Hello! I'm trying a new fandom here. Naruto-verse caught my eye, and I decided to give it a go. Sorry in advance if there are any OOC and I know that the 'amnesia idea' is the oldest trick in the book, but please give it a try. Frankly, I prefer itaxsak rather than sasxsak, but I can't see Itachi acting OOC even under the influence of amnesia. I hope you'll like it. Okay, I stop rambling now.

Disclaimer: Not mine

"It's over! Why can't you realize that?"

"But Sasuke-kun, surely you don't mean it. I know you want us to be together again, and we can, if only you'd agree."

"It was your decision to make when you had an affair behind my back. I want nothing to do with you."

"You never minded before. Why do you want to end it now? It's because of her, isn't it?"

"Who the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't think I don't know about her, Sasuke! I have seen how you behave like a lovesick fool around her. She has poisoned your mind, making you act like this. I know how much you care for her. I can make her life difficult, and I will, if you won't come back to me."

"You bitch! Don't you dare bring her into this!"

"She's the bitch, Sasuke. She tried to take you away from me, and I won't let her. Why can't you see that I'm the one for you? I have the papers, and I will take this to court. I'm not giving up, not for anything, not for your stupid infatuation with her. Now, get out of my way! I'll be the one to drive. Give me that!"

"Don't wrestle the steering wheel away! I can't see where I'm going. Don't - "

CRRAAAASSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Koishii, my love. Come back to me. Onegai…"

"I'm sorry, Sakura-san. Due to the circumstances of the accident, his spinal cord attained severe trauma which would cause myelopathy when unchecked, particularly in his lumbar and sacral areas. Luckily, we were able to treat the patient with methylprednisolone within eight hours of the incident, lessening the damage to his nerve cells and reduced inflammation on the site of injury. But even with all the preventions we have employed, the likely result would still be paraplegia, though it is too early for a diagnosis of its permanence.

The blow on his head isn't looking too good either. The hippocampus in his temporal lobe suffered quite a hit. This is a cause for alarm, since damage to that part affects the brain's access to stored memories."

"Arigato, Doctor-san. I know that you did your best. So in that case, he – he might not recall some of his memories?"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the worst case scenario is that he would not remember anything at all."

"..."

"Please sit down, Sakura-san. This kind of anxiety is certainly not beneficial to you, given your sensitive state. I'm sure that the patient will be quite vexed if he knew that you are worrying yourself needlessly. As of the moment he is already stable. A surgery is undeniably necessary later on, in order to stabilize the spine and spare him from future pain and deformity. It might also help regain his ability to walk."

"But what about his companion in the car? Is she well?"

"Hai. The patient had miraculously sustained minimal injuries. As of the moment, she is now in the recovery room, but her family insisted that she continue her treatment in the States."

"Hello, teme. You gave us quite the scare there, but doc said that you were gonna be okay. Me and Hinata-chan are going on our honeymoon, so don't you give Sakura-chan too much trouble when you wake up, ne? You won't be in such a fix if it weren't for that bitch, Karin. Honestly, I don't know why you chose such a baka-onna before. I thought you were smarter than that. Sakura-chan would be much better for you, if only you would let her."

"Aishiteru, my love. Now and forever. No matter what happens."

He didn't know what was more unnerving – the fact that he couldn't see anything or that he could hear voices in his head.

Were his eyes closed, or was he robbed of the sight he depended on? Was he dead or merely slumbering? His senses were in a stupefacient lethargy; and this indisputable reality wreaked havoc upon his psyche.

He was swimming in a deep, vast ocean where every tide, every wave and every current threatened to drown him in its black waters. Over his head was a firmament of bleak darkness, with not a ray of light or visible path to guide his way, to let him escape the nightmare in which he was ensconced in. He could feel that the bottomless hole that was oblivion wanted to swallow him in its never ending depths, and it was succeeding, slowly but surely.

To spare himself from the hysteria building at the back of his mind that can surely reach indefinite heights when unleashed, he veered his thoughts away from his confusion and turned to more pleasant recollections.

And, to his mounting dread, he found that he had none.

Just when he thought that the void had triumphed in imprisoning him, a voice called out from a distance.

"Sasuke? Sasuke-kun? Are you awake?"

Sasuke? Was that his name? He held on to it, the lifeline that can save him from this utter madness. The voice will lead him to a safe harbor, a sanctuary where the darkness feared to step on.

"Oh, please open your eyes!"

The voice was that of a woman, he noted. But how he knew it, he could not understand. His thoughts were all jumbled, and all his mind's eye can see was brief flashes, most of them blurred and very vague.

Briefly, he wondered whether the person who was speaking was real or just another imagined voice in his head. He hoped that it was the former – the soft, melodious tones rather soothed him, and calmed the raging emotions of his inner self.

Somehow, hearing the voice had helped expand his awareness and shake away the cold numbness dominating over him. He finally ascertained several things – the measured purring of some machine, the eerie quietude of the place he was in, and that his inactivity could be blamed to several unknown things immobilizing him.

He could feel a rhythmical pulsation from his chest. That answered one of his questions then: he was still alive, not dead as he had thought he was. Though he didn't know whether to be happy or sad about it. If being alive meant to give such excruciating pain, death might be a more preferable option.

"Oh, Sasuke-kun. I thought for a minute there that your finger twitched. I 've imagined it so many times before that it's a miracle the nurses didn't get fed up with me after summoning them every time I swore a muscle move. But I'm pretty sure that it was a figment of my overactive imagination just now. I don't get enough sleep these days, worrying about you. I know how mad at me you'll be for overtaxing myself. Can you blame me for being concerned about you? Can you even hear me, Sasuke-kun? I feel so silly, talking to myself, but I don't mind. I do wish for you to wake up, though."

He wanted to reassure whoever she was that he can hear her, and that she wasn't crazy for talking to him. He wanted to tell her that it was her voice that saved him, and restored him back to life – that she was the sweet whiff of vivacity resuscitating his deadened lungs.

Most of all, he wanted to see her.

The rest of his motion-deprived body protested at such a thought – surely, opening one's inactive eyes which had slumbered far too long required an effort he could not afford. Yet the overwhelming desire to glimpse the countenance of the person who had rescued him overruled all other complaints of his system.

And for the first time in days – months even – he opened his eyes.

Blank onyx orbs gazed at the ceiling in incomprehension.

He wasn't blind after all. The thought brought him a small amount of comfort, which did nothing to ease his bewildered cogitation. Waking up with not a flash of memory seemed such a curious experience.

But that was certainly not true. As he began to reorient himself with the world, he started to remember several things, insignificant they may be. He knew that the light which seared his eyelids earlier was from the 'sun,' and he was able to see it because the rays of the so-called sun penetrated the 'windows.' The windows were large, rectangular-shaped objects and apparently made of a material called 'glass,' making it transparent. 'Transparency' allowed a person to see through it. Clearly.

It was 'morning,' judging from the high position of the sun in a wide expanse known as sky. Blue. The color of the sky was blue and had dashes of white called clouds.

Daytime prompted him that he was supposed to be somewhere else. Home? Work? Whatever it was, it must be something important to him.

"Sasuke? Sasuke? Oh, you are awake! Thank kami! Doctor-san, come quick! Onegai!"

Belatedly, he recognized her as the speaker he wanted to see. But before he could turn his gaze to where she was, he heard fleeting footsteps and a door slammed close with a loud bang.

Doctor? So, he was in a hospital. What in the world happened to him? The more he thought about it, the more he became aware of an agonizing ache cresting at the back of his head.

Not to mention that there was a distinct loss of sensation at the lower part of his body. The upper part he can understand – restraints had been put on him that hampered any motion; to lessen possible injuries, he supposed. But his legs were of another matter altogether. Maybe the doctors had to amputate them? He could not feel his appendages attached to his body. But if his legs were there or not, he dared not look. Instead, he distracted himself by observing the room he was in.

It was the typical hospital suite – white walls, white tiles, white bedspread – and the feeling of quiescent solemnity that could discomfort anyone.

A table at one corner of the room was empty save for a cheap plastic vase. It held a miserable bunch of the sorriest-looking flowers that could ever have existed; their corollas of petals were withering around the edges and their soggy stems swimming in stagnant water. Morbidly, he wondered if his well-wishers and visitors had already lost hope that he would wake up to see new ones, and hadn't bothered to change them.

He noticed a chair situated at his bedside. Had she sat there? Did she, the person he opened his eyes for, seat on that unpleasant stool with her legs tucked daintily and her hands folded in her lap? Had she keep a late night vigil waiting for him to return to the land of the living?

He didn't know why he expected her to care so much for him. He couldn't even remember her! Yet a part of him believed that she was the key to many things he didn't understand – to the things he could not recall. That the mere sight of her would summon forgotten recollections.

Focusing attention was difficult, but he managed to keep his gaze glued to the room's entryway lest he miss anything important.

After a long wait, the damnable door finally opened.

He could only blink as the most bizarre vision his mind had conjured so far was standing in front of him.

Abundant locks of vivid colored hair drew his eye first. Pink – his mind supplied. Even in his amnesiac state he knew that such an outrageous hair color was unnatural. They inundated her back in cheerful disarray, with no apparent order. Emerald green orbs stared out from a heart-shaped face. She was petite, hardly reaching the shoulder of the man garbed in a white smock gown who followed after her.

She was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen – not that he remembered any.

"Sasuke? O genki desu ka?"

The cadenced, lilting rhythm was familiar. It was her. The voice.

The language in which she had spoken was also identifiable. He recognized the guttural, throaty undertones and the soft vowel stops of the Japanese speech. He sought an appropriate answer from amidst his tangled thoughts while her companion had – thankfully! - removed the obstruction from his mouth so that he may be able to speak. It took him more than a moment to call the right combination of words and he was pleased that they had returned easily.

"Hai, genkidesu," he replied in a hoarse, unused voice. He had to blink again at the brilliance of the woman's smile and the burst of sparkle in her eyes that formed at his response. "Anata wa?"

Her smile widened at his query. "Daijobu desu."

He slid his gaze to her companion, the doctor, who was checking his vitals. But he could still feel her probing stare observing him intently, as if expecting him to return any minute to the bleak darkness he was imprisoned in far too long.

Not anymore. He wouldn't go back to that world if he could help it.

"Ohayo, Sasuke-san," the person who accompanied the woman said. He had an air of calm geniality, obviously an expert on dealing with patients. "I am the doctor in charge of your case. Now, I am going to ask a few questions. Is that okay with you?"

"Hai."

"Do you remember the accident?"

"Nani?" his brow knitted in confusion. "What accident?"

The doctor and the girl exchanged worried looks.

"Do you mean to say that you do not recall what happened to you?"

"Hai."

"How much do you remember?"

The amnesiac patient thought for a moment before saying, "Sukoshi." Very little.

"Let's start with the easiest. Who are you?"

"Watashi no namae wa Sasuke desu," he replied. He had heard her call him that – and was sure that it was the name he had been christened with.

The doctor pointed to the lady sitting at the chair facing him.

"Do you remember her?"

Sasuke stared into the face watching him with a hopeful expression and tried to pry open the chest where his memories where stored under lock and key. She possessed unforgettable features – the kind that made heads turn for a second and third glance.

He shook his head slowly.

"Iie. I've never seen her before."

"The good news is that the patient, as you well know, has recovered from his comatose state and has less than fifteen percent chance of relapse."

"Thank Kami."

"But it appears that he is suffering from amnesia – of a retrograde nature, to be precise."

"In that case, your prognosis is correct, Doctor? He doesn't remember anything at all?"

"Iie. Not exactly. There are two kinds of memories: semantic, which deals with theoretical knowledge independent of time and place; and the episodic – factual knowledge of personal experiences. Based on evaluation, it appears that he lacks the latter – he may remember that the sky is blue, we live on earth, and so on, but events which had happened in his life and close acquaintances like you, are all new and unfamiliar to him."

She was called Sakura.

It suited her. The name brought forth an image of a sturdy, slender tree crowned with pink flowers in the same shade of her hair. Cherry Blossom.

But even though the tree was familiar, the girl called Cherry Blossom was a mystery.

It...disappointed him. Hadn't he formerly believed that the mere glimpse of the speaker in his dreams would bring back his memories? The things he had forgotten?

This time, he knew that recovering his memories would take more than that. Much more.

He could still see the silent anguish in her eyes when he told her that he couldn't remember her. It unhinged him, and made him feel sorrier for himself. He had woken up in an uncomfortable bed armed with nothing but a name, a voice, and now, the sadness of a person he barely knew weighed heavily on his conscience.

It had been two months since his accident, according to the overtly garrulous doctor. He was unconscious since then. And the reason he couldn't feel his lower limbs was because of the damage to his spinal column. The doctor had assured him that the paralysis was temporary and a few treatments and rehabilitation would fix it.

'Sasuke,' as was his name, vaguely heard the softly talking voices outside cease. The door opened gently – almost hesitantly.

"Sasuke?"

It was her again. The morose look in her eyes was still there. He pondered then if she found it very cumbersome to have every thought running through her head showing through her eyes. Sight was rather disquieting if it gave everything away instead of taking everything in.

With a pace that matched the faltering note in her query, she padded to the chair near his bed and sat on it as demurely as he had imagined her to do.

"Mizu?" Not bothering to hear his answer, she picked up a glass of water from the table and brought it to his lips carefully. The flow of liquid down his throat felt really good, and he tried to guzzle of it as was possible. She giggled, and he was relieved to see the emotions in her eyes shift into a less somber perspective.

"Careful, Sasuke-kun," she chided. Setting the glass with a clink, she brushed the back of her thumb across his lips to relieve them of moisture.

It was a very tender touch, and he could tell that she enjoyed it also by the way she prolonged the contact even when it was no longer necessary. Having realized it too, she blushed and dropped her hand. His lips curled into a slow smile, the first he had in months, and made her redden further, dropping her eyes to her lap. It occurred to him then how he found this woman – this Sakura – so interesting.

And interest had evoked his need to know her more.

"I am pleased to inform you that his spine has healed well, Sakura-san. We are now able to remove the tractions and the neck collar. But due to the patient's insistence of checking out immediately, I believe that we could arrange the further treatments to be continued at home, just as soon as we complete the early care – range of motion exercises, help with the bladder and bowel functions, etc."

"Thank you for being so accommodating, Doctor. You know how stubborn Sasuke could be. He always gets his way."

A pair of night dark eyes stared directly back at him – almost defiantly. Crow black hair brushed pass his shoulders; tangled and in need of a trim. Fading scars ran freely along his chiseled jaw, on the defined jut of his forehead, and on his right cheek. He had a sickly pallor; the result of being deprived of natural sunlight, no doubt.

It was a handsome face, but not a face he could remember.

With a sigh, Sasuke released his hold on the hand mirror. It had been given to him by a nurse in the hopes of triggering recall. But no matter how long he stared into it, nothing happened.

When that plan had obviously failed, they turned to showing him photographs taken before the accident. He had been shown pictures of his family (who were apparently all deceased), his friends, and significant events of his life until he grew sick of viewing them over and over again. It seemed more like he was looking at a stranger's picture album rather than his own.

Not that they didn't visit. Some of his 'friends' came to see him, but those courtesy calls had been few and brief. He didn't mind, for his guests had talked about things of no importance and merely get-well messages.

He didn't ask more information about them. They were of no interest to him. But Sakura...

Not once had she left his side for long periods of time. She was the first thing he would see in the morning, and the last sight his eyes would close to in the evening. Once, he woke up late in the night to find her curled asleep on the sofa. Had she done that ever since he was confined here?

Even without asking her, he knew that she had. And he wanted to find out why she would go to such lengths just to help him.

"Good news, Sasuke-kun!" Sakura said with her usual enthusiasm. He must've been so deep in his thoughts not to have noticed her. "I'm sure that you'll be pleased to hear it. Go on, ask me!"

She had a habit of not getting to the point. Not exactly annoying, but it would surely tax a person who did not possess the right amount of patience. Good thing he was used to her. Resisting the urge to sigh, he asked, "What is it then?"

"Anone!" With a grin, she said, "Doctor-san said that you'd be free to go soon."

Thank God he was finally getting out of this hell hole. Though it had taken a lot of convincing the doctor on his part.

"Itsu desu ka?"

She shrugged. "I don't know exactly when. As soon as the early care stuff has started, I suppose. But the doctor had mentioned that your treatment won't stop after checking out of the hospital."

He was relieved to get out of here, but after that, what then? Should he expect her to be there still? Or would they have to part on their own separate ways? Surely her life did not revolve entirely on him – she'd have family and friends to take care of...possibly a lover or a husband. He tried not to dwell on that thought too much, for it had roused rather...unpleasant feelings in him.

But he...he had none. Nobody to take care of him. For who would ever spend all their time tending to someone who could not even walk on his own? No one would ever put up with someone as weak and helpless as him, he thought bitterly. And he was a fool if he thought that a paralyzed, not to mention, amnesiac man could carry on with his former life as if nothing had happened.

Admitting that his current state required someone to attend to his needs was an indignity he could not stomach. Why make himself more pathetic than he already was? Though his memories might be hazy, his character was indelible. He knew that he once prided himself as an independent being, able to stand on his own feet – literally and figuratively. He didn't need anyone's help. Nor their pity.

It was a vulnerability he could not afford.

As if reading his thoughts, she smiled and shook her head.

"Oh, Sasuke-kun. Didn't you know?" She took his free hand and clasped it between hers, making him glance down. His hand looked hideous next to hers, scarred and battered as it was. But she brought it to touch her smooth, porcelain cheek as if it was the dearest thing her eyes had laid upon.

He cursed his eyes for being as readable as hers, but was oddly reassured when she said,

"I'll be here as long as you need me."

He was discharged a week and half later.

Sakura had been true to her words. She stood by his side quietly, patiently waiting while he was administered to several different tests. For now, he focused on regaining his ability to walk, rather than recovering his memories, which was a goal that proved to be impossible at the moment. He was taught how to use a wheelchair, which was a big improvement compared to being bedridden all day.

The doctor had announced that fresh air would do him good, so Sakura had suggested that they retreat to a Machiya he owned in the countryside. Apparently, Sasuke had no problems of the monetary sort.

The townhouse in question was moderately large, a long wooden home with a narrow street frontage and possibly a tsuboniwa at the back. The front of the house had wooden lattices or koshi, cheerfully painted in bengara, a red ochre color. The second story boasted of earthen work and a distinctive type of window called mushikomado, complementing the roof made of grey clay tiles arranged to form parallel lines.

"Welcome Home!" Sakura said cheerfully. Pushing his wheelchair carefully, she stopped at the genkan where a low getabako cupboard was placed for outdoor footwear. She walked to the entryway in her stocking-clad feet and slid the big O-do open.

The kyoshitsubu was done in earthly colors and sparsely furnished. It probably doubled as a living and dining room. A low table and several zabuton cushions sat on the center of the tatami floor. There were two bamboo shoji doors on opposite sides, leading to roka passageways and to more rooms. A landscape painting of majestic snowy mountains hung on the tokonoma, a small raised alcove where there was an ikebana of brightly-colored flowers that contrasted nicely with the somber ambiance. Facing in front of them at the back of the room were open fusuma windows, where a kaiyu-shiki was filled with an overabundance of flowers and plants.

"This belonged to your family for years, Sasuke-kun. It was once a store house, I think, before they converted it to a vacation lodge of sorts. Not all the rooms are done in the washitsu style. There is indoor plumbing, a hired housekeeper and..."

Sasuke idly listened to her enthusiastic chatter, letting her words wash through him in an idyllic stupor. He was focused more on her voice and her gestures – the graceful sweep of an arm, her lithe steps, the way an errant rose-tinted curl caressed the delicate arch of her neck, and how her lively verdant eyes sparkled as she explained thus and so to him.

"This is so nice, ne?" she asked, and he almost forgot to breathe when she turned her compelling gaze at him.

It was wonderful. But maybe what made it that so much pleasant for him was the fact that she was there to make it so.

Thus began the routine. When the roosters announce the crack of dawn, the aroma of a big, hearty breakfast and the sight of Sakura would completely wake him up. After cleaning up, they would stroll in the gardens, always ending up in the sunny pavilion at the center of the pond, where Sakura shared with him funny anecdotes of their childhood. Through her words he could almost see the ramen-loving, loudmouthed blond called Naruto, an adorable little kid with pink hair and a large forehead, and him, the quiet, well-behaved child. With a shy, embarrassed smile she told him how she used to moon over his younger self, following him around like a lovesick puppy, which he had tolerated nicely. Sasuke resisted the urge to ask if she was still 'mooning over' him. He told himself that he wasn't interested. No. Not at all.

But the thought of asking her had occurred to him more than once. He wondered if she would blush and say 'yes'; or blush and say 'no.' Either way, it was a rather embarrassing question, and he had no desire to disrupt the quiet and comfortable companionship that had developed between them.

Though he wouldn't mind at all. He was rather welcome to the idea of her 'mooning over' him. Not that he would tell her that.

He met the housekeeper; a kindly old woman who enjoyed preparing Sakura's all time favorite food: syrup-coated anko dumplings. It was always so amusing to see her gobble up platefuls of those sticky sweets.

The afternoons were spent in rustic, simple leisure when little girls from the nearby village would come visit 'Sakura-onee-chan' to show off a new toy, trinket, or share something that happened to them that day. At the end of their stay, the girls frequently ended up on the floor laughing, while he watched from his chair, equally as entertained as them. Apparently they shared Sakura's addiction to the dumplings, so the housekeeper was frequently present, also having a good time.

Once a week, the doctor from the hospital would come to check his progress, and thankfully report good progress. As for his memory loss, he realized that he didn't care about it too much as long as life was simple as this. Where had he read that amnesia was the brain's coping mechanism for traumatic events? Surely the memories would come back later, when he was ready to face them. Why live in the murky past when there was precious, untroubled present to deal with?

And whenever the cool, crisp evening air wafted in from the windows, and the crickets start to chirp, night would never end without Sakura humming a lovely old lullaby in his ear, sweet as the stars than shined down upon them.

He was a very observant person, and she was not being very discreet.

At first he thought that it was just something she ate. Then she started throwing up. Frequently, especially in the mornings. The smallest things could make her cry, and the gravest, most serious things made her laugh. He thought he had gotten through the worst of it until it came: the cravings. He was fairly sure that any normal person would cringe at the ghastly concoctions that graced her plate these days. He wondered how she could eat those things and find them appetizing.

It wasn't like him to worry. But the notion that she was sick frankly bothered him. It sent a knot of unease coiling around his stomach, and his emotions churned turbulently, battering against the dam imprisoning them. What was wrong with her?

At the back of his mind he knew what her symptoms meant. It was all too obvious – but that notion was more horrible than her being sick. That idea made the knot in his gut coil tighter, and managed to suffocate the beating organ in his rib cage as well. He couldn't take it any longer and gave up resisting the impulse to ask her.

She flushed – the lovely red spreading on her skin caused not by embarrassment, but by sheer, total joy. And with the words of an enlightened one she whispered, "I'm expecting, Sasuke-kun! I'm going to be a mom!"

She rubbed her still-flat stomach fondly, her aura infused with the breathtaking beauty of Madonna-like delight. Her expression was beatific – as if an angel had come and whispered secrets of the universe in her ear, making her soul rejoice from those revelations.

His fists clenched tightly. Someone else had taken her in his arms and kissed those soft, smiling lips – had gazed into her pellucid eyes and selfishly claimed for his own the love shining in them. Someone else had shown her a new world – a world of passion – and shared with her the closest culmination of love that was possible: that of making a child.

The dam inside him crumbled to pieces, until there was nothing left to stop the flow of the hot, scalding emotions from pumping furiously through his veins, intensifying the ache in his chest.

For the first time since he woke, he wished he could remember, wished that he wasn't such an invalid, so that he would be able to get away from her, and the turmoil she caused within him.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, he said, "He must be a very lucky man."

For who could ever be more fortunate than the man who had earned this incredible, wonderful woman's love?

For some unknown reason, his comment made her woefully sad, and she gazed at him with lugubrious eyes – eyes that were telling him something; a message her tongue dared not utter. Something within him responded to it. Yet, for once, he couldn't understand what she wanted to tell him wordlessly.

"Yes, he is," she whispered.

This would be a two-shot. Sorry if the 'medical jargon' was confusing or if the Japanese words are not used correctly. I had to rely on research. My muse had insisted on writing this story, and hadn't stopped jabbering since having this idea. She can be rather stubborn, and greedy for your reviews. I call her 'Pig' because of that. If there is anything not clear, I hope that the next chapter would better explain it.

Pig is rather touchy, so I would really appreciate it if you review! Thank you in advance!

Japanese words:

Koishii-my love

Onegai-please

Arigato-thank you

Aishiteru-I love you

Kami-God

O genki desu ka?-How are you?

Hai, genkidesu-I am fine

Anata wa?-And you?

Daijobu desu-I'm all right

Ohayo-hello, Hai-yes, Nani-what, Iie-no, Mizu-water, Anone-listen

Sukoshi-very little

Watashi no namae wa Sasuke desu-My name is Sasuke

Itsu desu ka- When?

Machiya-townhouse, Tsuboniwa- courtyard gardens, Genkan-entryway, Getabako-shoe cupboard at a genkan

O-do-big door, Kyoshitsubu-'living space', Washitsu-Japanese-styled room