a few weeks before his refill was needed.
Sakura's father, Kizashi, glanced at her with concern, but barely missed a beat as he called the next patient into the back.
Plastering on the best customer smile she could manage, Sakura greeted him, looking anywhere but at his eyes. “Uchiha-san, how can I help you today?” The villagers whispered to never look him in the eyes.
“Sakura-san.” He inclined his head, his voice cooly polite. “I need to speak with you, privately.”
Fear wormed its way into her belly. She had to repeatedly tell herself to relax. She was a doctor in training. She would take over this clinic when her father retired. Itachi was just another patient.
A patient who murdered his clan.
“Of course, come this way.” Her voice was decidedly less cool, and very nearly cracked as she rose from her chair and came around the counter, heading towards the door that led to the examination rooms.
Itachi stepped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks, and putting him into her personal space. The only reason why she didn't bump into him was because he'd shifted a fraction to avoid the collision.
“I'd like to have this conversation outside, if you please.”
She idly registered that he smelled like tea, with a hint of smoke. It wasn't unpleasant.
“Sakura-san?”
Embarrassment overcame her fear as she took a hasty step back. “Sure, yes, I can do that.” The words spilled from her mouth in a hurry before she did a one-eighty and headed outside.
Once out in the rain, she realized that, in her haste, she'd forgotten not only her umbrella, but her coat.
Itachi stepped out after her, pulling out an umbrella from his cloak. He opened it and then handed it to her before he began to walk away, clearly expecting her to follow him.
She hesitated for a moment, clutching the umbrella, and then caught up to him.
“We can share, I don't mind.”
Actually, she did mind. However, the doctor in her won out over the fearful girl. Judging by the medication he came in for each month, he shouldn't be out walking in the rain with whatever condition he had.
He paused, and then offered her a ghost of a smile. Since he was the taller of them, he took the umbrella from her and positioned himself so that it was covering them both.
He was wearing purple nail polish. Was he into that sort of thing?
As they walked, she couldn't help but notice that the umbrella still mostly covered her, because Itachi was keeping as much space as possible between them.
She decided it wouldn't be a good idea to push him further about sharing it and kept her mouth shut as they walked a few streets over to a warm little tea shop.
The people in the street gave them a wide berth.
Her fear was fading to apprehensive curiosity when he got them a table, small and round with two rickety, cushioned, chairs. A server came to take their order and left.
Nothing was said between them. She finally met Itachi's gaze, too curious to just stare at the table. He was studying her, his eyes assessing. What he was looking for, she couldn't say, but she felt like she was undergoing some silent test.
She studied him in return, taking the opportunity to really look at him for once. Their previous interactions had been brief; politely detached on his end, fearfully tense on hers.
He was pale, and not in a I don't get enough sun kind of way. Dark circles lingered under his eyes and made them seem all the more sinister. While he didn't look much older than her, the lines on his face made him look tired. Older.
There was a barely perceptible tenseness to his shoulders, not the tension of someone who was afraid or nervous—he probably didn't even know what those felt like—but the tension of someone who was in pain.
It was obvious to her that he was concealing these things from everyone around him. If she'd been anyone else, she wouldn't have picked up on them. Her father had always praised her for her critical eye when it came to diagnosing patients or being able to tell when something was wrong with someone.
While Itachi Uchiha was still rather scary, his enigmatic condition piqued her interest, making him seem a little more normal. He was clearly dealing with some health issue that not even an infamous shinobi could ignore.
Or he wouldn't be taking that medication.
His eyes narrowed, discerning the change in her expression. “You see it,” he murmured, and then those red eyes of his started spinning, snaring Sakura like a butterfly in a net.
She was plunged into a darkness so thick that she couldn't see her own body. She tried to tamp down on her sudden terror, tried to remain logical as cracks appeared under her feet, blood flowing out from them.
Wasn't this… What did they call it? Gen something?
It's not real.
The blood started to seep into her shoes, warm and sticky. A low, guttural growl, sounded in the darkness. A pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the outline of some giant, lupine, beast.
Notrealnotreal.
It felt real though, making her question her sanity. Maybe she'd fallen asleep at the front desk and this was all some bizarre nightmare.
The monster lunged, its jaws snapping for her throat. Sakura reacted instinctively, her hand balling into a fist to meet it. The beast exploded into mist, the entire illusion fading as Sakura found herself in the tea shop again.
Itachi looked, maybe incredulous wasn't the right word, but he did look surprised. The first emotion she'd seen so openly on his face so far.
“You were going to punch it?”
“What were you expecting me to do?” she snapped, her anger at his fear-inducing illusion freezing over when she remembered who she was talking to.
She stiffened and quickly looked away, her hands balling into fists under the table. Mouthing off to a dangerous criminal wasn't the brightest of ideas. He could kill her in the blink of an eye.
When he didn't say or do anything, she dared a glance at him. He was still watching her, except now he seemed satisfied, as if he'd found whatever he'd been looking for in his study of her.
Since she wasn't dead yet, she decided to push forward. “What's this about? Or do you like going around, terrorizing people with that gen… genji—”
“Genjutsu.”
“Genjutsu.”
“I needed to test your resolve.”
The server arrived with their tea and a plate of little cakes.
Sakura was too nervous to take one, still shaken by the sudden encounter with a power that, as a civilian, she couldn't understand.
He took one of the cakes before pushing the plate towards her.
“Just tell me what you want.” She tried not to sound like she was begging. Intriguing medical condition aside, getting wrapped up in Akatsuki business wasn't worth it. “A diagnosis? More treatment? Wouldn't you be better off at the hospital? They have medic-nin.” She'd always been a little jealous of ninja medics. They could heal injuries with a touch, injuries that would otherwise take days, weeks, or months to heal.
But the average person didn't have easy access to them, especially in Ame, who already had a small military compared to other ninja villages. There simply weren't enough medic-nin to go around, and so Ame focused on industrialized innovation, promoting education and the well-being of its citizens.
Her father had opened his clinic on a grant given to him by the council, which ran the day-to-day affairs of the village.
Surely a member of the Akatsuki had access to better healthcare than what her father's clinic had to offer.
“I have a… business proposal for you.” He sounded reluctant.
She waited, because he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly how to bring up this proposal. Deciding that the warm tea would help with her unease, she raised her cup to her lips and took a sip. She was absolutely confused. She'd expected this whole thing to be medical related.
What business would he have with her? She had no say in her fathers clinic, at least not yet.
“I need you to marry me.”
Sakura choked on her tea, spilling it down her shirt. And then she burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the other customers. Some of them blanched when they saw who she was laughing at, and a few hurriedly vacated the premises.
She smacked a hand on the table. “Oh man… I'm totally dreaming and this just got…” She coughed and then devolved into another fit of laughter. “Ridiculous. This is ridiculous.” Her throat was starting to hurt from both the laughter, and the gulp of scalding tea she'd choked on.
Was she more tense than she'd realized and had just cracked under the pressure of those red eyes?
Itachi was simply sitting patiently, sipping his tea, with an unreadable expression on his face.
Sakura stood and brought her hands to her face and smacked her cheeks. It was time to wake up. This is what she got for staying up late reading trashy romance novels about isekaied girls and villains.
It wasn't working.
She pinched her arm, hard enough to leave a bruise.
Still nothing.
The blood drained from her face as her eyes flicked to Itachi’s face, looking anywhere but his eyes. She slid, bonelessly, back into her chair.
It wasn't a dream, and she'd just all but called Itachi Uchiha ridiculous to his face.
He slid the plate of cakes closer, his insistence clear in the motion. She wordlessly picked one up and shoved the whole thing in her mouth, absently noting that it was strawberry with a creamy frosting.
You're going into shock.
“Your father's clinic is about to go underwater.”
“I…” Reality came crashing back down like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on her. Her parents hadn't said anything about that.
He took another sip of his tea, uncaring of the emotional whiplash he was causing her. “I will fund it every week, for three months. The only thing you need to do is pretend to be my wife.”
Her brain started functioning again, latching onto the way he'd framed his words. Three months. A temporary agreement.
Was he not expecting to live past that? Was this some bizarre bucket list thing he was trying to check off?
“Why? Or better yet, why me?”
“You don't need to know the details, it's safer if you don't.” He put the tea cup down. “I don't know anyone else.” An honest, if vague, response. In fact, he didn't seem very thrilled.
Safer? This was going to be dangerous?
“And if I say no?”
“Your father's clinic will be shut down next week when he fails to pay his loan again.”
That clinic meant everything to her parents. It was her father's dream. It was her future. It helped a lot of people.
Her mouth set into a resolved line. “I'll do it, I'll marry you.” While the majority of her wanted to save the clinic, she was worried he'd hurt her family if she turned him down.
He made some sort of hand sign.
Sakura was suddenly back at the front desk of the clinic, sitting in her chair. Itachi was standing at the counter in front of her. The same people were still sitting in the waiting room, including the guy her father had called back just before her and Itachi had left.
The door to the examination rooms opened as her father and his current patient stepped out, the pink-haired doctor laughing loudly at something the other man said.
Sakura stared at them, her mouth opening slightly. Deja vu hit her so hard that her head spun.
“Meet me at this address tomorrow morning,” Itachi said, sliding a piece of paper across the counter.
He almost looked amused before he turned and left.
Sakura looked down at her shirt, where there was no tea staining the white linen.
“You alright, cherry blossom?” Her father called from the door.
“Yeah, I'm just… bored.” She threw on a smile and turned to the computer, feeling like she was in a daze, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened, while the taste of strawberry cake still lingered in her mouth.
***
The next morning, Sakura got up and got ready for the day. She still felt like she was living in a haze, wondering if anything around her was real.
It was disorienting and a little upsetting.
She'd had an entire conversation with Itachi, had even gone somewhere else with him, without actually doing any of it.
It'd all felt so real.
She knew ninja could do things beyond what a civilian could, but to experience it first hand was something else entirely.
While she'd tried convincing herself none of it had been real, she couldn't risk skipping out on him if it had been.
Last night, after her father had gone to bed, Sakura had done some snooping into the clinic finances, a department that was handled solely by her parents.
Itachi hadn't been lying. They were in dire financial straits.
That, at least, was real.
She gave her parents an excuse about running errands and left their apartment that was just down the street from the clinic. It was Saturday, so her father wasn't working unless an emergency came up.
She remembered her pink, cat-eared, umbrella this time, trudging through the near ever-present rain until she reached the address Itachi had provided.
It was the village courthouse, and Itachi was waiting for her on the steps. Since this time she wasn't under genjutsu, or so she hoped, she gave him a little look over. He looked like he had at the fake tea shop, pale and tired.
Why had he looked like that in the genjutsu? He probably could have looked however he wanted. Maybe he'd wanted to see if she'd notice?
She decided it didn't matter and then wondered if his eyes were always red.
“Do you always have to wear that cloak?” she asked as she mounted the steps. That seemed like a safer question to ask.
He opened the door for her. “Yes.”
“I'm not going to have to wear one am I?”
“No.”
“You're not much of a talker are you?”
“You seem less frightened of me today.”
Sakura took the hint and walked into the building. She was still a little frightened, but it was manifesting into the need to fill the void of silence that was his presence.
They were taken to an office, given an official document to sign, and just like that, Sakura was married.
She stared down at the certificate, at her sloppy penmanship next to Itachi's precise and elegant signature. She doubted there was going to be any sort of wedding or celebration.
She'd had dreams of a future husband, of what she'd want in a wedding. This was so far removed from anything that she'd pictured that it didn't feel real.
But it's not real. It's like one of those fake marriages. Temporary.
It was a comforting thought, if only just.
They went outside, opened their umbrellas, and were heading down the steps when a man in an orange spiral mask suddenly appeared next to her, wearing the same cloak as her new husband. He snatched the certificate from her.
Sakura, who was mid-step, started and lost her footing. She lost her grip on her umbrella, and it clattered down a few steps before a gust of wind snagged it and carried it away. She would have fallen face first if Itachi hadn't grabbed her arm. He repositioned himself so that she was now standing behind him.
The masked man giggled. “Oooo, Itachi's all married now? Who's the lucky Mrs. Uchiha?~” He tried leaning around Itachi, who shifted to block him.
“Hmm, cute, but kinda boring looking.”
Sakura bristled. “And you're creepy.” She'd never seen this guy before, but he was wearing the Akatsuki cloak, which meant he was dangerous.
“Oho, she's feisty. Does Itachi like feisty women?”
“Let's go, Sakura-san,” Itachi said, giving her a light push down the stairs to get her going.
The masked man called down after them, “I'll just hold on to this for you, okaaay? Oh, and, Pain is watching!”
When Sakura looked back, the loony sounding Akatsuki guy was gone.
“Who was that?” She didn't need to ask who Pain was, everyone knew who he was. And as far as she was concerned, he watched over the entire village, so what the masked man had said wasn't all that odd.
“An unfortunate comrade.” He sounded frustrated.
They made it to the bottom of the steps without further incident. She wasn't aware of the rain soaking into her hair until Itachi shared his umbrella with her.
She looked up at him, avoiding his eyes, and focusing on his mouth. “What happens now? I'm not actually changing my name am I?”
“That won't be necessary, but you'll need to come live with me if we're to make this convincing.”
“...right.” She hadn't really thought this whole thing through, but she'd do whatever so long as he didn't expect her to be intimate with him. That was where she'd draw the line, even if it meant her father lost his clinic. Surely she could find a different way to save it if things came to that.
What if he threatens your family if you don't?
The potentially dire reality of her situation was finally settling in. Her gaze drifted down to the necklace he was wearing, her eyes settling on the three red rubies that were spaced evenly apart.
She wouldn't be able to stop him from laying a hand on her. What if this was some weird fantasy he wanted to play out, and she had happened to catch his ey—
“This is purely a platonic arrangement,” he said, his soft voice derailing her thoughts, which must have been written all over her face.
Was he trying to sound reassuring? Or did he think she was interested…? Sakura blushed and cleared her throat.
“Good to know.” She didn't know if she could trust him, no matter what he said.
“Bring what belongings you want with you to this address.” He handed her a slip of paper. “Preferably today.”
Sakura pocketed it. “What about my parents?”
“They'll be handled.”
Sakura didn't like the sound of that.
“By you? Are you going to trap them in some genjutsu until this whole thing's over? You're not doing that to my parents, I have a better idea. And besides, ninja use chakra, right? And that causes strain on your body, yes? Wouldn't it be better if you didn't have to do that?”
“It would require little of my chakra, and they wouldn't be harmed.” He looked mildly intrigued. “What would you do instead?”
She was beginning to feel a little bolder and smirked as she parroted his words from yesterday. “You don't need to know the details. Just come with me.” After all, he needed her for something, so he likely wasn't going to kill her, and he hadn't threatened to hurt her parents. Yet.
His eyes narrowed and his grip on the umbrella handle tightened. However, he simply inclined his head in agreement.
She turned her attention to the street, looking for her umbrella, but it was long gone.
“That was a birthday present,” she muttered before shaking her head and taking the lead. She had more important things to worry about than the umbrella her dad had gotten her when she was younger.
Even if it made her a little sad to lose it.
When they reached her family's apartment on the second floor, Sakura stopped in front of the door.
“Okay, don't like stab me or freak out…” She glanced at his stoic expression and hastily added, “Not that you look like the freak out type, but I'm going to have to touch you if we're going to make this convincing.”
She felt like her parents were less likely to react badly if there was a member of the Akatsuki standing in their living room.
Snagging Itachi's arm, she opened the door and pulled him inside, giggling. She started tugging off his cloak and tried not to panic when she saw him stiffen.
Don't kill me, this'll work, I really hope it works.
When she saw her parents sitting on the couch, she froze, plastering on a look of shock. “Oh! I thought you guys were out for the day.”
They were staring at her and Itachi like they were space aliens that'd just beamed themselves into their apartment.
And then their expressions went blank
Sakura spun on Itachi. “I said no genjutsu!”
The utter lack of amusement on his face washed away her earlier boldness and she flinched away from him, feeling embarrassed.
Remember who you're dealing with, Sakura, geeze.
“I'll release it after we leave. Go grab your things.”
“But what are they seeing?” She had no idea what she'd do if he was mentally torturing her parents, but she'd do something, frightening missing-nin or not.
“I'm informing them that you have been chosen for a special medical internship in the Land of Fire that requires you to move there for three months, and that the Akatsuki will be funding it. You will be living in a remote village, where communication is difficult. Visits from family are not allowed.”
She couldn't decide if that was genius or absurd. It was less absurd than what she'd been planning.
Sakura nodded and went to put what she could in a backpack. She grabbed necessities, mostly clothes and toiletries. In her room, her eyes lingered on the stuffed kirin that had slept on her bed since she was a child. On a whim, she grabbed that too, stuffing it into her backpack.
She also grabbed the large medical bag her father used for in-house visits, unable to shake the feeling that she'd need it.
When she got back to the living room, she saw that Itachi hadn't moved. He was looking out the window, watching the rain while her parents were spaced out on the couch.
“Can I say goodbye, in person, at least?”
He hesitated, but shook his head. “That'd be unwise.”
She glanced at her parents with a frown, but didn't argue. The less they were involved, the better.
They left, Itachi taking the lead and her trailing behind. He'd insisted she take his umbrella. She didn't feel like sharing this time around and simply followed him through the streets, instinctively avoiding puddles.
The motion was second nature from living under an almost perpetual raincloud.
She didn't need to ask where they were going. The highrise that housed the Akatsuki could be seen from almost anywhere in the village, an architectural marvel with ominous sculptures standing guard on roof corners.
Itachi didn't take her to the main entrance. They went around to the side and stopped. Confused, Sakura looked around. There was no door, just stone and brick and windows.
Itachi took the umbrella from her and closed it with a wet pop of fabric, then tucked it away into his cloak, exposing her to the rain.
“Don't freak out, okay?” Her earlier words were parroted back at her with the hint of a smile.
Before she could comprehend said smile, much less ask why he didn't want her to freak out, he scooped her up into his arms.
And then they were running up the side of the building and all Sakura saw was the hard ground below, dwindling farther away, where she felt like she'd left her stomach behind.
It was over quickly, Itachi reaching an open window and setting her down.
Sakura's knees wobbled and then she collapsed with a gasp of air as she remembered that she needed to breathe.
Itachi pulled the plane of glass closed with a soft click. The entire wall was floor to ceiling windows, offering an expansive view of the village and the lake that surrounded it. Grey clouds hung low in the sky, rain misting across the horizon.
“Is… that… how you… always get up… here?” Sakura took several deep breaths to try and bring her heartbeat back under control. For an ill man, Itachi didn't look winded at all.
“I usually take the elevator, but I thought it best that we avoid attention for now.”
Sakura was immensely relieved to hear that there was an elevator. Even a thousand stairs would have been better than that.
Or that's what she tried to tell herself, like a normal person would. A small part of her had found the rush of fear to be thrilling.
They'd run up the side of a building, a vertical wall.
She kind of wanted to do it again.
With her heart settling back into place, she glanced around to take stock of her surroundings.
The penthouse was spartan in design, dim and lonely, it barely looked lived in. There were no pictures or decorations, no rugs to bring softness to the dark hardwood floors.
They were in the living room, which had a couch, a coffee table, and a tall floor lamp next to the couch. There was a large flatscreen TV that was nothing like the small square one her parents owned.
The kitchen was in a corner of the open floor space, with jars of spices lining the wall on the counter, the only sign of character in the entire room.
“That door is the bedroom, the bathroom is in there too.” He pointed at the door that was on the wall behind the couch.
“There's only one bathroom? One bedroom?” Sakura tried not to sound mortified.
“I'll be taking the couch.”
She glanced at the couch. It looked small and uncomfortable. Leather, which would be cold, because the penthouse was chilly.
“I'll take the couch,” she said. She didn't want to sleep in someone else's bed.
“You'll take the bed.” His tone booked no arguments.
She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“I have business to attend to. You can use the kitchen and the TV. But whatever you do, don't leave the apartment.” He stared at her expectantly, a very serious look on his face.
She rolled her eyes. “I promise I won't leave.”
He nodded and left via the front door, not bothering to change out of his wet clothes.
Sakura hauled herself to her feet, removed her shoes, and placed them by the front door.
She placed her hands on her hips as she surveyed the penthouse. “If he expects me to stay here for three months, there's going to be some changes. This place looks so depressing,” she muttered, failing to notice the crow perched on one of the large wooden rafters of the high ceiling, watching her with beady eyes.
And so began Sakura's life of marriage.