Chapter Text
Most of the clans had rules about intermarriage and children with bloodline abilities. Of course, not all abilities were genetic, many of the clans had only proclivities that were later cultivated into techniques. The Hyuuga and Uchiha were unusual in that their most powerful weapons depend entirely upon luck of the genetic lottery. As such, they had spent their histories being very, very careful about who married whom and pedigrees were always scrupulously inspected before marriage contracts could be made.
But you can't just intermarry forever. No matter how large your clan is, you have to bring in fresh blood periodically.
Uchiha Itachi was in the very, very unusual position--at least for an Uchiha youngster--of being required to marry outside the clan. His Uchiha heritage had extended far enough back, unbroken, that there was some concern among some of the elders. His illness was not certain to have been the result of too much purity in his blood, but it was certainly genetic and signaled the necessity of the change. Sasuke was facing a similar mandate, as were a handful of other children of various ages--but Itachi would be head of the clan. His bride had to meet the expectations of a hundred other people before his feelings even entered into the picture.
Shinobi from civilian families tended to fall into one of two categories. Either they were mediocre and never progressed much past genin, or they were exceptional. The exceptional ones were a valuable resource, though mostly they were not aware of it.
Clans guarded their members jealously, often preferring to marry members off to civilians before shinobi from rival families, but the rare civilian-born jounin or chuunin was obviously the best of all worlds; strong, trained, and above all not affiliated with another clan.
For the Uchiha, one of these exceptional kunoichi would be their next lady.
Sakura sighed, yawned, and let herself lay her head on her folded arms. Her work was finished, she had pulled two shifts back to back at the hospital, and the sky was the gold of late afternoon. Home and food beckoned, but for just a moment she allowed herself to close her blurred, aching eyes.
Someone cleared their throat, softly.
It took effort for her to lift her head and focus on this person's face, but when she did she felt both her eyebrows lift in surprise.
What was Sasuke's brother doing here?
"Usually a member of my family, my mother or grandmother, would go and speak to your parents," Itachi explained, "but...I thought you would prefer to...to discuss it between ourselves."
She nodded slowly. Although he hadn't actually articulated the question, she had a pretty good idea what he had to be getting at.
"I would like to ask you to marry me," he said, respectfully.
She nodded again, acknowledging his proposal, and bit her lip hard.
This was bizarre and a little painful, and she honestly didn't know how to react.
"Can I ask why?" she asked, her voice decidedly ambivalent.
He gave her half a crooked smile. "I'm sure you're aware of the customs surrounding marriage in the clans," he began. "And I am equally sure that you are aware of the genetic disorder that made me ill as a child, and requires not insignificant medical supervision to keep in remission." She was; it was an important aspect of his medical history, and she constituted a not insignificant part of the medical supervision he required.
"You're saying your family is inbred?" she asked incredulously, then bit her tongue. His mouth pressed into a thin, flat line, but he nodded.
"Essentially. So I am required to marry outside the clan."
"What about Sasuke?"
"When the time comes he, too, will be required to find a wife outside the clan."
"And did you pick me, or your council?"
He colored a little. "It is complicated. Let us say, both.
"You are exceptionally strong and talented, with a knowledge of medicine and genjutsu, and statistically anomalous chakra control. Any or all of those traits would be assets to the clan. And you are intelligent, kind, and my mother already likes you very much."
Sakura blinked. "This is surreal," she proclaimed. "Can we...can we talk about this... maybe tomorrow? I had a really long day and I think I might be hallucinating right now."
"You are not, but your suggestion is reasonable."
Tomorrow he was waiting outside the hospital with a bag of takeout dangling from one wrist, both his hands shoved into his pockets as he reclined against the hospital wall and watched the street with a placid, unchanging expression.
Years of knowing his brother that allowed her to separate placid from surly, for if there was one thing the brothers had in common it was their proclivity towards resting bitch face.
His expression tipped further towards pleasant, even a miniscule smile, as he noticed her emergence.
"I have dinner," he said.
"You certainly know the way to a girl's heart," she told him unironically, and they walked toward her apartment in quiet lockstep.
"So your council decided you should marry me," Sakura summarized, "and you decided you were on board but that I wouldn't like being approached formally by your family."
He nods his agreement and pokes at his carton of rice.
"I know you weren't raised to expect marriage arranged in such a way," he explains, and not for the first time Sakura wonders why his asinine little brother can't have even one zillionth of the amount of consideration he does.
"Well, no." She blushes. "But why me and not some girl from another clan? I'm not like, particularly good pedigree or whatever."
"To put it bluntly, that is the point." He has the grace to look mildly embarrassed. "You are one of the strongest kunoichi this village has ever produced, and you do not owe allegiance to any other major bloodline."
"Because I'm a mutt," she injects, knowing he won't say it but it's the truth.
"Our children would benefit immensely from the diversity of your heritage," he agrees, diplomatically. "As well as your love and care."
Our children, he says casually. She can see that his ears are much redder than usual, so this can't be an easy conversation for him per se, but he's doing better than she is.
"So if I said yes, what would happen," Sakura asked casually. Itachi cleared his throat briefly and took a breath.
"I would go to my parents and inform them of our engagement," he began, "and they would in turn inform the clan. We would enter into contract negotiations, although I doubt the process would be particularly complicated in our case. A date would be chosen with both our inputs, and a wedding arranged. We would marry likely within the year. You are...young enough that we could likely delay conceiving children for several years. In time, however, we would have children."
"How many?" she asked, wary.
He shrugged. "My preference would be to have two, at least. Sasuke has always been tremendously troublesome but I would not have liked to grow up without a sibling. How many would you want?"
"Two sounds like a good number," Sakura agreed, carefully. "Maybe not as far apart as you and Sasuke, though."
"We had a sister," Itachi mentioned offhand. "She had a congenital heart defect and died shortly after her birth. I was three."
"Oh, I...Sasuke never said anything," Sakura told him. "I'm sorry."
"Sasuke likely never thinks about her. I don't even remember when she was born. But that is the reason we are so far apart in age," he explained. His expression grew somber. "Perhaps it also underlines the necessity of my situation."
Sakura had noted, although she'd kept the thought to herself, that two out of three was a pretty high rate for congenital disorders. How closely had his parents been related?
"So married in a year, kids in three-ish," Sakura reiterated. "That's what the clan wants. What about you?"
"The timeline is acceptable to me, but I am amenable to altering it somewhat if you prefer."
"No," she sighed. "I meant, what do you want to be between us? Do you want us to be friends? Do you want us to spend time together and do normal married couple things? Do you want it to be more...more like a business arrangement or something?"
He looked a little startled. "Friends, yes. Time together, affection, ideally. I would hope that in time we would grow to love one another. I would ask for fidelity, although I imagine it goes without saying, and I would offer it as well."
Affection and love. She nods. It would be too easy to fall in love with him and end up miserable if he was dead set on maintaining friendly-neutral relations with his wife; that he wanted love was a relief.
He had brought her food, cared what she thought, respected her career, and wanted to fall in love with her. Honestly, if she put away the part of her heart that was still pining for some kind of meet-cute epic love story, what he was offering sounded pretty good. Stable, warm, the promise of a family that she had wanted for years. He was sweet and very attractive and a certified genius.
"I'm not going to stop working and be a stay at home mother," Sakura said, finally. "Just so you know. And to be perfectly honest I'm not sure I'd want to have kids with someone who is active in ANBU."
Itachi blinked at her. "I'm not saying no," she clarified, "I just...ANBU is dangerous and I want my kids to have a second parent. It would be a commitment for both of us, to be available and, you know, alive."
"That seems reasonable," he said slowly. "Eventually, of course, my father will step down as head of the clan, at which point I would be required to retire from active service in any case. I would not object to doing so earlier. Though I imagine the Hokage will have some strong opinions."
"It doesn't have to be right away. Not until we're... actually trying."
"The precise date can be established later," Itachi assured her. "And I wouldn't ask you to leave your position at the hospital. Although I must ask to be allowed to inform you when you are working yourself too hard."
"I don't work too hard," Sakura objected reflexively. Itachi peered at her as he delicately selected a chunk of radish from his carton and bit into it.
Very deliberately, he chewed, letting the silence stretch between them.
"Fine, you can scold me for overworking if I can scold you," Sakura finally acknowledged. He nodded acceptingly.
"I cannot pretend it will not be gratifying to ensure you are properly cared for," he told her, his tone so light that the words almost escaped her comprehension.
Almost.
"Do you think I don't look after myself?"
"Whenever I see you you are sleep deprived, guzzling coffee, hungry, and neck deep in paperwork or a hospital shift," he pointed out. "Sasuke and Naruto are also in the habit of describing your lackluster self-care to our mother at great length. I am sure you take as much care of yourself as you believe is necessary. Another person might be forgiven for wishing to give you more consideration."
"What, like you have room to talk? Mister I-eat-fifteen-hundred-calories-a-day?"
"We are both in a position to encourage the other towards better habits," Itachi summarized placidly.
"I'm not a good cook."
"I am."
"That's surprising. Sasuke can't."
"Sasuke could have availed himself of our mother’s instruction, had he cared to."
Two days later, as she stumbled out of the hospital after another double shift, into the early morning sun, he met her with a cup of tea and the largest muffin she had ever seen.
“So this taking-care-of-me thing starts now, huh?” she remarked, even before he had greeted her, but he smiled.
“It would behoove me to ensure you live to see our wedding day,” he joked, pressing the tea into her hands. She accepted it gratefully and inhaled the fragrant steam. “I assume you plan to return home and sleep?”
Sakura pulled a face, staring up at the sky. “Yeah,” she agreed, a little bitter. “It almost seems too nice out to waste it sleeping, but I have to meet up with Naruto and Sasuke later, so I definitely need to grab a nap at least.”
“May I walk you home?”
“You seem to be doing it already,” she pointed out, and Itachi grinned at her.
Their walk was peaceful, and by the time they reached her door Sakura felt pleasantly relaxed, albeit exhausted. The gesture of the tea and food was more than appreciated, and Itachi’s comfort and his blatant concern for her wellbeing were immensely satisfying. Her shift had not been particularly difficult or tragic, but her discipline was still draining and after so many hours giving, it was very nice to receive.
“Thank you for breakfast,” she said, warmly, leaning into the door frame.
“Or dinner, as the case may be.” His mouth quirked up in an amused expression.
“Thank you either way. It was really kind of you to think of me.”
“I would be hard pressed not to think of you. But you’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you later?”
“Of course.”
She bit her lips together in a moment of internal debate, but then she decided she didn’t have anything to lose, really. Quickly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He was still blushing as the door swung shut between them.