I need some suggestion of angsty sakura haruno fic please. I always like fics just you know a bit hurt and comfort. If there is like where she runs away from konoha but not to akatsuki or any other evil thing cuz you know i think she is better than that. Or depression after team 7 left her or after the war where everyone is busy. Please give me some recommendation.
The lovely @princessazula // @Maedi_Visna commissioned me a revamp of an old itasaku fanart I did back in 2008 and I was more than happy to comply. I love this 2 fools to begin with so it wasn’t a hardship. In my headcanon, when Sakura grows up into adulthood, she favours a more japanese inspired but still ninja compliant style with, and most importantly, red cat eye, she would have it on her anbu mask too. Sakura with red eyeliner, always.
I again thank @princessazula for commissioning me and trusting me on this piece, I really enjoyed painting it .
My commissions are still open if anyone is interested, you can find all the info on my website patriciaviarts . com or right here on my tumblr
Finally done! Yet again revisiting old art . Yes, I still loving drawing Sakura from Naruto, I can’t help it… I am really happy with the bg as I normally only center on the character, I tried working a little bit more on the whole atmosphere, I hope it shows :B. I still ship it too.
Work in progress! Revisiting an old favourite, #itasaku, tomorrow i will be starting on the bg and atmosphere, wish me luck . Funnily enough, there is a #narutaugust challenge going on where the second promp bis Sakura deserved better. Could not be more accurate #narutofanart #sakuraharuno #itachi #digitalillustration #digitalart #artistsoninstagram #fanart #japaninspired #oldartvsnewart https://www.instagram.com/p/CDe3vY_IYB8/?igshid=r0io6b70plpy
Haven’t posted in ages here but here I bring the piece I started for valentine’s day this year : ) yes, it is Itachi and Sakura, yes, I still love them.
Prompt: You break it, you bought it (auction, ransom, pursuit) Fandom:Naruto Pairing:Itachi/Sakura Rating:T Words:1494 Notes:I blame this entire drabble on @kendochick-moor and their Take My Picture story. I’ve been wholly absorbed by it over the past two days, and the longing that Itachi shows in there is so beautiful that I just wanted to help him. Then I realized this was supposed to be angst and I wasn’t going to make it any better. I’m sorry? Also, the setting is largely a stretch to reach the prompt again but I wanted to write this lol
———-
The smell of expensive perfume and overpriced wine flavor the air when Itachi steps into the room. Dozens of Konoha’s finest fill the space, offering fake laughs and false smiles. He blows a breath through his lips. I can do this, I don’t have a choice, he whispers, snagging a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. He doesn’t plan to drink it, but it gives him a clever excuse to avoid conversations that he doesn’t want to have. Family members dot the space, milling about before the art auction is set to begin.
Uncle Madara is speaking to someone that Itachi doesn’t recognize, but he’s pretty sure it’s a buyer from Kumo. Events like this are exclusive, but he wasn’t the one to vet the patrons. He adjusts the tuxedo that he’d been forced to wear. Mikoto had been adamant that Itachi at least put in an appearance. Though his mother doesn’t say it, she’s worried that he’ll be alone forever unless she orchestrates the perfect match. Being the eldest son carries responsibilities that Itachi never wanted.
“Are you here for pleasure, or duty,” a familiar voice asks by Itachi’s shoulder. He turns, unsurprised, to find Uncle Izuna running an appraising eye over him.
Itachi shrugs. “I’m here because mother said I had to be.,” he answers as honestly as he dares.
Izuna laughs, a deep, rich sound that pulls a flush onto Itachi’s cheeks. He’s not sure if he’s being made fun of or not, with Izuna it’s hard to tell. The man claps him on the back and nods. “Mikoto rarely takes no for an answer, does she?” When Itachi shakes his head, Izuno looks thoughtful. “I think you might be the only person to defy her and get away with it.”
The words carry a weight that Itachi is familiar with, but it stings all the same. Nearly all of the Uchiha have followed Uncle Madara into one branch or another of the judicial system. You can’t throw a stone in the room without hitting half a dozen lawyers, judges, and policy makers. It had been expected that Itachi would follow in his family’s footsteps. But, he’d wanted something different..
The badge on Itachi’s side feels like a brand, burning his hip. He hasn’t made detective yet, mostly because he refuses to use his family name for influence. It’s just one of the ways that he’s failed them. He’s twenty-nine and unmarried, with no kids to carry on the family name and no prospects. It isn’t Itachi’s fault that work keeps him too busy to breathe most days or that his standards are impossibly high. His mother has tried to set him up dozens of times, but it always falls through for one reason or another.
“I’m just here to put in an appearance,” Itachi hedges, lifting his drink to his lips. The champagne is too sweet for his tastes, but it gives him something to do with his hands.
Before Izuna can respond, he’s swept up in a conversation with a couple that Itachi doesn’t recognize. He uses the distraction to get away from the probing questions that he doesn’t want to deal with. If he can find his mother and satisfy the requirement of coming, he can leave. He needs to go through the notes on the robbery case down on—
Someone bumps Itachi’s side, startling him from his thoughts. “Excuse me, I was—”
The words die in Itachi’s suddenly dry throat. He finds himself staring into the most vivid emerald eyes he’s ever seen. They’re no less striking for their familiarity, though he hadn’t expected to see her here. “Haruno-sensei,” he breathes, chest tight. He gives himself a mental shake. “I’m terribly sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Sakura’s laugh is light and airy as she waves away the apology. “No harm done,” she smiles and toys with one of her earrings. “I didn’t expect to find a familiar face here. These things are kind-of overwhelmingly snobbish aren’t they?”
Chuckling, Itachi nods. He’d never say those words in his family’s hearing, but the stuffy atmosphere at these events is exhausting. Itachi wears a mask when he comes here, pretending to be something he’s not. Sakura is a breath of fresh air in the midst of that. “Can I get you a drink,” he offers.
“I shouldn’t, I’m on call,” Sakura responds, tucking a pink curl behind one ear.
Itachi is transfixed by the movement of Sakura’s fingers, momentarily forgetting to listen to the words. He gives himself a mental shake then nods. “Of course. How have you been?”
Six months ago, Itachi had been called to the hospital to take statements after a mugging. Sakura had been the doctor on call that night. She’d had evidence and assumptions ready, and she was angry at the increase in violence she’d seen lately. Their first meeting had been a coincidence, the second and third were orchestrated. Or rather, Itachi looked for any excuse to stop by the hospital in uniform to catch a glimpse of the pink-haired medic when cases call for it.
Running his tongue across his lips, Itachi nods as Sakura tells him that the hospital has been busy. She hasn’t had much down time; in fact, this is the fist time that Sakura’s been out in weeks. In weeks, the words repeat like a gong in the back of his mind. Two weeks ago, there was a moment when Itachi thought that she was on the verge of saying something. He’d felt the tension between them, the tipping point underfoot, but he’d been too afraid to move and she’d been called away. He feels the same stress now.
Sakura is close enough that Itachi can smell the floral perfume she wore. The general buzz of the room makes it difficult to hear, but he has no trouble picking up her words. Something warm and unfamiliar swells in Itachi’s chest. He exhales. “Would you—”
“Itachi!” His confidence shatters at the call, crumbling to his feet like dust.
Itachi turns to find his younger brother cutting through the crowd. Sasuke wears his tuxedo better than Itachi, filling it out with wider shoulders and the confidence that always came so easy to him. He stops, glancing between Sakura and Itachi with a smile. “I see you’ve met Sakura.”
When Sasuke’s hand comes to rest low on Sakura’s back, Itachi’s heart stops. He feels like he’s been sucker punched, the air leaves his lungs with the same urgency. Sasuke brushes his lips against the same curve of cheek that Itachi had dreamed of touching. He swallows the pain and longing at once, pasting a smile on his face. If his family taught him anything, it’s the ability to fake happiness.
Sakura’s lips pull into a frown, and her eyes are far too knowing. Itachi takes a long gulp of his champagne to keep the emotion from being obvious. He’s had a lot of practice at that, too. The question hangs in the air when he’s finished, so Itachi tips his head. “I’ve met her, yes. She helped with a case a few weeks ago.”
Sasuke tips his head to the side, studying Sakura. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t know,” Sakura breathes, voice small enough to get lost in the noise. Itachi manages to hear it over the roaring in his ears. “I didn’t know he was your brother.”
Sasuke says something else, but Itachi doesn’t catch it. He can’t escape the feeling that the ground just opened under him. Sakura’s eyes hold something like pity, and Itachi can’t bear that. He shakes his head. “It was so nice to meet you,” he offers, bowing to the pair. Manners are automatic, even with the pain blooming inside of him. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to get back to work.”
“You just got here,” Sasuke argues, but Itachi shakes his head. He should stay long enough to see which woman his mother has planned to match him with, but he can’t bring himself to face it. The sudden realization that he’s been nursing feelings for months leaves him breathless, especially to have them snatched away.
Itachi nods and turns away. He places his half full glass on the tray of a passing waiter and starts for the door. He almost makes it when an arm catches his. For half a heartbeat, he hopes to turn and find Sakura. But, it isn’t her.
Mikoto smiles and fuses over Itachi’s jacket, toying with the lapel. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you. There’s a girl here I want you to meet. Her family owns—”
The words are familiar, and Itachi lets them wash over him without speaking. He glances across the room only once and catches a flash of pink hair in the sea of black. Then, he closes the door on that forever and follows his mother back into the room. He has a duty to do.
The morning was quiet, but not still. Outside, rush hour traffic rolled by while businessmen and women hurried to work as they always did, coffee cups and briefcases in hand. It was like every morning before. And every morning that would forever come.
Nothing had changed.
And honestly, Sakura hadn’t expected it to. Hashirama had been one of a million. And no one would notice his absence. The world would continue to turn.
Sakura stayed in bed most of the morning. She listened to the traffic roll by outside and watched as the shadows cast by the sun grew longer and then shorter. She kept reminding herself her job was done. She had completed her task. The question was, what did she do now?
There were still some loose ends, of course. The shirt she had stolen from Madara’s cleaners, the one she had worn while taking Hashirama still needed to be planted. As did the gun Tenten had provided her. The exact replica of Madara’s. But those would be taken care of today.
Laying on her back, Sakura stared at the ceiling. She ran her plan over and over in her head, but as much as she attempted to distract herself, her thoughts kept returning to Tsunade.
Sakura hadn’t heard from her in over a year. Or was it two now? She had tried time and time again to call her adopted mother, but there was no answer. There never was an answer. Still, Sakura’s fingers itched for the phone.
Her resistance lasted all of two minutes before she picked her cell off the nightstand. Rolling onto her back, Sakura punched in those familiar digits before she pressed her phone to her ear. It rang. And rang and rang until it went to voicemail.
Irritation flared in her chest. Sakura tossed her phone onto the other side of the mattress before she turned her back on it.
A few seconds later, her ringtone went off.
Jerking, Sakura scrambled for the device. She hated herself for that hope that bloomed in her chest for it was sharply squashed down when she saw it was only Ino. Deep, simmering anger filled space between Sakura’s ribcage. But it wasn’t at her blonde friend. It was at herself. At Tsunade.
Sakura took a deep breath before answering. “Yeah?”
“I know you’re probably busy, but I wanted to give you an update,” Ino said.
Sakura looked around her still, still condo and resisted the sudden urge to smile ironically. If only Ino knew how not busy she was this morning.
“Yeah, what do you have for me?”
“First thing, I don’t know what you said to Killer Bee, but it worked. His shipments to Akatsuki have stopped,” Ino told her. “He’s gone into hiding.”
Surprised, Sakura gave pause before a pleased smile crossed her face. Perhaps this morning was better than she had first thought. “Good. How is Akatsuki handling it?”
“They’re scrambling. Their men are working overtime to dig into the Underground and see what they can conjure up.”
“And you have eyes on them?”
“Of course,” Ino said, as if she was doing anything but.
Sakura was quiet for a long moment as a new plan began to form in her mind. She had planned on attacking Akatsuki head on, but it was quickly becoming more and more apparent that she didn’t have the time or the resources to do so, even with their weakened defenses. Perhaps she needed to do what she did best. Corner and kill her prey. One at a time.
“I’m changing our game plan,” Sakura said slowly, talking as each part of the plan fell into place in her mind. “I want you to keep your sights on all the major members. Deidara, Hidan, Kakuzu, all of them. Work with Tenten if you have to. I want them all under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”
“What are you looking for?” Ino asked.
“The perfect opportunity.”
On the other end of the line, Ino gave a small pause. Then she said in a hushed tone, “You’re going to take them out.”
“It has to be done in sync. Otherwise, the other members will be on alert.”
A brief pause followed. Only the faint sound of clanking in the background, perhaps Shikamaru making breakfast, told Sakura that they hadn’t been disconnected. When Ino spoke again, her voice was still soft but firm and full of strength.
“I’ll keep you updated on their locations.”
Sakura knew Ino wouldn’t fail her.
“Good,” Sakura said. “Meet with Tenten this morning. There’s something else I need you to do for me tonight. I’ll come over later this afternoon.”
And before Ino could reply, a loud knock sounded against the front door of Sakura’s condo. It was more of a banging. Like someone was trying to knock the door down rather than alert her to their presence.
Sakura bolted upright and sprung out of bed just as Tobirama threw the door open. He looked like devil himself with wild hair and even wilder eyes. His expression was one of pure murderous rage. But it wasn’t directed at her.
Without a doubt, Sakura knew that he knew Hashirama was dead.
“I’ll call you back,” Sakura told Ino. Without waiting for a reply, she hung up and tossed her phone onto the bed before she gave Tobirama her full attention. “What happened?”
It took Tobirama a long time to find his words. He raked his hands through his hair, hate and fury rolling off him in waves so thick it was nearly suffocating. “The bastard fucking did it!”
“What’re you talking about?” she asked.
“Hashirama. Hashirama is dead, Sakura. Murdered! By fucking Madara,” he spat out.
Sakura blinked in true, honest confusion. Why did he think that? She hadn’t even fully put her plan into motion yet. “How do you know?”
“I was supposed to meet with Hashirama last night, but my men were ambushed by Izuna,” he told her. “I never made our meeting.”
Well that was a lucky coincidence. And all circumstantial, but Sakura didn’t utter a word. If it helped convince Tobirama that Izuna and Madara were responsible, then she would let him believe that.
“I’ll fucking kill the bastards,” Tobirama continued, his voice tight with fury. “I’ll rip them limb by limb.”
He spun on his heels, intending to make for the door, but Sakura quickly stopped him with a firm grasp on his jacket, pulling him back. “Tobirama, wait. Madara and Izuna planned this. They’ll expect you to come for revenge. We have to do this carefully.”
“I want them dead now!” he snapped, turning his deadly gaze on her.
Sakura held his gaze unflinchingly. “I know. And I promise you we will make them pay. But if you go running in there right now, you’ll only meet the same fate as Hashirama.”
Tobirama held her gaze as he ground his teeth together, the need for revenge burning bright in his normally impassive eyes and hardened his face until he looked like he was made of stone. Then it softened, that hate fading until only grief and anguish remained. It seemed to consume him until that was all Sakura could see.
“I should have been there.”
Sakura shook her head. “Then Madara would have killed you too.”
A muscle in Tobirama’s jaw ticked. As if he was using all of his self-control to keep his more vulnerable emotions in check. She had never seen him so broken before. It nearly made her regret what she had done.
“My brother is dead,” Tobirama whispered.
She gave him a sympathetic look, her voice gentle. “Yeah, he is.”
He was quiet for a long moment before he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “What do I do now?”
“You finish what Hashirama started,” Sakura told him, carefully planting the seeds of her plan. “You take out Akatsuki and then make Madara pay.”
Tobirama didn’t speak, but there was no denying the killing intent that still rolled off him. She didn’t wait for an answer. She simply smoothed her hands down the front of his jacket until she felt his phone.
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Sakura said as she pulled the device from his pocket and pinned a location on his maps. “Go to this address. Wait for her to come to you.”
Tobirama left after that.
Sakura leaned against the doorway and watched him head down the hall, his footsteps soft and uneven as if he was wandering through a thick fog. She knew he was hurting beyond hurt right now. That his grief would follow him like a dark shadow in the months and possibly even years to come, but it paled in comparison to what he would feel if he knew the truth about Hashirama. That the brother Tobirama had loved so much was simply using him. Like everyone else in his life use him. Like she was using him.
Sakura watched Tobirama until he was out of sight before she made her way back inside. She sent a text off to Tenten, telling her that once she was done with Ino that she would meet Tobirama, the brother of the bastard that had been a pain in her ass for the last several years. They were to work together. Sakura didn’t care if they didn’t like each other, but they would need to cooperate, something Sakura didn’t think would be an actual problem. For Tobirama was a little rough around the edges, but he was nothing like his brother.
Sakura knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help the satisfaction that pooled in her stomach. For she was watching all the pieces of her master plan slowly fit into place right before her eyes. And tonight, she would be taking a large step towards completing the picture.
xx
It was a beautiful night in New York City. There wasn’t a cloud in sight allowing for the stars to dance in awe without hindrance. Sakura sat beside the window in a top-floor bar, admiring the view and all it had to offer. Below her, the water off the river sparkled from the city lights. A stunning sight, even to the well-traveled.
She continued to sit even after the moon had risen over the horizon, it’s brilliant light chasing the nearby stars away. The waiter came up to her three times and each time she waved him away, until at last her unexpected, expected guest finally arrived.
“It always amazes me how quiet this city can be,” Sakura murmured.
Across from her, Madara lowered himself into the vacant chair. He too seemed to study the breathtaking view out the window before he finally agreed, “The calm before the storm.”
“And a storm it will be,” she promised.
Madara held her gaze, even as the waiter came by and introduced himself. He collected their drink orders quickly before he made himself scarce once more. Throughout the short conversation, Madara watched her. There was a smile on his face, just a faint little tilt of his lips that seemed more dangerous than pleasant.
“This need not end in violence,” Madara said once they were alone again.
Sakura cocked a brow “No?”
“We are both aware of the events of last night,” he told her, adjusting the cuffs of his suit with an air of grace. “Let us not pretend that we do not know of Hashirama’s untimely death.”
She didn’t share his smile. “You mean murder.”
“Yes,” Madara nodded, his tone factual rather than regretful as he returned his gaze to hers. “But I believe that we both know who is responsible for that.”
She didn’t know if he was suspicious of her, but she made no attempt to clarify. She simply held his stare. “According to Tobirama, you are.”
“Tobirama has always allowed his emotions to cloud his judgement.”
“And why shouldn’t he? All evidence points to you.”
Her tone of utmost certainty caused Madara to frown. “And what evidence might that be?” he asked, his tone deceptively indifferent.
Sakura sipped her water slowly, making a point of dragging the tension out before she finally said. “The evidence that shows you had Izuna intercept Tobirama last night so you could meet with Hashirama alone. To shoot and kill him.”
Madara sat quietly for a moment before another smile spread across his mouth. “I see what you are trying to do, but there is no such evidence.”
“Are you so certain?” she asked quietly. She swept her hair over her shoulder before she leaned back in her chair, feeling somewhat like a queen upon her throne. “Between the two of us, only one is a poker player and it isn’t me. Call my bluff.”
The waiter chose that moment to return with their drinks. He set them down on the table before he gave them a few more minutes to glance over the menu. Madara held her gaze until the young server was gone once more.
Then he rolled his shoulders in a small, graceful shrug before he reached for his aged whiskey. “Even if that were true, that is all circumstantial.”
“Perhaps,” Sakura agreed airily. She sipped her lemon drop and licked the sugar from her bottom lip as she peered at her glass, as if deciding where to drink from next. “But the police will be looking into the anonymous report they received very early this morning of a man with blood stains on his shirt in the Anderson’s building in Lower Manhattan on the fourth floor.”
Madara’s exact apartment building. The one Sakura had been in with Itachi only a few short weeks ago.
Sakura raised her gaze when Madara remained silent. She knew he was finally starting to realize how serious she was when his fingers tightened around his glass until his knuckles were almost white. She was a little surprised the glass didn’t crack under his tight grip. She bit back her smile.
“Unless, of course, you have an alibi…” Sakura offered.
Even as she said the words, she knew he didn’t. Because Madara had been deep in the Underground, buying loyalties and delivering illegal arms. If he gave the police any solid information, he would just be trading murder charges for acts of terrorism.
“That evidence is not enough to get a conviction,” Madara finally said, his words tight.
“No, but it is to make an arrest. And really that’s all the CIA needs,” she said unable to hide her smile. Then her expression turned thoughtful. “Although, when the police really begin to dig, I’m sure they’ll find more. Like the money you stole out of Hashirama’s accounts.”
“That money was paid to me. To watch you,” he told her, as if he was dropping some previously unknown information on her.
Sakura feigned a look of confusion, her voice pitching a little higher. A little more girly. “That’s strange. According to my super smart computer friend, the transfer was done over like a really secure network, that all stems back to your IP address.” Then she pouted. “Or something. All that technical speak just goes right over my head.”
Madara didn’t blink at her innocent routine. “That is not possible.”
Was it true? No. But was it possible to make it appear that way? According to Shikamaru and his computer genius, yes.
At that exact moment, Sakura’s phone pinged. Even without looking, she knew it was a text from Ino informing her that she had completed her job. The gun Sakura had used and the shirt she had stolen and worn at the crime scene had been planted in the trunk of Madara’s car. Under the carpet where the spare tire was. A place Madara wouldn’t think to look. A place for the police to find.
Sakura held Madara’s stare with a dark smile. “If I were you, I would get out while I still could. I’m sure there’s a judge somewhere right now signing a search warrant with your name.”
Had they been alone, Sakura was sure Madara would have tied her up and taken his time torturing her before killing her. But they weren’t. They were in an upscale restaurant with nearly every table full and a wait at the door.
So instead, he stood, only to pause beside her to lean down and whisper in her ear. “This will not be the last time we meet,” he warned.
His voice was full of animosity and a promise of dark things to come, but Sakura only turned her head, their mouths close enough she could feel his breath on her lips. Her eyes turned hooded, as if she were sharing some secret with her lover, before she murmured, “Do your worst. I have certainly done mine.”
Madara lingered a moment longer, his eyes narrowing into slits that would instill cold fear into a lesser man before he straightened and made his exit. Undoubtedly trying to flee the country before the police caught up with him.
In the back of her mind, Sakura knew she had just cheated Itachi out of the very goal he had been striving to achieve for years, but she didn’t allow herself to feel guilty about it just yet. Madara was a man with a lot of power and a lot of money. He would surface again.
For now though, Sakura had just made it easier to take down Akatsuki. And Izuna. The last of which wanted her dead more than Madara. Even given the conversation she’d just had with the latter.
Even upon finding herself suddenly alone, Sakura ordered herself dinner. She ate slowly, savoring the well-seasoned flavors. She paid for her meal and Madara’s unfinished drink before she drove home, double checking and then checking again that she wasn’t followed. She wouldn’t put it past Madara to have put a kill-on-sight order out on her.
Her apartment was quiet as she sat behind her laptop, counting the numbers and going over her stores. Even given everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours, she felt light. Perhaps even a little high on adrenaline.
She thought of Itachi as she slowly spun her phone over in her hands. She missed him. Both his presence and the way he made her feel. She wanted to feel his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers, his body against her own. Hear her name tumble from his lips.
Unlocking her phone, Sakura punched in the first three numbers of his cell when a knock sounded on her door. She stilled, wondering what the chances were that Itachi was here right when she was wanting him to be.
As it turned out, it was incredibly low when she found not Itachi on the other side of the door, but Kakashi. He didn’t wait for her to let him in. He simply pushed past her.
Sakura didn’t have to ask to sense his agitation. She closed and locked the door behind him before she followed him to the living room where he was pacing. He stopped when she came into the room.
“What did you do?” Kakashi demanded.
Sakura shook her head faintly, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”
“Hashirama is dead.”
Word was bound to spread. She was just a little surprised it was happening this quickly.
“I heard,” she acknowledged, letting the slightest bit of sadness creep into her voice. “Tobirama’s pretty upset, but at least it makes it easier to move against Akatsuki without Hashirama breathing down my neck.”
To her surprise, Kakashi continued to stare her down. “Where were you last night?”
Understanding dawned on her then and she shot him a look of mild confusion. “You think I killed him?” When Kakashi remained silent, Sakura let out a slight scoff. “That’s ridiculous. I didn’t do it-.”
“Don’t you fucking lie to me, Sakura,” Kakashi snapped so sharply, it struck her to her core.
She had never once seen Kakashi look at her the way he was looking at her now. He was furious, spitting mad, in a way she hadn’t seen before. Smartly, she chose to keep her mouth shut.
“I was watching Hashirama last night and you sent me to Newark,” Kakashi continued. “Then you conveniently forgot your phone at home. I’m not an idiot, Sakura. I know it was you.”
Unable to take the intensity of his stare, she looked away. It was all the admission he needed.
“Why did you do it?”
Sakura didn’t immediately answer. It was something she had been wanting to tell Kakashi for a while, but she just couldn’t find it in her. Still, he was a smart man. Far smarter than she was.
“I think you know why,” she finally murmured.
Kakashi’s temper seemed to cool to a simmer at that. The dots connecting behind his eyes. “Tsunade. She ordered you to.” Even given his statement, his eyes narrowed, his anger warming again. “You didn’t have to kill him. You had other options.”
His frustration stirred her own. Defensive, Sakura bit out a laugh. “A little hypocritical, don’t you think? You were a Marine sniper, trained for the sole purpose of killing the people your government ordered you to. How was what I did any different than you?”
“Because I was serving my country!”
“And I was serving my family.”
Kakashi shook his head, the next words out of his mouth as cold as the Russian winters Sakura remembered as a child, “That woman may have taken you in from the orphanage, but she is not your family.”
That topic had always been a sore spot, even more so given the lack of contact from Tsunade in recent years. Automatically, Sakura bristled. “What was I supposed to do?”
“You should have called me! You should have let me have your back like I always do!”
His words left her at a bit of a loss, but he didn’t give her time to find her voice. He simply swept past her, only the front door slamming closed behind him to fill the sudden quiet. She could still feel the sharp burn of his fierce outrage and disappointment even after he was gone. It lingered in the air like the bite of a stubbed-out cigarette, burning her nose and her eyes. Tears threatened to clog her throat, but she swallowed those back too as she wiped the sudden wetness off her face.
She had completed her mission. And yet she felt as though she had failed the person most important to her.
The instant Sakura shifted her car into park, her phone rang. Her brow ached curiously when Ino’s name flashed across the dashboard. She hadn’t been expecting her call, but Sakura answered nonetheless, using the control on her steering wheel.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, I know you’re about to head into a meeting but I saw something today that I know you’d wanna hear about.”
“And what might that be?”
“A large shipment that was supposed to go to the Akatsuki warehouse Tenten’s men are handling was diverted,” Ino said.
Immediately Sakura’s suspicions and interest pique. “Diverted and went where?”
“Newark.”
“Let me guess,” Sakura said flatly, the wheels in her head already turning. “To the warehouse where Tobirama’s men were ambushed.”
On the other end of the line, Ino hummed. “The very one.”
“Hashirama said that he had dealt with that a while ago,” Sakura said, her voice nearly a growl. But her annoyance wasn’t directed at Ino. Rather at Hashirama himself.
“Apparently not.”
Sakura took a moment to take a deep breath and calm down before she returned her concerns to the matter at hand. “Has Tenten said anything about a lack of shipments?”
“Not to me, she hasn’t,” Ino told her. “And to be honest, I’m not particularly sure why Madara chose that warehouse. It’s on the border of town.”
“Perhaps to have them all in one place?”
“Perhaps, but it makes me wonder if he discovered you took over that second warehouse,” Ino said. Then she added, “But I found something else that might help you. The shipments were sent by a man named Killer Bee.”
A frown crossed Sakura’s lips when the name sparked no memory. “And who is that?”
“He’s a major arms dealer for Akatsuki from what I’ve gathered. Perhaps their biggest.”
“And?”
“And,” Ino said, like what she said next held more worth than all the gold in the world. And they did. “He was very good friend of someone you knew.”
They ended the call soon after that. Sakura’s mind raced with the information Ino had given her. Sakura wouldn’t have much time, but if she could pull her strings exactly right, she might be able to screw Madara over in a way that would hurt him indefinitely. She would just have to move fast enough.
But before that, Sakura needed to talk to Tenten first.
Cutting the engine to her car, Sakura headed down the city block. She made her way towards a club with a line out the door and nearly halfway down the street. Sakura found Tenten in her office. Up the stairs guarded by two tough-looking men. They let her through with a single nod.
“Tsunade,” the brunette greeted with a pleasant smile.
Lee sat in the corner, polishing a Taurus handgun that looked like it had seen some action as of late, but he looked up upon her entrance and greeted her with a bright smile. Sakura returned it with a considerate nod before she lowered herself down in the chair across from the other woman.
“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice,” Tenten said.
“Of course. What can I do for you?”
The brunette got right down to business. “There’s been some shifts in the Underground. It looks like Akatsuki has been stretching out their reach, finding allies in every corner they can. They’re not backing down.”
“No,” Sakura agreed. “And I didn’t expect them too. Akatsuki knows that I’ll be challenging them. And if they’re any smart, which they’ve proven time over that they are, they know it’ll take nothing short of an army to shut me down.”
“Which is becoming quite the pain in the ass,” Tenten told her, a small bite to her tone.
Sakura simply smiled as Tenten grabbed the pack of cigarettes on her desk and withdrew one. She bit the end between her teeth as she flicked her lighter to life, holding the flame to the end of her smoke until it smoldered red.
Sakura allowed Tenten a moment to get her nicotine fix before she asked evenly. “Tell me, how is everything going at the warehouse?”
Tenten inhaled deeply and blew a breath of grey towards the ceiling before she answered, “It’s been running smooth. My men have kept things in order.”
“Any new shipments lately?”
“Not too many. Just a few here and there. Overall, it’s been pretty quiet,” Tenten said.
A moment of silence passed. Then, like waves washing over the sand, understanding fell over her expression. Because if Akatsuki was getting ready for a major assault, things wouldn’t be quiet.
“Fuck, how could I be such an idiot?”
Sakura bite back her urge to frown. She wanted to snap at Tenten for her oversight, but Sakura knew now that the brunette had realized her mistake, she would work tirelessly to correct it. It not only was a dangerous error but a stark embarrassment.
“Akatsuki is aware the warehouse has been taken,” Sakura said out loud so there could be no mistaking. “They’re looking to build their assault elsewhere.”
“How could they know?” Lee asked.
Kisame, was Sakura’s first thought. She didn’t know if the slip was his fault and frankly, right now it didn’t matter. She needed to get the situation under control. Everything else could wait until later.
“I don’t know,” Sakura said, not sparing him a glance. “Obviously someone let something slip, but that’s not our primary concern at the moment.”
“What do you want me to do?” Tenten asked, her tone a little meek. As if she were still embarrassed by her grave oversight.
Sakura shook her head. “Nothing yet. There’s something I have to do before I can figure out how we move forward.”
She didn’t have to glance at the brunette to know that her answer didn’t quite please her, but Tenten didn’t argue. Instead, she stubbed out her cigarette on the corner of her desk and stood just as Sakura did.
“I’ll fix this,” Tenten promised.
Sakura shook her head. “It’s too late. We need to move on. I’ll let you know soon what I need.”
With that, Sakura made ready to leave. Only before she could make it even two steps, Tenten stopped her. “One other thing, Tsunade. I have that order you asked for.”
Pausing, Sakura turned to glance back at Tenten. “Already? That was quick.”
Tenten simply smiled, relieved that she could at least do this one thing right. “You said you needed it fast.”
The brunette jerked her chin towards Lee, who was already on his feet and making his way towards the closet in the corner. He disappeared inside for a minute before he returned with a black box. Inside was a single Glock. 9mm and as black as the midnight sky. And exactly what Sakura needed.
xx
If there was one thing Sakura avoided, it was children. They were young and bubbly and still learning about the world and all it had to offer. They had their entire lives laid out before them with the chance of a bright, happy future. And that was something Sakura didn’t want to be responsible for destroying.
Tonight, however, she found it unavoidable. Especially when the place Sakura found herself was the inside of an elementary.
The school was decorated for the night’s occasion. Flickering fairy lights and white flowers lined the entrance of the stone building. Inside, silk cloths hung from the ceilings and covered the counters where parents could purchase snacks and drinks. All to make for one magical night at the ballet. A show that the five- and six-year-olds were likely more excited for than the parents themselves.
It might be just a performance put on by children, but the adults were dressed as if they were attending the New York City Ballet, most wearing expensive evening gowns and designer suits. They chatted in small groups with crystal glasses of champagne in hand.
Sakura fit in seamlessly in her flowing, gold, lace dress. She slipped through the crowd easily, her intentions set solely on her goal.
As it turned out, Killer Bee was not a difficult man to find. He stood out like a sore thumb with his slicked back, bleach blond hair and broad, stocky figure. He was seated alone, his attention captured by one of the pamphlets the greeters at the door were handing out. It made it easier to appear casual when he wasn’t observing.
With an elegance that had been drilled into her, Sakura grasped the long skirt of her dress with one hand, her small clutch and her own pamphlet in the other, before she maneuvered around the other attendees.
“Is this seat taken?” Sakura asked, already lowering herself down beside him.
Killer Bee glanced up and gazed at her, his eyes raking down her form carefully before he gave a small shake of his head. “No.”
Smiling, Sakura made herself comfortable before she opened her pamphlet and gave it a onceover. For appearance’s sake.
“This should be quite the performance,” she said after a moment. “The kids have worked so hard.”
“So, they have,” Bee agreed. “My niece has been going on about it for weeks now.”
“How darling.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura saw Bee glance at her. He seemed to study her a moment before asking, “Which one is yours?”
His tone had suddenly turned a little stiff, a little sharp. Immediately Sakura knew he had recognized her. She closed her pamphlet and raised her eyes to meet his, her gaze cool. “I think you know,” she murmured.
A frown settled upon his hard features. “You’re Tsunade.”
“So I am.”
“You have quite the pair coming here,” he said, his entire presence suddenly unwelcoming.
It only made Sakura smile. “I have many things, but a ‘pair’ is not one.”
His stern expression didn’t shift. “I know what you want and I’m not interested. You may feel free to threaten me, but I promise you, you cannot shake me.”
“That I don’t doubt,” she agreed pleasantly. “Which is why it’s a good thing I have no threats. I simply want to talk.”
“Your relationship with my company says otherwise,” Killer Bee said. He lowered his voice slightly as a couple passed, but his gaze never left hers.
Sakura waited until the passing parents were out of range before she continued, “Perhaps. Still, it’s worth a try.”
When Bee simply stared at her, she added with an easy tone, “It’s come to my attention recently that you are a friend of Naruto’s.”
There was a small shift in Bee’s expression. Minimal, slight. So minute that she would have missed it had she not been watching. She had to bite back her smirk. It seemed Ino’s information was spot on.
“What of it?” he asked after a small pause.
Sakura simply smiled comfortingly at his defensive tone. He was almost too easy to read. “I came to extend my condolences.”
Bee stared at her a long moment before understanding passed behind his expression. “He’s dead.”
She nodded, a somber look falling over her face.
To her surprise, Bee sat back in his chair before he ran a hand over his hair, pressing his flat locks even flatter against his head. A look of what appeared to be sadness crossed his expression, but it was gone as quick as it had come.
“To be honest, I’m not surprised,” Bee eventually said. “Kid always had a bit of a soft heart. Too bad. I liked him. He was always sending gifts to my niece.”
“I was fortunate enough to get to know Naruto in the months before his death. He was a good guy like that,” Sakura murmured quietly.
She made a point of leaving out the part where he was also a not-so-good guy. With the whole moving and trading arms for her and all. He died in a way fit for how he had lived.
Then she fixed Bee with an unwavering stare. “He’d still be here though, if it wasn’t for your company.”
When Bee glanced at her, there was a look of confusion on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Your leader had him taken care of.”
“For what reason?”
“Honestly, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she told him.
Which wasn’t technically a lie. Just not even remotely the whole truth.
“That’s the problem with your company,” Sakura continued. “They don’t care what they have to do to get what they want. Maybe next time, it won’t be Naruto that’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe it’ll be you.”
“They wouldn’t. I’m too important to them,” Bee said with the utmost confidence.
Sakura merely turned her gaze to the stage as the overhead lights began to dim. Her next words a mere whisper for only him to hear: “But your niece isn’t.”
xx
That night, there were no stars out. They were hidden. Polluted by the light from the city. Still, Sakura stood on the sidewalk with her head tilted back as she stared up at the sky, searching for any tiny glimmer as if it may give her some answers.
When they didn’t, she returned her gaze back down. She eyed the street around her, taking in the couples that walked hand-in-hand as they headed to dinner or perhaps back home. They all appeared so happy, so content.
Sakura missed that feeling. The briefest thought of calling Itachi crossed her mind, but she dismissed it as quickly as it had come. There was something else she had to do tonight. Someone else she had to see.
Slipping her hand into the pocket of her jacket, Sakura retrieved the phone there. It was a burner, her own purposely left in her apartment. Hashirama picked up on the third ring.
“Sorry for the late call,” Sakura greeted with more pleasantness than she felt. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
On the other end of the line, Hashirama gave a brief pause. “Sakura? I didn’t recognize your number.”
“New phone,” she told him. “My other one took a bit of a swim. Are you busy?”
Hashirama gave a small huff. Of amusement or annoyance, she didn’t know. “At three in the morning? Yes, but what can I do for you?” he asked.
She got right to the point. “We need to talk. I just got news on Madara’s movements that I think you’ll want to hear about.”
“And what might that be?”
Sakura didn’t immediately answer. Instead her gaze wandered over the shadows across the street. As if she were expecting Madara to be lurking just out of sight. For the first time, she felt a little nervous. Normally Kakashi had her back. But tonight, she knew he was across town. Watching the warehouse in Newark. Exactly where she had asked him to be.
“I can’t tell you over the phone,” Sakura eventually said. “Madara’s been watching me again.”
There was a small pause before Hashirama released a long sigh. “Meet me at my warehouse along the river in an hour.”
Then he hung up.
And she did. And hour before sunrise, Sakura arrived at Hashirama’s property. She had been there only once before nearly a year ago, but it hadn’t changed much in the time. She followed the parking lot around the side of an office building until she came to the warehouse behind it.
Near the entrance, Hashirama’s car sat running. His part-driver, part-bodyguard jumped out upon her approach and opened the back door for her. She smiled her thanks at him before she slipped inside.
Hashirama was busy on his phone when the door shut behind her. Sakura simply waited patiently, crossing one leg over the other. Beneath her, the leather seat was smooth and soft. A complete contrast to the hard, clunky gun strapped to her hip. The one Tenten had given her earlier that day.
After a minute, Hashirama finally darkened the screen and looked up. He said nothing for a minute, taking in the men’s shirt she was wearing. She had tucked the ends into her jeans to hide the bagginess but it still hung on her form.
Hashirama said nothing about it. Not that he needed to. His judgement was written all over his expression.
“You said you had information,” he finally began.
Sakura nodded, unfazed by the disapproval in his gaze. “I do. Madara is moving again. My sources say it’s somewhere in the south.”
“Do you know where?”
“Not yet,” she lied. “My bigger concern is that there seems to be more allies helping Akatsuki. Do you know how they’re gaining such a following so quickly?”
That news made Hashirama frown. “Madara is very persuasive and Izuna is violent. And they both have money. It would not be difficult for them to find more men.”
“So how do we stop them?”
“Simple,” he said. “You cut off their finances and therefore their means to gather more men.”
Sakura shot him a flat look. “Madara’s not an idiot, and as much as I claim Izuna is, he isn’t either. Their accounts are going to have the highest level of security and safeguards. It’s not like we can just call the police and have them freeze their assets.”
“I said the solution was simple, not easy,” Hashirama chided. Then his expression relaxed. “But if we can figure out a way to do that, then we will weaken their attack.”
Sakura hummed her agreement but didn’t reply.
Hashirama only allowed the silence to envelope them a moment before he spoke again, “If Madara is planning to strike from a new location, we need to focus our concerns on that at the moment. Your last reports were calculating a massive assault, which means that we will need to attack before Akatsuki does. Catch them off guard while they’re still organizing.”
“I agreed,” she said.
“Then we need to talk to our informants in the Underground to see if they’ve heard where Madara might have moved his operation.”
Sakura nodded but remained quiet as she considered her conversation with Ino earlier that day. She also thought about how Hashirama had so easily tossed Tobirama aside. Like his brother was nothing more than a clingy child when he had killed for Hashirama, and nearly been killed himself.
“Do you remember the warehouse in Newark?” Sakura asked quietly. “The one where Tobirama’s men were ambushed?”
A look of confusion passed over Hashirama expression. “What of it?”
“You said you took over the assault. Did you burn it to the ground?”
She had expected Hashirama to lie and say he had. Because that was what he had promised Tobirama after he had nearly been killed.
To her surprise, Hashirama shook his head. “No, but my men hunted down every man that was there that night and took them out. The warehouse is still there, but I guarantee it is empty.”
Like a light turning on, it suddenly occurred to Sakura that Hashirama had always planned on betraying his brother. Perhaps he had even known Tobirama would be ambushed that night and had hoped he would be killed. It would have been easier than an outright betrayal. The thought nearly made her sick. For Hashirama had always played the part of a caring brother. Both to Tobirama and to everyone around him.
Taking a slow breath, Sakura reigned in her emotions. She was quiet a moment as she chose her next words carefully.
“And if the warehouse isn’t empty?” she eventually asked.
A thoughtful look passed over Hashirama’s face. “You think Madara relocated Akatsuki’s stores there? It would be a smart move on his part. We should confirm they’re there. Once we do, we can prepare to strike.”
“I’m already prepared,” Sakura told him. “My guns are all accounted and Tobirama’s men are on standby.”
Just as she expected, Hashirama went suddenly still. His expression remained the same but his eyes hardened. It seemed as if the very world outside the car paused as well. “I believe we already discussed this,” he said evenly, sternly.
Sakura remained unfazed. “We did,” she agreed. “And while I appreciate your input, I have decided that it is best to keep my plan as I had originally arranged it.”
Hashirama didn’t immediately reply, but his upset was apparent in the way his mouth suddenly tightened into a firm line. He was angry with her. Beyond angry. “You are much too arrogant for your age. You forget that I am the one who saved you rom that orphanage.”
She resisted the urge to childishly roll her eyes. “How could I? You remind me every chance you get.”
“And yet you’re still an ungrateful whore,” he said, pointedly eyeing her oversized shirt again.
It was then that she realized he thought she was sleeping with Tobirama again. His incorrect presumption nearly made her laugh but she bit it back. Instead she shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
By him and by others, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth. Her easy expression melted away as those familiar feelings of resentment began to stir. She had pushed them down for so long, compressed them and kept them hidden that she could barely contain them any longer. But she did. Because she had to. At least until her job was finished.
“You think you saved me,” Sakura told him, her tone one of cold indifference. “But really you condemned me. You sealed my fate that day you chose me. And your own.”
And like a light had been turned on, Hashirama’s expression shifted. Only a faint look of understanding passing behind his eyes. “Tsunade didn’t teach you her trade,” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. “She trained you to be an assassin. To kill me.”
What happened next only took a matter on seconds. Hashirama reached for his gun a split second too late. He wasn’t even given the chance to unholster it before Sakura withdrew her own weapon and fired a single shot. The bullet ripped through his knuckles. Blood splattered against the leather seats as he choked back a sound of pain.
Outside the car, Hashirama’s bodyguard reacted to the gunfire. Sakura barely spared him a glance as she fired two shots through the window, both striking him center mass. He hit the ground with an audible thump.
Smoke rose from the barrel of Sakura’s gun as she redirected it at Hashirama, her expression void as if she were watching a dull movie unfold before her.
“You shouldn’t have betrayed Tsunade,” Sakura told him matter-of-factly.
Across the way, Hashirama gripped his mangled hand, thick blood clots and bits of tissue coating his flesh. What Sakura could only describe as hate filled his eyes.
“Tsunade was weak,” he spat. “She got what she deserved. I should have never brought you to her.”
Sakura shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps, but I’m not here to be Jury or Judge.”
“Just Executioner,” he retorted. “Tobirama will never forgive you. He’ll kill you for this.”
Hashirama was grasping at straws now, desperate to save his own life. Sakura knew he would never lower himself to begging – he was much too proud for that – but he would do everything he could to coerce her otherwise.
A sneer crossed Hashirama’s face then. Sakura pulled the trigger the same instant he made to lunge for her. Gracelessly, he slumped back into his seat, a thick trail of blood slipping down the center of his forehead where the bullet at entered.
Sakura stared into Hashirama’s lifeless eyes for only a few moments, refusing to allow herself to feel. It surprised her at how easy it was. She felt no regret or relief with his death. Hashirama had been her assignment from the start. And she had completed it.
xx
It had been a warm summer night the night Tsunade had given Sakura her mission. Sakura had been sitting in the dining room, disassembling and reassembling a new 9mm when Tsunade had turned her back on the setting sun to observe her actions.
She had a glass of vodka in one hand, a cigarette between her fingers, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the fact that it was still Tsunade’s first glass. By the end of dinner, she was normally well into her third.
“You’ve been studying the documents I gave you?” Tsunade asked.
Sakura looked up from the dismantled weapon to nod. “Yes.”
“And what can you infer from them?”
“That given Hashirama’s current status, he’s going to look to expand his territory in New York within the coming years. His brother, Tobirama, is helping him for now but Hashirama’s going to need to side with more allies to ensure that he can keep reaching without the threat of spreading himself too thin,” Sakura answered.
Tsunade was quiet even after Sakura finished. She took a long drag off her cigarette, her eyes never leaving Sakura from where she sat at the table, before she stubbed the smoke out on the railing and crossed the room.
Sakura remained quiet as Tsunade lowered herself into the chair beside her, her haze eyes only briefly looking away to peer at the pieces of gun laid out upon the table.
“Finish it,” Tsunade ordered.
In only a matter of seconds, Sakura rebuilt the weapon she had just taken apart, magazine loaded with a bullet in the chamber. The start of a smile crossed Tsunade’s face.
“You’re ready,” she said.
When Sakura shook her head in confusion, Tsunade told her, “In the coming years, Hashirama is going to need help expanding his territory, just as you said. When that time comes, I want you to offer your services. You’re to get close to him. Make him trust you, make him want to bring you closer. And when he is completely reliant upon you, you’re going to kill him.”
Sakura only stared back in confusion. “I don’t understand. You’re family.”
Tsunade barked out a loud before she took a long sip from her glass. “Perhaps in name, but you of all people should know that family is not who you are born into.”
Sakura didn’t reply to that as she dropped her gaze, but Tsunade continued nonetheless.
“That man has taken advantage of me for years,” she murmured, more to herself than to Sakura. “I can’t kill him outright, which is why I’ve taught you everything I can. You will do this for me.”
xx
All of Tsunade’s training had suddenly made sense that day. Why she had taught Sakura her trade, how to lie, how to work the Underground, how to fight. How to murder. Sakura’s entire life had all been leading up to this.
And now it was over.
The weight of her mission had been pressing down on her for nearly six years. Sakura thought she would feel free, but now that she was sitting here, Hashirama’s corpse growing colder with each passing minute, she knew she was just getting started.
After all, if the next part of her plan was to work, she would need to frame Madara for the murder.
Itachi shoved Sakura down as glass exploded everywhere. She hit the ground hard, her palms stinging as she caught herself on the pavement, but in the chaos of it all, the pain didn’t register as she scrambled for her gun.
Around them, people screamed as bullets buzzed through the air. Sakura could hear the unmistakable thuds as a handful embedded into the other side of the car they had taken refuge behind. Beside her, the crack of Itachi’s gun filled her ears and she risked peering over the hood to unload an entire clip at their attackers. She ducked again when the headlight next to her head exploded.
“I can’t make out a plate,” she yelled over the gunfire.
Itachi shook his head, taking shelter next to her. “I can’t either. How many more rounds do you have?” he asked, emptying his clip and reloaded his weapon before he had even finished asking the question.
Sakura didn’t have to count. She always knew exactly how much she carried. “Two more clips.”
Somewhere nearby, a girl let out a sharp scream. One of absolute pure terror. It echoed in Sakura’s ears louder than the rest, but she didn’t dare divert her attention. Instead, she pushed herself back onto her knees and took aim, her bullets blending with Itachi’s as they fired back at the black SUV.
A handful punctured the side of the car and shattered the back window, but none seemed to land. Growling, Sakura took cover once more to reload her weapon, but before she could strike again, Itachi landed on top of her and shoved her flat against the ground.
“Get down,” he hissed.
A moment later she understood why when the unmistakable crack of a high-powered rifle ripped through the air. It shredded through the body of the car, raining shrapnel down on top of them. Sakura held Itachi flush against her as the bullets impacted the cement only inches from where they lay. She held her breath, her fingers digging into his sides as she prayed to whatever god might be up there that he wasn’t struck.
After what seemed like an eternity and then another one, there was a break in the shots. Itachi didn’t waste any time. In a blink of a moment, he was up and firing again. Sakura joined him, but before she could pull the trigger, blood sprayed out the passenger window. It seemed that was enough to make the driver nervous for they hit the gas and sped away. The firefight ending as quickly as it had begun.
The moment the car was out of sight, a hush fell over the street. Only the faint call of sirens in the distance broke up the utter quiet, a signal that help was on the way. Some minutes too late.
Without a word, Sakura slowly lowered herself back to the ground, her knees like rubber as the adrenaline washed out of her system. She stared at the car they had taken cover behind, counting the gaping wounds in the side of it where the bullets had ripped through the cheap metal. Just by the exit pattern, she knew it had been an AK-47. She tried not to think of how close they had just come to death. It still felt like he was breathing down her neck.
Pulling her gaze away, Sakura turned her head to glance at Itachi. He was still crouched beside her, his gun still poised between his hands as he stared down the road where the shooters had disappeared, as if he was expecting them to return for another round. There were small scratches on both his forearms that were still bleeding slightly, but she didn’t see any bullet or metal fragments. They fortunately didn’t appear to be anything significant.
Only once Itachi was certain they were safe for the time being, did he relax his tense stance. He holstered his gun before he glanced at her. He looked her over carefully, his eyes lingering somewhere near her shoulder.
It was then that she realized she had been grazed by some shrapnel. Blood was bubbling from the cut and trailing down her arm. Now that she was aware of it, her bicep began to burn, but it wasn’t anything worth worrying over.
“It’s nothing,” she said, wiping the blood away on her dress.
Itachi studied her for a long moment before he nodded. Then his eyes fell past her, his expression suddenly sobering some.
Confused, Sakura followed his gaze to find the body of a young girl was laying only a few yards away. A victim caught in the crossfire. There was a pool of blood slowly spreading around her, seeping into the cement and staining her pale pink dress. Her lifeless face didn’t look much younger than Sakura’s.
Sakura forced herself to tear her eyes away as hollowness carved a hole out in her chest. “We have to go,” she said quietly. “Before the police get here.”
Itachi didn’t answer but after a moment he pushed himself to his feet. He helped her stand as well before they both hurried into the closest alley and disappeared into the dark.
xx
Less than half an hour later, Sakura stood just behind Itachi as he knocked on the door of a grungy-looking apartment. The hallway itself was dimly lit with a blue carpet that was faded down the center from use and stained in some spots. It was apparent that the building was minimally cared for.
The patter of footsteps on the other side of the door had Sakura snapping her attention forward again, every sound making her a little jumpy after what they had just been through. She didn’t know who she was expecting but she blinked in surprise when the door swung open to reveal Shisui. Dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a maroon shirt, he obviously hadn’t been expecting them. His brow cocked curiously but after taking in their disheveled clothes and somber expressions, he stepped back and gestured for them to come inside.
“I heard there was a shooting,” he said after they had closed the door behind them. “I should have figured it was you two.”
“You say that as if it was our fault,” Itachi said, his tone mildly irritated. But not as Shisui. Rather, at the situation itself. “Madara must have caught wind of our meeting today and was on the hunt for us.”
Sakura paused where the kitchen met the living room and took a curious glance around, noting that while the apartment building itself seemed in disrepair, Shisui’s apartment looked newly remodeled with granite counter tops and clean, oak floors. It was like walking through the wardrobe into Narnia.
Upon Itachi’s comment, she turned to regard them. “Actually, it was Izuna.”
Shisui paused from where he had sat behind his computer, cup of noddle in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. There was some sort of CIA database displayed on the monitor with information scrolling by but he seemed to give it no mind.
“You’re certain?” Shisui asked.
She nodded as her gaze continued about the room. There were three different gaming systems in front of a large flat screen television with a wide, comfortable chair lined up right in front. For some reason, she wasn’t entirely surprised to learn Shisui was a gamer.
“Madara’s too subtle to do a drive-by shooting,” she said. “But Izuna…well, I might have pissed him off once or twice. Likely more.”
“Izuna is not someone you want as an enemy,” Shisui warned.
Sakura was hardly fazed. “Neither am I.”
“Izuna is the black sheep of the family,” Itachi said, if only to break the staring contest Sakura and Shisui suddenly found themselves in. “He was never CIA, but when Madara turned, Izuna was only too willing to help his brother. I believe money has always been his motive for…well everything.”
That hardly surprised Sakura, but she didn’t reply as her phone suddenly pinged in her pocket. She had texted both Kakashi and Ino while she had dashed through the city with Itachi. Kakashi she had heard from, but Ino….the blonde still hadn’t replied. At least until now.
‘Got out in time. With Shika,’ Ino’s message said. Then another text came in. ‘No eyes in the club. I think you were found, not followed, but I would still lay low.’
Sakura replied quickly, telling her to do the same before she returned her attention back to the Uchiha cousins. Shisui had set his Cup of Noodle down to free his hands. His fingers ran across his keyboard while Itachi stood just behind him.
“It looks like there’s only been two reports of gunshot wounds reported to the hospital tonight. Both of which seem to be bystanders, but I’ll keep looking in case one of Izuna’s men checks in. I’ll have the company pick anyone up if they go in for treatment,” Shisui said. Then he glanced at Itachi. “You two should stay here for now. Get washed up and wait a few hours until things calm down.”
“Thanks, Shi,” Itachi said.
The older of the two waved him off, only pulling his eyes away from his computer to shoot them both a look. “And stay out of the pantry.”
Itachi didn’t reply to that but he was smiling when he turned away. He led Sakura down the hall before opening the first door on the right. It was a spare bedroom. Inside there was a plain mattress with a single pillow and a simple dresser, a complete opposite to the rest of the apartment that was so well furnished.
Itachi didn’t give the room much of a look over, seemingly been there before. He simply steered her into the connected bathroom. Inside, he began pulling drawers open, searching for something. Sakura didn’t know what until he pulled out a first aid kit.
“Let me see your arm.”
She nearly laughed. “What? It’s nothing.”
“You’re still bleeding,” he told her.
“It’s barely a scratch.”
“Sakura.”
His tone was velvet wrapped around hard steel. It gave her pause, but when she met his gaze, she found only tenderness. It was enough to make her stop resisting. His touch was gentle as he pulled her arm closer. When he was sure there weren’t any metal shards embedded in her skin, he grabbed a washcloth and wetted it before he cleaned the blood and grime from her skin.
Goosebumps rose along her arm as he dapped disinfectant along the scrape before he grabbed a roll of gauze and bandaged the small wound. As soon as he was done, Sakura grabbed the medicine from the counter and began cleaning the cuts along his own arms. They were mere scratches. Probably not even worth cleaning at all, but she found the simple action soothed her. Helped calm the nerves that had become frayed from the shooting.
“We’re really something, aren’t we?” Sakura murmured at some point.
“Not quite the classic love story,” Itachi agreed with quiet amusement.
“That’s okay. I always thought they were kinda boring anyway.”
She looked away to put the disinfectant aside. When she turned back, she found he was watching her with an unreadable expression. She opened her mouth but before she could ask what that look was for, he slipped his arm around her waist and bent his head to kiss her.
It was simple and sweet. He kissed her simply for the sake of kissing her and she melted against him, her hands falling to his chest. All she felt was him, his heat and his hands as they slid up her spine to tangle into her already tangled hair.
Sakura wasn’t quite sure who deepened the kiss first. She was only acutely aware of the heat that began to build low in her stomach as his tongue twisted with hers, a little rougher, a little more demanding than usual. That arousal sharpened abruptly when Itachi grabbed her hips and pulled them flush against his. The fabric of his jeans felt rough even through the material of her dress, but it only added fuel to the fire that was simmering within her.
Just below her navel, his growing bulge pressed into her stomach and without breaking their kiss, she unbuttoned his pants and slipped her hand inside to grasp him. Itachi groaned against her lips as she squeezed him, his hot, velvety length heavy in her hand. That simply sound urged Sakura on.
Pulling his pants down, she dropped to her knees before she took him in her mouth. Itachi inhaled sharply through his teeth as his fingers threaded into her hair. She bobbed her head slowly at first, taking time to taste him before she built up speed.
Peering through her lashes, Sakura looked up to find Itachi’s expression was lined with pleasure. His lips were pursed, muting his groans and reminding her they weren’t alone. Still, it didn’t stop her from taking him all the way in her mouth before she pulled back to fist the bottom of his length, her tongue paying special attention to his head. His grip on her hair tightened to the point of near pain.
“Fuck,” Itachi growled, jerking her back onto her feet. “You drive me crazy.”
He crashed his mouth back against hers, his desperation like a riptide. So strong and frantic. Pulling her down, down and threatening to never let her up again. She didn’t resist when his hands slipped under the hem of her dress and pulled her panties down. As soon as they were gone, he hoisted her up onto the counter and stepped between her legs, bunching her skirt around her hips.
Sakura was already so wet that he slipped inside her easily. Just like every time before, he stretched her deliciously, but she wasn’t given the time to appreciate the initial penetration as he started a hard rhythm.
She cried out when his tip nudged her cervix. “Fuck! Right there,” she said with a rough whisper as she pulled him closer. A little needlessly because she was certain he already knew every inch of her body.
Her head fell back against the mirror as he moved against her and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into the exposed flesh at her collarbone. The pained pleasure made her gasp again and she dug her fingers into his shirt.
“Is it true?” Itachi asked against her skin.
Sakura bit back another moan. “Is what true?”
“That you find Kisame hot.”
His statement was so out of the blue that it cut through Sakura’s lust-clouded mind. She paused, even as Itachi continued his pace, and looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were as black as night and filled with heat and desire, but also something else. Jealousy perhaps?
“Did what I say bother you?” she asked.
His expression seemed to tighten as his hips eased to a slow rhythm. “You know it does.”
She couldn’t resist the small smile that formed in the corner of her mouth at his answer and she grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him closer until their lips were less than an inch apart. “But you’re the one fucking me, aren’t you? Not him.”
This close, Sakura could make out every flicker of his expression, which is why she saw the very moment his mouth turned up into a smirk right before he thrust up into her particularly hard. She bit back her yelp as his lips brushed against jaw. “And that is the way it is going to stay.”
His possessive tone might have made her bristle had they been in any other situation, but with him buried inside her, it only made her hotter, wetter. With her hands still gripping his collar, she forced his mouth to hers again, his lips muffling her cries of pleasure. She tightened around him, already feeling the familiar pressure of her approaching orgasm.
“I’m so close,” she told him, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist.
He replied by slipping his hand between them, his thumb pressing against the sensitive pearl just above where they were joined. “Then come for me. And only me.”
And she did.
With a broken moan, Sakura shuddered against him. He cupped the back of her neck to keep her from smashing her head back against the mirror, all the while keeping his pace. Her fingers gripped his shirt so tightly, she was amazed it didn’t tear as the waves of her climax washed through her.
Sakura wasn’t even consciously aware of his name tumbling from her lips, but those three syllables were enough to do Itachi in. He held her through his own orgasm, one hand bruising her hip with the other still at her neck. He groaned brokenly against the shell of her ear as he emptied himself inside of her, his hips continuing to roll against hers until the last waves of his climax washed through him.
The bathroom was utterly still after that. Only the sound of their shaking breaths echoing back at them filled the quiet. In the aftermath, Sakura’s fingers loosened their tight grip on his shirt but she didn’t release him completely as she rested her face in the crook of his neck. Just his mere presence relaxed her more than the sex ever could. A small smile crossed her lips.
“What is it?” Itachi asked, his arms tightening around her minutely.
Her eyes closed as she shook her head against his collarbone. “I just like that possessive side of you. It’s nice…to be wanted. It makes me happy.”
He didn’t immediately reply to that. Instead, he pulled back, just enough to look down at her to search her face. “You’ve never said that before.”
“It’s hard to admit it,” she told him quietly. “I’ve never been allowed to be happy about anything before.”
Sakura half-expected a look of pity to cross his face but it never came. He simply smiled softly before he bent his head to kiss her. This time, there was no lust or heat behind it, but neither was it lacking in passion. When he pulled away, he eased himself out of her before he helped her stand. With gentle hands, he unzipped her dress and slipped it off her before he finished undressing himself.
They showered together, not saying a word under the spray of the water and not needing to. Afterwards, they laid in bed, their clothes left in the bathroom and the used towels on the floor. Sakura could hear every beat of Itachi’s heart against her ear as she rested her head on his chest. His fingers dragged through her hair, lulling her to sleep as the stress of the day fell forgotten.
“What if we left?” Itachi asked into the quiet.
“In a few hours,” she murmured. “We need to give the streets some more time to settle down.”
He gave a small pause. Then said, “I meant leave New York. What if we just left everything and disappeared?”
As soon as his words registered, Sakura stilled. She took a moment to blink the sleep from her mind before she pushed herself up onto her elbows. Just enough to look down at him. “You mean run away?”
Itachi nodded before he ran his fingers through her hair. “We could do it. Leave here and never come back.”
“You know we can’t,” she said with a small, forced smile. Hoping he was teasing. Wishing he was just telling her a fantasy.
“Why not?”
Her smile faded when she realized he was serious. “Because you have parents and a brother. And Shisui. And I have…”
“You have what?”
She chewed the inside of her lip before answering, “I have things to do here.”
“Sakura…” he began.
And for once, she was glad he didn’t say whatever he was about to. Instead, she lay back down upon his coaxing as the quiet settled over them again. No longer soft and comfortable. But stale and stagnant with words and thoughts unspoken.
Some time passed before Itachi’s hand fell still and his breath evened out. But even with his gentle warmth and comfortable weight of his arms around her, Sakura continued to lay awake, replaying his words over in her head.
It sounded like a wonderful fantasy but it was only that. Eventually the guilt would eat away at Itachi and she knew she wouldn’t be able to watch that happen. No matter how much the thought of being with him, where they could go to dinner or coffee or the movies without the fear of being seen or attacked, appealed to her.
Just before dawn, Sakura slipped out of bed. She dressed herself in her clothes from last night, ignoring the blood and grime on her dress. Not wanting to make a sound, she held her heels between her fingers as she crept down the hall.
To her surprise, Shisui was still awake. He was behind his computer, his back to her. Sakura tried to slip out unheard but his fingers stilled on the keyboard before she even made it halfway across the room.
“Not even going to say goodbye?”
She paused with a cringe before she glanced back at him. "I didn’t want to interrupt you.“
"I meant to Itachi,” he clarified, half turning in his chair to look at her.
She hid her frown. “It’s easier this way.”
“For you or for him?”
Sakura didn’t answer.
Shisui sighed in response before he spun his chair around to face her fully. “Look, I’m just worried about him. And you’re, well you. If anything happens to him….”
“I’m threatened a dozen times a day, Shisui,” she countered, unfazed.
However, Shisui simply shook his head, something akin to a sadness in his expression. “You misunderstand me. That wasn’t a threat. It’s a plea.”
Sakura held his gaze for a long moment as something passed between them. An unspoken understanding. Or perhaps it had been spoken.
She held Shisui’s gaze evenly as she nodded her head once. “I’ll protect him any way I can.”
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Then he turned back to his computer, as if she had never been there.
xx
Sakura texted Kakashi the moment she was in the back of a taxi and on her way towards her apartment downtown, the closest one to Shisui’s. She wanted to be alone, but she knew the silence would only talk back to her. Ask her questions and give her ideas she didn’t want to deal with just yet.
He hadn’t replied by the time her cab dropped her off out front, but Kakashi had never failed her before. She doubted he would do so now.
Biting back a yawn, Sakura crossed the lobby to the elevator. She took it to her floor with every intention of changing into a pair of sweats and a comfortable t-shirt before she sat down with Kakashi and told him everything she had learned. There was still so much planning to be made. And she’d need a second, clearer head to help her do it.
Slipping into her condo, Sakura shut the door behind her and made her way further inside. The instant she flipped on the lights, she stilled. For it wasn’t Kakashi standing in her living room. But rather, Hashirama.
He was standing before the large, bay window, his back presented to her. There were two other men with him. Bodyguards, both dressed in clean, expensive suits. They eyed her stiffly as she entered the room, as if she were the uninvited guest rather than the other way around.
A little wary, Sakura scanned the rest of the immediate area, relieved when she found no one else present. Hashirama likely wasn’t here to bring her harm then. Not that she could really think of any other reason as to why he would be here at such an hour.
“It’s a little early for breakfast, isn’t it?” Sakura said pleasantly.
“Then it is a good thing I am not here for it,” Hashirama told her, his gaze still fixated out the window.
“I figured not,” she said with almost a sigh. She drew to a stop where the living room met the kitchen. “Two visits in less than one day. Must be something important.”
Before Hashirama, the sky was just beginning to lighten from a dark blue to a softer indigo. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was waiting to watch the coming sunrise. But she did know better, which is why she was hardly surprised when he turned his back to the coming morning to regard her. “It is. There has been a change of plans.”
“Oh?” Sakura asked as he descended the two steps that led from the bay window down to where the living room furniture was neatly organized in front of a flat screen television.
Hashirama didn’t speak until he made himself comfortable on the end of her white, designer couch. “I have decided you won’t be using Tobirama’s men to assist with bringing down Akatsuki. You will use mine.”
His words made Sakura noticeably give pause. She stared at him for a long moment before she frowned. “That would delay any potential raids by at least a day. If not longer.”
“It is an inconvenience,” he nodded amicably, “but it is what I am ordering.”
Confused, Sakura furrowed her brows. “I’m already in communication with Tobirama’s men. It would be more than just an inconvenience. It would require me shuffling information, weapons, locations. All my resources,” she listed.
Hashirama nodded. “I understand. And I am willing to compensate you for the trouble.”
“It has nothing to do with money, Hashirama,” she shook her head. “There’s no way Tobirama would agree to this. What did he say when you told him?”
When he remained silent, cold understanding dawned on her. It settled deep in the pit of her stomach.
“He doesn’t know, does he?” she asked quietly.
Rather than offer her a direct reply, Hashirama adjusted the expensive watch on his wrist, his eyes briefly flickering to the time, as if he had somewhere to be. “My brother will no longer be assisting you with any matters pertaining to Akatsuki. All future assets needed will be brought to my attention and provided by me and my contacts only.”
“You mean to cut him out,” Sakura said, unable to keep her tone from taking on a sharper edge.
“I understand your hesitance. Tobirama was loyal to a point with you, just as he has been with me,” he told her. Somehow, she got the feeling that his tone was full of more compassion than he actually had. “But it is time the charity I have provided my brother come to an end. Tobirama is fully capable of handling his own assets and when Akatsuki has been dealt with, I am only willing to split with the profits to one other party.”
When he shot her a purposeful look, Sakura arched her brow in disbelief. “Me?”
“Do not be so surprised. You have proven that you can handle the work,” he told her. When she didn’t reply, Hashirama stood and made his way towards the door, only stopping briefly when he was beside her. “Do not think of this as a betrayal to my brother, Sakura. Tobirama will be given his own territory and the freedom to bring in and move product as he sees fit. It is time I stop holding his hand. What is that saying: Every sun has to set.”
Sakura pulled herself out of her thoughts as she recognized the saying. She couldn’t resist the small smile that formed on her lips. “I thought you didn’t know Arabic?”
He inclined his head slightly. “Perhaps I do not speak the tongue, but I do find their proverbs meaningful.” Then he nodded towards his guards, a silent signal for them to lead the way out. “Get some rest, Sakura. We will discuss the details later.”
Even after the door closed soundlessly behind him, Sakura didn’t immediately move. She stared at nothing as she thought, only coming back to herself when Kakashi stepped out of the shadows near the steps that led up to her bedroom.
He said nothing as he leaned against the wall. Simply waited for her to speak.
“How did he get in here?” she asked eventually.
“Front door.”
She frowned at that, wondering if he had somehow swiped the key Tobirama had stolen from her. Brothers.
“As soon as Akatsuki is dealt with, I’m selling this place,” she told him.
She swept past him to head to her bedroom where she grabbed a pair of sweats and a comfortable shirt. Even with Kakashi standing only a few feet away, she didn’t hesitate in stripping off her dress. She didn’t have to look to know that his back was turned.
“It seems that Hashirama doesn’t care for Tobirama as much as we thought,” he said.
“No,” Sakura agreed quietly. “It sounds like Hashirama had another motive when he took Tobirama in. He didn’t want a brother. He wanted a second set of hands to handle his growing assets.”
“And who better to do that than his poor, gangster brother who was living on the streets. Hashirama’s act of kindness pretty much guaranteed Tobirama’s blind loyalty,” Kakashi murmured. He only turned around after the rustling of clothes had stopped. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to tell Tobirama or are you going to carry out Hashirama’s orders?”
Sakura didn’t look at him. Instead she turned her attention to her arm as she pulled off the bandage Itachi had placed. The cut still stung but the bleeding had stopped. She stared at it for a long moment as she thought.
It felt like there was a red tide coming in. As if the waters around her were about to turn as crimson as blood and become deprived of all oxygen. Killing all those it touched and void of all life.
Sakura looked up slowly as the first morning light peeked over the horizon and spilled out into the room. It cut across her eyes, setting her emerald orbs on fire with new life. The sunlight was still too weak to do any real damage, but soon, it wouldn’t be. Just like her.
“I’m going to do what I’ve always done: whatever the hell I want.”
“You do have an actual plan, correct? To bring down Akatsuki?”
Sakura just smiled upon Hashirama’s question. This wasn’t the first time he had asked her this over the course of her short visit, but rather than bring her unease or the need to sooth his concerns, she found herself amused.
“No,” she answered honestly. Then she added quickly before his frown could fully form, “And that’s why it’s going to work. Because if I haven’t yet figured out how I’m going to take out Madara and his operation, then he won’t know either.”
Hashirama sat across from her behind a large, oak desk in the middle of his expensively furnished study. He looked like someone of importance, someone of nobility behind it. It made her wonder if he had chosen it simply for that purpose.
“I do not approve of that idea,” he told her sternly.
Sakura shrugged as she pretended to brush lint off the leather arm of her wide, plush chair. “I have your money. And Tobirama’s men and my guns. There is little else I need to win this war.”
“I do not like your confidence either,” he frowned, his tone just short of chiding. Then he sat forward in his chair as if he had just decided something important. “I will help you strategize. Together, we can make a plan. One that I am sure will end with Madara dead and Akatsuki dismantled–”
“No,” Sakura interrupted with a quiet but firm tone. “I have enough moving parts already. One more cog in the machine will complicate things. Make it easier for a part to stall. And this late in the game, I can’t have any failures.”
Hashirama eyed her. He stared at her so long she thought he might argue more. But then he leaned back again, the faintest glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “You still talk like you are speaking Arabic.”
“It’s a pretty language. It’s a shame you never learned it.”
“Perhaps one day.”
Sakura sincerely doubted that but she smiled pleasantly nonetheless. “Perhaps.”
Then she stood, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles from her black, leather jacket. “Don’t be too upset with me for my vagueness. I need you out of the line of fire. Once Akatsuki is taken out, someone will need to be there to swoop in to take their place before someone else can.”
“Not you?”
His hard gaze didn’t waver from hers but she smiled softly. “This is what I promised you, Hashirama. To take down Akatsuki so you can take their place in the New York Underworld.”
His reply was a pleased smirk. A little dark, a little twisted. Knowing that he was satisfied with her words, she picked up the glass of brandy he had poured her at the beginning of their meeting and tossed it back all in one go. She didn’t flinch at the burn. Simply smiled her farewell before she made her way out of the room.
One of Hashirama’s staff was there to open the front door for her as she made her exit. They waited until she was down the marble staircase that led to the large, circle driveway before silently shutting it once more.
Only once Sakura was through the tall, iron gates and off the property did she finally feel Hashirama’s gaze leave her. Her thoughts churned slowly as her conversation with Hashirama played over in her head. She hadn’t been completely honest when she told him she didn’t have a plan. She had one forming, but she’d need more information before she could organize the details and set it into motion. Something she hoped Ino could help her with.
They met at a little but busy café in Upper Manhattan. Ino was already there when Sakura arrived, sitting in the corner with a large coffee in a white, porcelain cup. The blonde drank it daintily, making sure not to spill it on her white blouse. In this setting, she looked like an accomplished businesswoman rather than a woman who knew something about everyone in the Underground.
“Any news?” Sakura asked, sliding into the seat across the small table.
“Nothing on the port you took over,” she sighed disappointed. “All I know is Akatsuki is about to bring a huge shipment over, one big enough to rival Hashirama’s supplies, but I don’t know when. I keep listening for more information, but everyone who knows something either hasn’t been given a date yet or they’re keeping it all hush-hush.”
“That’s not surprising,” Sakura said, sounding less disappointed than she was. “Madara knows that I’m speaking with the CIA. He’d want to keep that information under wraps.”
Ino’s eyes widened. “He does? Are you safe?”
“Never, but it’s fine. Have you heard anything else?”
The blonde looked like she wanted to ask more but she reluctantly let it go. “Yeah, actually. I heard rumor that there are some Akatsuki members are in the city.”
That caught Sakura’s attention. “Who?”
“I don’t know all their names, but for sure Deidara, as well as the arms dealer. The really big one.”
Kisame, Sakura thought. It was news to her that he was back in New York, Itachi hadn’t said anything to her, but she didn’t say anything to Ino. It was best for everyone involved if as few people knew about Kisame’s true loyalties as possible.
“Anyone else?”
Ino shook her head. “That’s all I’ve heard. I’m meeting with another contact tomorrow night. I’ll have more information later.”
Sakura nodded slowly. “Let me know what you.”
They lapsed into silence after that. Sakura lost in her thoughts and Ino quiet as she sipped her coffee. Some minutes passed before Sakura realized the blonde was watching her.
“What?” she asked.
Ino’s gaze didn’t waver from hers, unchagrined at being caught staring. “What’s going on?”
Sakura shook her head, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re different. Something happened. Something’s changed.”
“Nothing happened,” Sakura said. Then she let out the longest sigh someone had ever breathed. “But you’re right: something has changed.” When eyed her curiously, Sakura told her, “We’re no longer just small time. We’ve moved up into the big leagues. There’re greater rewards. Greater risks. So, I need to ask you something.”
Ino’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Ok?”
“Do you still want to stay?”
The blonde didn’t immediately answer, as if a little lost for words. “You’re asking if I want to leave you?”
“I’m asking if you’re willing to lose everything. Your freedom. Your life.”
Sakura felt her heart drop into her stomach when Ino’s gaze fell to her coffee. When she raised them again, there was understanding and something strong reflecting in her blue eyes. “You’re my best friend, Sakura. I know Shikamaru tried to shake you, that he blames you for dragging me back into the Underground, but it was only a matter of time before I came back myself. What I’m trying to say is…” she said with a small, unwavering smile, “wherever happens, happens. I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words clung to Sakura even after she left the café. They filled her with a warmth she couldn’t remember having for a long time. Knowing that her longest friend had her back and always would. She worried for Ino’s safety, of course, but Ino was smart. Sakura knew she would keep herself safe. And if she did need help, Sakura would be right there. No matter Shikamaru’s opinion of her.
However, her conversation with Ino had left her curious. Back in her condo, Sakura pulled her phone from her pocket. She spun the device slowly between her fingers as she considered her next move. Then she unlocked the screen and dialed out. Itachi answered on the first ring.
“I was just about to call you,” he said.
“Hopefully to tell me that Kisame is back in New York.”
His surprise was evident in his voice. “Yes, actually. How did you know?”
“I have every eye on Akatsuki. I know,” she said, examining her nails.
“Well he has information for us,” he told her, unperturbed by her lack of answer. “We need to meet. Tonight.”
“It’ll have to be somewhere discrete. Somewhere off the grid.”
“Why?”
Sakura didn’t immediately answer as her attention turned away from inspecting her nail polish to the view outside. Below, people hustled by in spring jackets, the morning drizzle likely to give way to afternoon sun.
“Madara knows about us,” she eventually told him.
Itachi was quiet on the other end of the line for a long minute. Then he murmured, “How much danger are you in?”
Not exactly the response she was expecting but it made her smile nonetheless. Just a small upward turn of her lips. “None more than usual.”
Sakura waited as he fell silent again. She could almost hear his thoughts through the line as he decided what he wanted to do. “Do you remember the place we first met? Officially.”
Sakura’s brow furrow as she thought back to all those months ago. Her first thought was Israel, but back then he had been undercover in another agency’s uniform. Then she recalled that night at the club. How he had been alone in that upstairs balcony. She had bought them both shots if she recalled correctly and he had introduced himself in that utterly sexy, black button-down shirt.
“I remember,” she said.
“Meet me there at midnight.”
“Midnight it is. And Itachi,” she said before he could hang up. “Wear that black shirt again.”
Then Sakura ended the call. There was a brazen smirk on her face as she pressed the edge of her phone to the underside of her chin. Even without him standing before her, she could see the surprise that would be written on his face before it gave way to a soft smirk. It was one of her favorite expressions.
Then she chased the thought away. She needed to focus. Because she didn’t doubt Madara still had a tail on her that she would need to shake if things were to go well tonight. And she wouldn’t be going in alone.
xx
Just before midnight, Sakura arrived in Lower Manhattan. Ino was already there dressed in a sparkling blue dress and a pair of stiletto heels. She gave Sakura a onceover as they met on the third floor of an underground parking garage a few blocks away. The blonde took in her black, lacy dress. It wasn’t Sakura’s favorite but it hid the gun in her skirt and the one along her ribs well.
“You partying or working business?” Ino asked, her tone vaguely teasing.
Sakura answered with a smirk as she spun once, making the skirt of her dress flare. “Have to dress the part, don’t I? How do I look?”
“Like you could be here to seduce or kill someone. I honestly don’t know,” she answered, making Sakura laugh. Then she sobered some. “I swear, Madara has an obsession with you if he’s been following you for over six months now.”
“I think it’s closer to eight at this point,” Sakura said unperturbed. “It’s getting a little annoying. I had to drop my car off across town and hitch another one just to lose my tail.”
A frown crossed Ino’s face upon hearing that. “You think this is a good idea then?”
“Probably not, but I have business I have to discuss tonight. Are we ready?”
Ino nodded. “I talked to Choji earlier. He roped off the upstairs for you. Nothing too noticeable, but it should give you enough cover to do whatever you need to do. Just try not to shoot anyone. I don’t think he’ll welcome me back if I cause him any trouble.”
“This should be a friendly meeting,” Sakura told her. “Any shooting wouldn’t be by me.”
“Well…” the blonde shrugged, “we both know how trouble likes to find you.”
Sakura couldn’t disagree with that. But then again, she supposed that’s what happens when someone does what she does for a living.
“Alright, we should get going,” Sakura said with a glance at her phone. “I want you to watch the front door. Text me if anyone comes in that even looks remotely out of the ordinary. I don’t think this meeting will take too long. I’ll text you when we’re on our way down.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to wait for you afterwards?” Ino asked.
Sakura shook her head. “No. If someone is watching, I want us to leave separately. But don’t worry. Kakashi is around.”
With that said, the women left the parking garage to head towards the club. It was just as Sakura remembered with its tall windows and flashing neon lights. Deep bass spilled out onto the street and throbbed beneath their feet as they approached.
Choji greeted them at the door. Ino pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek and murmured something in his ear before he let them pass. He gave Sakura a vague warning look as she stepped past the entrance door. Not so much a threat but more of a plea for her not to start any trouble for him. She smiled comfortingly before she followed after the blonde.
Side-by-side, Ino and Sakura descended the staircase into the club. At the bottom, it opened up into a large room where guys and girls dressed to party weaved through each other. The dancefloor was already packed, as were the bathrooms and the bar, both with lines a few people deep.
Neither Sakura nor Ino could hear one another over the heavy beats or the hundreds of voices already talk-yelling over the music. But they didn’t need to. Ino glanced at Sakura to which she nodded. Then they went their separate ways.
In the back, Sakura found the staircase that led to the second floor. The door was shut with a bouncer a few feet away, but he said nothing as Sakura approached. Only opened the door for her without a word.
As soon as the door closed again behind her, the music dulled. She could still feel the heavy bass pounding through her chest and under her heels, but it was muted enough that she could talk without shouting to be heard. Or eavesdropped on. Exactly what she needed.
To her surprise, the upstairs room was empty. Neither Kisame nor Itachi were there yet. Which was a little surprising since the latter was usually the first to arrive.
Nevertheless, Sakura did a single circle about the room. She paused briefly at the railing that overlooked the rest of the club, her khol-rimmed eyes scanning the faces below carefully. None were familiar to her, nor did any have wandering eyes.
She checked her phone again. There was nothing from Itachi. Nor was there any news from Kakashi, whom was perched somewhere nearby. Her silent and deadly eyes.
There was nothing left for her to do but wait. And so she lowered herself into one of the plush chairs and did just that.
Sakura didn’t have to sit long before she heard the door downstairs open, followed by light footsteps on the steps. Even without glancing over her shoulder, she knew it was Itachi. She would recognize his footfalls anywhere and against her will, a small smile spread across her lips.
“Hello, darling.”
He stopped behind her before he braced his hands on either side of the armchair to lean over her. “Hi,” he murmured in her ear.
The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine and automatically heat began to pool low in her stomach. She gave away none of this though as she peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. “You’re late.”
“It is twelve o'clock exactly. I am perfectly on time,” he told her.
Even with the music in the background, she could hear the smugness in his voice. She shot him an unamused look. “You think you’re so hot.”
“I am hot or need I remind you again?”
Sakura turned her head fully to regard him, her expression torn between being unimpressed and amused, but before she could answer, another spoke behind them. “Are you two going to flirt all night or can we do what we came here for?”
Kisame’s voice boomed over the music. Itachi froze for one moment before he straightened and stepped away from her.
Sakura couldn’t resist her smile as the Israeli Agent joined them. She made a point of looking him over as he stepped further into the room, taking in his jeans and dark blue, button up shirt. “Don’t despair, Kisame. You’re hot too.”
She ignored Itachi’s gaze as Kisame sent her a flat look. Her smile stuck as the men joined her. Itachi took the chair closest to her while Kisame grabbed one nearby and dragged in closer. Only once they were all settled did Itachi speak, his earlier playfulness gone and replaced with only business.
“You said you had something for us. Something important.”
Kisame nodded. And got straight to the point. “Akatsuki’s shipped. Everything’s on its way here.”
Like clouds rolling in over a summer sun, Sakura’s entire mood changed. She shifted in her seat, sitting up a littler straighter. Nothing but business on her mind. “When?”
“It’ll be here in four days’ time.”
“That is not a lot of time to plan,” Itachi said.
Kisame merely shrugged. “That’s all the notice I have to give.”
“It takes over a week for a cargo ship to cross the Atlantic. Why are we just hearing of this now?”
“Because that’s all I was told. They’re delivering guns, money, drugs to a warehouse in Southern New York. It’ll be the biggest shipment they’ve sent here in years,” he told them all, his expression just as solemn as both Sakura and Itachi’s. “Enough to take control over the Underground. Enough for them to fully take root in America permanently.”
Sakura didn’t outwardly react to that as she sat back in her chair. Her mind was reeling, already racing through what needed to be done if she had any hope, any chance of overthrowing Madara and Akatsuki.
“How did you hear of this?” Itachi asked, continuing the conversation.
“Pein told us,” Kisame replied. “He’s ordering all members of Akatsuki not tied up in Egypt to relocate to America.”
“Not Madara?”
Kisame exhaled through his nose slowly. “We already had this conversation, Itachi. I didn’t know of Madara’s involvement in Akatsuki. As far as I’m aware, I’m the only one who knows he’s the true leader. And that is only because you told me.”
Itachi frowned in reply but Sakura spoke before he could continue, “Where?”
Kisame turned to her, his confusion evident. “Where what?”
“You said Akatsuki was delivering the shipment to the south,” she repeated slowly. “Where in the south, exactly?”
“To a warehouse in Brooklyn just east of Borough Park,” the Israeli Agent told them. “That’s where Pein has had it ordered to.”
Itachi’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t there an Army base just south of there?”
Kisame nodded. “He figured the military wouldn’t think to look for it under their noses.”
“He’s smart,” Sakura said with a small smile.
“Incredibly,” Kisame agreed reluctantly, his gaze lingering on her. “Which means that you two need to come up with a plan to intercept the shipment. That warehouse is heavily guarded and even more heavily armed. It’ll take next to an army to bring it down.”
“Or me.”
Both Kisame and Itachi looked at her when she spoke. She couldn’t help her growing smirk as she told them, “I took over that warehouse nearly a week ago. It’s been under my control ever since.”
Kisame stared at her a long moment before he gave an unamused laugh. “That’s not possible.”
In the other chair, understanding dawned on Itachi’s face. “That’s the other warehouse.”
Sakura smiled while Kisame frowned. “There’s no way you could have taken down all those men without drawing some attention. And even if you did, Pein would know it’s not his men manning it any longer.”
“Because of the cloud?”
Itachi’s eyes narrowed upon her question. “What cloud?”
When Kisame remained silent, Sakura answered, her gaze not wavering from Kisame’s. “All Akatsuki members have a tattoo. A red cloud outlined in black ink. Even you have one.”
Sakura didn’t have to look to know she would find one of the inside of Kisame’s wrist. It was the same one she had seen on the men guarding the warehouses during her two raids. She hadn’t known at the time what they were, but Temari had. A mark of loyalty towards Akatsuki.
Kisame stared at her for a long time. His eyes pinning her in place as he took her all in. Then he smiled. “You’re good, little viper.”
Sakura said nothing, but she a faint, arrogant smile passed her lips before her attention turned to Itachi when he sighed. “Even with the warehouse under your control, Akatsuki’s going to be bringing in more muscle,” he said. “You are not going to be able to handle all the incoming men and product yourself.”
“Then what do you suggest?” she asked.
Itachi merely shook his head, his expression thoughtful but a little uncertain. Like a half-formed thought was brewing in his mind. “I am not sure yet,” he added, his tone a little distant. “I need to make a call.”
Without another word, Itachi stood and made his way towards the stairs, phone in hand.
Sakura watched him leave, her gaze tracking his movements until he was out of sight. Once he was gone, she turned back to Kisame. Only to find he was already watching her. She cocked her brow. “What?”
“Itachi is right,” he told her. “Even with your men occupying the warehouse, it won’t be enough. Pein is bringing dozens upon dozens of men. Unless you get more, you and all of them will be killed.”
They both knew he was right, but Sakura simply smiled. She refused to show weaknesses, even if they were loosely on the same side. “I didn’t think you cared so much about me,” she teased.
“You just need to be prepared. I can’t risk getting caught by helping you. You and Itachi are on your own, little viper.”
“It’s Tsunade,” Sakura corrected, her mouth suddenly unsmiling.
“But you’re not Tsunade, are you?” he challenged, his voice quiet but not quite threatening. “Because Tsunade should be in her forties and you don’t look a day over thirty.”
Sakura didn’t immediately reply as she studied him. She tried to gauge his thoughts, but his expression was unreadable as the flashing lights above the dancefloor flickered across his profile.
It was at that moment that she realized how long Kisame had been tracking her. Tracking the real Tsunade. Likely since she had come into the Underground twenty-some years ago. Sakura suspected that if he didn’t need her help with Akatsuki now, he would probably be working to bring her down. And who’s to say he wasn’t still going to do that anyway.
It was only Itachi’s return that saved them from forever sitting in that moment, stuck in time. He paused, glancing from Sakura to Kisame and back again. “Did I miss something?” he asked.
Without tearing her gaze away, Sakura shook her head. “No. We’re done here.”
Kisame left without another word after that. Sakura continued to sit for a few more minutes, her gaze staring without seeing out past the railing where she could just see the DJ on stage below. Her mind spun as quickly as the music below them, the quick bass and house beats as rapid and interwoven as her thoughts.
It was Itachi that broke through all of that, his voice nudging her back to reality. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing tonight,” she said with a long sigh. When Itachi shot her a look of confusion, she explained, “I need to figure out what I’m going to do first. I can’t make a play until I count my pieces.”
And she needed rest before that. With waking up early to talk with Hashirama and staying up late to meet with him and Kisame, she’d had a long day. Only made more stressful by the fact that she only had a few days to act before Akatsuki would have nearly an entire army to take control of New York. It wasn’t exactly as much warning as she had been hoping for, but she reasoned that she had been planning for this for a while now. She had everything she needed. She just needed to set the pieces into motion.
“Are you ready?”
His question made Sakura stop and look up at him. It took her a second to realize that he wasn’t talking about Akatsuki. He meant right now. For some reason that made the stress in her shoulders fade and she couldn’t resist the small smile that curled in the corners of her mouth.
“Yeah.”
After sending Ino a quick text that they were heading down, Sakura followed Itachi down the stairs and back into the main room. Ino was already gone. Sakura let him take her hand and lead her through the crowd towards the far side of the club.
They made their exit through a side door. It dropped them out into the alley beside the building, the music only a faint throb compared to the pounding noise inside. It didn’t escape Sakura’s notice that Itachi didn’t drop her hand but she didn’t complain. Simply leaned closer to steal some of his heat as they walked through the night.
“I can hear you thinking,” Itachi murmured after a few minutes of quiet.
Sakura inhaled deeply before she let out a long, slow sigh. “I’m just thinking about what Kisame said.”
“He said a lot. What part?”
“Honestly, all of it,” she told him. “But mostly the part where he said he didn’t think we could take out Pein.”
Itachi glanced down at her from where she was still leaning into his side. “You think he’s right?”
“I do to a certain extent.” When she continued to feel Itachi’s gaze, she looked up at him. “He’s right that if Pein gets here before we move, we’re screwed. Akatsuki has more guns, more men, more resources than we do.”
“But you have the Underground,” he countered.
Sakura simply shook her head. “I have friends of friends and favors. But the Underground isn’t mine to control. It’s divided amongst a lot of players. I only hold power in one small part.”
Itachi didn’t immediately reply to that as they continued walking. Their footsteps echoing against the sidewalk as they slowly made their way. They passed another club, one with people still lingering out on the sidewalk, most drunk and stumbling down the street in pairs or groups.
“What if the CIA helped?” Itachi asked after a minute.
His question was so out of the blue, so unexpected that Sakura stopped abruptly. Itachi paused as well when she slipped out of his grasp. In the semi-darkness, she tried to read his expression. When she found only open honesty, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
“You said they wouldn’t help.”
“I said they would not unless they were sure they could corner Madara.”
“But we don’t know that Madara will be there,” she countered.
Itachi shrugged. “What if the information hinted that he would be?”
Sakura stared, only one step below openly gawking. She opened her mouth only to close it once and then twice as his words registered. She didn’t know if he actually believed that he could capture Madara or if he was willing to knowingly lie to his agency to get her manpower. He was willing to risk…perhaps everything and it was that fact that left her a little speechless.
Sakura opened her mouth again, but before she could speak the screech of tires pierced the night air. They both looked up in time to see a black car with its headlights blacked out screamed down the street towards them. Then the unmistakable pop of gunfire filled the air.
The sun wasn’t quiet up yet when Sakura got a text. It was only because she was wide awake, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling that she even heard the soft chime of the notification.
Rolling over, she did her best not to wake the figure beside her as she reached for her phone. Itachi barely stirred, just readjusted his grip around her waist before he settled again.
To her surprise, Sakura found the message was from Tobirama. She wondered if he was up early or just hadn’t gone to bed yet. Likely the latter, but her mind didn’t linger on it as she read his message. All it contained was a time and location. A habit she suspected he had picked up from her.
Pulling up Google maps, Sakura punched in the address only to frown when it came back to a nice restaurant. A five-star bar and grill on the water. She didn’t know what would make him want to meet there, but she found her gaze automatically falling to Itachi.
His hair was splayed over the pillow beside her, a stray strand resting against his cheekbone. His breath came out in deep, even exhales as he slept, his gentle warmth tempting her to curl into him and try to catch a few more minutes of rest herself.
Sakura tried to remember how many nights he had been there now. Three, four, five? She couldn’t recall. And it wasn’t that fact that bothered her. But rather the part that she didn’t mind he kept showing up. He made her happy. Truly, honestly happy.
So why couldn’t she just let herself enjoy it?
She knew the answer before she had even fully asked the question. Because people like her couldn’t afford to be. That’s when mistakes were made, irrational thoughts were given and decisions that could cost her her life were chosen.
Turning back to her phone, Sakura told Tobirama she would be there. She set the device back down on the nightstand after that and moved to slip out of bed when Itachi stirred. His arm tightened around her middle before he dragged her back.
“Don’t go,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
Sakura felt her worries wash away in an instant. “I was just going to get some water.”
He replied by pulling her closer.
Laughing softly, she turned in his grasp until she could look up at him. His hair was mussed from sleep and falling in his eyes but there was a lazy smile on his face as he gazed down at her. Reaching up, she brushed his hair back before her fingertips traced his jawline. His day-old stubble scraped against her palm.
“I’m not leaving yet,” she told him.
Itachi’s smile widened at that before he bent his head to kiss her. Sakura relaxed into it immediately. Her arms slipped around his shoulders and her legs tangled with his as he rolled her onto her back, his weight pressing her into the mattress.
She welcomed him between her legs, already feeling his hardening length against the inside of her thigh, but Itachi made no move to slip inside her. Instead, he kept kissing her, his mouth peppering light touches to her face and neck and shoulders. He pulled back once he reached her collarbone but said nothing. Simply gazed down at her, his fingers sweeping a stray hair from her brow.
There was so much emotion behind the action and in his dark eyes. Like he wasn’t looking at her but rather within her. It made her mouth go dry and her heart pound a little harder behind her ribs. Something swelled in her chest. She knew its name but she didn’t say it.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” she whispered.
Itachi’s gaze didn’t waver. “Why not?”
Sakura opened her mouth but nothing came out. She suddenly felt weighed down. Like his affections and attentions were more of a burden than a gift. A choice between feeling alive and remaining alive. She couldn’t ever remember a time she had felt more conflicted in her life.
“Because you can’t love me,” she finally murmured.
“Can’t or shouldn’t?”
“Does it matter?”
The warmth in Itachi’s gaze faded then. As if her concerns had suddenly fallen upon him as well. His expression became so melancholy, so dejected that Sakura nearly took the words back. Nearly said all that she had been trying to bury for who knew how long now.
“Fine,” Itachi murmured before she could speak. The sad look left his face as he met her gaze again. “I won’t tell you then. I will just show you.”
And he did. He kissed her thoroughly, leaving no question between them of his affections. Tears nearly sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back fiercely, giving into the pleasure instead when Itachi reached between her legs. A low moan passed her lips as he spread her wetness before he pushed his fingers inside.
Sakura rolled her hips up against his palm, only to make a noise of complaint when he pulled away much too soon. But that protest quickly faded when he replaced his hand with something bigger and harder.
This time, when Itachi moved it was unhurriedly. His mouth lingered an inch above her own, watching every expression pass over her face as he hilted himself inside her with slow, deep thrusts. No matter how much she tried to coax him into speeding up, he kept his pace, pressing lingering kisses to her jaw and lips while his hands traced every inch of skin.
Sakura arched under him. She felt whole and yet needing something more at the same time. Balanced on the edge, so close to tumbling over but not quite able to make it. She clawed at his shoulders and had the thought of just rolling them over and riding herself to climax when Itachi pinned her hands beside her head.
“Don’t even think about it,” he murmured, his voice soft. A complete juxtaposition to the firm grip he had on her wrists.
A noise sounded in Sakura’s throat. Something between a whine and a growl. “I’m so close. I can’t…”
“All you have to do is ask.”
She raised her eyes to his. She had half-expected his expression to be arrogant and dominating. Instead, all she saw was tenderness and adoration softening his dark, obsidian gaze. The word tumbled from her lips.
“Please…”
Releasing his grip on her wrist, Itachi bent down to seal his mouth with hers. At the same time, he reached between them, his thumb pressing against the small bundle of nerves above her entrance. She ripped her lips away to cry out, her hips rising to meet his as her entire world exploded.
When Sakura finally came back down, Itachi was just finishing. He still above her, his forehead pressed into her shoulder as he fought for breath. She raised her hands to his back, his skin wet and sticky with sweat, but she didn’t mind as she held him against her.
“Don’t go,” Itachi murmured into her skin.
It was the same words he had whispered this morning. Only now they felt different. Opening her eyes, Sakura turned her head until she could look at him. He stared back almost shyly. Like a young boy asking his mother for permission.
Against her better judgement, she gave in. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They stayed in bed into the afternoon and beyond, only getting up to get the pizza they’d had delivered to the door. It was well into the evening before Sakura finally kicked the sheets back and got into the shower. She was utterly unsurprised when Itachi joined her.
After countless rounds, neither of them had the energy for another. They simply washed and stood under the spray as they enjoyed the other’s company. But Sakura had something to do. And she suspected Tobirama would be pissed if she didn’t show up.
As if sensing this, Itachi left fairly quickly after drying off. He didn’t say a word as he dressed himself. Only pausing in the bathroom doorway to watch her as she applied her makeup. She paused when she caught him staring, but he only entered the room to kiss her bare shoulder beside her bra strap. No words were exchanged between them. Only a gentle caress along her lower back before he left.
It wasn’t until the door had long closed behind him that his words echoed again in her head: “I won’t tell you then. I will just show you.”
That memory lingered in her head until she left her condo. Dressed in black, lacy dress and a pair of strappy heels, Sakura headed downtown to the address Tobirama had texted her.
He was already there when she arrived, seated at the bar and looking utterly stunning in a tailored black suit. He glanced over at her when she slipped into the tall barstool beside him. He looked like he had something to say, but decided against it before he grabbed the lemon drop beside his whiskey and pushed it across the counter towards her.
“Thanks,” she said before she took a long sip.
If he noticed, he said nothing. Merely drank from his own glass.
It wasn’t until they had both finished their first drinks and were waiting on their second round that Sakura finally turned in her chair. “So, you going to tell me what you want? Or did you drag me across the city just to see me in my finest dress?”
Tobirama eyed her for a long moment, his gaze raking up her form once and his expression flat. Say for the small tug in the corner of his mouth. “That’s not your finest dress. And no, that’s not why I asked you here.”
When Sakura simply stared patiently at him, he explained, “You have the most guns in the city and I have the most men. Currently, we are Madara’s biggest threat. I chose an upscale restaurant because it would be busy and full of rich nobodies with bodyguards. It would not only be difficult for Madara to kill us but detrimental. The last thing he needs is the entire New York City police force, the FBI and possibly the CIA on his ass.”
Upon the word ‘CIA’ Sakura felt herself still but she forced herself to relax. She had to hand it to Tobirama: it was smart of him to choose such a public place for them to meet. But she didn’t speak until the bartender dropped off their drinks and made himself busy once more before speaking, “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into this meeting, so tell me what you wanted to discuss.”
“I want to discuss you,” he told her, his tone casual but firm and full of no-nonsense. This was a strictly business meeting. “You hit Akatsuki last week. Hard. My brother tells me he’s been supplying you with more money and more contacts, but you’re also going to need more men. I’m offering you, officially, my help.”
“And why would you do that?” she asked over the rim of her sugared martini glass. Disbelief and skepticism colored her tone.
Tobirama looked at her then. He seemed to actually look at her as a small frown settled in the corners of his mouth. “I think you’re under the pretense that I hate you, Sakura. I don’t. Frustrated, maybe. Annoyed, yes. But I’m not so insecure as to resent you for walking away.”
For some reason that struck something with her. A faint smile crossed her lips but she hid it behind her drink. When she lowered her glass back down, it was gone, and she turned in her chair to face Tobirama, one leg crossed over the other. “Tell me what you’re willing to give. And tell me what you want in return.”
“Three dozen men. And the promise that when all of this is over, Izuna will be one of the dead,” he said without pause.
This time Sakura let him see her smile. “I don’t need three dozen men to promise you that.”
“Then take them anyway.”
She cocked her brow in surprise but decided against questioning Tobirama further. He was being uncharacteristically generous and she didn’t want him to feel offended if she pressed any more. Instead, she nodded her appreciation and turned the conversation to lighter things before a waiter came by and asked if they would like to order dinner.
To Sakura’s surprise, she found that she actually enjoyed talking to Tobirama. He was a good storyteller and his voice had a faint, gravelly tone to it that was nice to listen to. Their conversation remained light until he finished his steak and sank back against the high-backed stools with a soft sigh.
“Do you really think you can beat Madara?” he asked.
Sakura stabbed another piece of lettuce out of her spring salad as she gave a soft of quiet humor. “Why do people keep asking me that?”
“Because Madara is crazy.”
“And you don’t think I am?” she returned.
Tobirama shot her a brief flash of amusement. “You are. But he is on his own level.”
The corner of Sakura’s mouth turned up but it quickly waned as she spun her fork slowly between her fingers.
A dark road, splattered with blood and lined with bullet casings, lay ahead for her. She wasn’t quite sure what would become of her when all of this was over but she knew she needed to take Madara down. Even if it was with her.
“I won’t lie: it’ll probably be the hardest thing I’ve done,” she eventually murmured.
“It’ll be the hardest thing most of us have done,” Tobirama said. Then his eyes flickered towards her. “What will you do afterwards?”
“Assuming I make it out alive? I’m not sure,” she replied.
But even as the words came out of her mouth, the image of Itachi from this morning came to mind. Asleep on her pillow, under her sheets, in her bed. How he seemed to just belong there. How even as he asked her to stay, she knew she would. If only it meant being with him for another few minutes.
Then Sakura blinked, chasing those thoughts from her mind. “What about you?” she asked.
Tobirama shrugged as he sipped his whiskey. “I’ll probably stay here with my brother. There will always be another Madara. Someone will always be challenging our territory. And it’s not as if I have anyone else.”
That made her frown. She stared at him as he drained the rest of his drink, barely blinking as the waiter returned to clear their dishes. “It never would have worked out between us, Tobirama.”
He turned his head to return her frown with one of his own. “That wasn’t what I was implying. But you’re right, it wouldn’t have. We’re not good for each other.”
He stood before Sakura could reply. She simply watched as he straightened the cuffs of his tailored suit before he turned to leave, only casting back over his shoulder, “I’ll make sure my men are ready to go by tomorrow.”
Then he was gone.
It was only after he had left that Sakura realized he had stuck her with the bill. But rather than become annoyed, she couldn’t help but laugh softly. He was exactly the same as when they had first met. And for some reason that relieved her.
That smile lingered on Sakura’s lips as she finished her martini. She ordered another and sipped it unhurriedly as her thoughts wandered. A nice moment alone.
But those never lasted long.
Sakura blinked herself out of her thoughts as someone slipped into the seat beside her where Tobirama had been some minutes ago. Her gaze unconsciously flickered to them – just a cursory glance – only to still when she recognized the man beside her.
Automatically her entire body went ridged. Her breath caught in her throat and the fingers grasping the stem of her martini tensed until she thought she might break the delicate glass.
“Madara.” She forced his name out as calmly as she could muster. Her tone a pretty flower encased in ice.
“Sakura,” he returned. Unlike her, he gave off no hostility. As if they were old friends having a drink together. “Such an elegant restaurant to be dining alone. Mind if I join you.”
It wasn’t a question or even a demand. It was more like a statement. That he was telling her he wanted to speak with her. And he would make her listen whether she wanted to or not.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and it took all of her self-control not to reach for the weapon stored in her clutch. Instead, she raked her eyes down his form, noting that he looked like he always did: calm and unperturbed. But Sakura knew that underneath all of that, he was just biding his time until he could get away with killing her.
Still, she couldn’t resist pressing him. She blamed it on her unhealthy addiction to adrenaline. “Nice suit. Your best ones at the dry cleaners?”
Madara look at her then. His face utterly blank before the corner of his mouth curled in humorless amusement. “I see your attitude has not improved much.”
Her eyes narrowed in response. “What do you want?”
“Nothing. Rather I have something for you that I believe you will find of interest.”
Sakura sincerely doubted that.
When she didn’t give any reaction, Madara took that as his cue to continue. He pulled an envelope out from the inside of his suit jacket and passed it across the counter towards her.
Distrustful, Sakura didn’t reach for it. She didn’t put it past the man to have some type of poison awaiting her inside. But Madara’s expression was a perfect mask. Cool indifference while he waited for her patiently. Biting back her sigh, she grabbed her napkin and carefully slid the contents out onto the counter.
Inside, there were half a dozen photos. They were of her and Itachi. That night they had eaten at that little diner together in Egypt after meeting with Temari. She flipped through them slowly, each one making her heart beat in her chest just a little harder. The photos themselves were in black and white but clear enough to see they were sharing a plate of nachos. Too intimate to feign simple or new acquaintances.
“I see there is more than one team you play for here. I wonder what Hashirama might think when he learns that you are associating with a CIA Agent,” Madara said. For once something colored his tone. Haughtiness, perhaps. When Sakura just stared back blankly, he added, “You appear rather close, do you not?”
Sakura didn’t immediately reply as she shuffled through the photos again, needing another moment to think. Another moment to decide her next move. They both knew she was caught. The question was would she admit it? Or would she not?
Obviously not.
“CIA?” Sakura repeated slowly. “Surely, you must be confused. Because that looks like the dinner I shared with Izuna.”
It was fortunate these photos were taken of Itachi from the back. And that the Uchiha genes were so strong. From behind, the distant cousins looked like twins. She just might be able to get away with this one.
Madara was already watching her when Sakura looked up. They both knew that unicorns were more likely to exist than there ever being a day that she and Izuna would share an intimate meal together, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make Hashirama believe that.
She didn’t have to look into it to know that Izuna had been in Egypt the same time as her too. Hell, he had probably been the one to take the photos. Because as powerful and dangerous as these men were, they were also something else: predictable.
“Izuna can be such a sweetheart when he wants to be,” Sakura continued with a fake, sweet smile.
Madara’s expression remained carefully composed, even as she pushed his photos back towards him. “You cannot expect me to believe such a blatant lie.”
“You? No. Hashirama, yes,” she said. “Because even you know that he is further outside the loop than he should be given current circumstances.”
There was a small pinch to Madara’s expression that Sakura would have missed had she blinked. Then he repocketed the photos and it was gone.
“The CIA is not someone you can befriend,” he told her. A warning? Or perhaps a threat?
Sakura shrugged as she took another small sip from her drink. “Perhaps not. But then again, I haven’t sold their information to the Chinese.”
“But you do trade.”
“Only small time. And next to you, I’m not even a blip on their radar.”
“For now,” he agreed. “But I am not Hashirama. I am not so blind as to not see the shifts happening in the Underground.”
She couldn’t resist her smile. “And here I thought you were just another handsome face.”
Madara’s eyes tracked her as she grabbed her clutch and pulled a handful of bills from inside. Enough to cover her and Tobirama’s tab plus a generous tip. Then she stood with a parting smile. “Give Izuna my regards.”
She could feel Madara’s gaze burning a hole into her back as she walked away. She made her way towards the kitchen, pretending to go out the back. Only to slip into the bathroom the instant she rounded the corner.
Inside, she called Kakashi. She had him pick her up at the side door, half-suspicious, half-expecting Madara to have eyes on the front and back doors. Laying in wait for her.
Fifteen minutes later, Sakura was safely in the passenger seat of Kakashi’s car. Her own still lingering in the lot. She’d send Ino or someone later to collect it. When she was sure Madara was no longer interested in watching it.
“So, Madara knows that you’re working with the CIA,” Kakashi said when she filled him in on what had happened. “That isn’t good information for him to have.”
“No,” she agreed. “But I was able to cover for myself this time.”
“And what about the next?”
“We’ll just have to be more careful in the future,” she eventually said.
He didn’t say anything but the long sigh out his nose was enough to tell her that he wanted her to end her relationship with Itachi and the CIA. She knew Kakashi didn’t agree with her working with them. It was dangerous. Especially now that Madara knew. This was just another tally in Kakashi’s long list of reasons why she shouldn’t be operating with the agency. It could make everything she was working towards blow up in her face.
At the next intersection, Kakashi rolled to a stop as he waited for a red light. “Sakura, I don’t want to tell you what to do. You’ve proved time and time again that you’re smart and capable of handling your own, but what you have going with the CIA is risky. Way riskier than you should be taking with everything going on with Hashirama and Akatsuki and the Underground.”
“I know,” Sakura murmured. Because she knew he was right.
“Then break it off.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” he asked.
Sakura’s inability to look him in the eye seemed to make the answer dawn on him. His eyes widened.
“Oh, my god. You’re sleeping with him.”
The light turned green then but Kakashi didn’t seem to notice as he shifted in his seat to look at her. Even without looking, she could feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of her head.
“Sakura, what the hell are you thinking? Tobirama was one thing, but a CIA agent? Are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped, finally drawing her gaze from out the window to glare back at him. “You gave up your military, your country, everything to stay with me. How am what I’m doing any different than what you did?”
“Because I didn’t have sex with you!”
His retort echoed inside the interior of the car before giving way to silence. She looked away again, suddenly feeling small beside him. Something cold and lonely settled deep within her chest and she wrapped her arms around herself. As if that could protect herself from his stare.
But as quickly as Kakashi’s anger came, it went. “Don’t tell me…” he said quietly, his voice so soft compared to only a minute ago. “You actually have feelings for him.”
She let out a small, exasperated sigh. “I’m not in love with him.”
“I think you are.”
This time when she met Kakashi’s gaze, there was only gentle sympathy reflecting in his mismatched eyes. He looked as hopeless as she felt.
Neither of them spoke again as a car horn sounded behind them. Kakashi returned his attention to the road and drove the rest of the way to her closest apartment. It was nothing special. Just a little place in the middle of town that was convenient.
It wasn’t until he pulled into the underground garage and she had unbuckled her seatbelt that he spoke again. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do here,” he told her gently. “I’ve given you my opinion, but it’s up to you to decide if the risk is worth the cost. Just whatever you do, be careful. And call me if you need me. The CIA isn’t someone you can take advantage of. Believe me when I tell you that.”
Gratitude filled her, but she still couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She simply nodded before she slipped out of the car and made her way upstairs. It was only much later, after she had showered and was laying under the sheets, that she realized her bed had never felt so big before.
The next week was a whirlwind of activity. The days blended together. Just a constant shuffle of gathering stores and distributing them out. Sakura met with Tenten a dozen times. Planning, organizing, arranging.
Just as Sakura had expected, Tenten’s first raid had gone off without a hitch. One, large warehouse on the southwest had been taken out and burned to the ground. Sakura had sat on the edge of her bed and watched on the television as the fire trucks tried to contain the blaze. Her smile had been downright sinister as she watched the embers blow away in the wind.
When Tenten had called the next night, Sakura had only been too willing to offer her more weapons. And her own, personal assistance on the next raid. Just so Sakura could witness firsthand how easily Tenten’s men could slip in and take control. Those that refused to surrender were taken down. And those that did…well, there was a reason Tenten was feared in the Underground. The pile of corpses was going to be difficult to hide.
With her chin propped up with her hand, Sakura watched Lee interrogate the only man they left alive. She sat backwards on a metal folding chair, listening as Lee’s knuckles came down against the man’s face again. He was already bleeding from his mouth and nose.
“Tell us where the other warehouses are,” Lee said. It sounded more like a kind request rather than a harsh demand. Or at least it would have if his knuckles weren’t painted red.
The man merely shook his head. Lee’s fist met his face again.
“Don’t worry. He’ll get an answer eventually. He always does,” Tenten said beside her.
Sakura glanced towards the brunette. She sat across the metal, circular table, her weapon beside the cash she was counting and a cigarette between her teeth.
“I’m not worried,” Sakura said.
Her gaze turned down to her own hand, where the knuckles of her left hand were bruised and slightly scuffed. A small injury in comparison to the man that had tried to turn his weapon on her.
The sound of Lee’s interrogation had Sakura looking up again. She watched him a moment longer before she spoke, “I’m impressed with your abilities. But I have been thinking.”
“About?”
“About these raids. We need to move more carefully. This is the second warehouse we’ve hit in less than a week. If Akatsuki starts to see their territory taken over too fast, we might accidentally press them into an all-out war,” Sakura explained.
Tenten cocked a brow. “Isn’t that what you want though? To take out Akatsuki’s resources so they can’t strike back.”
“Yes,” she nodded her agreement. “But I don’t want them to know that until I want them to.”
Because the last thing she wanted was for Madara to feel threatened and to attack before they were ready. Or worse, disappear completely.
A thoughtful look crossed Tenten’s face as she pulled the cigarette out of the mouth. She blew the smoke into the air, her eyes never leaving Sakura. “So, what do you want to do?”
Sakura’s gaze fell towards Lee again. Only this time she looked past him to where Tenten’s men were dismantling the corpses left in the wake of their raid. They were shoving the bloody parts into plastic bags. Sakura knew they would later fill them with rocks and dump them into the river where they would never be found again.
Sakura turned away after watching for only a moment. Because even after everything she had seen, the sight still made her lose her appetite. “I want you to leave some men here. Make this a shadow warehouse.”
Tenten frowned. “Wouldn’t Akatsuki know it isn’t their men?”
“No,” someone else answered before Sakura could.
Both women turned upon Ino’s approach, her heels echoing across the concrete floor. She drew to a stop beside the table, a smart smile on her blood-red lips.
“No one checks on these warehouses other than to count the number of guns,” Ino said. “As long as the numbers add up, they’ll be fine.”
Tenten stared at her. “And you are?”
“Ino,” Sakura answered for her. “She works for me. She’s my personal eyes and ears in the Underground. If you want any information on anything, she can get it for you.”
The brunette eyed Ino a moment longer before she jerked her chin towards one of the men nearby. He jumped to attention immediately, picking up an extra chair before hurrying over to them. He unfolded it and dusted off the seat before offering it to Ino. The blonde smiled her thanks before she elegantly settled into it.
When Sakura turned back to Tenten, she could see the brunette was still studying Ino. A little curious, a little cautious. Because while Ino didn’t look like much, neither did any of them. They were all young, strong women in a man’s world. And they had to be smarter, sharper. More ruthless to get what they wanted.
When Tenten spoke, the look in her eyes was gone. Still not entirely trustful, but no longer full of judgement. “What have you heard on Akatsuki?” she asked Ino.
“They’re scrambling after the first attack,” she said, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “That last warehouse was their main distribution center and with it out of commission, they’re looking to move their incoming supplies to another facility.”
“Do you think they can move them here?” Sakura asked.
Ino canted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe. If we can get the rumors spreading, we might be able to persuade them to move their store to this warehouse. But we’ll have to move quick.”
“I can organize some men to work here,” Tenten said.
Sakura nodded. “And I can start snooping near the other warehouses to make Akatsuki nervous. I’ll just need their locations first.”
Tenten looked past Sakura as she finished speaking, a smile slowly spreading around the cigarette in her mouth. “I think we just might be able to get that.”
All three women looked towards Lee at that moment. He was leaning over the man he had been interrogating, a pleased smile on his face as the man whispered around the blood in his mouth. When he finished, Lee straightened and pulled his pistol out of his jacket, a single crack echoing through the floor.
“One warehouse down,” Lee said. “Three more to go.”
xx
That night Sakura was sitting at her counter with a slice of pizza in one hand and an icepack over the other when she got a call. It was Hashirama. She stared at his name on the caller ID as she finished chewing before she picked up. “Well, isn’t this a treat. What can I do for you?”
“I hear Akatsuki took a hard hit in the South,” he said without greeting.
Sakura couldn’t help her small huff of amusement, but it quickly turned to a muted hiss when she replaced the cold pack back against her knuckles. “That was three days ago. You’re just calling about that now?”
“I have been preoccupied with other matters that needed my immediate attention, but I wanted to check in,” he told her. “That was a large raid. How are your stores holding?”
“They’re comfortable.”
“I need you more than comfortable when it comes to Madara.”
“Well you are more than welcome to help my supplies,” she said, unperturbed by Hashirama’s hard tone.
“What do you need?”
Surprised, Sakura paused, her hand halfway back inside the pizza box. Then a smile began to form on her lips. “The usual amount, in cash. And two dozen more men. To start.”
They spoke for another half hour before finally hanging up. Even after the call ended, Sakura continued to sit at the counter, a pleased but thoughtful smirk settled deep in the corners of her mouth. Things were going far smoother than she could have ever hoped, especially with Naruto dead. Between Tenten and Ino’s help in the Underground and Hashirama now offering her more supplies, she almost had more weapons and money than she knew what to do with.
With so much power at her back, Madara’s threat seemed almost small. Insignificant. She would just have to make sure it didn’t all go to her head.
Pulling the ice pack off her hand, Sakura stood, about to make her way towards the liquor cabinet, when a knock suddenly sounded on the door.
Instantly on alert, she peered down the hall before she swiped her gun from the table and tiptoed towards the door. With her weapon at the ready, Sakura carefully slid the deadbolt out of place, only for her grip to loosen when she saw Itachi standing on the other side.
Sakura hadn’t been expecting him, but she didn’t turn him away. Merely left the door open as she headed back into the kitchen, depositing her gun back down on the table along the way.
“I didn’t know we were meeting tonight,” she said.
After closing the door, Itachi joined her in the kitchen, unperturbed. “Should I have called?”
Without looking back at him, Sakura retrieved a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. She filled both up and passed one off to him as he joined her at the counter. He was dressed in jeans and a warm but fitting, leather jacket. Casual, yet still so handsome.
Sakura hadn’t exactly been missing him but now that he was here in front of her, she found that she was glad he was. Biting back her smile, she shook her head.
The corner of Itachi’s mouth pulled up, but he said nothing before he tossed back his own shot.
“I just met with Kisame,” he told her as she refilled both their glasses. “He says Akatsuki is gathering a lot of supplies in Egypt. And they’re planning to ship it all to the States. Apparently Pein has finally spread the word to the rest of the members that they plan to expand in New York.”
“Any idea where?”
“Not yet. Especially now that their main warehouse in the South was attacked. I can only assume that was your doing,” he said, shooting her a mild look. One she didn’t understand until she realized she was smirking slightly.
Sakura shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she defended without heart. “I wasn’t even there.”
“But your guns were.”
Sakura met his gaze for a long moment before she looked away to reach for her glass. “What’s your point?”
“My point is you need to be more careful. The CIA recognized your weapons, which means that Madara will have as well,” he told her, his tone one step below chastising.
“It doesn’t matter if Madara knows it’s me anymore. Hashirama is aware Madara has betrayed him. Which means that I don’t have to pretend to be on the same side as Madara. Or Izuna, for that matter.”
She trailed off as she recalled her last meeting with the younger Uchiha brother. It suddenly occurred to her that before they had simply been at odds. Butting heads just to antagonize the other with the hope that the other would slip up enough to be given permission to end the other. Now, they were blatantly on opposite sides. Which meant Sakura needed to be more alert, more watchful for the younger Uchiha brother.
Perhaps Itachi had a point.
Sipping her tequila, Sakura look at Itachi again as he refilled his own shot glass. “Does Kisame know where the ships are going to make port?”
“Not yet,” he shook his head. “But he still has a lot of leads to follow. I think he’ll know more in the next week or so.”
She nodded, but said nothing more as she sipped her drink. She could feel Itachi’s gaze on her, but she didn’t look up until he asked, “What happened to your hand?”
She followed his stare down to her knuckles, where the flesh was still red and swollen. It was fortunate she hadn’t broken the skin knocking that man’s face in during the raid, but her fingers were still sore. Still, she couldn’t help but smile a little as she recalled sitting in the aftermath with Tenten and Ino. The victory was still sweet in her mouth.
When Sakura looked up again, she found Itachi was still watching her. He must have seen something in her expression for his eyes widened minutely. “You found another Akatsuki warehouse. Where?”
Had he been any other person, Sakura wouldn’t have answered, but somehow, she knew she could trust him. That any information she told him would be kept to himself. “A few miles from the last one.”
“I didn’t hear anything about a takedown.”
“We decided to keep it quiet,” she told him. “We didn’t want to push Madara into moving before we’re ready.”
Itachi opened his mouth but nothing came out. He shook his head slowly as an odd look of wonder crossed his expression. “You really are good at this, aren’t you? Buying and trading loyalties, working the Underground.”
She couldn’t help the smile that pulled in the corners of her mouth at his compliment and she hid it behind her shot glass. She took a long sip as she chased the heat from her cheeks before she eventually set it back down on the table, a thoughtful look suddenly coming over her expression.
“You never told me.”
He shook his head, not understanding. “Told you what?”
“How you heard about me. Tsunade. Sakura,” she clarified.
Itachi drained the rest of his own glass before he lowered it back down to the counter. Sakura filled them both again as he answered, “We heard there was someone new in the Underground. A new dealer. One Madara was meeting with.”
“And you found me?”
Itachi nodded before he let out a soft laugh. “To be honest, we didn’t think it was you until we saw you trade rifles with an associate of Izuna’s. You’re one of the best traders I’ve seen. You’re incredibly good at blending in.”
“The advantages of being pretty,” Sakura said with forced amusement.
But Itachi didn’t share it. He shook his head, an unusually serious look on his face. “The advantages of being smart,” he corrected her.
There was something so sincere about his tone that made Sakura still. She raised her gaze to meet his but he only held her stare for a moment before his eyes fell to her lips. He said nothing before he lowered his tequila and closed the distance between them.
His kiss started slow. A mere ghost of his lips over hers as his hands smoothed down her sides until they rested on her hips. Then they slid lower until his palms were on the backs of her thighs. Her hands fell to his shoulders as he hoisted her up and settled her on the counter.
The height change forced Sakura to angle her head down to his for once, but she didn’t complain. Merely tangled her fingers into his silky, black hair as she drew his mouth back up to hers again.
It didn’t take Itachi long to slip his tongue between her lips, his fingers dipping under the hem of her shirt to run across the smooth skin of her stomach. A gasp escaped her when he tickled her, but it quickly turned into a moan when he reached up and twisted his fingers into her hair to tilt her face up so he could press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of her neck. Heat pooled low in her stomach as he touched, kissed and teased her.
Her shirt was the first thing to go, landing somewhere on the counter before his attention turned to the base of her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breast just above her bra. When he finally let the clasp of her bra free, she gasped, trying and failing to muffle her sounds of pleasure when his mouth wrapped around one pebbled nipple.
With one hand on her hip and the other at her back between her shoulder blades, Sakura couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to. She gave into his touch completely, her legs wrapping around his waist to draw him closer. Anything to help alleviate the ache growing between her thighs.
But it was the wrong angle, the wrong position and she bit back her whimper at the lack of friction.
“Itachi…” she said. She hated the way his name came out in a whine.
There was a smug smirk on his lips when he picked his head up to look at her but he merely kissed her again as his fingers went for the button of her jeans. He helped her slide out of them, and then her panties before his hands returned to her waist.
At first, she thought he might help her down so they could move elsewhere, but he simply slid her forward until she was balanced on the edge of the counter, unable to reach the ground. His support the only thing keeping her from falling forward.
There was a wicked look in his eyes. One she didn’t understand until his hands slipped under her knees to pull her thighs further apart. Then he lowered himself onto one of the stools she kept tucked under the island counter and eased her legs down onto his shoulders.
Itachi’s breath ghosted across the inside of her thigh before he nipped at the sensitive skin. Automatically she tried to jerk away, but he wouldn’t let her as he soothed the spot with an open kiss and gentle, sweeping caress of his thumb. He took his time working his way higher and higher, building up her anticipation until she was trembling under his touch.
Sakura couldn’t contain her cry even if she tried when his mouth finally found her center. She fell back, the countertop cold against her flush skin, but she didn’t notice. She merely reached down to twist her fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he tasted her. His tongue lapping at her, sucking and kissing and tasting her until she was squirming beneath him.
With her legs still over his shoulders, she could barely raise her hips to meet him. She pressed her heels into his back, dug her fingers into his scalp, but Itachi moved at his own pace. She was so close, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. And he knew it.
“Tell me what you want,” Itachi said, pulling away just far enough to press sweet kisses to the inside of her thigh.
A low groan escaped her as she tried to bring his mouth back to her, but his grip was unyielding.
“Sakura…”
It took all of her willpower not to whimper. “Don’t stop. Oh Gods, please don’t stop.”
He tsked with disapproval. “That’s what you need. I am asking you what you want.”
“Fuck,” she cried as he slid two fingers deep into her core. Just a slow, smooth pump that stroked her fire but did little else. Sakura snapped. “You! God damnit. Please, I want you!”
With a satisfied smirk, Itachi lowered his mouth back down. This time, he touched her exactly how she wanted, building her higher and higher until she finally came. Her back arched off the counter and her thighs tightened around his shoulders as his name tumbled from her mouth. Itachi didn’t stop until he had pulled every second of her orgasm out of her.
With heaving breaths, Sakura fell back, boneless and shuddering. Carefully he lowered her legs from his shoulders before he stood. She jerked slightly when he pressed a kiss to her stomach and she opened her eyes to find him smirking. A little arrogant, a little proud.
Sakura frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” he shook his head. “You are always so distant. It is just nice to hear you say you want me.”
It took all of her energy to glare and his expression softened into something sweeter. He helped her sit up, her legs still on either side of his clothed hips, before he kissed her slowly. She could taste herself on his lips but she didn’t complain as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.
When she finally pulled back, her expression was downright devilish. “I can show you exactly how much I want you,” she whispered in his ear.
Itachi perked up immediately. He helped her down off the counter onto shaky legs before she pulled him down the hall by the front of his shirt, undoing another button each time she stumbled. He laughed at her but he leaned down to meet her kiss every time she angled her face towards his.
And it occurred to her then as she leaned against the door frame to the bedroom, his hands cupping her face and his mouth sealed to hers, that she had never felt this way in her life. She felt genuinely happy. Exposed. And it had nothing to do with their manner of dress. Like he had opened up her chest and was looking directly at her heart and holding it as tenderly as fragile glass.
Inhaling a shaking breath, Sakura grabbed the open sides of Itachi’s shirt and tugged him the rest of the way into the bedroom. As soon as his shirt was gone, her movements became more hurried. Almost frantic. Like if he didn’t get inside her, she would burst.
Yanking his pants down, Sakura gave Itachi a single, hard shove. He stumbled back onto the bed and she climbed on top of him before he could recover. With one hand on his chest to support her weight, she leaned forward to kiss him, the other reaching back to grasp his heavy length. A low rumble of approval sounded in his chest at her touch, but it was faint in comparison to the groan that escaped him when she finally sank down onto him.
With their faces less than an inch apart she could make out every flicker, every flash of emotion that crossed his face. Arousal, desire, blooming pleasure and something else that made her own body fill with a warmth that had nothing to do with their physical contact. It made her core contract around him reflexively.
Itachi raised his hand to cup her face as their breath mingled, his hooded gaze meeting hers. “If you don’t move, I’m going to make you.”
This time, it was Sakura’s turn to laugh. With a sultry smile, she sat back, causing him to sink inside her deeper and him to groan again. Then she started a smooth, even pace, riding them both to completion.
And even afterwards, she laid on top of him, his softened length still inside her with his fingers trailing down her spine until he began to grow hard again. She allowed Itachi to take over the second time, his hips meeting hers in long, deep thrusts as his hands found hers. Fingers tangling together on either side of her head.
And as Sakura cried out his name again, she pretended that it was only the pleasure she could feel coursing through her body. Making her feel higher than she had ever been before.
Both Sakura and Itachi stilled the instant they heard the deadbolt slide out of place. Then, like a bullet fired from a gun, they were moving. He shoved the documents back into the desk while she slammed the doors shut, hiding any evidence they had ever been there.
The door opened the same second Itachi grabbed her and pushed her back against the wall beside the bookcase, his body pressing flush against hers as they tried not to be seen.
Neither of them dared move as the door closed again with a muted click. Footsteps echoed against the tiles, quiet and slow. Languid, as if they were in no hurry at all. With them hidden out of sight, Sakura couldn’t be sure it was actually Madara who had entered but she didn’t dare risk getting caught to be certain.
Adrenaline screamed through her system. Her heart pounded against her ribs. So hard she wondered if Itachi could feel it. His collarbone was less than an inch from her face, the scent of his cologne filling her nose with every silent breath. His forearms rested above and beside her head, her own hands on his hips, keeping him as close as possible to keep him from sticking out around the side of the bookcase.
They listened with baited breath as whoever it was moved about the kitchen. The jingle of keys as they were set on the counter, the faint shuffle and tearing of paper as mail was sorted and opened.
Silently, Sakura shifted her gaze up to Itachi only to find he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, his gaze was cut towards the kitchen, his concentration visible in his expression. This close, she could make out the little flecks of brown in his dark eyes. Just little slivers she had never noticed before.
With his body caged around her, she could feel every hard ridge of his muscles and the tension weaved into them. His entire form was bunched and tense, pulled as tight as a band. One wrong move away from snapping.
Her own body felt on fire with adrenaline and stress. For months they had been playing with fire and right now, they were the closest they had ever been to being burned. She knew everything would be blown if they were caught. The last thing they needed was a firefight.
A quiet scoff across the room drew Sakura’s attention again in an instant. Under Itachi’s weight, she went utterly rigid, recognizing Madara in the simple sound. It was him. It was then that she realized she had been hoping it was someone else. That whatever documents Itachi had found saying this apartment belonged to Madara were wrong.
Now that she was certainty, a new wave of adrenaline went through her. Sakura told herself to breathe, but even that became difficult when she heard his footsteps cross into the main living room. Right where they were hiding.
Unconsciously, Sakura dug her fingers into Itachi’s hips, drawing him impossibly closer. She ran through the scenarios in her mind. They would only have a split second after Madara caught them to act. With Itachi’s body pinning her in place, she wouldn’t have time to reach for her gun. But she would Itachi’s.
Her fingers twitched. And she was half a second away from drawing his weapon when a phone suddenly rang across the room. Madara’s footsteps faltered. Then he turned and made his way back to the kitchen.
Relief had never swept through Sakura so strongly before. Like a bucket of ice water, it filled her veins, leaving her knees weak and full of jello. She was certain it was only because Itachi was there that she didn’t sink to the floor.
“Yes?” Madara answered, his tone like the surface of a stone. Cold and hard.
The rest of the apartment was silent as Madara listened to whatever was being said on the other end of the line. After a few minutes, he growled softly. “Right now?” Then, “Fine.”
He hung up without saying goodbye before his footsteps disappeared into the bedroom. A minute later, they heard the spray of water as the shower turned on. Only once they heard the glass door of the shower stall close did Itachi peer out behind the bookcase.
They must have been in the clear for he left their makeshift shelter, gesturing for her to follow silently. And together, they slipped out of the apartment, closing the door soundlessly behind them before they all but ran down the hall and out of the complex.
Only once they were back in the car did Sakura dare breathe. She let out a long exhale before she said the first word that came to mind, “Fuck.” She dragged a rough hand through her hair and then said it again, “Fuck! This is so much worst than I had thought. I knew Madara was lying. I knew he still had Akatsuki moving in New York but I had no idea his influence had spread this wide.”
“It is not that bad yet,” Itachi said, his tone not entirely convincing, as if he didn’t entirely believe the words himself. “Madara is still working on his plan. He is still building. We do not have much time but we are not out of it yet.”
Sakura stared at him. She wanted to ask him how he could be so calm, but then she noticed the tension in his shoulders, his tight grip on the wheel. He wouldn’t even look at her. He was just as worried about this as she was.
Taking a deep breath, Sakura forced herself to slow down. “Alright, let’s say that we actually do have some time. We need to move now. Before he can put his plan into place.”
“We don’t even know what that entails though,” Itachi said quietly.
“No,” she agreed. “But if Madara’s intent is to overtake the New York Underground, he’s going to need guns. Lots of them.”
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
Sakura fell quiet as a plan slowly began to form in her head. She didn’t know if it would work – wasn’t even entirely sure it was possible – but it was the best option she could come up with.
“We need to cut off Madara’s supply lines,” she finally said. “Dry him up. I’ll talk to my contacts in the Underground. Now that we know where Akatsuki is, maybe I can try and cause him some trouble in the meantime to slow him down.”
It took a minute but eventually Itachi loosened his firm grip on the steering wheel. “That’s a good idea. I won’t reveal too much information to my company in case Madara has spies in the CIA but perhaps I can break some of his contacts with power. Weaken his protections. And I will see if Kisame is still in the States,” he added. “I need to speak with him again.”
Sakura nodded. It seemed they both agreed they wouldn’t be able to take Madara down outright. They would have to destabilize him at the roots before they could bring his entire network down.
With that still floating through her mind, Sakura pulled her phone out of the inner pocket of her jacket. She unlocked it, but did nothing else. Simply stared at the screen until it darkened again. Her gaze fell somewhere out the window, staring without seeing as the world outside passed by as they maneuvered through the slow, morning rush hour traffic. Her thoughts were a million miles away as she turned her cell phone over in her hand.
“Are we really going to be able to stop him?” Sakura eventually asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Beside her, Itachi was quiet. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m going to try like hell to.”
She glanced towards him at that and caught his eye. It was only for a moment but that simple look put the worst of her troubles at ease. She knew he was right. They were short on time but they weren’t out of it. They would just have to move quickly.
They rode the rest of the way in silence. With Itachi focused on navigating through traffic and Sakura lost in her thoughts, only the roll of the pavement beneath their feet filled the quiet. The lull reminded her she hadn’t slept all night. She was exhausted. Bone-achingly tired. She didn’t even know she had dozed off until she heard a door close nearby.
A few seconds later, another one opened and she felt Itachi unbuckle her seatbelt before he lifted her up into his arms. That’s when she began to stir. “I can walk,” she murmured.
Itachi murmured something but she couldn’t make out the words. Only heard the rumble through his chest.
She didn’t even try to get out of his arms. “M’phone.”
“I have it.”
The next thing she knew she was being laid down on something soft. She let Itachi pull her boots off before she curled up onto her side, her face pressed into a pillow that smelled just like him. And then she was out. Completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
xx
Itachi was still asleep beside Sakura when she woke up later that evening. His arm was curled over her hip, the other stretched out under her pillow. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually she slipped out of his grasp. Only staying long enough to fix her hair and makeup. She paused at the foot of the bed, casting Itachi one last lingering look before she was gone.
Sakura sent Kakashi the images she had taken of Madara’s desk as she walked to her car. She had barely made it out of the neighborhood before he called.
“How the hell did you find all this information?” he asked.
Not the first thing she personally would have asked but she answered him nonetheless, describing her new connection with Tenten and how the woman had pointed her to Madara’s apartment. Sakura purposefully left Madara coming home out of the story. And Itachi. She didn’t need him to know she had literally fallen asleep in his car and his bed afterwards.
When she finished, Kakashi was quiet. Then he sighed. Even through the line, she knew he was running his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t good, Sakura,” he said.
She bit back her own sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
“Well…what do you want to do?”
Sakura didn’t immediately reply. She pulled her car to the curb and stared out the window, only the sound of the windshield wipers activating every few seconds to break up the utter stillness. Then she said, “We still have that store of weapons in the South, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“If we’re going to outsmart Madara, we have to start moving now, and I have an idea. Meet me in Lower Manhattan with a crate tonight.”
Two hours later, Kakashi arrived at the location Sakura had texted. Tenten and Lee were already there. They said nothing as he hopped out of his truck and lowered the tailgate. Only stared with blank expressions and mild suspicion in their eyes.
In the bed of the truck was a single crate. Kakashi used a crowbar to pop the top off before he sat back. Sakura didn’t need to see to know what lay inside. She had packed it herself. Instead, she simply leaned her hip against the tailgate and gestured for Tenten to take a look herself.
The brunette’s eyes widened when she saw it held dozens of handguns and magazines and silencers. “Holy shit. And you want what for these exactly?”
“Nothing,” Sakura said.
Tenten must have sensed something in her tone though for she cocked a skeptical brow. “Nothing?”
“It’s a gift,” Sakura told her, repeating Tenten’s earlier term. When even Lee continued to look doubtful, she added, “I hear that Akatsuki has moved into your territory to the South. Consider this my aid to assist in your plans to reclaim the streets they stole from you.”
Tenten still didn’t react. There were no thanks given as she held Sakura’s gaze, her dark eyes calculating, suspicious. “And what happens when I take my territory back? Are we in the middle of a temporary truce? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“My motives are not so ambitious. I have no interest in a territorial feud,” Sakura said, shrugging off her concerns. “What I do want is Akatsuki run out. Shut down. If you can keep them out of the streets, then consider this only the first shipment of what I can offer you.”
“You must really not like Akatsuki,” she said.
When Sakura said nothing, Tenten turned away to murmur to Lee. They spoke in hushed tones with their heads bent together. In the meantime, Sakura examined her nails, picking the dirt out from under one.
Eventually Tenten turned back. “I’m not sure I fully understand your intentions, but if Akatsuki really is your only goal then it seems we are on the same side after all.”
“Do we have a deal then?”
Tenten nodded. “We have a deal.”
Sakura’s answer was a pleased smile.
They exchanged the goods before they parted ways. Only when they were back on the interstate did Kakashi speak, “You think Tenten will be able to handle Akatsuki?”
“I’m not sure,” Sakura said, her gaze somewhere out the window. Then she looked at him. “But if she’s able to push them out, it’ll tell us how tough she really is.”
“You don’t sound concerned that she’ll turn against you.”
“Of course, I’m always prepared for that,” she told him. “But we have different objectives. Tenten wants her territory back so she can regain her control of the Underground in New York. I want Akatsuki out so I can continue to sell and move product. Our goals don’t conflict with each other. Rather, when Akatsuki is run out, they will run parallel.”
Kakashi made a noncommittal noise just as Sakura’s phone pinged. She eyed him, wondering what doubts he still had but didn’t ask as she pulled up her new message.
“We can talk more later,” she said, after finally looking down at her phone. “Hashirama wants to meet.”
“When?”
“Now.”
xx
The address Hashirama texted Sakura was to a restaurant overlooking the East River. It was on the fifth story of a tall building along the water’s edge and took up the entire floor. With its wooden ceiling and exposed, rustic lightbulbs, it was obviously an establishment that catered to those looking to spend money on a meaningful meal.
On a Thursday night, Sakura had expected every table to be full with a wait at the door and standing room only at the bar. What she found instead were two bodyguards perched on either side of the entrance just outside the elevator. They were dressed in pressed suits and stood like gargoyles. Not even acknowledging her as she passed.
Inside were two more guards. They stood only a few yards from the table Hashirama occupied. Close enough to do their jobs if needed, but far enough away to provide some privacy. Every other table in the room was empty. No guests or waitstaff stood in sight. There wasn’t even a bartender cleaning glasses or mixing cocktails behind the counter. Only a soft piano played over the speakers to keep the atmosphere comfortable.
The men in suits eyed Sakura as she entered the room but didn’t stop her when she approached Hashirama. He didn’t acknowledge her, his attention focused on the newspaper in hand, nor did he complain when she dropped herself down into the plush seat across the table. As if he had been expecting it. She eyed his half-eaten plate of steak and the glass of amber beside his hand. It didn’t look touched but the square of ice floating in the center was barely melted. This couldn’t be his first one.
“Hashirama,” she greeted, not bothering to let him finish his article.
He didn’t look in her direction but he shook out his paper, making the wilting edge stand up straight again. “I believe the last time we spoke, I made it undeniably clear you were to keep your relationship with Tobirama strictly professional.”
Sakura could only blink, a little blindsided. “What are you talking about?”
He turned the page in his paper. “I hear you’ve been to visit Tobirama in his suite.”
“And you automatically assumed I was banging him?” she asked, her voice turning flat.
This time he lowered his newspaper, if only to look at her.
Her urge to scoff was subdued by her own amusement. “I haven’t fucked your little brother in months, Hashirama. You shouldn’t believe everything Izuna tells you.” Then she paused purposefully, as if something suddenly occurred to her. “Unless, of course, you’re jealous.”
That was enough to make Hashirama’s expression shift. It was minute, subtle. Only a small pull in the corners of his mouth as if he was annoyed by her attempt to get under his skin. “You should know by now that your antagonizations do not work on me.”
“Then why are you so interested in who Tobirama fucks?” she asked, biting back the humor that was threatening to cross her lips. “Or perhaps you’re not interested in his sex life at all. Perhaps it’s mine you’re more curious about.”
“It may have been twenty years ago that I pulled you out of that orphanage, but you are still act as if you are a child,” Hashirama said, his tone obviously disapproving.
“Then get to the point. Why did you summon me?”
Hashirama took his time to answer. He held her gaze unwaveringly as he folded his newspaper up and set it aside, his eyes never leaving hers as he crossed one leg over the other and settled back into his chair.
“Because my faith in you is beginning to fail,” he said. His tone was light and even but there was an undertone that made the hair on the back of Sakura’s neck stand up. “I am not an unintelligent man, Sakura. I am not so blind as to not know you have an ulterior motive. So, tell me what you are really doing here in New York.”
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Sakura’s attention and she glanced over to find one of Hashirama’s men had pulled a gun and was pointing it directly at her.
“What are you going to do? Shoot me?” she asked. When he simply stared, she bristled in defense. “Are you fucking serious, Hashirama? You’re going to turn my own guns against me? Don’t you dare begin accusing me of being disloyal when you have been actively searching for any excuse to shoot me. Did you forget that I was the one who supplied you with those weapons?”
Hashirama said nothing. Merely canted his head as if she had told him some insignificant thing.
Her eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps I should remind you that you’re not the only one here who’s armed.”
A red dot appeared on Hashirama’s chest at that moment. He looked down as it traveled up his center, over the buttons of his three-piece suit to settle directly over his heart.
“This glass may be reinforced, but even bullet-resistant windows can’t stop a .308 round from a M40A5 sniper rifle,” she warned.
Hashirama raised his gaze to meet hers. Even with her imminent threat, he continued to sit, poised like a king as something dark and unforgiving lingering behind his eyes. “You’ve learned well,” he complimented with a tone that sounded nothing like a compliment. “But I notice that you have failed to answer my request: what brings you to New York?”
The longer Sakura held his gaze, the more she began to realize Hashirama wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t the first time he had asked her this very question, but this time, he wouldn’t let her talk her way out of an answer. He had her cornered. A literal gun to her head.
Sakura sat utterly still. The blood in her veins simmered with anger, but it slowly began to cool as he continued to watch her. Perhaps there were more age lines and wrinkles beside his eyes but they were the same ones that had smiled at her when she was a child. The ones that held only warmth when he played with her and grew soft when he comforted her after a nightmare.
“I had to come back,” she eventually said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only family I have left.”
That gave Hashirama pause. As if something occurred to him that he had never considered before. “Tsunade has abandoned you.”
Sakura couldn’t find the words to answer and so she simply nodded, unable to meet his gaze. She hated how she felt like that poor, lonely, little girl in that cold, Russian orphanage. Unloved. Unwanted.
Hashirama didn’t say a single word, but he raised a hand and the guard pointing his weapon at Sakura lowered it. A second later, without prompt, the red dot of Kakashi’s scope vanished.
As if nothing had occurred, Hashirama picked up his brandy and sipped from it. Sakura didn’t quite know where to take the conversation next and so she sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. She was relieved when he didn’t make her wait long.
“I am hoping that you are working on resolving the issue in the East that has kept your supplies so limited,” Hashirama said casually, as if they hadn’t just drawn arms against one another.
She nodded. “I am.”
“Good. We will need to be ready to move again soon. The last I heard, Madara’s sources say that Akatsuki is recovering from the raids in Egypt.”
“Is that so?” she said nonchalantly.
Hashirama inclined his head slightly as he set his drink back down. “What do your sources say?”
There was something about his tone then that gave Sakura pause. She didn’t know what it was that caught her notice, but in that moment, she knew Hashirama was testing her. Testing her loyalties. Which meant only one thing: Hashirama knew Madara was lying. He knew Madara was betraying him.
She didn’t know how he knew and, in that instant, it didn’t matter. Because right now, Hashirama’s only concern was her next move. He was offering her an olive branch. The chance to pick a side.
She chose her next words carefully. For they would pave the road for their relationship moving forward.
“My sources say that Akatsuki is mobile. They’re on the move,” Sakura told him.
A small smile appeared in the corner of Hashirama’s mouth, but it disappeared behind his glass as he raised it to his lips again. She had passed his test. She was back in his good graces.
The instant Sakura shifted her car into park, her phone pinged. Killing the engine, she pulled the device from her pocket and unlocked the screen before she pulled up her notifications. Her brow rose when she saw a new message from Itachi.
She hadn’t heard from him in nearly a week. Which if she was being honest, she was okay with that. She still didn’t entirely know what she was doing with him and the space had given her time to breathe. Something she suspected Itachi knew she needed.
Exhaling slowly, Sakura pressed the notification. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she was relieved when all she found was the usual message: a single time and location. With the words “plus one.”
Brow furrowing, Sakura wondered who he could be bringing. It didn’t take her long to figure it out: Kisame. The Israeli agent was finally in the States. And judging by Itachi’s text, he was able to meet. Tonight.
Glancing at her watch, Sakura realized she only had a few hours until the time Itachi had given her. She could only hope this meeting wouldn’t take too long.
Without replying, Sakura darkened her phone before she slipped out of the car. Deep bass pounded through the parking lot. Its rhythm matched her footsteps as she approached the heavily guarded night club. Dressed in a black blazer and dark skinny jeans tucked into black, heeled boots, the bouncers took one look at her before they unhooked the red rope keeping the line at bay and let her pass.
Inside was even louder. The deep house music and flashing lights kept the crowd moving and the party going. Sakura took it all in. Eyeing the DJ booth as the musician spun the hot track to the bartender flipping liquor bottles before he poured a line of shots for a group of women at the bar. The floor was made of black marble, the sparkling tiles reflecting the artificial light while the crystal chandelier above made the tall roof glow. There was obviously a lot of money put in here.
Sakura smiled. That was a good sign.
Her gaze continued to wander. To the upper floor where partiers were dancing, to the VIP lounge where those with names or money or both could hang out comfortably.
Her second pass over the bar, Sakura realized she was being watched. In the corner, a man eyed her from over his drink. His gaze neither lusty nor dangerous. He was simply studying her.
This must be who she was looking for.
Crossing the room, Sakura sidled up to him, slipping in the vacant chair beside him. She didn’t bother ordering herself a drink. She just turned to the man, taking in his bushy eyebrows and odd, bowl haircut. He was kind of a dorky looking dude in her opinion. But Sakura had learned long ago that weird didn’t mean not-dangerous.
“You been waiting for me long?” she asked.
The guy finished his drink through his straw, the loud suction echoing at the bottle of his glass before he set it aside. “Not long.”
Sakura just smiled. “Should we meet your friend then?“
“What’s the rush?” he asked with a bold smile. “We have enough time for a drink.”
Eyeing him, she reached across the bar to grab his glass and held it under her nose. She eyed him pointedly. “Coke with a squeeze of lime. You’re not even drinking.”
The man’s smile held in place seamlessly. “Three years sober. I’m a recovering alcoholic,” he admitted.
“I’m just an alcoholic,” Sakura returned with a smile before she pulled out some cash and slipped it under his drink. “This one’s on me. You can buy next time.”
If possible, his smile widened. “Lee,” he introduced.
“Tsunade.”
He shook her hand before he slid off the barstool and gestured towards the far side of the club. “Let’s go then. My partner doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Sakura shot Lee a mildly unamused look but decided against pointing out that it was him that kept them waiting. She followed him towards the far wall towards a set of stairs guarded by bouncers on either side. At the top was a door that he opened without knocking.
It led to a room that overlooked the entire club. Glass windows kept most of the music at bay, but the heavy bass still thumped beneath Sakura’s boots. On the opposite wall from the windows was a full bar with a single bartender. He didn’t glance in their direction as he mixed a drink for the only guest in the room.
A young woman only a few years older than Sakura sat behind the only table in the room. Even without the knife and sharpener in her hand, she looked intimidating. Her brown hair was up in twin buns, her eyeliner winged to a point and she was dressed in a black dress that made her look more dangerous than feminine.
Lee stepped off to one side while Sakura stopped some feet from the table. The two women eyed each other before Sakura nodded towards the stilettos laced intricately around her ankles. "I like your shoes,” she said.
The woman paused her sharpening as she looked Sakura over once. Then a smirk curled in the corner of her mouth. “Likewise.”
Smiling, Sakura approached the woman as she gestured for Sakura to join her. She lowered herself down in the plush chair across the way and leaned against the comfortable high back as the club lights flickered across the wall above the woman’s head.
“You must be Tsunade.”
Sakura nodded. “I am.”
“My name’s Tenten. But I think you already knew that.”
“Your reputation precedes you. They said you were smart.”
Tenten’s gaze flickered over Sakura’s shoulder, likely to Lee before returning to her, her face a cool mask. “Empty compliments won’t get you far here,” she warned.
However, Sakura just shook her head faintly. “It wasn’t a compliment. I was simply stating a fact.”
Tenten eyed her for a moment. When she found only truth, she sat back and waved her hand at the bartender. He appeared beside the table in an instant, sliding a martini glass into Tenten’s waiting hand.
“Can I get you a drink?” she offered.
“A peach drop.”
With her order given, the bartender returned to the bar. Tenten took a long sip, her perfectly manicured, black nails grasping the delicate stem of her glass, before she set it down on the table.
“So, what can I do for you then, Tsunade?” she asked. Then she continued before Sakura could answer, “You know, you’ve actually been a massive pain in my ass the last year.”
Sakura couldn’t resist smiling faintly. “All unconsciously done. And I’m hoping to right that by this meeting.”
“Oh?” Tenten asked, her frown fading.
“You’ve been in the Underground here for a long time. Longer than anyone. Your knowledge of the area is unmatched.”
A small smile began form in the corner of Tenten’s mouth but before it could fully form it was gone. She reached for her drink again. “What is it that you want?”
“I’m hoping I can borrow some of your expertise,” Sakura said. She accepted her drink from the bartender as he returned with it before he made himself scarce again.
Tenten raised her glass to her lips, her eyes never leaving Sakura’s over the rim. “And why should I help you? You’re in league with Hashirama and Madara. Those two have been giving me grief for nearly a decade. The last thing I want is my guns going into their hands.”
“I’m not looking for weapons,” Sakura told her.
The brunette arched her brow curiously. “You want information.” She went quiet when Sakura nodded. Then she shook her head. “I’m still not interested. Simply your relationship to them could threaten my own business and my relationships–”
“I understand you have a reputation and image to uphold, but what would you say, theoretically of course, if I was to help you with your Hashirama problem?” Sakura interrupted quietly.
This time, Tenten’s drink stilled just before her lips. She cocked her brow curiously. “What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a small warehouse to the North Hashirama owns, guarded by a handful of men with some crates that may be of use to you.” Then Sakura smiled. “Or so I hear.”
Tenten peered at her for a long moment before she gazed over Sakura’s shoulder to Lee. There were no words exchanged between them and with Lee still somewhere behind Sakura, she didn’t know what might have passed over his face.
Then Tenten’s gaze returned to her. “And what would you want in return for this information? Theoretically.”
“Nothing. Consider it a show of good faith,” Sakura said. And in her tone, there were no lies or ulterior motives. Simply truth.
Tenten must have realized that for a smile began to curl over her lips. “Then perhaps there is a future business relationship between us after all.”
Sakura’s answer was a pleased smile before she raised her glass to cheers it against Tenten’s. “I sincerely hope so.”
xx
Sakura was late. She glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time, only to sigh when she found she was nearly half an hour behind schedule. She checked her phone again, ensuring she was in the right place before pocketing it once more.
This late at night, the streets outside the abandoned shipping yard were empty. The warehouse just inside the chain-link fence was dark. Only a stray, flickering streetlight to give her at least a little light to see.
She doubted she had anything to fear by this meeting, but she felt for her guns again, double checking that they were in easy reach. All three of them. One on each hip and another in the pocket of her jacket. Though it was Kakashi that gave her the most comfort. She knew he was somewhere nearby keeping a close eye on her. Very close.
Inside the warehouse, in the back near the empty offices, Sakura found Itachi and Kisame. They were speaking quietly, the soft rumble of their voices reaching her ears. It was only when she drew closer that she could make out their conversation.
“You’re sure she’s coming?” Kisame grumbled.
“She’s never not shown before. Just give her a little longer.” That was Itachi.
Sakura couldn’t help her small smirk as she listened to Kisame mutter under his breath. No doubt complaining about her tardiness. It stopped the instant he heard the heels of her boots.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Sakura greeted with a smile as she rounded the corner.
Kisame was leaning against a desk, dressed in a warm coat while Itachi stood some feet away beside him. He looked good in his own dark grey, hooded jacket, the material emphasizing his broad shoulders. He looked relaxed, almost bored with his hands in his pockets, but he straightened slightly when he spotted her.
Not that she could blame him. She had chosen her outfit carefully tonight from her deep purple blouse and leather jacket to her tight jeans and three-inch heels boots. It was an outfit that demanded attention and respect.
Turning her gaze from him, Sakura glanced at Kisame only to realize he had been eyeing her as well. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over critically. “You kill someone tonight, little viper?” he asked suspiciously.
Sakura resisted her frown at the nickname. Instead, she simply shot him a look. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
His eyes narrowed briefly at that but didn’t press further. Instead, he crossed his arms, making his large form seem even bigger. “You’re late.”
“And you didn’t tell us that the port in Old Town is under Akatsuki’s control,” she countered.
“I didn’t know about that,” he said with a small frown. “Itachi caught me up on what’s been going on here. I even looked into it when I returned to Israel. I don’t have any information on the port, so whatever Pein has been planning there, it’s been kept quiet.”
Sakura frowned, not entirely happy. “So, you didn’t know that Uchiha Madara works for Akatsuki then?”
“Uchiha?” Kisame repeated, his gaze flickering to Itachi. “I don’t know a Uchiha Madara.”
She glanced at Itachi only to find the corners of his mouth turned down in the barest hints of a frown. Apparently he hadn’t told Kisame that part. And judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t been wanting to go into that much detail just yet.
“Madara is one of my distant cousins,” Itachi said when Kisame continued to stare at him. “He turned traitor against the CIA nearly five years ago by selling information to a lot of people that can cause us a lot of harm. My company and I have been trying to capture him ever since without success.”
“He’s an asshole,” Sakura added. “But worse, he’s powerful and dangerous and smart. He’s turned traitor against the people I’m working with to join Akatsuki.”
Kisame’s eyes drifted between the two of them as they spoke, a thoughtful look on his face. “Is that why you two are working together? You’re trying to combine forces to take this ‘Madara’ down.”
There was something almost nonchalant about Kisame’s tone. It made her eyes narrow minutely, her tone come out a little sharper. “I don’t think you realize how much of a threat he is. It’s going to take all of our resources to bring him down.”
“If he’s such a threat, how come I haven’t heard of him before now?” Kisame asked, still not entirely convinced.
“Because he uses other aliases outside the States,” Itachi interjected before Sakura could speak. “Perhaps you’ve heard of ‘Susanoo’ and ‘Shakujo’? We have information from a source in Egypt that says Madara has been sending shipments to the port in New York Tsunade’s been watching.”
“Susanoo,” Kisame repeated slowly, his brows drawing in. “I have heard that name. I delivered weapons to someone using it nearly two years ago under Pein’s orders.”
Both Itachi and Sakura stared at him. “You’re sure?” Itachi asked.
Sakura frowned when Kisame nodded. “That means Madara has been working for Akatsuki longer than he has Hashirama.”
“What else do you remember?” Itachi asked.
Kisame only shook his head. “Nothing. That was it. As soon as I got payment, I delivered the store and I never heard the name again. But now that I know that’s who you’re looking into, I can try and dig up more information.”
Itachi nodded but said nothing, his gaze distant.
However, Sakura turned back to Kisame as he continued, “There’s one other thing. In the last week, Pein has been gathering more men. I don’t know what for, but if I were to guess, he’s building an army. A huge one.”
“He’s planning to expand his territory,” Itachi concluded.
“He’s done it once before, when he took over Cairo. If this port is under Akatsuki’s control, it’s possible New York City is his target,” Kisame told him. Then he shook his head. “But I doubt it. I haven’t heard anything about New York. Though I am curious, how much product has been moved into the States?”
Itachi said nothing as he glanced in Sakura’s direction. She frowned, doing the math in her head. “In just the last month, there’s been a dozen crates shipped. Perhaps more. I don’t know.”
“That’s not enough for a raid.”
“No, but Akatsuki is still planning something,” Itachi said with a frown. “And we need to strike before they do. If Akatsuki does move in, it would take us years, if not decades, to bring them down.”
“I’ll head back to Egypt and see what else I can dig up,” Kisame said, straightening from the desk.
Itachi nodded. “Just don’t do anything too risky.”
Kisame grinned at that. “I’m a double agent. Risky is the only word in the job description.”
The Mossad Officer left after that. Sakura listened to his footsteps echo back at them through the warehouse. Only once it fell quiet again, did she turn to Itachi. “Do you think Kisame will find anything that can help us?”
He shook his head minutely. “I don’t know, but we need him to. He is the only one that can find any information on Akatsuki’s motives. If Akatsuki does plan to move in, the entire country is in danger, not just New York. I know you don’t care about that, but everyone will be uprooted. Criminals and civilians alike. The entire Underground will change. It’ll be a bloodbath.”
That Sakura could agree with. Still, she said nothing. Merely frowned. It seemed like she had a lot more digging to do as well, not just Kisame.
“I should go,” Sakura eventually murmured. “See what I can find on my end.”
Itachi nodded but neither of them made any move to leave. They simply stared at one another. In that moment, she wanted to move towards him, but she knew she couldn’t. There were other things she had to do first.
Forcing herself to take a step back, Sakura turned towards the door. Only to stop when Itachi called her name. “Sakura.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, finding his expression not quite blank but not emotionless either. He looked like he was warring with himself to not reach out to her. “Will I see you later?” he asked.
Sakura knew she should say no but she nodded before she could stop herself, a small smile curling in the corner of her mouth.
Then she was out the door as well.
xx
That night, Sakura went into the Underground alone. She dug for information, offering any money anyone had on Akatsuki or Madara’s movements. And to her frustration, she found none. There were only vague rumors of new men in the area. Ghosts. Not even her best informants had anything for her.
With nothing to go on, Sakura slipped inside a bar and ordered herself a lemon drop. She sipped her drink slow, letting that sweet, sticky flavor cling to her taste buds before sliding down her throat. She stared at the wall, unseeing. Lost in thought.
She was restless. Like there was something just so obvious she was missing. A puzzle without all the pieces, a map with a hole cut out of the center.
Sighing, Sakura raised her drink to her lips again. She doubted she would be getting any sleep tonight. She thought about going to Itachi’s but couldn’t quite find it within herself to move yet as she wondered what the hell she was doing. Sakura kept telling herself he was CIA. That she shouldn’t be sleeping with him. That there was no way this could end well.
But that still didn’t stop her from wanting it. Wanting him. He was nothing like she had expected. He was uncommonly kind and honest in a world that was so cruel and full of lies. Like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for so long.
With another soft sigh, Sakura downed the rest of her drink. She was just about to order another, something a little stronger, when her phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket, she stared at it when she found it was from Tenten. Strange, she hadn’t been expecting to hear from the woman for at least a day or two more.
“Tenten,” Sakura answered. “I hope you’re calling me with good news.”
Through the line, Sakura could practically hear her grin. “I am. I found the warehouse Hashirama was using to hoard his little collection. My men made quite a killing tonight,” she said. “I admit I was doubtful of you but you held your word. And I accept your show of good faith.”
“That’s good to hear,” Sakura said, sounding more enthusiastic than she felt.
“Which is why I’m calling you. A gift for a gift if you will. I hear you’re in the market for information on a group called Akatsuki,” she continued.
That made Sakura still. “I’m listening,” she said slowly.
“I got wind of a location they’re operating out of. An apartment somewhere in downtown. Though I can’t tell you what you’ll find there. The place is all hush-hush; anyone who knows something about it won’t talk. But I can send you the address if you’re interested-”
“Yes,” Sakura said quickly. Then she cleared her throat, reigning in her excitement. “Yes, I would appreciate it.”
Tenten texted the address to Sakura. It was close. Not very far from the bar she currently sat at, but she knew she couldn’t go in alone. Her thoughts still swam with that dark night Kabuto’s men had put their hands on her.
Sakura sat at the bar a minute longer, weighing her options. Then she set some bills down on the table and stood.
The street Itachi’s townhouse stood on was still when Sakura arrived. Inside was even more so. She moved silently as she slipped her boots off, leaving them in the entryway, before she wandered further inside. It was the middle of the night. Closer to dawn than sunset, but she found Itachi in the living room. Sitting on the very couch they’d had sex on and wearing a simple t-shirt and sweats. He was reading a book but he lowered it the instant he heard her.
“Get dressed,” she told him. When his brow arched, she explained, “I have a new lead on Akatsuki. And I want you to come with me.”
Itachi didn’t ask any questions. He headed upstairs and came back down a few minutes later with a jacket and jeans. It was only once they were in the car did he speak, “When I asked to see you later, this was not exactly what I had in mind.”
She didn’t look in his direction as she drove, fighting a small smile. “I know. But this might be important.”
She felt his gaze linger a moment before he asked, “So, what’s this new lead you found?”
“I got word of an apartment Akatsuki has been working out of in downtown. I’m not sure what we’ll find there, if anything at all, but I want to check it out before the trail goes cold.”
“And you trust this source?” he asked. “You’re sure we’re not walking into a trap?”
Sakura didn’t think Tenten was setting her up, but she knew anything was possible. “No, I’m not sure,” she admitted. But then she shot him a small smirk. “But that’s why I brought you.”
He stared at her. And a moment later, Sakura realized what she had just implied. That she trusted him. And not just the type of trust where she knew he wouldn’t put a bullet in her back. But the kind where she trusted him enough to watch her back.
It hadn’t been what she meant, but now that it was out there, lingering in the air, she knew it was true. She didn’t quite know how they had gotten to this point, but she knew she couldn’t take the words back. She wouldn’t.
The look that passed over Itachi’s face, something soft and understanding and mutual, made her warm with something she couldn’t name. She couldn’t quite bite back her smile this time and so she turned her attention forward once more. They had to focus.
It was still a few hours before dawn when they arrived at the apartment complex. It was a tall building, likely four units across and four or five wide. Itachi put in a call to Shisui to get the floor plan before they hunkered down in a hotel across the street, directly level with the apartment number Tenten had given Sakura.
They sat there all morning, watching through the windows for any movements within the unit. An hour after dawn, when the morning rush hour was in full swing and the streets were packed with commuters, they decided to make their move.
Sakura and Itachi slipped into the apartment building easily, trailing in after a woman who left to walk her dog before they took the stairs to the fourth floor. There, they found the unit number Sakura had been given.
She picked the lock in less than a minute before she carefully pushed the door open, her gun drawn as she listened for any sounds of movement within the apartment. When she found none, she slipped inside. Itachi was right behind her, sliding the deadbolt back into place.
They searched the place quickly, only holstering their weapons again when they found it empty. Sakura stopped in the middle of the living room, just taking a moment to look around. The apartment itself was straight out of a magazine. With its black marble floors and high, wooden ceiling, she guessed it was at least a few million dollars, if not more. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she hadn’t thought Akatsuki would waste money on granite countertops and gleaming, leather furniture.
Only when she heard Itachi’s footsteps exiting the bedroom did she turn away. “Find anything?” she asked.
He shook his head. “The bedroom is empty. Though, someone definitely lives here. There are clothes in the closet and personal effects in the bathroom.”
Sakura hummed at that but didn’t reply. She thought it unusual someone would be living in one of Akatsuki’s places of business. Perhaps Tenten had heard wrong. But the woman had been working in the Underground for near that of a decade. Sakura knew she would be able to weed out rumor from truth.
Without a word, Sakura went towards the tall, wooden corner cupboard in the corner. She pulled open the doors and began rifling through the things stored in there. She went through it drawer by drawer, only to find it mostly full of useless trinkets and extra blankets. She searched it thoroughly before moving onto the small desk beside it. Somewhere behind her, she heard Itachi doing the same. Searching for any clues, any hints of Akatsuki’s operation or anything having to do with Akatsuki at all.
A few minutes passed before Itachi spoke again. “You need to see this,” he said softly.
Sakura glanced over her shoulder to find he was standing in front of the tall, towering secretary in the corner. He had pulled the long, double cabinet doors open and was staring at whatever he had found there.
It wasn’t until Sakura was beside him that she understood what had grabbed his attention. There was a map of New York City taped to the inside of the wooden doors. Cut in half with the west side on the left and the east on the right. There were two major colors filling in the streets: one red and the other black with a few other miscellaneous shades scattered around.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a map of the Underground,” Itachi told her, looking at the small key in the corner. “The Senju’s empire is in the red and Akatsuki is in black.”
Sakura blinked. “That’s not possible. That would mean Akatsuki has control of a majority of the South side. There’s no way they’ve expanded that much that quickly.”
He didn’t reply as he folded down the middle section of the desk. Inside, there were dozens of papers. Invoices and emails and receipts of payments. They shuffled through them, reading and absorbing everything they could reach.
Beside her, Itachi paused on one page in particular. Sensing something was wrong, she stopped her own reading to look at him. “What is it?”
“You said Akatsuki had shipped in dozens of crates,” he said slowly, scanning through the numbers. “But if this is accurate, it must be closer to hundreds, if not thousands.”
Sakura said nothing as she accepted the papers from him, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and deeper the more she read. “What would they need that many guns for?” she asked. “Hashirama’s influence is strong, but they wouldn’t need that much firepower to take over his territory.”
“Unless Akatsuki is planning more than just taking Hashirama down,” Itachi suggested quietly.
Sakura turned her gaze from the documents to stare at him. “You think they plan to take over New York completely?”
He didn’t immediately reply as he reached for another paper he had already read through. “Look at this. They have paid off politicians, stock brokers, lawyers, high ranking officials,” he listed.
She took it silently, reading through the numbers carefully. “How is it possible they have this many resources in New York? All without the CIA or the FBI or anyone knowing about it?”
“Because look at the date,” Itachi said, his voice deeply troubled. “These pre-date Madara’s betrayal from the CIA. He paid most of these people off long before he even left the company.”
Sakura opened her mouth but nothing came out. It felt like a bomb had just been dropped on her and she was watching the mushroom cloud grow larger and larger above her. She couldn’t speak, she could barely think as she stared at the massive amounts of documents spread out of the desk before them, wondering how it was possible they could have missed so much.
No one would believe this. She barely believed it herself. But the evidence was laid out before her.
On a whim, Sakura pulled out her phone and began snapping photos. Taking pictures of the map, the emails and invoices scattered about. Anything and everything she could get her hands on.
Until she came upon another stack of papers. A number of emails between Pein and someone referring to themselves simply as “Leader”. A lump settled in the pit of Sakura’s stomach as realization dawned on her. It suddenly made sense why it had been so hard to prove Madara was in league with Akatsuki, why Kisame had never heard his name used before even between other members.
“Pein isn’t the true leader of Akatsuki,” she murmured.
Beside her, Itachi stood just as still, his eyes glued to another document. “No,” he murmured, so softly she nearly missed his tone of quiet apprehension. “It’s Madara. And this is his apartment.”
That’s when they heard the unmistakable sound of the deadbolt sliding out of place.
“Police made a brutal discovery today after workers down at the pier on 11th street returned to work earlier this morning, nearly two weeks of striking. A body, likely there for anywhere between three days and a week, had been found. Shot and killed. As of right now, the police are calling this a homicide and are looking for leads. Anyone who is able to lend assistance is being asked to call the police hotline–”
Ino muted the television then, her gaze falling to Sakura. Sakura didn’t return her stare, just continued to watch the screen as they showed aerial footage of the crime scene below. From their distance, they could only make out the white tent that had been staged over the body and the flashing police lights.
Only once the newscaster moved onto the next story did Sakura turn to Shikamaru. He was leaning against the wall behind the couch, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Have the police found anything yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. They still need to do an autopsy and get the blood tests back but the crates him and his guys were moving when you found him were filled with heroine. A shit ton of it too. The police will likely think it was a drug deal gone bad.”
“Even with two high-powered rounds through him?” Ino asked, her voice full of doubt and disapproval. The second was definitely directed at Sakura.
“Kabuto was a small dealer by our terms, but big enough to piss off some people with more power. An assassination wouldn’t be out of the question if the police dug enough,” Shikamaru told her begrudgingly.
Ino frowned at him but said nothing.
Sakura cocked a brow at her. “What? Do you think I shouldn’t have killed him?”
“No,” she replied immediately. “He was an asshole and his murder attempt on you was unthinkable. But I think you could have done away with him a little quieter.”
“Well then my message wouldn’t have gotten across to the rest of the Underground, would it?”
Sakura tried to keep the bite out of her tone. After all, Ino didn’t know the full extent of what had happened that night. Sakura hadn’t found it within herself to tell her. Or anyone, except for Kakashi. Though, she suspected Itachi was smart enough to have put the pieces together; he had seen the marks and bruises on the inside of her thighs.
Ino inhaled through her nose slowly at Sakura’s words, but didn’t argue further as a knock sounded at the door.
Both she and Shikamaru turned to Sakura curiously but she didn’t answer their unspoken question. She didn’t know who is was. She wasn’t expecting any more company tonight.
Pushing herself to her feet, Sakura grabbed her gun from the table and double checked that it was loaded and functioning properly. Which was unnecessary because a moment later she heard through the door: “Open up, Sakura. It’s me.”
She slid the deadbolt out of place the instant she heard Kakashi’s voice. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark green jacket, his hands tucked deep into the pockets. He didn’t wait for her to invite him in. He simply slipped past her.
Eyeing him, Sakura closed and latched the door before she followed after him. Kakashi nodded a silent greeting at Ino and Shikamaru but didn’t make any small talk. He obviously wanted something.
“What’s wrong?” Sakura asked, setting her gun back down.
He got straight to the point: “Naruto is dead.”
Sakura stared while Ino pushed herself to her knees to peer over the back of the couch. “What?” the blonde asked.
Kakashi glanced in her direction briefly before turning back to Sakura. “I found his body near the port. It was definitely Akatsuki. I don’t know how he got caught but he was obviously interrogated before they cut his throat.”
“God damnit,” Sakura cursed.
“Our only hope is that he didn’t tell them we know about Madara’s connection.”
“He didn’t know,” she told him, raking a hand through her hair. “The only ones that are aware are in this room.”
“And your CIA buddy.”
Ino’s brows furrowed. “The CIA? What does the CIA have to do with this?”
Sakura leveled a glare in Kakashi’s direction, which he returned with a sheepish look, before she turned to Ino. “I’m trading information on Madara with a CIA agent. He can help me take him down.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Sakura simply met her gaze while Shikamaru frowned thoughtfully. “Is this the same agent from a few months ago?”
This time, it was him Ino fixed with a pointed stare. “You know about this?”
“I knew she had been approached. I didn’t know they were still in contact.”
Oh, they were in contact alright, Sakura thought to herself. Full body contact. On his couch. And in his bed.
“This isn’t important,” Sakura interrupted, ignoring Ino’s look that clearly stated it in fact was. “What’s important is Naruto is dead and I need someone to take over his work. Ino, you’ve shadowed him enough to do it. You’re the only one right now that can. I don’t want to pressure you…” she said slowly, her gaze briefly drifting to Shikamaru.
Behind Ino’s back, he shot Sakura a frown, but she turned away as the blonde nodded. “I can do it.”
“Good. I’ll text you what I need. I don’t want you going near the port though. Madara knows your face.”
Shikamaru’s eyes flickered between the two women. “What do you mean he knows her face?”
“I had her pull his phone off him a couple of weeks ago.”
His expression turned incredulous. “And you thought that was a good idea?”
Sakura met his steely gaze evenly, but it was Ino that interjected. “He doesn’t know that I’m connected to her.”
“I don’t care,” Shikamaru countered. “Akatsuki has already taken out your parents. There is a chance they know about you too. Getting that close to Madara was a dangerous risk.”
“But a necessary one,” Sakura murmured quietly.
The look he shot her was borderline murderous.
As if sensing the argument that was about to break out, Kakashi stepped in. “What do you want to do?”
“Nothing,” Sakura said after a moment. “I still don’t know what that port is for. If it is to take out Hashirama, Madara is taking his sweet time doing it. And I still haven’t been able to dig up any other locations Madara is working, which means it could be his headquarters. Once I know more, I’ll let you guys know my plan.”
Ino returned her attention back around to the television after that. Shikamaru eyed Sakura a moment longer before he joined the blonde on the couch.
Sakura simply watched them before she eventually turned back to Kakashi. He was already frowning.
“With Naruto dead, there’s a high chance Madara knows you’re aware of the port.”
“I’m sure he does,” Sakura agreed. Naruto had after all been with her when she dragged one of Madara’s tails in and broke his knee. “Our only relief is that Madara doesn’t know that I know he’s working for Akatsuki.”
“Let’s hope you can keep up that pretense,” Kakashi murmured.
Sakura hummed her agreement, somewhat lost in thought. After a moment of quiet, she looked up at him again. “What did you do with Naruto’s body?” she asked quietly.
“I hid it in the river.”
She said nothing to that. Simply nodded minutely as a little twinge of something akin to sadness passed through her. Naruto had been a pain in the ass most of the time, but he had always finished his jobs and did whatever she asked of him. At least after she had gotten into her scuffle with him. Without him, her job just became a little more difficult.
Sometime after dark, Ino and Shikamaru left. Kakashi had departed not long after dropping by, leaving Sakura alone in her empty apartment. She laid on her back in bed, staring up at the ceiling and making shapes out of the shadows that spread across it.
For some reason she felt restless. Tired but unable to sleep. She laid there for nearly two hours before she finally pushed herself up. Sakura didn’t really know where she was going when she slipped behind the wheel of her car. Not at first. But then she found herself driving down a familiar road. Towards a penthouse suite that had the best view of the city skyline.
Tobirama opened the door less than a minute after she knocked. Dressed in a white wifebeater and a pair of sweats, he looked like he hadn’t been expecting company. And judging by the glower settling over his features, he wasn’t too keen on having it. At least with her.
Sakura let out an audible sigh when he didn’t make any move to invite her in. “Are you really going to make me stand out here?”
He didn’t immediately reply, as if actually considering the option. Then, with an openly annoyed expression, he pushed off from the door frame and headed inside, leaving the door open for her.
Sakura slipped in, closing the door behind her before she followed him down the hall and into the large, open living room. On the island counter, there was a single, crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey. Tobirama poured himself two fingers and tossed the amber liquor back. He didn’t offer her a drink. Not that she minded. She wasn’t really sure she wanted one anyway.
Sakura studied his profile as he refilled his cup. There were some bruises along his jaw, as if he had been in a fight recently. Some scabs on his knuckles like he had fought back. It was the first time in months that she had really looked at him. She didn’t quite like the way her stomach twisted at seeing the stress lines around his mouth and eyes.
“What do you want?” Tobirama finally asked, raising his drink to his lips. “You going to bitch at me again?”
Sakura refused to feel or look guilty. “Don’t be like that,” she said quietly. “If there’s one thing you and I have in common, Tobirama, it’s knowing how to be an asshole. Can we just move on?”
It wasn’t exactly an apology. Because if there was one thing Sakura was terrible at, it was apologizing. She and Tobirama were simply products of their upbringings. They were both street rats and they both fought like street rats. And though perhaps she hadn’t started their feud, she was tired of being mad at him, tired of fighting with him. She was simply looking for a sort of truce – a middle ground they could meet on.
As if Tobirama sensed this, the tension in his shoulders slowly relaxed. The annoyance etched into the corners of his expression fading. “Fine,” he said.
Sakura couldn’t find it within herself to smile but something within her settled. Releasing all that pent-up stress and restless energy until that uncomfortable pressure in her chest was gone. It had been there for so long, weighed down on her for so many months that she had simply grown accustomed to it. Without all that anger to hold onto, she felt lighter. Emptier.
Shedding her coat, Sakura set it on the edge of the counter. “How are things going?”
Tobirama shrugged, his expression a little more open now. “Not terrible. Not great. Madara told us Akatsuki’s moved underground, but they still have a few guys out and about causing us some trouble. I took a few men to investigate a warehouse just inside the New York border last week and ended up getting into a fight with a few stragglers still hanging around.”
At the mention of Madara’s name, Sakura frowned but she kept her mouth shut. She accepted Tobirama’s glass when he offered it to her and took a small sip, grimacing minutely at the sharp burn of whiskey. “You think they’re still active then?” she asked innocently.
He shot her a pointed look as he accepted his drink back. “You don’t?”
Sakura shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
It didn’t matter for he continued, “Madara has a lot of sources and normally they’re right, but there are too many things not adding up.” When she didn’t reply, he focused on her. “Your sources aren’t telling you the same?”
She pursed her lips. “My best source was murdered a few days ago.”
“Akatsuki?”
Her answer was a short nod.
Tobirama frowned, but it wasn’t with pity. It was more thoughtful. He drank a mouthful of whiskey again before looking at her. “Hashirama’s upset with you.”
“When is he not?”
He didn’t even blink at her sarcasm. “He thinks he needs to go elsewhere to get what he needs.”
That was news to Sakura but she merely shrugged again. “Then he’s an idiot. There are very few places left in the States for him to get what he needs. Even less if Akatsuki isn’t as deep underground as you suspect.”
She could see Tobirama consider this as he sipped his drink slowly. She didn’t bother filling in the silence as he thought, her own mind churning over. She wasn’t entirely surprised to hear Hashirama was shopping around. Sakura hadn’t exactly been available for him. And someone in his position always needed product at a moment’s notice.
Still, she couldn’t have him going elsewhere. She’d have to intervene. Which with Naruto dead only made her plate that much fuller.
Pulling herself out of her musings, Sakura glanced at Tobirama only to find he was already watching her over the rim of his crystal glass. He looked like he had something else to say, but the words never came. He simply stared at her, his presence so much calmer, smoother than when she had first arrived.
“What?” she asked.
“Why did you come here tonight?”
“Because we needed to talk.”
He didn’t look so convinced. “Did we?”
She wasn’t quite sure she liked the way he was looking at her. Like he was seeing through her, and so she said nothing. Simply waited for him to make the next move. She didn’t have to wait long.
Without a word, Tobirama set his drink aside before he closed the distance between them. Sakura knew what was about to happen long before Tobirama kissed her. His lips pausing an inch away from hers. Hesitating. Waiting to see if she would pull away or move closer. When she did neither, he leaned down and caught her mouth with his.
His lips moved hard against hers, demanding, controlling and tasting of his liquor bottle. He felt exactly the way she remembered and, in the moment, Sakura grasped his shirt and pulled him closer, letting his tongue slip between her lips. His hands slid under her shirt until his fingers splayed against the small of her back, pulling her body against his until there was not even air between them. A soft moan rumbled in her throat as the familiar stirrings of arousal began to pulse low in her stomach.
There was something so familiar about his touch. It was strangely comforting. And yet, it felt all wrong. It took her a moment to realize she felt guilty. Because she had slept with Itachi or because she had led Tobirama on already knowing full well she wouldn’t share his bed with him tonight, she didn’t know. But it killed the warm pleasure building within her.
In the next moment, Sakura pushed Tobirama away. Not hard but with enough force to give herself room to take a step back. He stared at her, his confusion openly visible on his face.
“I didn’t come here for this,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Confusion passed over his face before his eyes narrowed. “Then what did you come for?” he asked again, his voice hard.
Sakura knew he wanted an answer, but she didn’t know what to tell him. Even she wasn’t entirely sure she knew why herself. She searched for words, only too aware of Tobirama’s growing irritation.
“To warn you,” she eventually said.
“About what?”
She shook her head slowly. She knew she couldn’t tell him anything. She couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t get back to Hashirama or Madara. “Things are shifting in the Underground. People who have been allies for years are turning on each other.”
“Is that why you stole Madara’s phone?”
Sakura stilled. She studied Tobirama carefully but he simply watched her coolly. Waiting, reading her reaction.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evenly.
He continued to study her like he saw through her lie for a moment longer before a soft sound of humorless amusement passed through his nose. “I keep thinking I know you. That I have you all figured out. But I don’t. The only thing I’m sure of that we have in common is that we’re both criminals.”
There was no accusation in his tone. He was simply stating a fact. But she couldn’t help but wonder if that tone of sadness was really there in his voice or if it was just her imagination. She wondered if he was looking for something more. If perhaps he had been hoping he could find it within her and she had only let him down. It wasn’t her place to make him whole, but she still couldn’t help the small sliver of guilt that wedged itself into her chest.
Sakura looked away as Tobirama reached for his whiskey once more. It felt wrong to stay, but she couldn’t find it within herself to just turn and leave either.
“Tobirama…” she murmured, her voice trailing off when he looked at her again. He looked just as lost as she felt. “Just…watch your back. Don’t trust anyone. Not Madara, not Izuna. Not your brother.”
“And what about you?” he asked, peering at her from over the rim of his glass.
She just smiled faintly, sadly. “You should already know by now not to trust me.”
He smiled at that. His expression more woeful than amused.
Sakura took her leave after that, leaving Tobirama and his bottle of whiskey alone in that great, big suite. She took the elevator to the ground floor before she headed down the hall to the secondary lift that led to the parking garage.
It opened for her immediately and she slipped inside before pressing the button for the third-floor basement. She leaned her head back against the wall as the machine took her to her destination.
Even alone, she couldn’t shake the weight in her chest. Disappointment, guilt, sorrow. They all bent and swirled together to make a hard knot just under her breastbone. Though, what they were doing or why they were there, she couldn’t quite place.
Picking up her head again, Sakura slipped her phone out of her pocket to distract herself. Only to find she didn’t have any new messages. Though, she couldn’t entirely say she was expecting any. With Naruto dead and Ino under Shikamaru’s watchful eye, Sakura was fairly certain that things would be quiet for a few days. The only new information to come would be of her own making.
Sighing, she pushed her phone back into her pocket just as the elevator reached her floor. The moment the doors slid open, she raised her gaze. Only to find herself face to face with Izuna.
Their eyes locked, a single moment of silence passing between them.
Then in one fluid motion, he stepped inside the lift, his broad shoulders blocking her in before he pulled the emergency switch. The doors slid closed behind him, the sound echoing loudly in her ears. The outside world suddenly felt miles away.
For nearly a full minute neither of them spoke. Sakura merely watched him, standing perfectly still even as her fingers itched to grab her gun.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Izuna finally said, his voice like spider web thread. Silky smooth and dangerously deceptive.
Sakura smiled, even as her instincts screamed at her to get out. “Did you miss me?”
:k
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You should count your lucky stars Hashirama still needs your services, otherwise I’d kill you right now.”
“You’re so hot when you talk dirty to me,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes, the barest hint of a coy smile on her lips. Then she cocked her head thoughtfully before she raised her hand to brush the backs of her fingers along his cheekbone. “Though, I think you should be thanking me. You look much better after I broke your nose.”
Izuna caught her hand, his fingers wrapping a little too tightly around her wrist as he wrenched her hand away. “I would tread more carefully if I were you. You might be fucking Tobirama, but that protection won’t last forever. Hashirama will drop you. And I will be waiting for you the instant he does.”
Sakura didn’t bother correcting him. She simply smiled. “That’s awfully chivalrous of you. Tell me, are you this sweet to all your girls or just me?”
His expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened around her wrist. It was only out of sheer will-power that she didn’t flinch in pain. “One of these days, that pretty mouth of yours will get you in trouble.”
“So you do think I’m pretty.”
If possible, his expression darkened. Then suddenly he relaxed, his death grip on her softening until his thumb smoothed over the inside of her wrist like a lover’s caress. But it brought her no comfort as something even more sinister and twisted began to curl in the corners of his mouth. A promise of cruel things to come.
“This won’t be the last time we meet,” he vowed.
Sakura’s smile didn’t waiver. “I look forward to it.”
Then she reached around him with her other hand and flipped the emergency switch off. Izuna released her as the doors of his temporary cage opened, but he didn’t move. Sakura slipped around him easily, moving like water around a rock.
She didn’t look back as she walked away. Only once she heard the elevator close again did her smile fall into a more solemn expression. She didn’t doubt Izuna had a bullet with her name on it. That he was waiting for the first opportunity to end the annoyance that she had been on his life. Sakura would just have to make sure that when the time came, she put one through him first.
They didn’t talk. Even after they returned to the parking garage where Itachi had left his car. He simply killed the engine and slipped out of the little Honda, the keys still in the ignition. Sakura went without resistance when he opened her door for her and led her over to his Lexus.
She didn’t know where they were going and she didn’t ask, even as the world outside sped by. She simply sat, watching each streetlight as it came and went out the window if only to distract herself from the reality that she had just thrown herself at Itachi. She didn’t know if she was more humiliated by that or by the fact he had stopped them.
Silently, Sakura snuck a peek in his direction, only to find his attention was focused solely on the road. He kept both hands on the wheel, his gaze flickering from the pavement ahead to the rearview mirror and back again. Itachi hadn’t bothered to put his jacket back on, instead leaving it abandoned in the backseat. Without it, she could clearly see his shoulder holster now, his gun tucked just under his arm.
Her eyes continued to wander. Over his shoulders where his grey shirt fit comfortably, not too tight nor too loose, and up to his face. She couldn’t read anything in his profile but that didn’t stop her from trying.
At some point, they pulled into a residential neighborhood. It was then that she realized they were heading towards his townhouse. The very one she had gone to that early morning the day after Ino’s parents had been murdered.
Itachi pulled into a small driveway beside the house and parked the car before he led her around the side to the front door. She followed after him silently, slipping her boots off in the entryway as he headed further inside, switching on lights as he went.
The last time Sakura has been here, she hadn’t ventured inside very far. She had simply gathered the information she had wanted and disappeared back out into the dark. This time, she made her way in slowly, eyeing the craftsmanship of the crystal light fixture above and the beautiful, dark wood floors.
At the end of the hall was a staircase that led to the top floor and just before that was a set of wooden, double doors that led to the rest of the home. They were open now and Sakura headed towards them, not entirely sure where Itachi had disappeared to. Not entirely sure what she was doing there.
He wasn’t in the living room, but she stood near the entrance anyway and gazed around. There was a rustic but modern feel to the place. She had half-expected Itachi’s house to be decorated in monotone greys but it wasn’t. All the furniture and cabinets were trimmed with wood of deep browns and auburns. The couch and large, floor rug under the coffee table were a matching off-white.
But it was the upright piano in the corner of the room that made her take a double-take. This one was tall and narrow, nothing like the baby grand piano in Tobirama’s condo. She barely saw it at all under all the piles of paperwork and miscellaneous items. More of a second table than a musical instrument.
Sakura had barely begun to study it when Itachi entered the room behind her and asked, “Do you want to shower?”
She pulled her attention away from the piano to look at him. In his hands he held a towel with a shirt and pair of sweats on top, both obviously his. She almost shook her head ‘no’ but thought better of it.
Under the spray of the water, it occurred to her that this wasn’t the first time she had showered under Itachi’s roof with nothing but his clothes to change into. Only this time it felt more intimate. Like things between them had shifted. Although, for better or for worse, she wasn’t yet sure.
Even after taking her time, Sakura’s head still wasn’t totally clear, but she couldn’t justify standing under the spray any longer after having washed her hair twice.
Itachi was in the kitchen when she finally wandered back downstairs. She paused in the doorway to watch him as he moved a kettle of hot water off the stove before he shut off the burner. It felt a little odd, not bad but odd, to be standing there in such a domestic setting.
“I know tequila is your favorite, but would you like some tea?” he asked with a quick glance in her direction before he opened a cabinet.
Sakura shot him a look. “You make me sound like I’m an alcoholic. I drink more than just tequila, you know.”
An amused smile crossed his face as he pulled out two mugs and filled them with water. The delicious scent of orange and cinnamon reached her nose as she approached the counter to accept the drink from him. On one side, the mug read: “Coffee, cause adulting is hard.”
She hid her smile as she sipped slowly. She could only agree with that.
The tea helped fight off the cold from her wet hair. It warmed her hands and her chest as she sipped, settling low in her stomach, but it was nothing compared to when she looked up and found Itachi already watching her.
He gazed at her over the top of his own mug. Just the two of them standing there quietly in his kitchen. Her wearing his clothes. Just being with him for no other purpose than company. They really didn’t have anything more to discuss and yet she found herself not having any desire to leave. Somewhere far in the back of her mind – or perhaps not even that far – she knew this was dangerous.
Not knowing what to say, Sakura chewed the inside of her lip. Fortunately, Itachi broke the silence, but it wasn’t exactly what she was expecting him to say.
“I’m going to shower. Make yourself at home.”
Alone again, Sakura didn’t really know what to do with herself. Her gaze wandered back over to the piano, but rather than making her way towards it, she eyed the rest of the room, giving pause when she saw a handful of photos on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. They were the only photos in sight.
With her mug in hand, Sakura wandered towards them. Immediately she recognized Shisui beside Itachi in almost all of them. Together, just doing ordinary things: riding dirt bikes on an unpaved road, playing soccer in high school or college, posing together in their nice button-down shirts at what appeared to be a wedding.
The last photo had Shisui in it as well, but between the two of them was another woman. They were all wearing matching team, baseball shirts with a field behind them. Likely at the local stadium. She was wedged in the middle of the pair, her arms thrown around their shoulders and a wide smile on her pretty face. She looked about their age, and with the same eyes and nose. Definitely a family member. Another cousin or perhaps a sister?
Sakura didn’t know. And an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in her chest, knowing she didn’t know because she had never asked. She thought back to all the times Itachi had ever asked her about herself. Perhaps back then she had thought he was prying, but now…now she wondered if he was just genuinely curious about her.
Turning away, Sakura passed the bookshelf and she paused to read a couple of titles there if only to distract herself. There was a mix of everything. From World War Two history to travel guides on places all around the world to poetry.
Still, she found her eyes wandering back to that piano in the corner. Glancing back towards the doorway, she listened to the quiet. She could just make out the muffled rush of water from the shower. Itachi wouldn’t be down for at least another few minutes.
Setting her mug on a coaster on the coffee table, Sakura wandered towards the instrument, her fingers skimming over the side in a featherlight touch before she lowered herself down onto the bench before it. She lifted the soundboard gingerly before she played a few slow keys, listening for their sound. The notes fell in tune, but she didn’t immediately continue. Instead she listened for the shower one floor above.
Only when it reached her ears did she finally raise both hands, her fingers falling on those familiar keys. Playing the song that had been buried so deep in her soul for so long, she no longer knew the name or if it even had one.
That was how Itachi found Sakura sometime later. He had heard the music from upstairs the moment he shut off the water for the shower, but had assumed she had found the radio. Only now did he realize how wrong he was.
Frozen in the doorway, Itachi simply stared, the hand towel-drying his hair stopped mid-motion. She was seated across the room, behind the instrument pushed into the corner. It had been there for so long he had nearly forgotten it was there. Her fingers moved over the keys so easily, so seamlessly. Like she wasn’t playing a piece she had memorized, but instead playing a thought, a feeling. Just lost in the gentle sound her own hands were creating.
There were no words to describe the melody. It made him feel a little hopeful, a little sad and full of such a longing he couldn’t quite remember the last time such an emptiness had settled so heavily in his chest.
With her back to him, she hadn’t yet seen him. And though he couldn’t see her face, she had never looked more stunning in that moment. Dressed in his shirt and sweats, her feet bare and her hair still wet and drying around her shoulders. Something that had nothing to do with the music rose up in his chest.
Without daring to make a sound, Itachi crossed the room towards her. He left his towel on the counter, his own bare feet not making a noise against the wooden floors. He stopped some paces behind her, waiting to speak until the song had passed its crescendo and had slowed into something softer and more drawn out.
“Where did you learn that song?” he asked. And he immediately regretted it when her fingers paused over the keys.
She frowned, seeming to seriously consider his question. “I don’t remember,” she murmured, briefly glancing at him over her shoulder. “It’s just always been there.”
Her fingers returned to the keys as Itachi lowered himself down into the seat beside her. Only this time she played softer. More like background music. He simply watched her play, unable to draw his eyes from her fingers as they danced so effortlessly across the keys.
Then she stopped again. “Do you have a sister?”
Blinking, Itachi lifted his head to meet her gaze. A little confused. Wondering where that question had suddenly come from. Still, he shook his head. “I have a brother.”
“And he’s CIA?”
“No, he’s a helicopter pilot in the Army.”
She didn’t seem to know what to say after that and so resumed her song. Only this time she played slower like she was thinking less about the music and more about something else. Eventually she said, “You don’t talk about yourself very much.”
Neither did she, but he didn’t point that out. Merely canted his head. “What do you want to know?”
Sakura opened her mouth only to close it again. Like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to ask. Her uncharacteristic shyness was so charming, Itachi couldn’t resist smiling.
Then he pursed his lips, thinking what to tell her.
“My birthday is June 9th,” he finally began slowly. “I was born in Maryland but moved to New York at ten when my parents got stationed here. I have three Bachelor’s degrees.”
Sakura’s brow rose. She looked like she was going to ask one question but changed it mid-thought. “What else?”
Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “I can speak Hebrew and enough Arabic to get by. In the morning, I need at least three cups of coffee to function, and you…” he started, his voice trailing off for a moment. “You have the most beautiful emerald eyes I have ever seen.”
Sakura’s fingers faltered on the piano. She stilled before she turned her head to look at him. He met her gaze unabashedly, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips. She seemed like she didn’t know what to say, but her gaze dropped down to his mouth as she worried her own bottom lip between her teeth. Like she knew what she wanted to do but wasn’t sure she should do it.
Itachi made the decision for her. Ducking his head, he pressed his mouth to hers, starting where they had left off less than an hour before. Sakura responded without pause, shifting on the bench to better reach him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist as he slid his hand across her jaw to angle her face towards his.
This time, there was no rush. No adrenaline to cloud their judgement. No worry or concern. It was simply them and all the emotion that had been building since longer than either of them were aware. He kissed her slow, taking his time to familiarize himself with her. Her taste, her feel, her scent. Only now he could only smell his own shampoo in her hair and his body wash on her skin.
Something primal reared in his chest. Adjusting his grip, Itachi pulled her closer until her legs were on either side of his hips. In one movement, he stood with her in his arms, her thighs secured around his waist. They only made it as far as the couch, his mouth never leaving hers as he lowered them both down.
There, they spent most of the night. With only soft moans and sighs to fill the quiet. His hands and lips traced every inch of skin, paying particular attention to the bruises still on her wrists, her stomach and her hips. Where the memory of her attackers would soon fade. His touch left her breathless and yet he gave her everything she wanted. When he finally pushed inside her, their bodies moved as one. Working together to find that release that made the rest of the world and all its problems fall away.
Itachi brought them to climax there and then again some time later after their hearts had settled to something less frantic before he brought her upstairs to his bedroom. Then they did it all again.
It was only much later when the horizon began to lighten did they lay still. Sakura rested half-across his chest, her head on his shoulder with her breath ghosting across his neck. Itachi dragged his fingers through her hair in lazy strokes, the action lulling him to sleep as much as her.
“This complicates things,” Sakura murmured into his skin after the silence had stretched on for several minutes.
Itachi frowned but didn’t stop the gentle motion of his hand. He liked the way her silky strands fell through his fingers. “I know.” Then he added, “I still do not regret it.”
“Neither do I,” she murmured. “But we both know this can’t end well.”
Itachi’s grip around her tightened minutely. “Says who?”
“Itachi…”
He didn’t answer her right away. He tried to remember the last time he had felt this content. He knew Sakura was right. Those very same words had been in the back of his mind, just waiting to spring forward. But he didn’t want to talk about it right now. Right now, he just wanted one night.
Rolling them over into their sides, Itachi pulled her flush against him, until their breath matched every inhale and exhale, and their hearts found rhythm together. “We have plenty of other issues to concern ourselves with,” he told her. “Just for tonight, can we pretend this isn’t one?”
Sakura didn’t respond, but after a moment, he felt her nodded against his chest. Itachi smiled against the crown of her head before he finally let his eyes slip closed. The warmth of her heat and the softness of her skin lulling him to sleep.
xx
When Sakura awoke in the morning, it was to a muffled shuffling somewhere nearby. She forced her eyes open abruptly, her mind already racing for where she had left her gun. Only to relax when she spotted Itachi across the room. The events from last night flooded her memory but there were no feelings of regret or embarrassment. Only a fullness she couldn’t quite explain. It was still there when Itachi finished buttoning his jeans and turned to see she was awake.
“Hey,” he said with a soft, albeit apologetic smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No,” she lied, dragging a hand down her face. Then she glanced out the window. The sun was still out. “What time is it?”
“Almost three in the afternoon,” he told her as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it down over his head.
Which wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t fallen asleep until sunrise.
“I wish I could stay but my work called. I have to go.”
Sakura was surprised to see real guilt on his face. As if he honestly felt bad for leaving her there. She was just as surprised to feel disappointment rise in her chest. But she hid it behind a teasing smile.
“Or you could stay. Tell them you broke your phone,” she offered.
The guilt vanished to be replaced with amusement as he approached the bed to sit on the edge at her hip. “Unfortunately, it is important. But stay as long as you’d like. There is coffee already made and food in the cabinets.”
Sakura cocked her brow. “You tell me that like I actually know how to cook.”
“Surely even you can boil water for instant noodles.”
“I think you have more faith in me than you ought to.”
Itachi laughed – a true, honest laugh – before he leaned down to kiss her. He lingered for a moment before he pulled away and stood. “I have to go. I’ll leave a key on the counter.”
Then he was out the door.
Sakura laid there for a few minutes, just listening to the silence of the townhouse echoing back at her and her own breathing. It was this quiet she was used to waking up to. This stillness that echoed back at her. But never did she feel lonely. Not until now.
A long, heavy breath passed between her lips. She raised both hands to her face, her palms digging into her eyes. What did she just do? She had told herself only yesterday morning that she couldn’t get involved with Itachi and then the very same night she had jumped into bed with him.
She didn’t regret sleeping with him – Gods no. But she did regret sleeping with a CIA Agent. Kakashi had been annoyed when he had found out she had shared a bed with Tobirama. He would lose it when he found out she had done the very same thing with Itachi.
There were no outcomes of this that she could think of that would end well. The CIA didn’t exactly operate completely within the bounds of the law but they were still a government entity and she was an international criminal.
Dropping her arms back against the pillow, Sakura stared at the ceiling. Itachi hadn’t seemed too concerned about it. But then again, he had more to gain from this arrangement. Though she didn’t think he was using her. She had been manipulated enough times in the past to recognize it. Rather, she and Itachi were just strangely drawn towards one another. Like magnets, it had only been a matter of time before that invisible pull snapped them together.
But just as Itachi had said, there were plenty of other things to worry about. This one fell somewhere near the bottom of the list. At least for now.
That was enough to draw Sakura out of bed. She showered again, cleansing the stink of sweat and sex from her skin and replacing it with Itachi’s clean scent before she dressed herself in her clothes from yesterday. She grabbed her gun from under the mattress where she had stored it the previous night before retrieved her phone from the nightstand and headed downstairs.
Sure enough, there was a key sitting on the island counter. She pocketed it and took a sip of coffee from Itachi’s unfinished cup. Only to freeze as something caught her eye.
The piano, the one that had been so full and cluttered last night, lay bare. All the books and old mail that had been laid abandoned upon it were gone. There wasn’t even a trace of dust left. It had been wiped completely clean. Spotless.
Sakura knew without a shred of doubt Itachi had done it for her. Something settled in her chest. So heavy and full, that it felt both like happiness and sorrow. Her fingers itched for those keys. To feel their weight under her fingertips. To touch it and caress it as Itachi had done to her last night.
Sakura took one purposeful step back. Then she turned and made her way out the door.
“You’re sure about this?” Kakashi asked not for the first time.
Sakura didn’t bother him with a glance. She merely studied the bullet between her fingers, feeling its weight in her hands, the brass warm from her own body heat.
“We could always tie him to a cement block, drop him over the side of the pier. No one would ever find his body,” Kakashi said.
“No,” she said, loading the shot into the magazine with the rest before she jammed it into his rifle. “I want him executed. Publicly. This is a reminder to all my clients what will become of them if they try and betray me. Just like Kabuto did.”
Beside her, Kakashi said nothing. Like he knew there was no longer any point in trying to convince her otherwise.
Around them, the wind continued to blow. Up where they crouched on the roof, it was colder than down on the street, but it gave them a better view, a better vantage point to the shipping yard below. Kabuto’s men wandered between the large, storage containers. From here, they looked like little ants in a maze but through the scope, Sakura could make out each individual face. None were Kabuto’s.
“You’re sure he’s still here?” Sakura asked after a minute.
Kakashi nodded beside her, a pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes. “Give him a minute. He’ll show himself.”
Sure enough, only a few minutes later Kabuto appeared. His hands were deep in the pockets of his jacket, his collar turned up against the chilling breeze. The setting sun cast a long shadow out behind him, causing his scrawny figure appear even more lanky. A cigarette smoldered between his teeth, making his mouth and nose glow faintly.
That familiar rage simmered deep in Sakura’s chest. Just waiting to pounce like an angered jaguar in a cage, wanting to be released so it could skin its claws in. She zeroed him in on her sites, her finger putting the faintest pressure on the trigger.
Only to relax a moment later.
Instead, she fished her phone out of her pocket and set it on speaker on the ledge beside her before she dialed. She only had to wait two rings before he answered.
“Where the hell are you?” Kabuto demanded through the headphone in his ear.
Sakura merely chuckled. “I’m sorry, Kabuto, but you won’t be meeting your contact tonight.”
Through the scope, she saw him freeze, his body going absolutely still as he recognized her voice. “Tsunade…”
“What? Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” she asked, her voice light. Almost playful.
Even from here, she could see the way he pinched his cigarette between his teeth until he nearly cut it in half. He swallowed thickly, but didn’t reply.
It didn’t matter. She continued nonetheless. “You made a deal with me. And then you went and turned against me. You should know by now I’m the grudge-holding type.”
“It-it was a misunderstanding,” he stuttered. “I can explain.”
Sakura resisted the urge to sigh. “You see, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re a big talker, Kabuto, but you’re nothing special. Just a little street rat. When you die, someone will just fill your place. As if you had never been here at all. And I’m done listening to your excuses.”
The moment the last word left her mouth, Sakura pulled the trigger. The first shot went through his shoulder, the round so powerful that it knocked him right off his feet. He hit the ground hard. Through the phone, she could hear his ragged breathing as it came out in short, pained gasps. He raised a shaking hand to his shoulder, only for his fingers to come away deep red with blotches of darker spots. Bloody tissue and clots. Behind her scope, Sakura smirked. She would never forget the look of pain and utter terror etched into his expression.
Around him, Kabuto’s men screamed and shouted as they ran for cover. None stopped to help the boss they had pledged their loyalty to. He would die there, alone and abandoned.
“There is one more thing you can do for me, Kabuto,” Sakura continued, as if she hadn’t just put a bullet through him.
Kabuto didn’t respond but she knew he was listening. The headphone was still in his ear.
“I want you to keep that terrified look on your face as the life drains out of your eyes. Do try not to disappoint.”
Then she hung up. Even from here, she could see the pure, honest fear in his eyes as he tried to pull himself up and drag himself to cover. Dark, twisted satisfaction rippled through her but it paled in comparison to when she fired the next shot.
Kabuto fell still and didn’t move again. Through her scope, Sakura watched the blood pool around his head before it spilled down the concrete. Nearby, his glasses lay abandoned, one of the lenses cracked and reflecting the light in fractured waves.
None of Kabuto’s men were out in the open. Those that hadn’t run away were ducked inside the shadows. Sakura didn’t pay them any mind. She did what she had come to do.
“You’re sure the police won’t be a problem?” she asked Kakashi as an afterthought.
He shook his head. “The bullets are untraceable. And the workers for this yard are on strike. Either Kabuto’s men will clean up the mess or his body will be found when the employees return to the yard. At which point, the trail will be long cold.”
Sakura hummed indifferently. She gazed at the yard below as a few of the men made a break for escape before she turned away. Her face indifferent. As if she hadn’t just taken a man’s life only moments before.
Kakashi stared at her but said nothing more. He merely packed up the rifle before they headed down to the parking garage where he had left his car. They were nearly at the state border before he spoke again, “You’re quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?”
Sakura drew her gaze from the window to glance at him. She met his eye for a moment before his attention returned to the road. A long sigh passed between her lips. “I spoke with Temari this morning. She found that the port downtown is under the control of Madara.”
“Madara?” Kakashi repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But Akatsuki is using it to move product.”
Sakura said nothing when he glanced at her. Merely waited for him to put the pieces together. When he did, he almost forgot to stop at the coming red-light. “Madara is working with Akatsuki?” he asked after nearly slamming the car to a stop. His voice was full of obvious disbelief.
She nodded. “Which means we need to tread carefully. Very carefully.”
“Are you going to tell your CIA buddy?” Kakashi asked.
Sakura didn’t immediately offer him an answer. Her mind wandering back to that night in her condo only a few days ago when Itachi had wrapped himself around her. She had been so vulnerable then. She couldn’t let that happen again. She wouldn’t. Things were already complicated enough without adding emotion into the equation.
Blinking, Sakura jerked herself back to the present. “Yeah. They’re better equipped to take Madara down. We won’t suffer any losses by letting them take the lead on this one.”
“When are you going to call them?”
“Tonight,” she said. “I’ll go with my contact to the port tomorrow and then hopefully from there his company can track Madara and take him down.”
Kakashi nodded, turning down a dark side street where they had left her car. “Has Naruto told you anything new?”
Frowning, Sakura shook her head. “I texted him but I haven’t gotten a reply yet.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Pursing her lips, Sakura considered her answer. Recalled the last time he had asked her this very question and the consequences that had occurred when she said no.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can always use your eyes.”
Kakashi smiled in response, the look just a little forced in the corners of his mouth. Like he was remembering it too.
She smiled back comfortingly before she finally climbed out his car to head for her own. Only once she was back in her apartment did she finally text Itachi. Just like she always did: a time and a location. And an unsaid expectation that he would be there.
xx
The following night, Itachi arrived exactly on time. Sakura heard him before she saw him, the soft rumble of the car engine echoing faintly against the concrete walls of the parking garage. This time of night, only a few cars remained, though they all lay dormant on the lower levels.
Leaning against the trunk of her car, Sakura picked her head up when headlights began to cut through the stone, support pillars. She didn’t move. Merely tracked that familiar Lexus with her eyes as it rolled past the empty stalls and pulled into a slot across the way from her.
Itachi killed the engine before he slipped out of the car, his footsteps echoing faintly as he crossed the short distance to approach her. Sakura simply watched him as he glanced one way down the garage and then the other.
He wore a pair of dark jeans with a grey shirt under his black jacket. The look was casual, but somehow undeniably sexy. She wondered if he even realized how handsome he truly was. And then she shook the thought away immediately as she reminded herself she wasn’t supposed to be thinking these things. The voice in the back of her head quietly whispered that she was still allowed to look.
When Itachi finally stopped before her, his eyes raked down her form. Only the small tug in the corner of his mouth was his give away. She simply met his gaze evenly.
“I’m fine,” she told him.
His gaze lingered on the blotchy, purple marks around her wrist before they fell to her face. “Are you?”
The memory of Kabuto’s face before she shot a bullet through it crossed her mind. It was then that she finally gave him a small smile. “Yes.”
If Itachi knew what that meant, he spoke nothing of it. But the ridged set of his shoulders did relax as he peered absently about the garage again. “Interesting place for a midnight rendezvous. What did you want to meet for then?”
He asked the question like he knew she had a purpose. That she wasn’t interested in talking about that night she had kissed him. She wondered for a brief moment if perhaps he knew her better than she liked. But Sakura didn’t give that much more thought. Because she did have a reason for speaking with him and she might as well cut to the chase.
“Madara is working for Akatsuki.”
Itachi nodded. “Yes, I know.”
Surprise rippled through Sakura like a bolt of lightning. She straightened from her car as she fixed him with a hard stare. “What do you mean ‘you know’?”
To her surprise, Itachi simply tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “You got us a copy of Madara’s phone, remember? We dug through some of his old messages and found some warning someone against a raid Hashirama’s men were planning in Newark. The one you told me about.”
“And were you planning to tell me about Madara?”
A strange expression crossed Itachi’s face then, as if he was actually offended by her question. “Of course. We only found out yesterday morning.”
Which was about when Sakura had learned the truth too. Her glare lasted a moment longer before it finally faded.
“So, what is the CIA going to do?” she asked.
“They want more intel. My company will not act until they are sure they can bring Madara down,” he told her. “We have had too many close calls, too many misses to just move in without knowing his next moves.”
Sakura frowned but didn’t voice her complaint. She couldn’t entirely blame the CIA for not jumping into action. She was just as aware as Itachi of how smart Madara really was. If they so much as misstepped even once, he would be long out of their reach before they could recover. And who knows when their next opportunity would be.
“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing I know what Madara’s planning next.”
Itachi’s brows furrowed in confusion only for understanding to dawn on him a moment later. “The port.”
Her answer was a cunning smile.
xx
They took Sakura’s car to old town. Just a cheap but clean, little Honda she had borrowed from downtown earlier that day. It blended in with the rest of the rusting cars in the lot. She parked at the base of a building that overlooked the entire warehouse by the river before she led the way to the stairs that would take them to the roof.
Neither of them spoke as they climbed, but one check from her phone told her two things: the first was that Kakashi was in position at another abandoned building nearby and the second was that she still hadn’t heard from Naruto. Not the first time the blond had been slow to reply, but just as annoying.
On the top floor, both she and Itachi pulled out binoculars. For a few minutes they said nothing. Merely perched shoulder-to-shoulder as they observed the activity below, their breath turning a soft white and mingling together in the wind.
“Judging from Madara’s messages, I get the feeling he has been here awhile,” Itachi eventually said.
“At least six months,” Sakura replied, watching the men move about in the dark below. This time of night, they were only shadows, but there was just enough lighting to see them hauling and organizing crates. Her eyes narrowed. “And it looks like they just got a new shipment.”
She felt Itachi glance at her briefly. “Does that mean something?”
“Only that Madara was lying when he told Hashirama that Akatsuki had temporarily gone underground.”
“So Hashirama isn’t connected to Akatsuki,” he summed.
“No,” Sakura said, lowering her sights. “Madara has definitely betrayed Hashirama. And I assume Izuna has as well, considering he was monitoring the ports in the area in case Akatsuki moved in.”
Itachi set his binoculars down as well but didn’t immediately speak as a thoughtful frown crossed his face. “Hashirama doesn’t know this port exists then?”
“No, I never told him,” Sakura said, returning her gaze back to the movements below. She wondered if the double meaning in his tone was real or just her imagination. “With Madara watching him, he’s too unreliable. I didn’t want Madara moving his operation before we could act.”
Itachi didn’t reply to that as he too resumed his observation of the warehouse. They didn’t speak for a while as they surveyed the activity below, mentally noting anything that seemed of importance.
Eventually Itachi sat back again. “You’ve been watching this port for a while. How much product have they moved?”
“A lot,” she said vaguely. Because she couldn’t give him an accurate estimate until she spoke to Naruto.
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Sakura unlocked the screen only to frown when she still found nothing from him. Instead, she shot off a text to Kakashi telling him they would be moving out soon and to find the dumb, blond idiot. Then she pocketed it again.
“I think we need to have a chat with Kisame,” Sakura continued, glancing at Itachi. “He didn’t know about this port so either he’s compromised or Akatsuki is moving in a different direction without his knowledge.”
A deep frown settled in the corners of Itachi’s mouth but he nodded his agreement. “I will contact him shortly and see if he can meet. Here. In New York.”
They packed up after that, ensuring they left no trace that they had ever been there. Sakura drove them towards the city as Itachi texted on his phone. The ride was quiet but comfortable, say for the soft, little ‘pings’ from his cell as he sent out messages. She wondered if he was texting his company or Kisame but didn’t ask. Merely navigated the roads in silence.
Eventually Itachi pocketed his phone. He peered out the window before he glanced at her. “What are your next moves?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she told him honestly. “I need more information.”
“On the port?”
“The port, Madara, Akatsuki, Kisame,” she listed. “There’s too many open ends for me to decide how to move forward yet.”
“But you will move forward?”
Sakura took her eyes off the road briefly to flash Itachi a confused glance. She caught a strange look on his face before her eyes turned forward once more. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I just get the feeling Madara is more of an inconvenience to you than a problem.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked flatly, not liking the direction this conversation was suddenly going.
If he read the tone in her voice, he didn’t back down. “No.” When she didn’t reply, he continued, “I think you don’t care if he lives or dies. As long as he is out of the way.”
“Well, what about you?” she redirected with a quick glance in his direction. “You still haven’t told me why the CIA is after him.”
Itachi shrugged. “Madara is a traitor to the company. The CIA doesn’t really need much more reason than that.”
They lapsed into silence for a few blocks after that. Sakura still didn’t think Itachi was telling the truth but she wasn’t in the mood to press for more. She doubted he would tell her anyway. And she didn’t want to risk having Itachi turn the conversation around on her. She couldn’t tell anyone of her true objective. Even Kakashi didn’t know about it. Still, it weighed on her mind. Already she could feel the time closing in on when she would have to act.
“Madara’s death is simply a means to another end,” she eventually said, her voice barely above a murmur.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Itachi look at her. “So, you have another purpose here in New York than Akatsuki?”
“You’re asking rather a lot of questions tonight. Are you playing bad cop right now?” she asked playfully. Because it was the easiest way to redirect the conversation. Still, there was an edge of seriousness in her tone. A warning to not press too far.
Sakura drew to a stop at the next red light and peered at Itachi to find he was now smiling, as if he too recalled the events in that interrogation room in Tel Aviv. It wasn’t too obvious. Just a little pull in the corners of his mouth.
The look was utterly adorable. She forced herself to turn away. Both trying to hide her own smile and to stomp down the feeling in her chest. She reminded herself that night in her condo was a one-time thing. An impulse after a rough day. Still, that feeling lingered like the heat on one’s skin after a warm bath.
At least until she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw two police cars behind her.
Like a light switch, her entire demeanor changed. Her smile gone as was the warmth in her chest. And in its place cold began to set in.
Itachi noticed the change immediately. He peered in the side mirror, not understand. “What is it?” he asked.
“This is a stolen car,” she said, her voice calmer than she felt.
He turned to her abruptly. “Why the hell would you take a stolen car?”
“I needed something that would blend in. Something that Madara’s men wouldn’t take a second look if they saw us.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth. Whether to scold her or curse, she didn’t know. In the end, he did neither. He simply inhaled slowly. “What are you going to do?”
“That depends. Can you use your CIA immunity to get us out of this?”
His answer was clearly written on his face. They were on their own. She didn’t know exactly how the CIA operated in situations like these, but she didn’t ask. They didn’t have time for the details.
Without a word, Sakura turned her sights forward, her mind racing through the options. The light was still red but it wouldn’t be for much longer. As soon as she started to move, she was certain the police would hit their lights. There were still only two cars behind her, but she could already see a third coming towards them.
Like water trickling into pool with no exits, Sakura felt her body begin to fill with quiet adrenaline. Mentally she planned her escape route.
Forward was the fastest way to the highway, but she couldn’t go that way. The police were expecting her to head that direction. She’d have to try and outrun them through Old Town. It was a good thing she knew these streets. And that the police cars were Crown Vics. They didn’t handle nearly as well as the newer cars.
“I’m going to run,” Sakura eventually said, her voice quiet as if the officers in the car behind her could hear.
Itachi stared at her. He looked like he wanted to argue, but said nothing before he withdrew his phone from his pocket. She didn’t pay him any more mind as the streetlight turned green.
Like a bullet, Sakura shifted into gear and hit the gas. From the center lane, she took a hard left, cutting across the oncoming lanes. Though, this time of night, they were all empty.
Just as she anticipated, the police cars hit their lights and sirens as they gave chase. Her entire body thrummed with energy as she sped through the otherwise quiet streets. On either side of her, the buildings flew by, red and blue lights flickering off the cold, pale stone. Her grip around the wheel was tight and her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes constantly flickered to the mirror.
To her frustration, the police kept up with her. Two cars turning into three and then five, and she was sure there were more on their way. It was a serious crime to steal a car. Even worse given the fact that she was armed. Itachi undoubtedly was too.
“Wake up, I have a situation,” Itachi suddenly said in the passenger seat.
Confused, Sakura briefly glanced at him, only for her brows to furrow when she saw he was on the phone. She didn’t know what he was doing and she didn’t ask as her attention returned to the road. She took a hard turn right and then a left, cutting strategically between two, old warehouses, the alley between them barely big enough for the small Honda.
When they popped out the other side, she could already see a couple of approaching cars, their flashing lights closer than she had hoped.
“Shit,” she cursed lowly as she turned the opposite direction, her foot slamming the gas pedal.
“I’m on Broadway and…” Itachi trailed off as he squinted at the street sign as they blew through the next intersection. “43rd. At least six units. Where are they coming from?”
Sakura half-listened as she drove, weaving through the dead streets. The closest cruiser was almost a block behind, but their engines were faster. They would catch up soon.
“Take the next right,” Itachi told her.
She didn’t question him. Simply slammed the brakes as she turned the car nearly ninety degrees to catch the turn. Whoever Itachi was talking to seemed to know what they were doing. It quickly crossed her mind that the other person could probably hear their scanners, but she didn’t ask.
Itachi told her to take another right and then a left. Down five blocks before turning again.
They were gaining some distance, but unless they lost the police completely, they wouldn’t get away even on the highway. State Patrol was likely already alerted.
A few blocks later, Sakura saw her opportunity. On the other side of the overpass, there was what appeared to be an abandoned chop shop. The long-forgotten building sat dark with peeling paint and broken windows. Beside it, old cars were piled in the small lot, parked together around chunks of old, rusted parts.
Killing her lights, Sakura went around the block before quickly circling back to it. She slipped into a narrow space between two rusted minivans, going so fast the brakes nearly didn’t stop them in time from slamming into the back of a car parked on the other side. Then she threw the car into park and killed the engine in the same second before both she and Itachi ducked down.
A breath later, they heard the scream of sirens as police cars sped down the road behind them, their lights flickering through the windows and bouncing around the roof of the Honda.
Neither of them dared to move. They barely dared to breath as they hunkered there. Sakura’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might rip out of her chest, the blood roaring in her ears loud enough that she had to strain to hear the sirens.
Only once she was certain she could no longer hear those familiar sirens did she slowly sit up again. Itachi did the same, the screen of his phone pressed to his chest to hide the faint glow.
When he was certain they were alone, he pressed the device to his ear. “We’re clear,” he said before he hung up.
Neither of them spoke as the silence stretched on. Sakura peered into the rearview mirror, checking for certain they had got away before she finally glanced at Itachi. Only to find he was already looking at her, some unnamable expression on his face.
Sakura wasn’t sure who moved first. All she knew was that in one moment she was sitting there staring at him and in the next, their mouths had found each other. There was nothing sweet or shy about this kiss. It was all tongues and gentle teeth and passion.
Somehow, she found her way over the center console and in his lap, the cramped quarters pressing their bodies flush together. Her knees on either side of him, his hips pressed against the inside of her thighs.
Sakura knew how dangerous adrenaline crashes were. To be so high only for nothing to come of it. They could make one think they were invincible. Take a bullet without any pain or consequence. Start a fight one couldn’t possibly win. Make decisions they wouldn’t normally make.
But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was Itachi’s hands were on her. Under her shirt, on her skin. His warm touch set her body on fire.
She tugged him closer, slanting her mouth against his. Letting him give and take as much as she did. He groaned low in his throat when her own hands found their way under the hem of his shirt. Itachi was of lean stature, but she felt nothing but muscle under her fingertips. Her hands smoothing over the firm ridges of his stomach before moving over his ribs where his shoulder holster kept his gun secured.
Sakura thought nothing of the weapon now. She didn’t even think of her own as his hand slipped over the one on her hip to grab her thigh just under her ass to pull her closer. A soft gasp escaped her at the sudden pressure, but there were too many clothes, too many barriers, and she pulled away just far enough to drag his jacket off his shoulders.
In the confined space of the passenger seat, it took a bit of struggling to get it off, but once it was, his hands returned to her, slipping her own jacket down her arms before tossing it aside. One of the sleeves landed on the center-console, the rest fell on the driver’s seat, forgotten.
Somewhere, so far in the back of her mind in nearly didn’t exist, Sakura knew she shouldn’t be doing this. But she gave it no thought. Only ground against him harder, wanting him around, against and inside her as heat and desire pooled low in her stomach.
If Itachi had any of the same, fleeting thoughts he didn’t show it as his hands gripped her hips, pushing her down harder, her name echoing out in each of his gasps. The simple sound did delicious things to her insides. She kissed him harder, her hands going for his belt.
That’s when Itachi grabbed her wrists. Not hard but with enough force to make her flinch at the old bruises still lingering there. His grip immediately loosened.
“Sakura, wait,” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed hers with each word. “We shouldn’t…”
Sakura pulled back before she went completely still, not sure she understood. She could see the want and lust lingering deep in his onyx eyes, but something else as well. Something that made that little voice in the back of her mind come forward, reminding her of who she was and who he was. She knew he was right. They were just feeling the aftereffects of their adrenaline. Still, she couldn’t help the little sliver of rejection that embedding itself into her chest.
Closing her eyes, Sakura inhaled slowly before letting it out again. When she finally opened them again, she stared past Itachi to see the windows had begun to fog. Maybe that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t so conflicted. So frustrated at stopping, so startled by wanting him so badly in the moment.
Itachi’s grasp on her wrists loosened to hold them gently, almost more of a caress as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. Such a juxtaposition from the hardness she could still feel through his jeans. Where it pressed into her center. Aching and throbbing.
“Not here,” he said against her brow. “Not like this.”
Something Sakura couldn’t quite name swelled in her chest. She didn’t know what to say to that and so she said nothing. Simply met his gaze wordlessly before he maneuvered out from under her and slipped out of the car.
Sakura took that moment alone to gather herself. She inhaled deeply, forcefully stomping the still-smoldering embers of her arousal down, as she smoothed her fingers through her hair. She reached for her jacket as Itachi pulled the driver’s side door open, but didn’t bother putting it on. She still felt hot all over. Like his hands had seared her skin in the places he had touched.
They didn’t speak as Itachi started the engine and pulled out on the main road. Simply let the silence fill the space between them.
Even though the phone she could hear the anger in his voice. Both towards Kabuto and himself. For not being there for her or for it happening in the first place, she didn’t know.
“I just need more time. I will,” Kakashi continued.
“I know. Let me know when you do.”
They hung up after that.
Outside, the city was just waking. Little streams of sunlight pouring in through the breaks in the clouds. Birds danced in the gentle breeze, chirping their songs as the spring winds carried them between the skyscrapers.
Sakura watched the world continue to turn from inside her apartment. The first one she had bought after moving here. She had holed herself up there for the last three days following Kabuto’s attack. Both to heal and to come to terms with the fact that she had kissed Itachi. CIA Agent, Uchiha Itachi.
She told herself her impulse had been a defense mechanism. An attempt to block out the memory of Kabuto’s murder attempt. That it wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. Because he was on one side of the law and she was on the other. Their worlds would only collide in a fiery explosion that would likely end with both of them dead. If not nearly so.
Raising her coffee cup to her lips, Sakura took a long sip before she released a heavy breath. She glanced down at her wrist to distract herself from more thoughts of Itachi. The rope that had bound her hands hadn’t broken the skin but the bruises left behind were still an angry red and purple. Not the mention her wrist was still a little swollen with the sprain. She probably should have listened to Kakashi when he told her to ice it.
Pursing her lips, Sakura eyed her phone where she had set it down on the windowsill. She stared at it for a long while. Weighing, deciding. On impulse, she picked it up and dialed out. The other line rang five times before going to voicemail. She didn’t know why she had expected anything else but she couldn’t help the sigh of frustration that pressed between her clenched teeth as she ended the call.
Less than a minute later, her phone rang in her hand. She hated the feeling of hope that briefly bloomed in her chest before she read the caller ID. Like she had actually been expecting a call back.
Biting back her annoyance, Sakura swiped her finger across the screen. “Orochimaru,” she said flatly.
“Come now, dear. Don’t sound like that when I’m doing you a favor.”
She swallowed back her retort, half-wishing she had never called him that night after Itachi had left. Instead, she waited silently. For him to tell her what she wanted to hear.
“Sheesh, you took after Tsunade more than I thought,” he mumbled, before continuing, “It took me a few days, but I managed to clean up that mess you made in New Jersey.”
“And the bodies?” she asked.
“All disposed of. Most of the men were criminals. Nobodies. No one will come looking for them. And even if they do, they won’t be found.”
He spoke with an air of utmost certainty that Sakura trusted. She knew Orochimaru was cunning, subtle and resourceful. He could likely hide a body in the front garden at a police department and never get caught. Perhaps that was why Tsunade had had so much confidence in him.
Sakura breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Good. How much do I owe you?”
On the other end of the phone, Orochimaru chuckled. “Oh, my dear. You should know by now that I have little use for dollars and coins. My currency is much more valuable. A favor for a favor. I’ll call you when I am in need of your services.”
Then the line went dead.
Sakura lowered her phone slowly, feeling that familiar bubble of irritation build in her chest. This was exactly what had happened last time. Orochimaru had been only too willing to help her clean up the whole Gaara incident, help her sweep it under the rug. Quick and easy and silent. In return, she need only to transport an entire shipment of drugs into China for Orochimaru. To a place she didn’t trade, with a product she didn’t work with.
Everything had worked out fine in the end, but the entire incident had left a sour taste in Sakura’s mouth. She only hoped Orochimaru would be more forgiving of his favor this time around. Though, she sincerely doubted he would.
Turning away from the window, Sakura headed into the kitchen to charge her phone. She powered on her computer in the meantime, planning to check in on things before she wasted the rest of the day watching television. Something mindless that could distract her for a couple of hours.
However, that plan quickly vanished when she saw a new email from Temari sent only a few minutes ago. Without hesitation, Sakura clicked on it, her eyes scanning through the information rapidly. She read the email once and then twice and then a third time, not entirely believing what she was seeing.
Grabbing her phone once more, Sakura called out. The phone only rang once before the line connected.
“I just got your email. You’re sure the shipment was from someone in New York?” Sakura asked before the blonde could speak.
“I had my guys look into it,” Temari replied, her words coming out smooth and slow like she had just finished a glass of wine. “This is what they came back with.”
“You’re sure?”
Temari huffed, obviously offended. “Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have sent you the information until I was.”
Through the phone, Sakura could hear the delicate ringing and chinking of silverware against porcelain. As if she had interrupted Temari in the middle of dinner. Normally Sakura had enough decency to at least let the woman finish her meal, but now wasn’t the time to be courteous. This information was too important.
“I need you to figure out who is was exactly,” Sakura told her. “Can you do that?”
A thoughtful hum sounded in her ear. “Well, it’ll take some men away from my other clients and I don’t know how long it would be before I got back to you…”
“Temari, can you do it or not?”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone. Only the clinking of glasses filling the silence. Then the blonde sighed, “Yeah, I can do it.”
“Good. Give me a call when you know.”
Sakura headed out into the city shortly after that, already knowing that Temari wouldn’t fail her. Her reputation depended upon it. Sakura drove into downtown, parking her car in one of the many multi-leveled garages that cost far too much money.
She wandered down the sidewalk, the hood of her black petite coat over her head to protect her from the breeze. At the third intersection, Sakura pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the message from Ino again.
The address came back to a tavern. Wedged between two large, stone buildings, it didn’t look like much. Just a little place that didn’t belong. But the most unusual thing about it was the fact that it was open. It was a little early to be serving beer and fried food, even in Sakura’s opinion.
Unsurprisingly the place was completely empty. Well, almost anyway. In the middle of the tavern was Hashirama and Madara, both wrapped in suits of the most expensive material with shoes that gleamed in the lighting. They were seated at a round table, halfway through breakfast.
“Morning, gentlemen,” Sakura greeted. “Mind if I join you?”
Without waiting for permission, she pulled out one of the extra chairs and lowered herself into it beside them.
Hashirama stared at her for a long moment. One that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Then a pleasant smile settled on his mouth. “Of course not.”
Sakura smiled in reply, only turning her attention away when a young waiter approached the table. He held out a menu towards her. “Something to drink, ma’am?”
“Coffee,” she told him. She gazed briefly at Hashirama and Madara’s half-empty plates before adding, “And a ham and cheese omelet. With sourdough bread on the side.”
The young man wrote down her request in his notepad before he excused himself with a promise that he would get her order in immediately. Sakura was still wearing her smile as she turned back to the men. “Well isn’t this just a quaint, little place.”
“It is. One of my favorites, actually,” Hashirama told her.
A little needlessly because why else would he pay them so much to open and serve him and Madara breakfast.
Still, Sakura hummed noncommittally as the young man returned with a coffee mug for her. She filled it with cream and a little bit of sugar before her gaze drifted to Madara. He hadn’t said a word since she had sat down but his eyes had yet to stray from her.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s Izuna?” she asked conversationally. Her tone a little haughty.
Madara waved his hand in the air, as if he was already bored of the topic. “Still upset you broke his nose, but it is not the worst thing that has ever happened to him.”
She couldn’t resist her sarcastic pout. “Pity.”
“What can I do for you this morning, Sakura? I’m sure you didn’t just drop in for a chat,” Hashirama said, redirecting the conversation before they could get too carried away. She was certain he was itching for her to state her business and leave so he could continue his conversation with Madara privately.
“No,” Sakura admitted, pausing only to take a sip of coffee. “I’m here because I’m letting you know that I’ve dropped a shipment off with Tobirama and that any future packages might be delayed.”
“Oh?”
“Something has arisen in the East and I am freezing most of my store until the issue can be resolved.”
“Sounds serious,” Hashirama murmured into his coffee mug, sounding utterly unconcerned.
“Nothing too worrisome,” she shrugged. “More of a bother than anything. But I wanted to inform you personally that any movements against Akatsuki might need to be delayed unless it’s an emergency.”
“That shouldn’t be an issue. Akatsuki has gone underground as of late.”
Sakura cocked her brow. “Is that so?”
“My informants tell me that they took a big hit in Africa,” Madara interjected. His tone reflected that of a bored school teacher giving a dry lecture rather than a major dealer finding good news with one of his enemies. “Something about one of their main warehouses in Egypt being raided by police. They have had to move their production elsewhere.”
“Perhaps your problem in the East is from the authorities as well. A leak?” Hashirama offered.
Sakura met his gaze over her coffee mug, trying and failing to read his expression. She didn’t know what he was trying to get her to admit. If there was a leak, she was certain Temari would have found it and told her.
The information on Akatsuki was news to her though. If there was a pause in their movements that would reflect on the port in New York. Unless the person pulling the strings here in New York was involved. She would have to check in on Naruto to know for certain.
“I doubt my troubles in the East are connected,” Sakura eventually said with a casual shrug. “I don’t have any products near Egypt. But I suppose anything is possible. I’ll have to delve into the matter later.”
“I would see to it,” Hashirama said. A demand concealed as a suggestion. “I wouldn’t want your store to dry up the moment Akatsuki regroups.”
Sakura simply smiled in response as the waiter returned with her breakfast. She ate just slow enough to not give the appearance that she was rushing while the three of them continued their conversation. She listened as Hashirama spoke of his plans to overthrow Akatsuki’s territory in Newark. The warehouse was still running strong, the port under Akatsuki’s protection.
“Tobirama tells me they haven’t brought in any more product in the last few weeks, likely because of the raids in Egypt,” Hashirama added with a glance in Madara’s direction. “But they are still continuing to expand in the area.”
“In my experience, Akatsuki likes to build relationships with those already in the Underground here. Once they learn how their contacts work and operate, they take him out,” Madara informed them. “They did the same thing in Africa. It is how they grew to power so quickly.”
Sakura considered this silently as she munched on the remains of her toast. With one, large swig, she finished off her coffee before she wiped her hands and mouth on her napkin. “I’ll chat with my informants in the Underground. See if they’ve heard of anyone looking to make connections in New Jersey or New York.”
“Let me know what you find,” Hashirama told her.
Nodding, Sakura recognized her dismissal. She smiled as she pushed herself to her feet. “Enjoy the rest of your meal, gentlemen. Thanks for breakfast.”
Then she turned and made her exit, only too well aware she had left Hashirama with her tab.
With her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket, Sakura made her way down the block. She merged in with the other pedestrians, crossing the street with the herd before they parted ways. Some turning left, others right. A handful into the coffee shop on the corner while she marched on. Ahead of her, a woman with a stroller parted the crowd. Sakura followed her, finding it was easier than trying to push her own way through the morning foot traffic.
At the next street, their paths parted as Sakura took a left. She was only halfway down the block when her phone vibrated in her hand. It was Kakashi. After popping her headphones into her ears, she answered.
“I found him,” Kakashi told her.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Then all her senses sharpened as anger and hate and revenge began to build in her chest. “Where?”
“Southern New Jersey. He’s laying low but I can take him out. It wouldn’t be hard to hide the body.”
“No,” Sakura said, her mind already moving. Already planning. “He’s mine.”
“What do you want to do?” Kakashi asked.
“I want you to follow him. Don’t let him out of your sights. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
With her orders given, Sakura hung up the phone. She hurried down the street, back to the garage where she had parked her car. Rage pulsed through her body like a second heartbeat, pumping through her veins and setting her skin on fire. She wanted Kabuto dead. But she would only be satisfied if she was the one to put the bullet through his head.
Sakura’s phone chirped from a notification as she started her car. She pulled the device out of the pocket of her coat, expecting a text from Kakashi with an address. Instead, what she found was an email from Temari. With no subject and one word that made her blood go from boiling hot to icy cold:
Madara.
Sakura barely registered the rest of her email. Temari told her she was still looking into the name and that she would get back to Sakura once she knew more, but Sakura knew there was no point. Because there was only one Madara in the Underground.
Releasing her grasp on the steering wheel, Sakura sat back in her seat, feeling dazed. Like someone had just punched her in the face.
Madara was working for Akatsuki. He was in league with the biggest threat to hit the United States in years. And she had just had breakfast with him.
It all suddenly made sense. How Akatsuki knew what the Senju were going to do next, how Hashirama had so many moles in such a short time period, how Akatsuki had managed to sneak into New York while Izuna was supposedly monitoring the ports.
Her, Ino, Kakashi, Hashirama, Tobirama, Naruto, they were all in danger. Sakura tried to recall everything Madara had said during their conversation. She had to assume that he had been lying when he said Akatsuki had been forced underground in Egypt. Which meant they were likely building up their arsenal. Sakura would have to move quickly if she was going to outsmart him.
Only before Sakura could shift her car into drive, her phone pinged again. This time it was from Kakashi. A single address. Straight to Kabuto’s location.
Closing her eyes, Sakura inhaled and exhaled slowly. When she opened her eyes, her choice was made. She would go for Kabuto and then turn her sights to Madara. Because while Madara was a catastrophic problem that threatened everything she had worked for, Kabuto was personal.
Once he was out of the way, she could lead the CIA right to Madara. And then she could finally turn her sights on her true objective: Hashirama.
a/n: Please note that this story contains themes that may be triggering. These themes include: murder, attempted rape and detailed/graphic violence. If you are uncomfortable reading any/all of these themes, please do not proceed. Thank you.
Chapter Twenty-One The Changing Tides
Sakura took a long sip of coffee. With the other hand, she scrolled through her phone, mentally organizing her day, her shipments and her thoughts.
Releasing a drawn-out sign, Sakura darkened the screen of her phone. Her gaze fell out the little café she had grabbed coffee from. The panels were covered in raindrops. Beyond them, she could see it was still raining. Just a slight drizzle that dampened everything, washing the grey city in even more grey.
It made her want to go to bed. Curl up and watch a movie between naps.
But she couldn’t. She still had so much to do. Between overseeing the packing of the storage to the North and checking in on Ino and Naruto, her day was already full. Not to mention she still needed to pass Madara’s copycat device off to Itachi. Now that Sakura had had three days to buy another phone and make a copy for her own use.
Opening her phone up again, Sakura sent Itachi a text message. The address to one of her many apartments and a time.
She finished her coffee after that and stood, intending to begin another very long day. Her phone pinged with another notification the moment she stepped outside. Under the awning of the doorway, Sakura pulled her phone out again.
This time, it was Kabuto. With a nasty email. Unsurprising since she had declined his latest payment, seeing as she had frozen all her orders. Just one more thing she had to deal with today. Mentally she went over her schedule again. She supposed she could reach out to Kabuto after her meetings with Ino and Naruto, and before she saw Itachi. As long as Kabuto didn’t take too long.
With that decided, Sakura replied to his email as she headed down the sidewalk, weaving between the businessmen moving with purpose and the tourists lingering without.
At the end of the block, Kakashi was waiting for her. His dark Charger idling on the curb, headlights off and windshield wipers on low. He reached across the center console and opened the passenger seat from the inside for her. Once inside, he merged into traffic.
They spent the better part of the day together, just as they had for the last two days straight. He went with her as she conducted her business, organizing shipments and helping her secure safe locations. The storage up north was almost done and after meeting with Ino and Naruto, Sakura was beginning to feel a little better about everything. At least on her side of things.
“I’m going to send Ino to double check on the store in downtown while Naruto surveils the port,” Sakura said as they drove back towards the city.
Kakashi glanced at her briefly before his eyes fell to the road again. “And what about your things in South Central?”
Her fingers stilled over her phone. “Shit, I forgot about that.”
“Do you want to go there now?”
“Can’t, I have to meet with Kabuto,” she said. When Kakashi peered at her, she sighed, “He’s bitching again. Believe me, I don’t want to meet with him either, but he put in an order a week ago and I cancelled it. Hopefully by going to talk to him, I can shut him up for a while.”
Kakashi still didn’t look overly happy but he didn’t reply. They drove without speaking for a few minutes after that. Just the road humming along beneath their feel to keep the silence at bay.
Eventually Sakura darkened the screen of her phone, a soft sigh spilling past her lips. “How about this: you to South Central and I’ll go talk to Kabuto, and we’ll check in afterwards? That way everything gets done.”
Even in the dark, Sakura could see the downward pull of his lips but he nodded nevertheless. “Fine. I’ll drop you at your apartment in downtown. I think that’s where you left your car, right?”
She nodded before she resumed her scrolling through her phone. That would give her just enough time to speak with Kabuto before Itachi showed up.
It was still raining when Kakashi dropped her off. Fortunately, the parking was underground, the only water on the pavement tracked in from other vehicles as they came and went.
“Kabuto’s annoying, but he still pays. Try not to kill him,” was Kakashi’s parting words.
Sakura merely smiled a smile without promise before she headed to her own car.
Less than an hour later, she crossed the main bridge between New York and New Jersey. It had been a while since Sakura had been to the warehouse Kabuto liked to hide out in, but she recalling the winding roads down to the river.
The parking lot was mostly empty, except for the crowd of usual cars. The ones Kabuto and his groupies paraded around in. Little sporty Hondas. The ones that made a lot of noise while going nowhere fast.
The warehouse itself was dark when Sakura entered, her boots echoing against the wide walls of the large bay. She expected to find Kabuto in the back, like she always did. Only when she got there, the table was empty. As were the chairs scattered around it.
Unease settled in the pit of Sakura’s stomach and her hand went for her gun automatically. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow flickered. She turned towards it as she drew her weapon, but before she could defend herself, something struck her hard on the side of the head. And her whole world went dark.
xx
Pain, pounding and throbbing, hit Sakura like a wave as she woke from her forced unconsciousness. She exhaled a tight breath, not daring to open her eyes just yet as she prayed for the ache in the back of her skull to recede. It didn’t, but it slowed to a deep, pulsing throb rather than a sharp, stab as she inhaled and exhaled and inhaled again.
The first thing she noticed after the pain was that she was lying on her side, her hands tied behind her back. Something she likely only realized because she wasn’t able to reach for her tender skull.
The next was that there were voices. At least two, possibly three somewhere behind her. But it was hard to make out through her pounding head and their mumbling. She strained to hear what they were saying, but the more she concentrated, the more her head ached.
Sakura wasn’t entirely sure much time passed. She dozed off and on, grateful for those brief minutes when sleep chased away the pain lancing through her temples.
She was just drifting off again when a door somewhere nearby slammed open. “So?” someone demanded. She would recognize Kabuto’s voice anywhere.
“She came alone,” one of his men told him.
“Not even her sniper?”
“Nowhere in sight.”
“Well that’s the job of a sniper, isn’t it?” Kabuto bit back harshly. “Go. Search the area. Find out for sure if he’s around.”
There was a hurry of footsteps across the concrete floors. Only once they had faded did she hear softer steps approach where she was laying. Sakura pretended to be unconscious. Which didn’t matter because Kabuto still landed a swift kick to her ribs. She hissed, keeping her yelp of pain locked firmly behind her teeth.
Kabuto was smirking down at her when she finally managed to roll over. His glasses flashed against the single, overhead light. She glared up at him.
“Well, well, Tsunade. Seems our positions are finally reversed for once,” he said, his tone openly smug.
“The only thing that’s changed, Kabuto, is where I was only just considering killing you before, is now a definite,” Sakura retorted.
He didn’t reply. Simply struck her again. Automatically she curled in on herself, hoping that the metallic taste on her tongue was from the dust and metal shavings on the floor and not blood.
“You would think someone in your position would be nicer. But you always were a big talker. I guess that’s what got you here in the first place,” Kabuto said, squatting down to be closer to her level. He rested his chin on his fist, his elbow supported on his knee. “You should have known better than to cross me. I always got you your payments, perhaps one or two were a little late, but you got them. And then you had the audacity to deny me my guns when my men needed them most.”
“Kabuto-”
But she never got the rest of her statement out as one of his men approached her from behind. The strike to her lower back left her winded, gasping for breath. She wasn’t even able to find the strength to struugle against the hands that grabbed her as she was hauled up and settled roughly into a chair. She likely would have tipped over had someone not straightened her again.
“Kabuto,” she tried again as she caught her breath, “I didn’t deny you guns out of spite. There are factors in play that you don’t understand-”
She cut off abruptly as one of his men backhanded her. She spat out the blood that coated her tongue before she glared at him. The man grinned right back, his broken front tooth gleaming in the light.
Kabuto didn’t reprimand his man but he held up a hand to keep him back. “You see, that’s the problem isn’t it?” he said, casually throwing her words from their last meeting back at her. “You’re a pretty girl, Tsunade. I’m sure that’s helped you get out of situations in the past. But it won’t help you here. I’ve found another supplier who can get me what I need. Which means I’m done with your threats and demands.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the cruel smile playing on his lips, but before she could open her mouth, he turned to a man on his left, a large brute that made Kabuto’s small frame appear even smaller. “Do whatever you want with her. Just make sure you dispose of her body afterwards.”
Sakura’s eyes grew wide as her heart jumped in her chest. Kabuto said nothing else. Merely flashed her one last parting glance before he turned and walked out of the room. The heavy, metal door slammed closed behind him. It sounded more like a coffin closing heavily over her head.
Sakura stared at the door until the man Kabuto had addressed stepped towards her. There was a dark, sinister smile on his face as he purposefully reached for the belt of his pants.
Her stomach twisted with disgust and unconsciously she pressed herself back into her chair, wishing it would just swallow her up and make her disappear. It didn’t. Instead, it only pushed against her skin, into the bruises and aches that throbbed just below the surface.
A hard knot began to grow in Sakura’s chest. A mix of terror, hate, rage. And hopelessness. She knew exactly what position she was in. What would likely happen next. And how there was very little she could do to stop it.
Her breath quickly became labored as her distress grew, but Sakura didn’t bother screaming. There was no one to hear her anyway. And in that moment, every fiber of her being regretted her decision to not have Kakashi come with her. She never realized how much she had taken him for granted until now.
On either side of her, more men approached. All wearing that same, matching smile that made her actually, physically ill. She began to struggle, the bounds around her wrists burning into her skin and unyielding. Then one of them was on top of her, one hand grasping her breast painfully through her shirt while the other snaked up the inside of her thigh.
Sakura did the only thing she could think of. She kicked off the ground, knocking her chair backwards. With her hands still tied behind her back, she landed on them heavily. Pain raced through one wrist but she ignored it, using the momentum to roll away from the men crowding her. It gave her enough time to slip her hands in front of her before she pushed herself to her feet.
Sakura didn’t know how she was going to escape. There were at least ten of Kabuto’s men in the room. All with the intent to hurt her. Defile her. They stalked towards her purposely.
“Here, kitty kitty,” one of the men cooed cruelly.
The rest of them all laughed as they took a step forward. Sakura stepped back, matching their pace.
“C’mere, doll face, we’re not going to hurt you,” another off to one side snickered.
Sakura glared at him, realizing a moment too late that the distraction had work. Another man grabbed her from the side and knocked her to the ground, pressing his body down and on top and against her. She tried not to retch at the foul musk of sweat and cigarette smoke.
“C’mon, baby,” he said huskily in her ear. “We just wanna have some fun.”
With a growl of frustration and pain and terror, Sakura tried to shove him away when his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and splayed against her stomach. She struggled against him, feeling herself losing the battle. She had never felt so helpless. So desperate in a fight to escape.
That’s when her knee connected with something hard against his hip. A second later, her eyes caught the glint of a handle of a gun. And in that moment, something other than panic rippled through her. Something that distracted her from how alone and defenseless she felt.
Like a light turning on, Kakashi’s training kicked in. Sakura dug her heel into the man’s other hip and pushed out with as much strength as she could muster. It gave her just enough separation to reach down with her bound hands and grab his gun before she kicked him between the legs.
With a loud curse, he scrambled back, both hands cupping himself. The fury was obvious in his eyes when he peered up at her through watery eyes. “You bitch, I’m gonna fucking kill-”
A bullet through his eye cut him off abruptly before he slumped to the floor and didn’t move again.
The rest of the men stilled, realizing the shift of power at that exact moment. Then they all scrambled. But Sakura was already moving. She unloaded two more rounds into the bodies of two more men before a third managed to reach her.
His hand tightened around the barrel of the gun just as she pulled the trigger. A scream tore from his throat as she unloaded the last two bullets into his gut. He dropped his own weapon before he collapsed to the ground, his hands around his stomach where black blood bubbled.
Sakura didn’t give him a second glance. Merely grabbed his discarded gun from the floor before she moved on.
The rest of the men either scattered for cover or tried to restrain her as well. Only one made it close enough to touch her. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back until she was looking up at him. There was a murderous sneer on his face but it vanished when she stomped on his foot and brought the gun in her tied hands up to hit him upside the nose.
He stumbled back as she ripped her hair out of his grasp. Her skull stung but her anger burned stronger. Sakura was nearly seeing red when she swung around to face him. Blood gushed out his nose as he pointed his gun at her. She dodged as the sharp crack rang through the air.
With her adrenaline pulsing, Sakura didn’t know if she had been shot, but she felt the rope binding her wrists together loosen. Not enough to fall away but enough that she was finally able to break her bounds and free her hands completely.
Then she went after the man once more. He aimed at her again just as she closed the space between them. Grabbing his wrist, she pushed his gun far above her head as she unloaded a round into his chest. This close, she felt the metal round rip through his ribs. When he gasped, she saw his broken front tooth. The man that had hit her.
With the cruelest of smiles, Sakura held his gaze as she lodged two more bullets through his flesh. Feeling the exact moment his heart stopped.
In less than a minute, Sakura took out the rest of the men. The ones who had come in unarmed looking for a show. She panted hard, her labored breathing echoing around the room like she had just run a marathon. And she felt like it with her aching sides and sore muscles.
The entire room looked like something out of a horror film. Bodies were strewn about, blood collecting in little pools around them and flecked up the walls and across the concrete. It took her a moment to realize that over her own panting, she could hear another. Just a soft, shaky inhale and exhale.
Looking down, Sakura saw the faint rise and fall of one of her attacker’s chest. Still alive. She fixed that with a single bullet to the back of his skull.
Then she exited through the door Kabuto had departed through. Her only thought of finding him. And ending him.
At the bottom of the staircase was another one man, supposedly standing guard. He must have not heard the commotion upstairs through the thick steel for he never even heard her approach. Only dropped to the ground with a single shot.
To her disappointment, Kabuto was already gone. That didn’t stop Sakura from taking out the rest of the men in the warehouse, one-by-one. Until all that remained in her wake were corpses and an unspoken story of what would become of those who tried to double-cross her.
xx
The entire apartment building was quiet when Sakura arrived. Still, she took the back stairs to the top floor where her condo was, only too aware of the blood and other bodily fluids that clung to her skin and clothes.
She tried not to think about it. About how her hands were still shaking, about how her hair stuck to the side of her neck from more than just sweat, about how much her wrist was killing her. She just focused on one step at a time and trying to get into her apartment before anyone saw her.
Which is why when she exited the stairwell and saw someone sitting on the step outside her door, she stilled. It took her a moment to recognize Itachi but she didn’t immediately relax when he looked up at the sound of the stairwell door closing behind her. The last thing she wanted was a visitor right now.
“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly when he didn’t speak or move to stand.
He stared at her a moment before he finally said, “We were supposed to meet hours ago.”
There was a faint note of irritation in his voice. One she didn’t understand until she realized she was still standing in the shadows. Just out of the hall light.
Letting out a small, ironic laugh, she took a single step forward. “Sorry. Something came up.”
Itachi didn’t move, but his eyes grew large as he traced her from top to bottom. He seemed like he was trying to find what to say as he pushed himself to his feet slowly. The questions of ‘how’ and ‘what’ and ‘are you okay’ formed over his expression, but the words never made it past his tongue as a door slammed closed elsewhere in the building.
It seemed to blink him out of his trance. “Let’s get you inside,” he said instead.
They didn’t speak after that. Even after Itachi slid the deadbolt in place behind him. Even after Sakura slipped her boots off. She simply headed further inside towards the bathroom.
There, she stripped slowly, carefully. First her pants, followed by her shirt. A low hiss escaped her when she reached back for the clasp of her bra. The dull ache in her sides sharpening to something more pronounced with the action.
Without hesitation, Itachi stepped forward from where he had been in the doorway. So still and silent and watchful she hadn’t realized he was there. She tensed at his initial contact, barely relaxing when he helped her slide the material off her shoulders and down her arms with gentle fingers.
In the mirror, Sakura saw the full extent of the damage. Blood splattered against her hands, smeared along her collarbone and neck, and flecked across her face. Bruises had already formed on her sides, dark and looking as painful as they felt. But it was her wrists that were the worst. Rope burns cut into her skin, the right one already swollen where she had landed on it.
Unable to look at the damage any longer, she peered up at Itachi. Through the mirror, their eyes met. His gaze never wavering from hers. She could see the questions lingering there but he didn’t ask and she didn’t answer. Merely turned away to turn on the shower.
By the time Sakura had scrubbed all the crimson and grime from her skin, the air in the bathroom was thick with steam. Itachi was no longer there, only a towel left by the shower stall the only evidence he had ever been there. She didn’t know if she was more or less relieved that he was gone.
Sakura dried herself in silence, wrapping the soft towel around her middle carefully before she used her hand to wipe the mist off the mirror. She frowned at the blemish in the corner of her mouth, recalling how the man with the broken tooth had hit her. Which was immediately followed with the memory of her unloading three bullets into his ribcage. Those shots ringing in her ear, feeling them ripple through his body under her hand.
Sakura looked away from the mirror sharply. She didn’t dare peer into it again before she headed into the adjoined bedroom. There, she pulled on a hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts before she wandered into the rest of the condo.
To her surprise, she found Itachi in the living room, sitting on the longue chair beside the coffee table. He was typing on his phone but he looked up when he heard her footsteps. She stopped in the doorway and eyed him uncertainly. She had thought he had left. With him sitting there, watching her, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell him to go away or not.
In the end, she said nothing. Simply sat on one side of the couch. Itachi didn’t speak either. Not even when he stood a minute later. Sakura watched him curiously when he disappeared into the kitchen. She didn’t know what he was doing in there, but he came back a few minutes later with two shot glasses and a bottle of her best tequila.
He sat beside her before he uncorked the bottle. As soon as he filled one glass, Sakura grabbed it, tossing it back in one go. Hoping the unforgiving grip of alcohol would blur the memory of hands on her chest, between her legs. In her soul. She clung to her anger and the memory of their blood between her fingers. Warm and sticky.
Without a word, Itachi refilled her shot after he had finished topping off his. This time, they drank together.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Itachi asked eventually.
Sakura blew a long breath out between her lips. Not looking at him as she leaned forward to place her shot glass back down. He refilled it immediately.
“Not much to talk about,” Sakura said.
Not sure if she should be telling him anything. He was still CIA. And she had just doubled her kill count in one night. She didn’t know how she felt about that either.
“Just a deal gone bad,” she continued before she reached for the shot glass again. Hoping he didn’t see the way her hands trembled slightly.
She pretended not to notice he was still watching her. Or how close he sat beside her. Even after her shower, her skin was still crawling. She wanted to run her nails down her arms, over her chest. Tear the feeling of those other hands on her body.
“Do you need anything?” he asked.
Sakura let out a cruel laugh. What could he possibly do that could make her feel any better? Tell her he was sorry? Hold her? Perhaps pour her another drink?
“Why are you even still here?” she retorted instead, her anger rearing.
She hoped her words cut into him. Made him bleed. Made him hurt. Like she had. Like she still was.
Because there was something about Uchiha Itachi that made her feel vulnerable, like he could see into her, through her. And the worst part was, she didn’t entirely hate it. She felt safe with him. Secure. As if she could tell him her deepest, darkest secrets and he would only just listen. All without judgement.
But Itachi didn’t become offended by her harsh tone. Instead, a look of confusion passed over his face. Like he didn’t entirely understand why he was still there either. When he blinked, the look was gone. “I am just concerned about you,” he said so softly, so quietly like a caress.
Her eyes narrowed defensively. “It’s not part of your job to be concerned about me.”
“No, but I am anyway.”
“Why?”
Itachi didn’t immediately reply. Then he said, “Because you aren’t what I expected.”
“And what did you expect?” Sakura asked flatly, already feeling the pull of the alcohol. It helped dull the pain in her body and mind. She poured herself another drink before asking, “Did you think I was just some girl who was in over her head?”
To her surprise, he shook his head, his gaze falling somewhere out the window. “No. I thought you were cold and cruel and heartless.” Then he looked at her. “But you’re not. You’re smart and cunning, and though you may not be ‘good’, you’re not evil.”
Sakura stared at him, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. Their eyes met. Holding the full attention of the other for one heartbeat. And another.
Then Itachi laughed humorlessly.
“What?” she asked.
“I want to kiss you right now. But I shouldn’t,” he said with a fleeting smile. “I don’t know what happened tonight, but-.”
Itachi never finished that sentence. Not before Sakura reached up and gripped the front of his shirt before she sealed her mouth to his.
There were a million reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this, but Itachi never voiced one. Not even when she slipped herself into his lap, her arms wrapping around his middle as her fingers dug into the back of his shirt like he was her lifeline. He, in turn, held her gently, his hands cupping her face as if she were made of dust. One slip away from falling between his fingers. Lost forever.
She could still taste the bite of tequila on his tongue as he kissed her. His mouth moving with hers only to break away to press soft kisses to her jaw and chin and the corner of her mouth. Where the bruising still lingered. His lips were careful and soft like he was trying to kiss the ache away.
She fought against the swell of emotion that built in her chest. It stung in the deepest part of her chest and in the corner of her eyes. She tried to blink it back as she pulled his lips back to hers, but it was too late. The feeling had sunken too deep.
If he noticed her tears, he didn’t mention it. Only smoothed his fingers through her hair and along her spine as she rested her head on his shoulder. Just listening to his strong, steady heartbeat beside her own as the rain pattered softly against the window. It didn’t stop until just before dawn.
A deep frown etched into the corners of her mouth. In the driver’s seat beside her, Kakashi raised his binoculars, his sights set down the street to a tavern that appeared otherwise unopened and unoccupied. They sat in a plain rental car. Only a few buildings down from the meeting point that had been provided to her. A small tavern in the middle of town.
Sakura still wasn’t certain Itachi had been the one to contact her. After all, he was dead. And so far, no one had come in or out of the pub.
“Itachi was the only one who ever messaged me that way,” she continued, her tone more withdrawn.
Kakashi lowered his sights to glance at her. “We witnessed his funeral,” he told her gently. As if she could ever forget. “If word got out about your attachment to him, it would be an easy trap for the CIA, Madara or even Kisame to set up.”
“The CIA would be most likely,” she said. “Shisui knew about our relationship and I don’t doubt he blames me for Itachi’s death. That doesn’t exactly give me a warm and fuzzy feeling. And if Itachi was alive, I don’t understand why he wouldn’t have contacted me before now.”
Kakashi didn’t reply to that and a moment of silence passed before he asked, “If it is the CIA, I wonder why they would have you meet here.”
“That’s another thing I don’t understand,” she agreed. “All of those three – the CIA, Madara and Kisame don’t have any territory here. This is neutral ground. Why ask to meet here?”
Not having an answer, he didn’t reply. Another few minutes passed before Kakashi finally asked, “So, do you not want to go in?”
Sakura inhaled a deep, silent breath. “No, I do.” Then she glanced at him. “You have my six?”
Kakashi flashed a quick smile in her direction. “I always do.”
His unwavering support steeled her nerves. Without another word, Sakura slipped out of the car. She pulled the collar of her jacket tighter around her neck as a breeze kicked up. She passed one last, purposeful gaze over the street. Other than a few pedestrians the block was empty. There weren’t even any lingering eyes in the windows.
Still, Sakura withdrew her gun as she stopped before the obviously closed tavern. She expected the front door to be locked, but the handle turned without resistance. It was utterly still inside. The door closed with an ominous, echoing thud as she shut it behind her.
The main bar was eerily silent upon her entrance, only her footsteps echoed against the polished wood as she stepped further inside. The teak chandelier was lit above her head, making the liquor bottles behind the bar flicker. In the lowlight, they looked like faces laughing at her.
Sakura turned away. She didn’t believe in ghosts.
The rest of the pub was empty. Totally and completely deserted. She didn’t understand why her mysterious stranger would send her here. It seemed like no one had been there since closing the night before.
Huffing a breath through her nose, Sakura turned back towards the door, intent on leaving when music reached her ears. It was faint, the gentle tinkle of a piano from somewhere else further inside the tavern.
Tightening the grip on her weapon, Sakura followed the sound. Towards the back of the room was another doorway. It led to a second bar that was a little smaller than the first. Off to one side, a wall of high-end liquors were lined on a the shelf behind a bar of polished mahogany. A number of square tables each with four chairs around them were set up about the main floor, all strategically placed to have a view towards an empty section of the room where a small band could set up.
In that space now was a single piano. And behind it sat Itachi.
If every cell in Sakura’s being hadn’t frozen on the spot, her gun would have slipped through her fingers and clattered to the floor. The world quit turning, the fire flickering in the fireplace stopped swaying and the tinkle of the piano faded into silence.
Itachi was here before her. He was skinnier than the last time she had seen him, the harsh contrast of shadows making his face appear more gaunt and his hair was a little shorter than before, but it was him.
Apparently, there was such thing as ghosts.
“The world becomes a dangerous place when you’re angry with it,” Itachi finally said.
As if someone had pressed play in the crescendo of a symphony, all of Sakura’s senses rushed back to her at once. Her hands trembled and she could feel the frantic beat of her heart in her chest like a bird trying to escape its cage. Noise, so much noise, filled her ears. The roar of the blood in her veins, the crackle of the fire, the tinkling of the piano. She just wanted it all to stop.
Sakura’s grip on her gun tightened until her knuckles turned white. If this wasn’t a hallucination, she didn’t want to shoot him on reflex and kill him. Again.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Immediately Itachi’s hands stilled over the keys as he looked up at her. “Are you disappointed?”
She didn’t know if it was the lighting or if it was because it had been so long since the last time she had seen him, but in that moment, he was the most handsome he had ever been. His skin was pale against the dark blue button-down shirt he wore under his jacket. His jaw and cheekbones were emphasized by the firelight, but it was his eyes that pierced through her soul and kept her rooted in place. They were like twin pools of liquid midnight.
He looked like death that had warmed over. An angel of darkness.
She had missed him so terribly. And now he was here before her. She didn’t know how, but it was true. All those sleepless nights and terrible moments of guilt and grief. Her hands shook. It took her a moment to realize it was out of anger.
“I saw your funeral,” she said accusingly. “You have a tombstone in Arlington.”
A strange expression passed over his face, as if he was grieving his own death. “The CIA thought this would be a perfect opportunity to send me deeper undercover.”
Astounded, Sakura could only stare as she relived that day. Her heart had shattered into a million different pieces and guilt had left her bedridden for nearly a week. And here he was, telling her all that she had witnessed was a lie?
“Does your family even know you’re alive?”
Again, a brief but painful look settled on his features. “Shisui and my mother do. Unfortunately to keep my brother safe, I have to keep him in the dark until my mission is complete.”
Taken aback, Sakura’s lips parted but no words escaped. It felt like someone had shoved her down onto the cold, hard concrete and kicked dirt into her face. She was full of grief and heartbreak and anger and betrayal, so full she thought all that emotion might crush her heart and explode out her chest.
When Itachi’s hands returned to the piano keys, she became even angrier. He was playing her song. And it wasn’t those shaky, four notes anymore. It was an entire verse, over and over again. That song no longer gave her an escape from reality. It reminded her of everything she’d had, could have had, and would have had if she hadn’t made her worse miscalculation of betraying Itachi. And here he was, playing her mistake right to her face.
“I don’t play anymore,” she snarled.
Itachi had just enough time to withdraw his fingers from the keys before she slammed the fallboard closed. He simply looked up at her like a parent watching their child throw a tantrum. All forced patience.
“That’s a shame. I did always enjoy watching you play.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How can you just lie to your brother like that?”
‘Lie to me.’ She didn’t say the words but they were heard just as clearly.
“I do not think you can lecture me on lying to those closest to me.”
“You should have contacted me before now!”
“I couldn’t!” Itachi suddenly snapped, all that patience gone. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the wooden bench over in his haste. He still stood a head higher over her, but she didn’t flinch away from those impossibly dark eyes. “Not without the CIA finding out. And I needed time to heal. I did almost die, that much is true. I flatlined in surgery twice and was in a coma for nearly a week. I had to put my health first.”
Sakura wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find fault with his justification. It had taken months for her shoulder to mend; it still wasn’t completely healed. Itachi would’ve had a much longer recovery time.
Automatically her eyes drifted down to his stomach, where she was certain he would have a scar to match her own. The death grip on her gun loosened before she raised her other hand towards him. To touch him and feel him; to make sure he was really there.
She pulled her hand back before her fingers grazed his shirt.
“For the last nine months, I thought I had killed you,” she said, her voice suddenly soft in the wake of Itachi’s outburst of anger.
He inhaled and exhaled a silent breath before he replied, his tone equally as quiet. “You did.”
Not physically at least. But peering up at him, she could see the heartbreak lining his expression even now. There weren’t enough people in the world that could help shoulder the weight of all her guilt.
“Why did you come back? You could have stayed dead if you really hate me so much.”
“I told you already,” Itachi said not unkindly. “I have a mission to complete.”
Sakura’s shoulders stiffened at that. It suddenly occurred to her for the first time that this mission could very well be to dispose of her. He would be the perfect assassin for the job.
The sudden urge to turn tail and run nearly overwhelmed her, but her curiosity got the better of her. She had to know.
“Which is?”
Itachi’s expression was utterly unreadable. Like a Greek God, he might as well have been carved from stone. “What I’ve been doing all along: tracking Madara. Only this time, he won’t escape.”
Relief swept through her like a torrential downpour, only to dry up as quickly as it came as Itachi continued, “Because you’re going to help me.” From his tone, she clearly heard that he was telling and not asking. “I know you have been keeping tabs on him. I know you know where he is. You owe me at least that.”
He scrutinized her patiently but expectantly, like he wouldn’t leave until he got an answer from her. Still, Sakura hesitated. She wondered what he would do if she tried to walk out; what would happen if she told him the truth. Would things go back to the way they were, or would he disappear on her again as he hunted down his target?
“Madara’s in Hong Kong. He’s been there for the last four months.”
Itachi stilled, as if surprised she had told him without more persuasion on his part. Then he did the last thing she expected him to do. He cupped her face with both hands and bent his head until he sealed his mouth to hers.
It took Sakura by surprise, but she reacted an instant later, her eyes falling closed as she reached up with her empty hand to grip the open fold of his jacket to tug him closer. Itachi wasn’t gentle by any means. His kiss was bruising, putting all his emotions into that single action. His anger and heartbreak, but also his desperation and sorrow. It made her realize that he had missed her as much, if not more than she had missed him.
When Itachi finally pulled back, they were both panting slightly, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. He reached up to smooth her hair away from her face, his gaze tracking the action before his eyes dropped back to hers.
Then his expression hardened. “If you ever pull that shit on me again, we are going to have a problem.”
Even with his warning, Sakura couldn’t resist the corner of her mouth twitching in the start of a smirk. She trusted Itachi would follow through with his threat should she try to mislead him again, but she wasn’t concerned. Because if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that she wouldn’t let Itachi go again.
She holstered her gun before smiling up at him innocently. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
A vaguely disbelieving expression crossed Itachi’s face before he released a defeated sigh – as if he was just realizing for the first time that he was in love with an asshole. Even so, he kissed her again, only pausing some minutes later for Sakura to send Kakashi a text telling him not to wait for her.
Because she was going to spend the rest of the night with the man in front of her. And tomorrow, they would work on taking down the bastard known as Uchiha Madara.
end.
xx
So, this is the happiest ending I could give. It’s not really a happy ending cause all the shit they’ve been through, they’re going to go through again. But for now, they’re happy.
This wasn’t the original ending I had for the story. Originally, I wanted to write a sequel that had Itachi coming back much later to hunt down Madara. Together, Sakura and Itachi catch and kill him, but while protecting Itachi, Sakura gets killed. And that’s how it ends, but I don’t have as much time to write as I used to, and I did lose motivation with this story.
That being said, I still love this story and I’m happy with how it came out. Thank you everyone for your continued support. To those of you who have been with me since chapter one and those of you who just came across this fic, thank you for your reviews. They are incredibly motivating and I cannot say enough how much I appreciate them.
Still to come:
Not the Only One - MadaSaku/TobiSaku (continuation)
It was raining again. Water fell from the sky, pelting the ground and speckling the glass of the store fronts lining the sidewalks. Inside a little coffeehouse a few blocks from the city center, Sakura sipped her mocha as she watched the sky attempt to drown the earth beneath it.
The little shop wasn’t terribly large. Just big enough for a few tables. She sat by herself while the rest of the room was occuied by a group of young, high school-aged locals. They chatted animatedly in rapid German; their laughter only broken up by the tinkling of the bell above the front door.
Sakura didn’t look up as the chair across from her was pulled back before a man in a raincoat sat down. Kakashi pushed his hood back before he let out a relieved sigh, obviously happy to be out of the rain. He ordered a plain Americano from the waitress and waited to speak until she brought it out to him in a large porcelain coffee mug similar to Sakura’s.
“How did your meeting with your contact go?” Kakashi asked before he taste-tested his drink.
“As well as could be expected,” she replied. When he shot her a curious look, she explained with a faint glare. “He was more interested into getting into my pants then talking actual business.”
“Which is why you choose to work with women,” Kakashi provided.
Sakura tipped her head. “Still, he proved to be of some use. As it turns out he knows of someone who wants to begin moving product into New York.”
“Oh?”
“Her name is Karin. She’s a Russian dealer out of Moscow. She smart and crafty, but she’s been busy fighting other dealers within the country to branch out.”
Kakashi’s brow arched in surprise. “You’ve been watching her a while then.”
“Almost a year,” she nodded.
“She shows promise then.”
Sakura hummed her agreement as she drank from her now-lukewarm mug. “I’m not ready to introduce myself yet though. She has some in-house cleaning to do before she can consider branching out. Until then, I’ll keep watch from a distance. Ino thinks Karin would help Tenten keep up with her orders.”
“That would ease the flow of product out of Cairo too,” Kakashi said.
Sakura nodded again, her gaze distant as her mind worked through the ins and outs of her business. There had been some Egyptian Federal Agents poking around her eastern port lately. They were moving so much product it was beginning to draw the eyes of the government; something she needed to shut down soon.
“Is your shoulder bothering you again?” Kakashi asked abruptly.
Confused, Sakura realized she had been massaging her shoulder through her sweatshirt where Izuna had shot her nine months ago. It ached on cool days or when she sat still for too long. And when she allowed her mind to wander…
She dropped her hand. “It’s fine.”
Kakashi obviously wasn’t convinced, but she continued before he could press her. “Any word on Kisame?”
The ex-Marine observed her for a long moment before he finally shook his head. Sakura didn’t know if she was more relieved or disappointed. Kakashi had spent the last few months bouncing between Egypt and Israel, mostly keeping an eye on Temari’s operations and checking in with the latest news in Tel Aviv. If there was any news on Kisame, Kakashi would have heard.
“Temari hasn’t seen or heard anything from him since he arrived in Cairo nine months ago,” Kisame said. “He likely scouted out what became of Akatsuki in Egypt before he returned to Israel. He’s been underground since then.”
“Hopefully he got another assignment,” she murmured, none too hopeful. Sakura didn’t doubt Kisame still had it out for her. Especially since their last meeting had ended on less than friendly terms.
“Speaking of another assignment, you’re heading back to New York almost two weeks earlier than you planned,” Kakashi said, absently stirring his coffee. “What’re you working on?”
“Nothing in particular. Tenten is looking to recruit more men. Her influence is spreading faster than either of us anticipated.”
“Tenten has the money and resources to handle that on her own,” he said in confusion.
“Yes, but I want to be there to remind her who provided her all her new territory,” Sakura said, just a hint of sharpness entering her tone. “Tenten and I get along just fine, but she plays by her own rules. I don’t want her forgetting this is my game.”
Kakashi considered that with a single side-nod, as if to say he agreed with her reasoning.
Sakura fell quiet after that, her mind running through the errands and projects that needed her attention when she returned to the States. She needed to meet with Tenten, check in on Ino, and Sakura tended to have this habit of dropping by Tobirama’s. Purely to get an update on his numbers, or so she told herself.
“What time does your flight leave?” Kakashi asked.
Sakura checked her watch. “Four hours from now.”
“Do you want me to join you or do you need me to check in on Temari again?”
Whatever Sakura was about to say fell forgotten as she heard Itachi laugh somewhere behind her. Abruptly she jerked her head to the sound, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. Only for her gaze to land upon another man. He was a young American, about Itachi’s age with a deep laugh like he used to have.
Not for the first time, Sakura forced herself to remember Itachi was gone, he’s dead. She had stood on the hill in Arlington nearly nine months ago as they lowered his casket into the ground. His entire family lined the front row of mourners, including Shisui and someone Sakura recognized from a photo on the mantle above Itachi’s fireplace: Sasuke, his younger brother.
Then they had stamped the newly dug earth with a name plate. Sakura had only visited it once.
Still, Itachi haunted her. She heard his voice in crowded places and felt his touch in her dreams. She wondered when she would ever stop thinking about him.
“Sakura?”
At the call of her name, she turned her gaze back to Kakashi. There was an expectant look on his face that reminded her he was waiting for an answer.
“Check in on Temari,” Sakura finally replied. “If the police aren’t poking around again, come join me in New York.”
With that decided, they finished their coffee and stood to leave. Under the awning, Kakashi told her he’d keep in touch and to update him on the situation in New York. She nodded her assent and waited until he was out of sight before she dared glance back at the coffeehouse.
A dull ache rose in her chest, but she inhaled and exhaled quickly, pushing the feeling away as she turned her back on the café. She had a plane to catch.
xx
Queens, New York, United States of America
As soon as she landed, Sakura made her way to Tobirama’s mansion. It was late when she arrived. The stars were already out and a bright, full moon illuminated the sky even against the polluting city lights.
As usual, the guard let her pass. She drove up the circle drive and parked out front. Immediately a staff member greeted her and accepted her car keys to park her vehicle in the garage. The butler answered the door before she had even started ascending the entrance stairs. In the doorway, he accepted her coat without anything more than a polite ‘good evening’.
Tobirama greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. His brow arched curiously. “You’re here early.” Then he glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist. “Nearly two weeks early.”
She cocked her head, a smirk lingering in the corner of her mouth. “Should I come back later?”
His gaze lingered on her a moment. Then the corner of his lips flickered up into a smirk before he grabbed her and roughly sealed his mouth over hers. They stumbled to the bedroom, bumping pictures on the wall and tripping over discarded clothes until Tobirama hoisted her onto his hips. Her legs wrapped around his waist before her back hit the wall just inside the bedroom door.
A sound between a gasp and a moan ripped out of her throat as he lined himself up. Then he settled deep inside her, allowing gravity to do its job as his fingers bruised her thighs. Sakura wasn’t even sure if he had closed the door behind them, but she couldn’t care less as he started a hard, fast rhythm. Her head fell back against the wall as he buried himself into a particularly sensitive spot, her breathy moan turning into something sharper as his teeth bit into the soft skin of her neck.
Then Sakura retaliated. Her fingers tangled into his hair, jerking his head back before she crushed her mouth to his. She wasn’t sure if she had missed him, but she was certain she missed this, and she tightened her legs around his waist to pull him closer.
Their battle lasted until climax. Sakura came with an unmuffled cry before Tobirama carried her to the bed. He finished inside her before he rolled off to rest on the bed beside her. Sakura didn’t move until her breath evened out and the sweat on her skin began to make her feel cold and sticky. Without a word, she pushed herself to her feet before she made her way to the joined bathroom.
Inside, Sakura took a quick shower and wrapped herself up in one of the plush towels on the rack before she paused in front the mirror. Steam clung to the surface and she wiped it away with her hand, only pausing when she caught sight of the ugly, circular scar on her shoulder just below her collarbone. It had healed well after the surgery and would fade more with time, but it was a stark reminder of what had happened thatday.
Sakura turned away before the memories could surface. She rubbed some lotion onto her legs and ran a brush through her hair before returning to the bedroom.
Her bag had appeared in the hall just outside the door and she brought it inside before dug out her computer bag. Tobirama was still in bed, his own laptop open in his lap.
“How was Cairo?” Tobirama asked.
He didn’t look up at her as she settled on the far side of the bed, one leg bent at the knee in front of her while the other hung off the side of the mattress.
“Boring,” Sakura replied as she booted up her system. “Temari has a pretty good handle on everything happening over there.”
Tobirama side-eyed her. “So, what did you do for the last month?”
“Hung out at the beach. Drank frilly drinks.”
“You’re not the kind to drink frilly drinks,” Tobirama said flatly.
Sakura couldn’t resist her smile. The man was right about that. “I went to Germany.”
Just as she expected, he blinked in confusion. “What the fuck is in Germany?”
“A contact,” she replied, unfazed by his language. “You remember how I said I might be able to get a line into Russia? There’s someone in Moscow that might be willing to start trading into New York.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, but why meet in Germany?”
“Because that’s where he lived. I don’t fucking know. We just did,” she said, attitude creeping into her voice.
Tobirama was hardly put off by her tone. He didn’t look up from his computer as he asked, “So now what?”
“Now we wait to see if this new dealer contacts me,” she shrugged, her eyes turning down to her computer as her finance software loaded up. “It might take a little while, but I think I have what she wants.”
On the other side of the bed, Tobirama cocked his head. “Which is what?”
“Guns, money, power. Exactly what every other woman wants.”
He shot her an odd look as if to say he doubted that was what every woman wanted, but Sakura ignored him. Instead, she turned down to her work, double checking her accounts and her gun stores.
She was still balancing her finances when her phone went off a little while later. She picked up her phone absentmindedly, saving her work before she glanced at the caller ID. Instantly, she froze. The number was unsaved in her contacts, but she knew who was on the other end.
Orochimaru.
Closing her computer, Sakura stood from the bed. She picked up the call, but didn’t speak into the receiver as she grabbed the first article of clothing she found off the floor. It was Tobirama’s shirt. Quickly she slipped it on over her head before she left the room, closing the door behind her.
In the hall, a maid passed by. She nodded respectfully at Sakura before she quickly retreated down the other end to give her privacy. Sakura hardly even glanced in her direction. The staff were already used to seeing her half-naked, if not fully, by now.
As soon as Sakura was sure she was alone, she held the phone to her ear. “What?”
“Well isn’t that an unpleasant greeting. Shall we try again?” Orochimaru replied cheerfully. When Sakura remained silent, he huffed. “Fine, be that way. I believe you know why I’m calling.”
“You want to collect my debt.”
“Smart and beautiful,” he chuckled.
Sakura resisted the urge to growl. “What do you want?”
“And straight to the point,” he complained. “Very well. There is a man named Inuzuka Kiba. He’s a drug runner that I want taken care of. He’s mostly a ghost, but he commonly does his business in-”
“Moscow,” she finished.
She heard Orochimaru’s surprise through the phone. “You know him?”
“I know of him,” she said vaguely. “Why do you want him gone?”
“Oh darling,” he chuckled too fondly. “When I cleaned up your mess in New Jersey, did I ask any questions?”
A glare settled across her expression, but she forced it away with a sigh. As much as she hated Orochimaru, he had a point. And taking care of Kiba might actually earn her a favor in Russia.
“Consider it done,” she eventually said.
“Excellent.”
Orochimaru hung up then, but Sakura didn’t immediately return to the bedroom as she weighed her options. She hadn’t exactly been planning on moving into Russia so soon, but with Orochimaru’s orders, she had no choice.
After another minute, Sakura finally returned to the bedroom. Tobirama was still sitting where she had left him, computer on his lap. He glanced up at her briefly when she paused beside the bed, her phone still spinning slowly in her hand as she thought.
“What is it?” he asked.
Blinking her thoughts away, Sakura tossed her phone down onto the bed. “Remember how I wanted to go to Russia?”
“Yeah.”
“Turns out we’re going earlier than I planned.”
Tobirama arched his brow in surprise. “When?”
“Next week.”
Xx
Moscow, Russia
Music filled the ballroom. It drifted from the orchestra down below and rose up into the high ceiling. Men and women were dressed in expensive evening attire with glasses of champagne and whiskey in their hands provided by passing servers.
From the second floor, Sakura stood shadowed on a balcony overlooking the elegant party. The faint murmur of conversation reached her ears, but from her distance she couldn’t make out their words. Especially not when they were laced with such heavy Russian accents.
Like a hawk hunting her prey, Sakura watched the party-goers mingle with a calculating gaze, her eyes sharpened with black eyeliner. The people below looked like business men and women, and perhaps most of them were, but her sights were set on one.
Karin.
The beautiful woman stood out in her sparkling, silver dress. The material brushed her ankles, but it hugged her bust and curvy waist, the bits of crystal in her dress sparkling against the giant chandelier overhead. Her red hair spilled over her shoulder in silky curls, her bangs framing her youthful face. She was only a few years older than Sakura, but even she had to admit Karin was doing well in the Russian Underground. Especially now that Kiba was out of the picture.
“Is she ready?” a voice asked.
Sakura didn’t turn her gaze away from Karin as Tobirama came to a stop beside her. The woman below them was fingering a flute of champagne, but Sakura had been keeping an eye on her for near that of an hour. It was only her second glass.
“Not quite,” Sakura replied. “Perhaps after another drink.”
“Should I warm her up for you then?”
Sakura turned her gaze away to peer at Tobirama then. There was a reason she had invited him to come along with her. He looked dashing in his black-on-black suit. The color was normally slimming, but this particular outfit made Tobirama’s shoulders broader, his muscles more apparent. Dangerous without being overly intimidating.
He really was an attractive man with his dark eyes and grey hair. Under the shadows of the balcony, the ridges of his cheekbones were emphasized, the cut of his jaw stronger. He was a silver fox. Exactly the type of man Karin was attracted to.
Sakura smoothed her hand over one side of his collar, pressing it down firmer. Then she smiled. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get acquainted.”
Tobirama smirked faintly, the harsh shadows making it appear more cruel, before he slipped away. Sakura tracked him as he descended the stairs and slipped through the crowd until he was standing beside Karin. He took her hand as he introduced himself, bowing slightly as he raised the back of her hand towards his mouth. He didn’t kiss her skin, but he came close in a polite greeting.
Sakura hadn’t told Tobirama she was using his charm to gain a hearing with Karin, but he had always been smart. Sakura didn’t put it past Tobirama to have figured it out himself.
From her shadowed vantage point, Sakura watched the pair like a predator. Tobirama flirted with Karin seamlessly, bold but not abrasive. His intentions obvious but unapologetic. The red-haired woman fed on it. From her research, Sakura knew Karin had been starved for attention in her childhood. And who better than Tobirama to give all of his to her now.
Sakura continued to stand there until Tobirama’s gaze briefly flickered in her direction. A silent cue that Karin was ready for her now.
Stepping away from the balcony, Sakura adjusted the shoulder of her black evening gown, ensuring it covered the scarring on her shoulder. At the same time, her phone pinged in her clutch purse, a stark reminder to mute the device before she went into this meeting.
Fetching her phone, Sakura unlocked the screen to silence her ringer when she saw an unusual text message: a simple location with a date and time. It was from an unknown number, but the description was oddly familiar. There was only one person who ever texted her like that:
The first time Sakura awoke, everything was hazy. Like she was in a thick fog, her head filled with clouds. There were voices just beyond and a beeping nearby that seemed to reverberate through her skull. Bright lights shined in her eyes, but she couldn’t find the strength to shield her vision from it. Then she faded out again.
The next time Sakura opened her eyes, her surroundings were much clearer. She was still groggy, her dreams and reality dancing on the same line until she didn’t know what was real and what was her imagination. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings, but when she finally blinked into focus, she instantly recognized the hospital room.
Like a knee-jerk reaction, adrenaline filled Sakura’s veins as she recalled brief flashes of the port. But one glance down at her hands and she saw they were free of handcuffs. She hadn’t been caught by the CIA.
What did catch her notice was she was no longer wearing a Kevlar vest. Instead, she had been changed into a standard hospital gown. There was a sheet tucked around her middle to keep her legs warm and an IV inserted into her arm. It was connected to a bag with a clear liquid inside, likely just fluids. And perhaps pain killers, she realized after a sharp ache lanced through her shoulder when she tried to move her arm.
Pulling back the collar of her gown, Sakura found the left side of her upper body was wrapped in bandages. Post-surgery. At least someone had removed the bullet. Though, she would need to get out of the hospital soon before the police were called and she was questioned. If they hadn’t been called already.
That’s when Sakura realized she was alone. Where was Kakashi?
Through the clear, sliding doors, she could see the nurses’ station down the hall. There were two nurses there now, but they were busy with paperwork. She watched them until the television on the wall behind the desk caught her attention. It was playing the morning news.
From her distance, she couldn’t read the captions, but the channel was showing a helicopter view of the warehouse in Newark. It was still dark, just before dawn, the shipping yard lit up by a handful of overhead spotlights as red and blue police lights flashed. The video was at least a few hours old. Just outside the hospital window, the sun was already peeking above the horizon.
In that moment, Sakura remembered Itachi. Her heartrate and blood pressure spiked as she recalled the blood that had been gathering around him while she had been forced to watch on, unable to help. She worried what had become of him, where he was now.
Pushing herself up in bed, Sakura searched the room for her personal items, specifically her phone. She could call Kakashi or Shikamaru. It would be the fastest way to learn if there had been any casualties in the CIA’s raid.
However, before Sakura could move to get out of bed, the door to her room slid open. Automatically she glanced towards the sound, only to freeze as she recognized the person in the doorway.
Tsunade.
Her adopted mother was exactly how Sakura remembered her. She had long, blonde hair she had pulled back away from her face with the exception of a few strands that had escaped to frame her intelligent, hazel eyes. Tsunade was approaching sixty now, but her youthful face didn’t look a day over fifty. She exuded authority and professionalism in her white doctor’s coat, and in that instant, Sakura suddenly knew exactly where she was. Tsunade’s hospital.
Her adopted mother didn’t immediately speak as she stepped into the room flanked by two younger doctors, likely interns, but her expression was stern and clear: Sakura was to say nothing.
“I see you are finally awake,” Tsunade said, her voice calm and professional. As if they were complete strangers. “Are you in any pain, Ms….?”
“Johnson,” Sakura replied after a small hesitation. “Sarah Johnson.” The most vague American name she could think of in that moment.
Tsunade glanced at one of her interns, ensuring the young male doctor wrote the name down in her file before she returned her attention to Sakura. “How’s your pain now?”
“Manageable,” Sakura replied on autopilot. She was still stunned to see her adopted mother before her so suddenly after these last few years of radio silence. Sakura couldn’t tear her eyes away.
As if Tsunade was simply her surgeon, she stepped forward and began going through a normal examination of Sakura’s injury, post-surgery. “You had some nasty shrapnel to your shoulder, but I was able to successfully remove all of it. The man who brought you in said you were hit by debris from a car accident across the street. Unfortunate place and time.”
Sakura wondered what the actual chances of that happening were. It was probably the first thing Kakashi had thought of when the ER nurses had asked what happened. Sakura knew Tsunade knew it was a lie too. Her adopted mother was smart enough to know a fragmented bullet when she saw one, but she was lying to keep Sakura’s cover. Both their covers. It was a lie to keep the police at bay.
“Do you know where he is now?” Sakura asked.
“I believe getting coffee. He should return shortly,” Tsunade answered, examining the line in her IV for kinks. “The damage to your shoulder was fortunately minimal, but it will take several weeks to heal and some months of physical therapy to regain full use.”
Tsunade turned away from her then, continuing her examination as she spoke to the interns, asking them questions and teaching them as she went along. All the while, Sakura kept her gaze on her, as if afraid if she even so much as blinked too long, Tsunade would vanish right before her eyes.
After a few minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours, the interns finally left. The room lapsed into silence as Tsunade scribbled notes down into her chart.
Eventually, Tsunade closed Sakura’s chart. She capped her pen and slipped it into the front pocket of her coat before she finally met Sakura’s gaze. “I’ve kept your gunshot wound quiet, but someone will recognize the injury soon. You need to leave before the police are called.”
Sakura barely heard her. “Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you in over three years.”
“You had your mission,” Tsunade replied, her hazel eyes unaffected. “The rest was for you to finish.”
“And you didn’t think I might need support to do that?” Sakura asked, her confusion evident. “I’ve been calling you. For months now. Why didn’t you answer?”
“I taught you everything. I trained you to the best of my abilities. There was nothing more I could have done.”
Sakura let out a laugh that was more incredulous and exasperated than humorous. “You could have been there.”
“You were always meant to complete your mission alone.”
Her cold tone startled Sakura. She gave pause as Tsunade simply stared at her as if Sakura was nothing more than a boring piece of art. Slowly, one-by-one, the pieces began clicking into place. Cold dread filled Sakura as it dawned on her that she had put herself, Kakashi, Ino, Itachi in danger for a woman who saw her as nothing but a means to an end.
“You told Hashirama that you wanted a daughter, but he didn’t give me to you because you couldn’t have children,” Sakura said, her voice accusatory but calm compared to the raging storm building within her. “You wanted someone to train. Someone to take care of Hashirama because you couldn’t do it yourself. Not without getting caught.”
Tsunade’s face might as well have been carved from stone. “You did as directed. You completed your orders. You are released.”
Those words were like a slap across the face, but Sakura wasn’t given the chance to reply when the door to the room slid open again. It was Kakashi. He looked relieved to see her alert and conscious before he sensed the tension emanating from her. Concern briefly flickered behind his eyes before his gaze shifted to Tsunade.
She barely acknowledged him. Merely stepped towards the bed to mute the alarms on Sakura’s monitor before she slipped the IV out of her arm. “Don’t allow the nurses to see you when you leave,” Tsunade told her.
Then she was gone. Out the door and out of Sakura’s life. Perhaps forever.
Sakura could only sit there, her mouth slack and her eyes unfocused as she tried to process what had just happened. How everything she had believed her entire life could have shredded right before her eyes. It felt surreal, like a dream she couldn’t escape from.
White, hot anger flooded her heart and filled her veins like lightning. Betrayal stung like acid in her chest. She wanted to punch something, shoot something. Her fingers itched to wrap around the grip of a gun. She wanted to burn New York City to the ground.
Then, like a bubble, all that rage popped until she was left with nothing but a sinking sadness that buried deeper and deeper into her soul. It wrapped around her like a blanket, tumbling so deep she didn’t know if the feeling would ever leave her.
All those memories of her childhood burned bright in her mind’s eye. The smile on Tsunade’s face when she had brought Sakura home for the first time, her words of encouragement when Sakura failed and the pride in Tsunade’s eyes when she had succeeded. Grief sunk into Sakura’s chest like a heavy stone as she realized it had all been a lie. Tsunade had groomed Sakura to love and adore her until Sakura would do anything for the woman who had rescued her.
Sakura was certain she would have sat there in that hospital room, stuck in that single moment for the rest of her life, had the faint echo of footsteps not broken through her thoughts. She blinked back to herself as Kakashi stopped beside her bed. He looked like he wanted to reach out, but thought better of it.
“You okay?” he asked.
Sakura opened her mouth but not even a breath escaped. She didn’t know if he meant physically or mentally, but it didn’t matter. They needed to leave.
“We should get out of here,” Sakura said instead, suddenly itching to be out from this cramped, suffocating room.
A ghost of a frown crossed his mouth, but then it was gone as he slipped the backpack off his shoulder she hadn’t realized he had been carrying until now. Inside were a change of her clothes. He steadied her as she slipped into her jeans and shirt, the latter task he had to help her with after she realized she couldn’t lift her arm more than a few inches without a great deal of pain. He hung her jacket over her shoulders, leaving her sleeves empty before he collected the rest of her things.
Then together, they slipped out of the hospital unnoticed.
xx
The pair drove in silence for some time. The hospital was over twenty miles out of New York City. Sakura didn’t ask why Kakashi had taken her specifically to Tsunade. Had Sakura gone anywhere else the police would have been called, she would have been questioned and it would have led to a series of headaches that were best avoided from the beginning.
In the quiet, her mind rolled like heavy, thunder clouds. She replayed her conversation over with Tsunade, that piping hot rage sitting in her stomach like boiling water. Only to give way as her last moments with Itachi filled her memory. The hurt and betrayal and heartbreak in his eyes. She wondered if he had felt like she did now. Learning he had been used, he had been played.
Her stomach twisted sharply. The question of his fate hung heavy on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t find the courage to ask, afraid of the answer. Instead, she asked another burning question.
“What happened? After I was shot.”
Kakashi didn’t glance at her as he took the juncture to the next highway. “The CIA successfully took down Akatsuki. Everyone not killed was rounded up and arrested. Your plan to take out the major members of Akatsuki was a significant part in allowing the CIA to success. None of them showed with their men. Tobirama, Tenten and whoever else you called got them all. Everyone is dead but Kisame. He escaped to Egypt.”
Sakura hummed at that. “Call Temari. I want eyes on him.”
“You think he’ll retaliate against you for trying to kill him?”
“Not on American soil, but yes.”
Kakashi hummed his agreement. Then after a brief silence, he asked, “What about here? The Underground is in chaos. Now would be the perfect time to claim it.”
She fell quiet as she considered that. With Akatsuki in shambles and Hashirama dead, the Underground had a lot of availability now. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to take over the Eastern Coast. Which she was going to do. Just not in the way Kakashi was expecting.
“Tell Tobirama to take control of Hashirama’s assets. Tenten can have whatever territory is left over.”
Kakashi shot her a look of surprise. “Why would you do that?” When she replied with a meaningful glance, it dawned on him. “Because then they both owe you favors. You can control the Eastern Coast without having to manage it yourself.”
Sakura hummed her agreement.
“Then what will you do?” he asked.
Sakura thought about her next statement carefully. She thought about Tsunade’s parting words, feeling that painful betrayal again. “I want you to spread the word that Tsunade is dead.”
Kakashi glanced at her sharply until the tires bumped over the lane dividers on the highway. He jerked the wheel to straighten their course. “What? After all this, you’re giving everything up?”
She shook her head. “No, just her,” she said. Her voice was soft but she wasn’t able to completely keep the bitterness out of her voice. “From now on, I will be known as Sakura. I won’t give Tsunade the credit any longer.”
He peered in her direction again but said nothing as they continued their drive. The pain in Sakura’s shoulder was beginning to worsen as the drugs faded, but it paled in comparison to the ache in her chest, until she could no longer stand not knowing.
“Where’s Itachi?” she asked quietly.
A heavy silence passed before Kakashi answered, “He was taken to a hospital under the CIA’s protection. I spoke to my contacts there. He’s alive,” he said, causing hope to bloom in her chest. It died on his next words. “But he’s in a coma. He took a bullet to the stomach. They don’t know how well he’ll recover yet or if he’ll even…”
“Or if he’ll even wake up,” Sakura finished, feeling that hole in her heart slowly rip open little-by-little.
Kakashi peered at her, but she didn’t dare look at him. She couldn’t stand his pity at the moment. “I’m sorry, Sakura.”
“Don’t be,” she murmured. “This is my fault. I did this.”
They didn’t speak the rest of the way to Sakura’s apartment. Simply sat in silence as Kakashi steered them across the bridge and back into New York. Before them, the impressive skyline towered on the horizon, but Sakura didn’t see. She was numb to the world around her. Exhausted, both physically and mentally.
It was only once her door opened that Sakura realized they were parked in her underground garage. Kakashi helped her out of her seat before he adjusted her jacket around her shoulders to hide the bulky bandages, lest anyone should pass them.
Blindly, Sakura allowed Kakashi to lead her through the building until they reached her apartment. Kakashi unlocked the door and closed it behind them as Sakura kicked off her shoes. She said nothing as she made a beeline for her bed, letting her jacket drop somewhere on the floor before she slipped under the covers.
Kakashi was at her side a minute later with a spare bottle of prescription pain meds she kept in her medicine cabinet. She popped two in her mouth and greedily sucked down the bottle of water he handed her before she curled up on her uninjured side, her back to him. He simply pulled the covers around her.
“Can I get you anything else?” Kakashi murmured.
Sakura thought of Itachi, but the image of him lying in some government hospital unconscious and hooked up to life support stole her voice. Swallowing, she shook her head. “No.”
She vaguely heard him set something on her nightstand. A moment later, she realized it was her cell phone. “Call me if you need me.”
She said nothing in reply. Merely stared at the wall on the other side of her bed as she listened to Kakashi’s footsteps cross the room before the deadbolt slid back into place.
Sakura didn’t know how long she laid there. The meds took the worst of the bite out of her injury and exhaustion weighed on her like a physical weight, but her mind refused to rest. Her thoughts kept replaying the events at the warehouse. She wondered how she could have changed things, what she could have done differently, but the look on Itachi’s face wouldn’t leave her. It was burned into her mind.
What had she done?
Curling further into herself, Sakura opened her mouth to let out a heavy sigh. What escaped instead was a shuddering breath. And before she could stop it, a wave of emotion washed through her, picking her up and sweeping her out the sea before the currents pulled her under. Her anguish spilled out of her until it clogged her throat and made it near impossible to breathe, filling every corner of her empty apartment.
Or so she thought.
For from the living room, Kakashi said silently on the couch. He listened to each sob that echoed from the bedroom, until the sun was high and exhaustion finally overcame them both. It would be nearly sunrise before they would wake again.
xx
Three weeks later…
Sakura blew the steam off her coffee mug. She waited until it was cool enough not to burn her tongue before she finally took a sip and deemed the flavor to her liking.
Inside the coffeehouse, businessmen and women were hurrying in and out. The little shop was tucked between a large bank and a high rise of offices, making it a popular stop for those on their way into a meeting. A woman stopped beside Sakura and dumped in an unhealthy amount of cream and sugar before she quickly left, apparently running late for something.
With her shoulder still recovering, Sakura had to do most things one-handed. She set her to-go cup down on the counter before she snapped the lid over the top. Before leaving, she checked her phone.
There was a new message from Tenten. She was still on time to getting her shipments dropped off. Tobirama would be back in town tonight to update Sakura on the other shipments leaving Cairo. His plane was to land a few hours after sundown.
Satisfied, Sakura pocketed her phone again before she grabbed her coffee and made for the exit. A man in a nice business suit held the door for her, smiling something a little too friendly as he looked her purposely. Sakura was hardly fazed. She merely returned the smile before she slipped by without a word.
On the sidewalk, she paused to look for Kakashi’s car as she took a sip of her coffee. She didn’t know where Kakashi had gone in the morning rush, but she waited patiently. Ever since he had picked her up from the hospital, he had hardly left her side. He would be there soon.
Lowering her coffee cup, Sakura gazed about the downtown streets lazily. After a few minutes with no sight of Kakashi, she made to shuffle her coffee into her still-healing arm to pull out her phone when something caught her eye.
No, not something. Someone.
It was Shisui. He was standing across the busy street, leaning against the side of a sleek, black Lexus. She recognized it as Itachi’s. But it wasn’t the car that caught her notice. It was Shisui himself. He looked terrible. Absolutely haggard with dark circles under his eyes and his skin a little too pale, even for a New Yorker. He looked like he hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten in weeks.
And like a candle blowing out in the wind, the warmth left Sakura’s body. She knew what had happened.
They had pulled the plug on Itachi.
She couldn’t explain how she knew it from that single look from Shisui, but she was absolutely certain. Itachi was gone.
As if someone had pressed pause on the television, everything stilled. The people around them, the cars on the city streets. The entire world stopped and held its breath.
Then Shisui turned away and slipped into Itachi’s Lexus. Without a single word, he simply drove away, leaving Sakura alone on the busy sidewalk, the coffee in her cup tasting like mud and ash. The grey city seemed to become even dimmer, like all color had drained out of the world.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sakura pushed herself to focus on her work, getting shipments ordered, organized and delivered. Her day was over before she realized it and she was forced to face her new reality.
She sent Kakashi away. He had been confused but he didn’t deny her request, and for the first time since she had been shot, Sakura was alone.
She sat in the kitchen chair she had pulled up to the window and sipped on tequila as she tried her best not to think about the shirt in the back of her closet – the one that smelled like Itachi – until suddenly, she realized she was drunk. Apparently, chain-drinking did that.
The urge to give in, to wrap herself up in the last bit of clothing that reminded her of his gentle kisses and tender touch, nearly overwhelmed her, and likely would have if her phone hadn’t abruptly pinged.
It was from Tobirama. He had landed.
Suddenly, Sakura had a far worse idea.
Less than an hour later, a taxi dropped Sakura off in Queens in front of a large house with tall, iron gates. The guard had let her in on-sight, allowing the driver to pull up the well-lit, circular drive to stop before the great mansion.
As Sakura stepped out of the cab, she admired the home. Tobirama had made a few modifications, including more lights that accentuated the stone work. It looked much classier than when Hashirama had lived there.
At the door, a butler greeted her and accepted her jacket. He made himself scarce when Tobirama appeared at the banister and descended the stairs. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he had changed into a grey sweater and a nice pair of cotton, white pants after his flight. Something comfortable but classy lest someone dropped in late. Someone like her.
“Sakura,” Tobirama greeted. His tone was welcoming but obviously curious. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Is everything alright?”
She had tried to fill the gaping hole in her chest with tequila, but she smiled nonetheless, hoping she appeared more sober than she felt. “Yes. I hope I’m not intruding.”
His confusion lingered, but he gestured for her to follow him anyway. He led her to the very den she had sat with Hashirama before. Only now it felt different. Less intimidating and more focused. Like an actual office should be.
Inside, a maid was dusting a tall painting of a beautiful forest with horses grazing in the middle. As soon as the worker saw them enter, she quickly stepped off her stool and excused herself, taking the folding steps with her.
Sakura didn’t pay her much mind. Instead she gazed at the painting as she briefly wondered what its significance was. It certainly hadn’t been there while Hashirama lived there, but the thought was fleeting. She turned away when she heard Tobirama pull out two crystal glasses before he poured a couple of fingers in each.
Only after they made themselves comfortable on the lush, leather couch across the room did he finally ask, “Are you really so keen to know how my trip to Egypt went?”
Frankly, Sakura couldn’t care less about Cairo at the moment, but for pretenses, she inclined her head.
They sipped their whiskey as Tobirama updated her. He informed her of Temari’s success in seamlessly taking over Akatsuki’s old territory and contacts, and Tobirama’s latest attempt to track down Madara’s whereabouts. Of course, it had led to another dead end like it had for the last several weeks.
“I know the bastard was there,” Tobirama told her, a small frown on his lips. “But he slipped out before I could track him down.”
“Do you suspect where he went?” she asked.
“Hong Kong.”
Sakura hummed in reply as she sipped more of her drink. The whiskey settled warmly in her stomach, but it did nothing to ease the cold in her chest.
“Once I get my shipments squared away here, I can go there and follow his trail-”
“No,” she shook her head, much to Tobirama’s surprise. “Let him stay there.”
His brows furrowed. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Madara has contacts there that neither of us have. If we go after him, he’ll have us killed on-sight,” she told him, briefly studying the amber liquid in her glass. “There’s one thing I’m certain of and it’s that Madara wants both of us dead; for what we did to Akatsuki and for what we did to Izuna. Let him come to us when he finally decides he can’t live in a world with us in it. For now, he can rot in his hole.”
She finished her statement by swallowing the rest of her drink in one large gulp. Then she stood to place the glass on the desk, out of the way.
“And in the meantime, what do we do?” Tobirama asked.
Sakura turned back around to face him upon his question. She didn’t reply as she eyed him, taking in his relaxed form as he lounged on the leather sofa. The hand grasping his whiskey rested on the arm of the couch while the other rested beside his thigh.
In this setting, he was more handsome than she could ever remember him being. Money looked good on him. And so did she, she decided.
“I’m sure we can think of something,” Sakura replied. Her hand skimmed up the front of her blouse until she found the top button. Then she popped it open.
Tobirama’s glass stilled halfway to his mouth as she approached him. Automatically his gaze was drawn to her cleavage as it was slowly exposed to his viewing. He swallowed thickly before he made a point of meeting her gaze.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice carefully controlled.
Sakura shot him a look as if he had asked the dumbest question in the world before she dropped her shirt to the floor and slipped into his lap. Even with only her lacy, wine-colored bra keeping her decent, his eyes never left hers. He stubbornly kept his hands by his sides.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Sakura countered smoothly.
Something akin to a scowl crossed his face. “I thought we had agreed this was a bad idea.”
Her hands settled on the firm muscles of his chest as her gaze briefly flickered down to his mouth before meeting his gaze once more. When she spoke, her voice had turned soft to something almost vulnerable. “Don’t you ever wish we could go back to the way we started? Before everything got so complicated.”
An unusually serious expression crossed Tobirama’s face. His gaze searched hers, as if wondering where they would be now if things between them hadn’t ended so abruptly. She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes – if he saw anything at all – but then he was downing the rest of his whiskey. He set the glass aside before he twisted a hand into her hair and forced her mouth to meet his.
There was nothing gentle about the way Tobirama held her. He secured an arm around her waist before he picked her up and laid her against the soft leather of the couch, careful of her still-healing shoulder. As soon as she was settled, he was on her again, his knee pressing into the space between her legs as he bit a path down her throat. A sharp gasp escaped her when he found a sensitive spot, but the noise was quickly muffled as he crushed his mouth against hers again.
His kiss felt like drowning. Like she was being pulled beneath the current, her head inches or perhaps miles below the surface. She didn’t know if it eased or just numbed the pain in her chest, but she had the fleeting thought that if it could distract her from her grief if only for a few minutes, then she would take everything she could.
Chapter Thirty-Five Happiness is a bullet in the back
A cigarette hung between Kisame’s lips. It burned his lungs on every inhale, the acidic taste tainting his tongue and filling his nose. He pinched the end between his teeth as he meandered down the street, his hands in his pockets. On the corner, he paused at the red crosswalk sign and glanced both ways before hurrying through the intersection.
This time of morning, there were few cars out and even fewer people. Those that had stayed out partying all night had already slipped off to bed and rush hour was still an hour off, leaving the streets bare. A hush had fallen over the normally busy city. A ghost town. At least before the walking dead of the working class crawled out from their holes.
Slipping his cigarette from his mouth, Kisame exhaled just as his phone pinged in his pocket. With his other hand, he retrieved the device. The message that waited for him made him hiss out a curse.
The shipment was early. And Pein was calling for all members within the States to be dockside to help with distribution. This wasn’t how Kisame was hoping things would go.
Shoving his cell back into his pocket, Kisame continued towards his townhouse at a hurried pace. He paused on his bottom step and rapidly took a few more drags off his smoke before he stomped it out.
Inside his living space, Kisame flipped on his lights as he made his way down the hall and towards the combined kitchen and living room. On the far side was his den, and he made a beeline towards it when a voice suddenly spoke.
“You know, smoking is bad for you. Might kill you some day.”
Kisame nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around to find none other than Sakura lounging in the loveseat near the front window. From the height off the city street he wouldn’t have seen her, but she certainly would have seen him come home.
He looked her up once, half-annoyed that she looked so comfortable there like she owned the place. In her dark jeans and leather jacket she looked more like an assassin than an international arms dealer.
He resisted his glare. “Why do I get the feeling it won’t be the cigarettes that do me in, little viper.”
Sakura’s didn’t reply, but he thought he saw her smirk briefly. His eyes briefly flickered over the room.
“Where’s Itachi?” he asked.
“Not here.”
It seemed his assumption wasn’t off the mark. “I see. You come to kill me then?”
Sakura ran her hand through her ponytail before she settled her arm against the armrest. “I’m undecided, but I’m pleased you’re not against the option should it come to that.”
Kisame’s eyes narrowed at the small, fleeting smirk upon Sakura’s face. Perhaps she was being sarcastic, but he wouldn’t put it past her to shoot him anyway.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
He could tell she was resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Why do you think? The shipment is here earlier than you said, Kisame. I wonder why that is.”
His brow arched in surprise. “How do you know about it?”
“I have eyes on every single port in this state and the next. I know about it,” she said, her tone cool.
Kisame’s mouth pressed into a thin line. It suddenly made sense why she was so threatening tonight. “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t betray you,” he told her, slipping his hands out of his pockets in a show of good faith. His hands were empty. He wasn’t looking for a fight.
Sakura returned the gesture with a flat look.
“The information I provided you was the same info given to me,” Kisame continued. “I had no intention of giving you false information. I wasn’t trying to screw you over. The shipment arrived early. I only found out a few minutes ago myself.”
“Convenient,” Sakura said patronizingly. Then her voice hardened. “But I don’t believe you. You Mossad Operatives are all the same.”
“That’s a pretty close-minded opinion,” Kisame said, a hint of disdain in his tone. He crossed his arms then, making him appear twice as broad and certainly more threatening, but Sakura merely sat and watched him like she was watching a particularly uninteresting movie.
“Is it?” she replied. “I don’t know your full history with Itachi, but there is very little you or he can say to make me believe you weren’t using your working relationship with him to take me down.”
From across the room, Sakura saw the muscles in Kisame’s jaw tighten. Without a doubt, she knew she had him cornered, but it gave her no satisfaction.
“I know Mossad. And I know you want me,” she continued darkly.
A brief but strained silence passed before the muscles in Kisame’s arms released their tension. “Be that as it may, I told you before that Akatsuki is our primary target.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s your only one.”
Her expression was like moonlight reflecting off ice. Beautiful. But deadly. As if she could watch on without feeling if he were to shiver and slowly freeze to death on a cold tundra before she slipped away over the horizon.
Then her expression cleared and she shrugged faintly. “But I’m not here to discuss your grievancesagainst me.”
Confusion flickered across Kisame’s expression, only to deepen as he understood her meaning. “You think I betrayed Itachi? Why would I do that?”
“That’s the very question I want answered.”
“I’ve been working with Itachi for over five years,” he said, his voice hard with offense.
“And I’ve seen assassins stalk their prey for decades before making a move,” Sakura countered. Then she reached into her jacket and withdrew her weapon before she aimed the barrel directly at him. “So, convince me.”
Kisame’s eyes lingered on her weapon as the weight of the situation settled around them. The air grew thick, making it hard to breathe as if each breath might be his last. Then, in a flash of movement, he made to withdraw his own gun, but Kakashi was faster. He slipped out of the dark den behind Kisame like Death himself, the blunt end of his weapon pressing into the back of Kisame’s skull, stilling his movements.
Kisame’s gaze flickered to Kakashi before finding Sakura again. An odd mix of anger and frustration crossed his face.
“You really are a heartless bitch,” he spat.
She was unfazed by his harsh words. “I just want the truth, Kisame.”
“I’ve told you the truth,” he retorted, his tone giving away his exasperation. “I have told you everything Pein has told me. I didn’t know Madara was involved and I certainly didn’t know Akatsuki was regrouping at the old port in Newark. Pein has always been like this. He gives us basic information and when he’s ready to move, he summons us. I know you’ve done enough transports by now to know that ships don’t always arrive the day they’re scheduled due to weather. If I was going to kill you, I would have done it long before now.”
His last statement sounded more malicious than defensive, but Sakura supposed she couldn’t really blame him. If he truly hadn’t wanted to kill her before now, he very likely wanted to now. She was balancing his life in her hands now. Just one trigger-pull from ending him. Permanently.
He was a Mossad Operative. And a close, personal informant of Itachi’s. If she was wrong and he was telling the truth, his murder could have dangerous consequences for her. She needed to consider this carefully.
That’s when Sakura’s phone rang.
It interrupted the tense silence sharply, the standard ringtone echoing throughout the room. She didn’t reach for it, instead letting it go to voicemail in her jacket pocket before she began to ponder where this situation would go next.
Then her phone immediately rang again.
A muscle in Kisame’s jaw twitched. “You going to answer that?” he asked dryly, only well aware of the gun still pressed to the back of his head.
Over his shoulder, Kakashi shot her a look of confusion that bordered on concern. Sakura kept her face a complete mask as she withdrew her phone, her weapon never wavering from Kisame. Shikamaru’s name was on the caller ID. He hardly ever called her. And never back-to-back unless it was an emergency, but she didn’t let her curiosity show.
Sakura swiped her finger across the screen. “Go,” she answered.
“Izuna is heading towards Newark. He didn’t take the bait,” Shikamaru told her in one breath.
She made sure to keep her expression neutral as she replied, “You’re sure?”
“I just pinged his phone location. He’s just left his penthouse. He’s headed south.”
Sakura’s brows furrowed minutely. Why would he do that? He knew she would be in Brooklyn, so why would he go to Newark?
A memory of the night Madara cornered her popped into her head then. The night he had approached her in that Five-Star restaurant with pictures of her with Itachi in Egypt.
“You appear rather close, do you not?” Madara had murmured. His voice so factual, so darkly promising.
It was all suddenly so clear. Sakura had consistently antagonized Izuna, pushed his anger and threatened everything he had worked for. And now Izuna wanted revenge. For what she had done to Madara. What she had done to him.
Izuna wanted Itachi. Dead.
“Intercept him,” Sakura suddenly demanded.
“I can’t. Both Tenten and Tobirama are tied up with the other Akatsuki members, and Izuna’s already ahead of me,” Shikamaru said.
But Izuna wasn’t ahead of her. Kisame’s apartment was only a few miles from Newark. If Izuna was coming from his apartment in Midtown, she might have just enough time to get to Itachi first. But she would have to leave now.
Her gun was still drawn but her gaze was distant as Sakura hung up her phone and slipped it back into her jacket. Her mind was racing but she was forced out of her thoughts when Kisame suddenly spoke.
“So, are you going to kill me, or are you going to save him?”
She didn’t know how he had read her thoughts so easily, but she said nothing. Merely sent Kakashi a single look as she stood and re-holstered her weapon in one fluid movement. She didn’t see Kakashi’s strike, but she heard the heavy thump as Kisame’s body crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Only once they were in the car and on the highway did Sakura explain what was going on. Kakashi listened silently, only letting out a single, long exhale once she had finished.
“This isn’t what we had planned,” he told her.
With her gaze still forward, she nodded. “I know.”
“The CIA is already in position to raid the shipping yard. You’ll have to sneak past not only Akatsuki and Izuna, but the CIA as well. It’s going to be difficult.”
“I know,” she repeated. After a moment, she added more quietly. “But I have to. I made Itachi go.”
Kakashi glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, but she wasn’t looking at him. There was an odd expression on her face, one he had never seen before. One of worry and regret.
He said nothing else, casting them into silence as he took the exit. Only once they were a block away did Kakashi pull into a dark alley beside an abandoned house. He killed the engine and stepped out before making his way to the trunk.
“I thought something like this might happen,” Kakashi told her. “Which is why I got these.”
Confused, Sakura stepped forward as Kakashi popped the back open. Inside were Kevlar vests like the ones police and federal agents used. They were already packed with guns and extra rounds, and on the back in big capital letters was the abbreviation: C.I.A. It was a perfect disguise. They would blend right in.
“Where did you get these?” Sakura asked. She grabbed the smaller one and held it against herself, finding it was her size.
The other fit Kakashi. He stripped his jacket and guns off until he was down to his undershirt before he pulled the vest on and adjusted the straps until it was snug around his form.
“Don’t ask,” he told her.
Then he took her vest and helped her slip into it, adjusting it until it protected her center. He grabbed a hat out of the trunk and passed it to her to conceal her hair before he gave her a onceover to ensure she looked like every other agent that would be out there.
Satisfied, Kakashi nodded. “Now let’s go find your boy toy.”
Sakura glared in response. “He’s not my boy toy-.”
“Whatever.”
xx
Three streets down, the Akatsuki warehouse was full of activity. At the port, a large cargo ship was being offloaded by a towering crane. There was no sign of any special agents yet, but men with guns were running around, barking orders at one another as they unloaded wooden crates from the metal carriers. Definitely illegal arms and drugs.
From a dark corner on the other side of a chain link fence, Sakura and Kakashi watched in silence. They crouched there for a few minutes, taking everything in. Trying to identify where the CIA would infiltrate from.
“Do you see Itachi or anyone?” Sakura murmured.
Without removing his binoculars, Kakashi hummed a negative. “No, and I don’t see Izuna either.”
She didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but she remained silent as she continued to watch the activity in front of them. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long before Kakashi spoke again.
“Over there,” he said. “The CIA is getting ready to move in. We can slip in now while they’re distracted with getting into position.”
After securing his binoculars in his vest, Kakashi pulled up the bottom of the fence where age and corrosion had weakened it at the base, leaving enough room for Sakura to crawl under. She held it up to let Kakashi through behind her before they raced across the dark corners of the shipping yard to slip into rank with the quietly moving CIA agents.
The group they joined paused behind a large shipping container on the outskirts before they broke up into teams and continued to surround the working Akatsuki criminals. Sakura followed behind Kakashi, her eyes searching for Itachi and Izuna. The very moment she spotted Izuna she was going to kill him, consequences be damned.
However, that thought went out her head when Kakashi nudged her. “There,” he nodded.
Across the shipping yard, near the warehouse was Itachi. He was decked out in black tactical gear same as everyone else, but Kakashi was right. She would recognize the shape of his shoulders and curve of his jawline anywhere.
“We need to get to him,” Sakura murmured back.
Kakashi gave a single nod. “Stay close and stay low,” he told her.
Like a single shadow, she and Kakashi separated from the other CIA agents. They slipped behind the teams moving into position, not drawing their attention or the criminals working only a few meters beyond.
Sakura did her best to keep track of Itachi. He was with a group of agents, but as she closed the distance, he got the rest of his team in position until he was the closest one taking cover behind the edge of the shipping container near the warehouse.
Kakashi and Sakura took cover behind the next container over and with Kakashi at her back, Sakura slipped as close as she could to the edge before she whispered sharply to get his attention. “Psst, Itachi.”
With his gaze trained down the sights of his rifle, it took another attempt or two before he finally lifted his attention in her direction. His response was immediate. His eyes widened and his mouth went slack before his expression sharpened.
‘What are you doing here?’ he mouthed, his anger visible.
Sakura shot him a silent look that said they needed to talk. Now.
His expression could only be described as annoyed incredulity.
When Sakura remained firm, Itachi let out an aggravated sigh before he turned to the agent beside him and murmured orders she couldn’t hear. Then he checked the coast was clear before he crossed the short aisle separating their containers to join her.
Shouldering his weapon, Itachi grasped her upper arm tightly. Almost to the point of pain. He searched her face briefly before he glanced over at Kakashi. When he turned back to her, she opened her mouth but he quickly silenced her.
“Not here,” he murmured.
Itachi seemed to search their surroundings a moment before his gaze landed on the warehouse behind them. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her the few yards into the open loading dock.
As soon as they were around the corner, he knelt down, pulling her into a darkened corner with him.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped, his hands tightening around her upper arms. “If the CIA-”
“Izuna is looking for you,” she interrupted.
Itachi’s irritation gave way to confusion. “What? Why?”
“Because Madara isn’t here,” she said quickly. “Izuna knows I chased him from the country. He’s coming after you to get back at me. We have to leave before he finds you. He wants you dead.”
"Get back at you?” he repeated. “How does he know…wait, what do you mean you chased Madara out of the country?”
Sakura’s lips parted but no words came out. Because how did she tell Itachi she had knowingly deceived him? Ever since their first official introduction, he had only ever been straight with her, and now she had just told him she had betrayed his trust. The thing she held most dear.
Sakura saw the moment realization dawned on his face, like she had just slapped him. Her chest tightened uncomfortably as his expression gave way to a mix of anger and dejection, but she never found the words to explain. For their strained silence was interrupted by footsteps up on the upper rafters above where they were crouched.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Sakura’s head snapped up just as one of Akatsuki’s men drew a weapon from inside his jacket. In the same second, she shoved Itachi behind a wooden crate, taking cover after him as bullets peppered the concrete floor where they had been crouched only a moment earlier.
Sakura didn’t know if the noise had caused a stir or if the CIA had finally given the order to move, but shouts erupted outside at the same moment before gunfire filled the air both in the shipping yard and the warehouse.
Together, she and Itachi returned fire. She wasn’t sure who delivered the killing blow, but it didn’t matter for three more men took his place. In the metal warehouse, the rain of gunshots was deafening. Adrenaline rushed through Sakura’s veins, but it was her training that kept her sharp. She fired round after round, fully aware how thin the wooden box they were taking cover behind was against a rifle. For the most part, it protected them against the handguns these attackers were using, but anything bigger, she and Itachi would be in serious trouble.
Forcing herself to inhale, Sakura tightened the grouping of her bullets, striking and killing one man before hitting another. Itachi took out the third, causing the barrage of noise to cut off abruptly inside the warehouse.
Still, Sakura didn’t relax her stance as her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the floor for more men. Only once she was sure they weren’t any more incoming for the time being did she minutely relax her grip and glance at Itachi.
“We need to leave,” she told him.
“And go where?” he countered. Even in the wake of their brief firefight, she could hear the anger in his voice. The bitterness. The heartbreak. “Even if Madara is not here, the CIA is already in the middle of a raid. I cannot just leave my team.”
“But Izuna-.”
“No, Sakura,” Itachi snapped.
The harshness of that single retort made her still. In that moment, she would have given anything to make him look at her like he had only a few hours ago back when they had been in his apartment. Back when his fingers had traced over the keys of the piano, his hands attempting to play her song. Anything was better than the grief and hurt and betrayal that filled his gaze now. She swallowed thickly, trying to push down the emotion that swelled painfully in her chest.
“Itachi…” she tried. But he merely turned away from her as he stood, ready to rejoin the agents outside. “Itachi, please-”
She never finished the rest of her sentence as gunfire filled the warehouse once more. She didn’t know which direction the bullet had come from. All she knew was in one instant, Itachi was standing before her and the next, he was on the ground, unmoving.
Fear like nothing Sakura had ever felt before flooded her. It seized her, stopping her heart in her chest and making the rest of the world fall far, far away until all that existed was Itachi in what appeared to be a slowly gathering pool of blood.
“No,” she murmured. Then louder, “No! Itachi.”
Sakura made to reach for him where he lay only a few feet away, but stopped abruptly when bullets struck the concrete inches in front of her. She dove back behind her cover, glancing across the room towards a second entrance where the shots had come from.
“I warned you the last time we spoke that it would not be our last meeting,” a voice said after the echoing gunfire had faded.
Immediately Sakura stilled, recognizing none other than Izuna. She sat frozen, not daring to move a muscle, with her back pressed against the wooden crate, her rifle held to her chest and her breath bated as she listened to his footsteps echo across the room.
“What, nothing to say? Where’s all that talk you used to have? Or was it just that? Just talk.” Then his footsteps stopped. “I told you you had a pretty mouth, but I guess that’s all you are. Maybe if your little play thing had known that, he wouldn’t be here now.”
Automatically, Sakura’s gaze returned to Itachi. He remained motionless, his blood creeping into the cracks of the concrete around his middle. The bullet must have struck just under his vest. Which meant he likely wasn’t dead. But he would be soon if he didn’t get immediate medical attention.
Anger like no other replaced the fear gripping her heart. “You fucker, I’m going to kill you!”
Izuna’s quiet chuckle reached her ears. “Only one of us will die tonight-”
Pinpointing his voice, Sakura peeked out from around her cover and unloaded her entire magazine in Izuna’s direction. She fired until her weapon was empty before she discarded it and dove for Itachi. She grabbed his vest by the shoulders and tried to drag him to another crate nearby.
She made it two feet before more shots filled the air. Something hard struck her in the shoulder, like a hard punch, knocking her off her feet and onto her back. It kicked the breath from her lungs, leaving her staring dazed at the ceiling and gasping for air like a fish out of water.
It took a moment for the pain to catch up. Then it was everywhere. Icy hot fire erupted in her shoulder and she pressed a hand to it only for her fingers to come away red. She had been shot. Her vision doubled but she forced herself to blink into focus as a shadow appeared above her.
Izuna looked down at her. Even against her darkening sight, she saw the sinister smirk curling in the corners of his mouth. “I am going to enjoy this.”
Then he raised his gun and pointed the barrel directly at her head before a single gunshot filled the air.
Sakura snapped her eyes closed.
A second passed. Then another and another before she realized she was still alive.
Confused, Sakura picked her head up only to find Izuna laying a few feet away, blood bubbling out of his throat. She didn’t understand what had happened until a new set of footsteps reached her ears. Clearing her swimming vision again, she turned her head just as Kakashi lowered his rifle and hurried into the warehouse. He marched straight up to Izuna and pulled his Glock from his hip before he unloaded two rounds directly into Izuna’s head.
Relieved, Sakura let her head fall back to the dusty floor. Then Kakashi was by her side. He pressed his hand into the wound in her shoulder, causing her to hiss out a pained noise between clenched teeth.
“Fuck,” he cursed. “You’re losing too much blood. You need a hospital.”
Without waiting for a response, Kakashi hoisted her to her feet. The movement gave her another glimpse of Itachi and automatically she reached for him.
“Itachi,” she gasped between pained breaths.
To her incredible dismay, Kakashi dragged her away. “We have to go,” he told her. “There’s nothing you can do for him now.”
Sakura fought against him. “No! Itachi! We can’t just leave him.”
Kakashi didn’t reply. Instead, he stopped just long enough to hoist her weakening body into his arms before he exited the warehouse the direction they had come, shouting to someone outside about an injured agent.
Her last sight was of Itachi’s bleeding body before her world faded and went black.
The soft tinkle of a piano filled the room. It reached every corner, softening the harsh silence and giving life to the otherwise still night. The clock on the wall displayed the early morning hour, but Sakura didn’t pay it any mind as her fingers tumbled across the keys.
Kakashi hadn’t answered any of her phone calls since their argument the previous night. It seemed sleep was no longer her friend either for it seemed disinterested in keeping her company as well. Instead, Sakura occupied herself with the familiar instrument, the music in her head distracting from the thoughts that chased sleep away to begin with.
The notes under her fingers seemed to stretch on for hours. She lost track of time, nearly lost track of the day, and perhaps would have sat there for years had the floorboards behind her not creaked.
Itachi closed the distance between them and her eyes fluttered shut when he swept her hair away from her neck and pressed his face to the place where her shoulder met her neck. He inhaled softly before placing the barest of kisses to her skin. Her breath faltered but her fingers did not.
“Come to bed,” he murmured against her skin.
“I can’t sleep.”
She felt him chuckle faintly. “Perhaps because you are not in bed.”
A smile crossed her face, but her fingers never lost their tempo even as he pressed more lingering kisses to the column of her neck.
Eventually Itachi pulled away with a sigh. Without a word, he lowered himself onto the bench beside her until his leg was pressed against hers, his hand resting against her lower back. “Where are you?”
“I’m right here.”
“I meant in your head.” When Sakura pursed her lips, Itachi reached up to brush her hair over her shoulder. “Is this about Hashirama? I heard he was assassinated.”
She kept her expression neutral as she glanced at him, briefly taking in the sweats and white wife beater he had slipped on. She liked the way it emphasized the muscles of his chest.
“No,” she said. “I may have known Hashirama most of my life but he was nothing but a mobster. In the end, he got what he deserved.”
If her cool tone surprised Itachi, he said nothing. He simply watched her fingers skim across the keys as she tried not to recall the moment she had pulled the trigger and embedded a round of metal between Hashirama’s eyes. The taint of smoke and blood lingered in her nose.
“Then where are you?” Itachi murmured again.
Sakura blinked. She played another few measures of her song before finally saying, “Newark.”
“Newark?” he repeated curiously. “What’s there?”
“Madara. He’s regained traction.”
Itachi’s brows furrowed. “But Kisame said the shipment was going to Brooklyn.”
Sakura shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps it was, but word somehow got out that I took control of that warehouse so they’ve had to relocate.”
“You don’t think…” Itachi began slowly. “Kisame wouldn’t have said anything.”
The flat look she shot him said she believed otherwise. “Kisame is loyal to you, Itachi, and you alone.” Then her expression cleared. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. It is what it is.”
Itachi still didn’t look happy about her distrust of Kisame, but he said nothing as he thought, his fingers unconsciously caressing the small of her back through the thin material of her shirt. Or rather it was his shirt, wasn’t it. She had pulled it on after showering, leaving the rest of her clothes forgotten somewhere on the bedroom floor.
“Are you able to intercept Madara?” Itachi asked.
She opened her mouth only to close it once more. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she watched her fingers dance lightly over the keys, the notes filling the silence.
Her silence confused him. “What is it?” he asked.
But Itachi was smart. And it quickly dawned on him.
“You need the CIA to hit the port in Newark.”
“I don’t have the manpower to do it myself,” Sakura said, her tone coming out a little sharper than she intended.
It was a fact she had known for a while now, but it still left her feeling vulnerable. This was the one variable in her plan. She had everything else planned to a ‘T’. The risks, the consequences, the possible outcomes. All except this. She needed the CIA’s help. And that all weighed on Itachi’s next decision.
Sakura glanced at him, but he was no longer looking at her. His eyes were downcast, staring without seeing at her hands, though they had paused upon the black and white keys. His own fingers had fallen still against her back. She could see the thoughts running through his head, could see him weighing the options. He had made the offer before, but she knew it was still difficult for him. She would need to sway him a little more.
“Kisame said the shipment will be here tomorrow night,” Sakura murmured, carefully breaking the silence. “It’s Akatsuki’s largest one ever. Madara will be there. He has to be. It might be the CIA’s last opportunity to capture him before he takes control of the Underground.”
The lie burned her tongue as it came out of her mouth. Like acid, making her feel hot and cold as her heart shriveled up in her chest until it was nothing but dirty ash. She was fully aware how she was a terrible person, but this was on a new level entirely. Pushing Itachi to take down Akatsuki, knowing full well that Madara was long out of the country.
She sat with bated breath until Itachi finally nodded, “I’ll do what I can.” Then his eyes found hers, searching. “But that means you can’t be there.”
“I know,” Sakura said, releasing her tight breath. She relaxed further under his touch as his fingers resumed their gentle caress. “I’m going to try and draw Izuna to Brooklyn, in the meantime. It’ll be easier to bring Akatsuki down if we separate them.”
Itachi’s face pinched with a frown. “Izuna will try to kill you.”
Sakura simply shrugged. “Which is exactly what he’s been trying to do for months. It’s time he and I finished our little game.”
The fingers on her back suddenly dug into her skin. “This is not a game, Sakura.”
The intensity behind his voice gave her pause. She was quiet as she scanned the wall above the piano where a single picture hung. It was the first time she had ever noticed it, she realized. It was an old, weathered sheet of music. Though the song was one she didn’t recognize.
“No, it’s not a game,” Sakura repeated. “But it needs to end nevertheless.”
Itachi held his frown for a moment longer before he let it go with a sigh. Silently, he faced forward, his shoulder pressing into hers. With her own hands resting on her bare thighs, his fingers ghosted over the keys of the piano. Gingerly, he played a few notes. They were off-tempo and the pressure not quite right, but Sakura would recognize them anywhere. It was her song.
Her entire being down to her very soul froze. Her gaze dropped to his hands as she stared intensely, as if expecting him to play more. However, he wasn’t a musician and his hand fell away. Her eyes sought his face sharply, only Itachi wasn’t looking at her. He was frowning at the keys. As if frustrated he didn’t know more.
That look of surprise was still on her face when he finally picked his head up and met her gaze. It was then that she realized it had been no accident. He had learned part of her song.
She wondered how long he had sat here in the living room behind his piano and tried to recreate the music. Tried to recall from mere memory the notes he had heard her play time and time again.
Something swelled within her. Powerful and all-encompassing until she thought her chest might explode. Sakura’s body moved before her mind did.
In one second, she was sitting there, staring wide-eyed at Itachi and in the next, she was in his lap, her mouth pressed tightly against his. With their position, she towered over him and she raked her hands through his hair, forcing his head back as she angled his mouth to hers.
She kissed him hungrily. Kissed him like she was dying. Because in that moment, that’s what it felt like. There was so much emotion in her chest, she felt full, bursting. Like she was coming apart at the seams. And she didn’t know what to do with all of it, so she channeled it into that single kiss. Saying without words everything she didn’t know how to voice.
Itachi hesitated for one split second. Then he was kissing her too.
His fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and dug into her bare hips. He pulled her flush against him, her bare sex rubbing against the thin material of his sweats where she could already feel his member stirring. White hot arousal shot straight into her core and Sakura was grateful she had been too lazy to find her panties earlier.
Her hands fell to his shoulders as he tangled one hand into her hair and urged her head back. A low moan escaped her as Itachi pressed a row of kisses from her jaw, down her throat until he reached the collar of her stolen shirt, her voice echoing towards the ceiling. He pulled the neckline away, licking and sucking at the skin there too until he grew tired of the offending material.
Pulling back, Itachi grabbed the hem of her shirt before he jerked it over her head, leaving her deliciously naked in his lap. His mouth descended upon her breasts, drawing little sounds of pleasure from her as he suckled a nipple into a tight bud before nipping it lightly with his teeth.
Wetness was already pooling between her legs, dampening his sweats and tainting the air between them with sex. Her hands fell to his stomach, feeling the muscle flex there as he ground his hips up against hers. She tilted her head back further, a breathy moan leaving her as he switched to her other breast.
But it wasn’t enough. That emotion was consuming her, spreading through her veins like fire until she could barely think.
Grabbing the hem of his white beater, Sakura ripped his shirt over his head before she grabbed the back of his neck and jerked his mouth back to hers. Her hands raked through his hair, glad that he had left it down. She liked it more like this. She liked the way the silky strands carded through her fingers, liked how it framed his face. Liked how much easier it was to grip. She forced his head to the side to suck the underside of his jaw as she ground herself down into his lap.
“Slow down,” Itachi whispered hotly in her ear.
She didn’t. “I can’t.”
Itachi’s arms slipped away from their encircling embrace so his hands could grasp her wrists. He pulled her hands away before he leaned back to look at her. Really look at her. She wasn’t sure she liked how thoroughly he searched her face.
“Sakura-”
“I need you,” she said before he could finish.
As if he understood she meant more than physically, Itachi’s mouth froze, whatever he was about to say falling forgotten. His expression softened before he released his grip on her wrists. One arm snaked around her waist, his easy strength pulling her bare chest flush against his before he cupped her face and kissed her again, this time gently.
Sakura melted into his embrace, allowing them one moment of nothing but emotion. Their heartbeats fell into sync, their lungs inhaling and exhaling as one as he kissed her thoroughly, his lips so, so soft against hers.
Then Itachi was moving again. Sakura couldn’t contain her cry even if she tried when his fingers finally slipped between her legs. He spread the wetness there, most of it likely his own essence from their earlier round, before he teased her with gentle fingertips. When his fingers finally slipped inside, Sakura couldn’t help her throaty moan as she ground herself against his palm. And he let her.
“Come on, Sakura,” Itachi murmured, his voice thick with lust. “That’s a good girl.”
She sucked in a heavy breath, only for her lungs to dispel it again. She could feel her orgasm building, but it was just beyond her reach. She needed something bigger, something thicker to calm the raging fire of her arousal.
“Please, Itachi.”
She didn’t wait for him to give it to her. Pushing herself onto her knees, Sakura pulled the string of his sweatpants and yanked the material down until his manhood sprung free. She pumped him a few times before she forced his hand away and lined the head of his member with her center. Then she slid down until he was buried fully inside her.
They moaned simultaneously, enjoying the feel of the other, before Sakura began to move. She raised her hips slowly before she sank back down. With the narrow bench beneath them, it took her a minute to find her rhythm, but then she was moving.
The room filled with the sound of lust. The slap of skin-on-skin, the groan of the wooden bench below them, the panting of her breath and the low moans that escaped Itachi’s throat. He wrapped a secure arm around her waist as she leaned back, her hand finding purchase on the piano behind her. It let out a horrible mash of notes as her hand fell on the keys, but she gave it no notice. All that mattered was the man beneath and inside her.
Itachi found rhythm with her and he helped her take her pleasure until she tightened around him, crying his name. The arm around her middle kept her from falling back and he let her rest against him for a minute before he picked her up and set her against the plush rug in the middle of the room.
There Itachi’s pace was hard and deep, but there was a tenderness in which he held and kissed her. That emotion swelled within Sakura again and she arched under him as his pelvic bone ground against her sensitive bundle of nerves until she was coming apart again.
Itachi finished soon after before he laid beside her. Only once their heartbeats had slowed again did he wrap his arm around her waist and curl into her back. “Now will you come to bed?” he asked against her shoulder blade.
When she finally rolled onto her back, he braced himself up on one elbow. A smile played on her lips. “Are we going to be sleeping or doing something else?”
“You want another round?” he asked incredulously.
She laughed at the expression on his face, but wasn’t given the chance to answer when her phone suddenly rang on the counter across the room. They both glanced in its direction and waited for it to fall silent before their gazes found one another again.
Sakura opened her mouth, ready to answer his question when her phone went off for a second time. A frown crossed her lips. “I should probably get that.”
Itachi said nothing, but the arm around her waist fell away as she pushed herself to her feet. Quickly Sakura crossed the living room to catch the call before it went to voicemail.
“What is it?” she nearly demanded.
On the other end, Ino’s voice was grim. “We have a problem.”
Sakura listened intently, the furrow between her brows becoming deeper and deeper until she finally hung up. It took her a long moment to turn around, but when she did, she found Itachi standing on the other side of the kitchen watching her. He had pulled his sweatpants back on and gathered the rest of their clothes.
He read her expression immediately. “What happened?”
When she spoke, her voice was grim. “The ship that’s carrying Akatsuki’s cargo just entered the Lower Bay. It’ll be in port within the next few hours.”
As soon as those words were out of her mouth, Sakura was in motion. She turned and hurried upstairs where she picked her clothes off the floor. She slipped her underwear over her hips before she pulled her sports bra on. Itachi entered the room as she stepped into her jeans.
“Sakura, wait.”
“I can’t,” she said without pausing. “The shipment is here. We have to move. Now.”
He tossed the shirt – his shirt – the one she had worn onto the unmade bed as she found her own shirt and jerked it down over her head. She made to grab her keys and her wallet from the nightstand when Itachi grabbed her by the elbow and stopped her.
“Sakura.”
But that was all he said. Everything else was clearly written on his face. The tension in her form fell away. She gave him a small, sad smile. “Our time is up, Itachi.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
I don’t want to lose you.
He didn’t say the words, but she heard them clear enough. Because neither of them knew what the future held. They were both headed to battle. Casualties were not only possible, but expected. There were no guarantees that either of them would survive.
But Sakura had been in this war long enough that she had to see it through to the end. She just hoped she wouldn’t drag Itachi down with her.
“I’ll be okay,” she said with a smile she didn’t feel. “And you will be too. We can do this.”
Itachi’s response was a slight frown before he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Automatically her hands came to rest on his chest, her palms smoothing over his collarbone until her fingers curled over his shoulders.
Then she pulled away, her eyes searching his.
Itachi met her gaze evenly. “I’ll will make the call,” he promised her.
She nodded, willing the sliver of guilt in her chest to subside before she grabbed her things and made her way out of the room. As she grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter, she couldn’t resist glancing at the piano one last time, her memory repeating over and over those shaky, uneven notes he had played for her. In that instant, she knew she would never get that sound out of her head.
Then Sakura forced herself to turn away. She had a battle to prepare for.
xx
Less than twenty minutes later, Sakura was back in her apartment. In the back of her closet, she pulled up a floorboard. Inside, there were half a dozen different guns with over three hundred rounds of ammunition. Quickly, she went through the process of loading her weapons and double checking that they were functioning properly.
Tossing them on her bed, she retrieved a fresh change of clothes from her dresser. She pulled on a black tank top and a new pair of jeans, ones that had a waistline big enough for her to tuck her guns into. She holstered a gun on either side of her hips and a third at the small of her back before she strapped a backup onto both ankles and jammed her feet into her boots.
After piling her hair into a high ponytail, she slipped on her leather jacket and peeked in the mirror. She gave herself a quick onceover, ensuring her weapons were within easy reach but well-hidden. Her reflection smiled proudly. A warrior disguised as a queen.
Turning away, Sakura grabbed her phone from her bed before she left her apartment and headed downstairs to her car. In the elevator, she texted Ino, asking for Kisame’s whereabouts and the status of everyone else. She needed to know where Tenten and Tobirama were. They only had so much time before the Akatsuki members would be summoned to the warehouse. Sakura needed them all taken out. Now.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, Sakura stepped out. Only to still when she rounded the corner.
Kakashi was leaning against the trunk of her car, his arms and ankles crossed. He was dressed as usual in dark jeans and a black leather jacket. She resisted the urge to laugh at their similar attire, the memory of their last conversation still so fresh and raw.
The only reason she felt comfortable approaching him now was because the mask he occasionally wore over his mouth and nose was pulled down around his neck. If he was looking for another fight, he would have left his face covered. It made him so much harder to read.
Taking a deep breath, Sakura forced herself forward. He looked up upon the sounds of her footsteps but didn’t speak. She stopped a good five feet away from him. Kakashi noticed.
She swallowed thickly. “What’re you doing here?”
He shot her a look like she had just asked the dumbest question in the world. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” she said with a small shrug. She tried to sound nonchalant, but the bitterness and hurt crept into her voice.
It was enough to make Kakashi’s expression soften and he lowered his crossed arms. “Did you really think I would abandon you just like that?”
Sakura opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Because the answer was yes, she did think she had been abandoned. And she was ashamed she had thought so low of Kakashi. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why he was here now. After everything, why he still held such loyalties to her. And she asked.
“Why are you still here?” she murmured, unable to keep the waiver out of her voice. “After everything I’ve done, why do you keep coming back?”
There was a flicker of a smile across his lips. “I told you I always have your back, Sakura.”
“But why?”
He seemed to consider her for a moment, as if he suddenly understood she really didn’t know the answer. He let out a soft sigh.
“Do you remember when we were in Syria? How you saved me and tried to save my men?” he asked.
Sakura’s brows furrowed as her mind filtered through her memory. It had been after their initial meeting, after she had freed him from Gaara’s captivity and after he had found her the night she had put two bullets through Gaara’s head. Sakura had thought she and Kakashi had gone their separate ways. Only to unintentionally reunite in Syria.
That part of the world had been in the midst of a war with the United States. There was so much gunfire and so many bombs. Civilians and soldiers alike were dying left and right. The land was horribly scarred and the people that survived were even more so.
Sakura had been there buying arms from both sides. It wasn’t her war and she didn’t care where the weapons came from as long as she refilled her stores. At least until she had accidentally run into Kakashi. Literally.
She’d had two automatic weapons strapped to her back when she had taken shelter in an abandoned building as gunfire rained down on the city. Inside, Kakashi and his team had been doing the same and they would have shot her head off had Kakashi not ordered them to stand down.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” they had asked each other at the very same time.
Kakashi had been mum on the word, but Sakura had heard the rumors about a group of terrorists on the United States’ watchlist nearby. Only they were just that. A rumor. To lure American soldiers in.
Sakura had weighed her decision carefully to help Kakashi and his team. She had already helped him once and he had her. They didn’t owe each other anything. But there was nothing to gain from a group of dead soldiers. And the United States military weren’t answering their calls for help.
It was all a blur. Only Sakura and Kakashi had made it out alive without being gunned down. Sakura herself was amazed she had gotten away unscathed. Kakashi had been less fortunate with a bullet to the stomach. She had dropped him at the closest hospital, fully expecting him to die. She never expected to see the American Marine again. Nevertheless for him to show up on her door less than a year later.
Sakura hadn’t been entirely sure why he had sought her out. She figured it was something to do with her saving his life and he would leave as soon as he saw what it was she really did. Only he had stuck around. Time and time again.
Kakashi never spoke of the teammates he had lost that day and she didn’t ask. She knew it had fucked him up. It surprised her now that he had even brought it up. Though if she were being honest, she could see the parallels of then and what lay before them now.
“I didn’t think I was going to survive that day,” Kakashi continued quietly. “My own country abandoned my team and left us to die in that desert. Did leave them to die in the desert. They thought we were a lost cause. But not you. I should be dead. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. So even if I do die, if it means I help or save you, I would do it. No questions asked.”
Even after everything she had been through, his sincerity touched her to her core. Her chin tremble and tears pooled in her eyes faster than she could blink them back. She could count on one hand and have fingers left over the number of times they had hugged, but neither of them held back now as Sakura stepped into the circle of his embrace.
Kakashi held her tightly against his chest, his arms wrapping tighter each time her shoulders trembled. He was all strength and support and unwavering loyalty. Exactly what she needed at that moment. She made a mental note to remember this moment forever.
Then Sakura wiped at her face and stepped away.
“I’m going after Kisame,” she told him. Because she knew that Kakashi deserved her full honesty. He deserved to know she was going after a federal agent.
Unperturbed, Kakashi nodded once. “Are you going to kill him?”
“That depends,” she said darkly.
“On?”
“If he’s betrayed Itachi or not.”
Kakashi didn’t immediately replied. His gaze looked her over, as if he was seeing every way Itachi had ever touched her. Physical and otherwise.
To her surprise, Kakashi didn’t question her. He simply patted the side of his jacket where she was sure he had a full-loaded weapon hidden. “And I am going with you. If you’re going after a Mossad Operative, you’ll need to scrub the room. You can’t leave a trace behind.”
It amazed her at how much she needed to hear those words. To know that she wouldn’t be going in alone against Kisame. The man was like a shark. He had been circling her for some time, just waiting to go in for the kill.
Sakura released a silent breath before she gave him a small smile.
Kakashi returned it before he straightened his spine. The soldier in him coming out full force.
If there was ever a night when Sakura had thought that shit had utterly hit the fan, it was this night.
In a clearing somewhere between Fire and Mist country, Sakura was knee-deep in mud and up to her elbows in blood. The rain poured heavily down upon her. It made her hair stick to the sides of her face and the back of her neck. Droplets of water dripped off the tip of her nose and clung to her eyelashes, but she didn’t dare wipe them away. Not when Genma’s life hung by a thread beneath her fingertips.
Around her, the clash of battle raged on. Steel-on-steel echoed through the clearing, ricocheting of the trees and fading up into the night sky high above. Nearby, Itachi and Shisui held off their attackers. The ones that had managed to set such a carefully crafted trap that Genma had no choice but to sacrifice himself to keep the rest of them safe. What Sakura wouldn’t give to wrap her fingers around their throats.
She didn’t know how long she worked. All she knew was that her other teammates were still fighting tooth and nail. There had been eight when the battle began. How many there were now, she didn’t know.
Out of the corner of her eyes, a quick streak of light seized Sakura’s gaze, a strip of moonlight peeking out between the clouds caught the edge of a blade. She looked up just in time to jerk her head to the side where a kunai had been on path for her eye. It grazed her cheek, but her hands nor her chakra waivered from her fallen comrade. Not even as the enemy nin who had thrown the deadly weapon advanced on her.
He made it as close as two yards away before Itachi flickered between them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, his katana raised for battle. Under the brief light of the full moon, the blade gleamed red.
Sakura spared them no more notice. It took all her concentration to close the large gash in Genma’s side before she began the tedious task of sealing blood vessels closed and repairing organs. His muscles would need to be stitched back together as well, but that would be last after she stemming his internal bleeding and got his blood pressure back to safe levels.
Time passed without meaning until the sounds of battle grew fainter before cutting off abruptly with a wet, gurgled cry. Sakura glanced up sharply, ensuring it wasn’t one of her own teammates. When she found both Itachi and Shisui still standing some years away, exhausted and bloodied, but otherwise unharmed, her gaze dropped back to the task at hand.
“How is he?” Shisui asked, joining her soon after.
“Holding on for now,” she told him. “If he survives this, he has a long recovery ahead.”
Over the sound of the rain, Sakura barely heard Itachi’s footfalls through the muddy ground as he joined them. “Can he be moved?”
Normally her answer was ‘no’, but they were in the middle of unincorporated country, which left them open for another attack. Not to mention, the night was growing later and the rain didn’t seem in any hurry to lighten up soon. In fact, it seemed like there was a chance it would worsen.
“Yes, but not far,” was her answer as she finally let her chakra flicker out.
Without hesitation, Shisui bent down and picked their fallen comrade from the soggy, forest floor. Shisui had lost his ANBU mask at some point during the battle, revealing his mud and blood-stained face. His Sharingan was still active and spinning slowly as he scanned their surroundings as if expecting another impending attack.
Itachi removed his own mask and clipped it to his hip as his deadly eyes did the same. “There’s a border town less than ten miles from here. We will make for that.”
With that decided, the shinobi disappeared into the trees without another word, leaving only corpses in the muddy earth behind.
Twenty minutes later, they reached the small town. In the shadowed alley between an inn and a dark clothing store, Shisui and Sakura stood with Genma propped between them while Itachi went in alone to secure a room.
A crow summoned them not long after and after pinpointing Itachi’s intentionally leaked chakra, Shisui flickered all three of them into a room near the end of the small inn. Inside, there were two, queen-sized beds, but that was all Sakura took in before they were moving. Itachi helped Shisui lower Genma down onto the one closer to the center of the room. Away from any threats that may come through the window.
As they situated their unconscious teammate, Sakura shrugged off her pack and dug for her supplies. In her storage scroll, she withdrew an IV drip with antibiotics and blood, and made quick work of hooking Genma up to both before she returned to her work with chakra.
Sakura had no sense of time. She worked well into the night. Until Genma’s pressure stabilized and her chakra finally flickered out of life from her hands. On the bed beside him, she sat back of her heels, her eyes roving over the needle in his arm up to the bag hanging from the bedframe. Double and triple checking that there were no kinks. The lights from the bedside lamps cast just enough light for her to see.
It was the sound of rustling from the next bed over that finally pulled Sakura’s gaze away. Itachi was still awake and to her surprise, sitting on the edge of the bed watching with a piercing stare as if he had been there the entire time. The only reason she knew he hadn’t was because he was no longer covered in blood and dirt.
His armor was gone, piled in the corner along with his pack and katana. He had changed into a black shirt and a pair of standard shinobi pants. Something he could quickly slip his armor over if they needed to make a quick escape. His hair was slightly damp too, but not from the rain. Rather a shower. The place she suspected Shisui had disappeared to if the faint rush of water was anything to go by.
“He’s out of danger for now,” Sakura said. She murmured the words in the quiet of the room, but even then her voice sounded rough. Her throat was dry with dehydration from expending so much chakra over the course of the night.
With only a whisper of fabric, Itachi stood from the bed. He crossed the room to his pack and returned a moment later with a canteen. He pressed the palm of his hand between her shoulder blades to help support her as she tipped it back to drink. Only once she’d had her fill did she pass the container back to him with a fleeting smile of thanks.
“I want to keep an eye on him over the course of the night,” Sakura continued, her words still murmured but her voice not quite as hoarse. “Make sure there’s no changes for the worse.”
Itachi nodded. “Shisui and I will take turns. You need to rest.”
“We all need to rest,” she countered softly.
She grimaced slightly as she untucked her legs from under her, her muscles stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. When she glanced back up at Itachi, she found him frowning.
“What?” she asked.
He didn’t immediately reply but she watched with interest as he sorted through the pile of medical supplies she had dumped on the bed until he found a piece of gauze. Her brow arched with curiosity before she hissed faintly as he pressed the bandage to her cheek. With everything else going on, she had forgotten about the injury there.
“I can heal that,” Sakura said, raising her hand.
Itachi shook his head once. “Do it in the morning. You are exhausted.”
She opened her mouth, only to close it as her hand fell. Those words had never been truer. She wondered if given enough time, if she could fall asleep right there, sitting up.
Her eyes fluttered closed as Itachi used his canteen to wet the gauze before he gripped her chin with one hand and wiped the blood and grime away from her skin with the other. She had the faint thought to ask him why he was doing it, but in her current state of exhaustion, she just couldn’t find the energy to form the words.
“I’m sorry,” Itachi said after some minutes.
Brows furrowing, Sakura forced her eyes open. Her confusion only grew when she noticed the small frown pulling on the corners of his mouth.
“I should have gotten to you sooner,” he explained quietly. “You trusted me to have your back and I failed you.”
An odd expression passed her face. “You didn’t fail me, Itachi. I had no doubt that you would be there. You’re my teammate and my captain. I trust you. With everything.”
There was a soft smile on her face as she finished. Still, he searched her expression a moment longer before the stiffness to his shoulders finally eased. Silence fell between them again as Itachi resumed dapping at her face, even quieter than before as the sound of the shower suddenly cut off.
There was a strong sense of familiarity between them, one Sakura couldn’t remember having before. She had been on Itachi’s team for near that of a year, yet he had never been this open with her. As if tonight he had finally accepted her in ways she had yet to fully understand. Onto some deeper level. One that went as far as his relationship with Shisui and Genma.
That thought made her relax fully into his touch as he cleaned her face until he was nearly entirely keeping her head up as the weight of what they had just gone through weighed down on her. Only the shallow breaths from Genma and the faint shuffling of clothes on the other side of the door from Shisui to fill the quiet.
When the door to the bathroom finally opened, Sakura was blinking sleep from her eyes. She peered blearily at Shisui as he walked out and eyed their injured teammate.
“Is he stable?” he asked.
Sakura opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Itachi nudged her knee. She glanced back at him as he nodded towards the now-open bathroom. “Go shower and then rest. You have earned it.”
“Yes, captain,” she said with a small, teasing smile.
She saw the corner of his mouth twitch before she gave one final, lingering look at Genma and finally pushed herself up. Her knees felt a little weak and she ached in placed she couldn’t remember aching before, but the thought of a warm shower and then a big bed kept her moving. It wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as her mattress back home, but as long as it didn’t have bugs and didn’t smell, she wouldn’t complain.
Using what little chakra she had left, Sakura disobeyed Itachi’s order and healed the cut on her cheek before she scrubbed her face and the rest of her body clean. She stood under the warm spray of the shower until she was nearly asleep on her feet. From her pack, she pulled out a shirt and a pair of shorts similar to Itachi’s in case they needed to make a quick getaway before she brushed her teeth. She could always run a brush through her hair in the morning.
Shisui was already asleep when she entered the room, but Itachi was seated in a chair against the wall at the foot of Genma’s bed with a book in hand. She dropped her bag next to Shisui’s at the foot of their own bed before she made another check on Genma. Still stable.
“I will wake you if anything changes,” Itachi murmured.
She flashed him a faint, grateful smile before she slipped under the sheets beside Shisui. He was on his side, his back to her as he faced the window. His breathing was light, his shinobi instincts keeping him from falling into too deep of a sleep.
With Shisui at her front and Itachi behind her, she had never felt safer and she drifted off quickly, knowing that if anything were to happen, her boys would have her back. That she had absolute trust in.
