Perception

Warnings: Rated M for violence, language and sexual situations/adult themes. Naruto and its characters are owned by Kishimoto.

Fanart #4 is up on my profile, as well as another by Asriel-Chan, so be sure to check them both out! Let’s go for fanart #5!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Perception by Cynchick
Chapter 13: On a Day Like Today


Sakura cupped her hands around her bowl of soup, gratefully absorbing the heat of the steaming liquid through the ceramic into her chilled fingers. She was sitting at the small wooden table in the industrial sized kitchen, fully cloaked, and about to eat the simple stew she had managed to cook up. She didn’t know where anyone else was at the moment, but she figured they’d be around soon to see if anyone had made something passable to eat. All five of them were terrible cooks, including the Uchiha genius. He would probably be good at it like everything else, but he just didn’t give a damn enough to learn. The large pantry, which was easily the size of Sakura’s bedroom back home, was stocked full of non-perishables and simple made food, so it thankfully it didn’t require too much skill to make meals. In fact the stew she was eating now had come out of a giant tin can that she had dumped into a large soup pot and heated over the stove, and tasted like it too. It couldn’t be helped though; they were nearly a hundred miles from any sort of settlement so fresh groceries or takeout was not an option.


As for her cloaked state, well, it was so damned cold in this place that walking around without it was also not an option. The only places where it would get warm and comfortable were in the private quarters, where the coal stoves would heat the small space reasonably well, though most of the heat was sucked right into the stone walls. Still, her room was the only place she would move around without her heavy pseudo-Akatsuki cloak. For Sakura, who had grown up among lush forests and a temperate climate, this place sucked.


It had been four days since they had arrived at the isolated old base, and though not much was happening at any given time, there was a thick tension all round the place, a curious mixture of excitement and dread. They all knew what was coming and that it was coming soon, any given day. Sakura had been a ‘captive’ now for over three weeks, but it felt like much longer, and not in the slow and torturous way one would expect in a hostage situation. This way of life, so different from what she had known before, now seemed a natural part of her. It was probably not a good thing that she adjusted so well into the lifestyle of a missing-nin, but it was true all the same. Though, she didn’t think she could go through it alone and it was only so comfortable because she was with comrades, perhaps even…friends?


That was what made the waiting so unbearable. If she was not regarded as she was by her captors, if they had not come to be more to her than villains holding her against her will, she would be counting the seconds until her rescue with a fierce and sadistic mindset, waiting for a chance to teach them who they were messing with. But it wasn’t like that; it hadn’t been like that since the first day she was kidnapped. As it was, every day that passed in this place was tense like the calm before a storm, and everyday Sakura was struggling to control her anxiety.


Would today be the day? When someone she loved /liked /respected was killed? Would it be tomorrow? If she survived, if she was able to go home again with the broken pieces of her former life, how would she say goodbye to those she left behind forever? There was no perfect solution. It was not possible to have it both ways. She would have to choose, and though there had never been any doubt in her mind about what she would choose, when the time came to make that choice it would tear her apart inside. It was already doing so.


She heard the kitchen door swing open and turned her head to see who had entered. It was Deidara, and she smiled pleasantly at his appearance. He didn’t smile in return, simply twisted the corner of his mouth and inclined his head slightly. She smiled wider; he was still so rough around the edges, and maybe he always would be. It was ok though, it was one of the things she liked most about him.


“I made some soup,” she informed as he came closer.


“You made some soup?” he eyed her curiously.


“I heated some soup,” she amended, and he smirked before turning to peer into the large tureen on the stovetop. He fixed himself a bowl and sat down at the adjacent corner of the table.


She thought of asking him where everyone else was, but decided against it because if there was one thing she had learned in the last three and a half weeks, it was that the Akatsuki kept to themselves for the most part.


Itachi was still keeping his distance from her. She never saw him alone and any words between them were out of necessity and never even construed a complete sentence. Every time it would annoy her and leave her feeling a lack of something, what that something was she couldn’t quite figure out, and every time she would have to remind herself that this was for the best and she shouldn’t be thinking about it. It never worked. She sighed heavily and took another mouthful of soup.


“Somethin wrong?” She looked up from her bowl to find Deidara watching her.


“Hmm? Oh…no, it’s just, all this waiting is starting to get to me.”


He simply nodded and continued eating. Any questions from there were likely to lead to a bad place.


“This tastes like shit, yeah,” Deidara said with offhanded amusement, breaking the silence.


Sakura looked up, and stared at him blankly for a second before snorting and breaking into a fit of muted giggles. He grinned at her, and finally broke into a laugh himself. It wasn’t really that funny, but they both took pleasure in laughing for the sake of laughing, lightening the somber mood of the last few minutes.


Eventually they calmed down though both were still quite mirthful. Sakura thought this might be a good time to bring up something she’d been waiting for the opportunity for.


“Deidara…” she began, reaching into the inner pocket of her cloak and bringing out two scrolls. “I’ve been meaning to give these to you for a few days,” she set them on the table between them. “I found them hidden in the old desk back at…your house. They belong to you.”


He stared at the scrolls on the table with an unreadable expression. He didn’t ask what they were; he knew that he was looking at the stolen jutsu that had warranted his family’s murders. Nor he didn’t ask what she was doing with them or why she had taken them, that was obvious to him because he was a shinobi too and he would have done the same.


He slowly picked up one of the scrolls and opened it, reading its contents carefully before setting it down again and picking up the other, repeating the action. Then he slowly pushed the scrolls back toward Sakura, finally meeting her uncertain gaze. “Keep them.”


Her brow creased slightly. “…You don’t want them?”


He gave her a small, negative shake of his head. “They’re not important anymore.”


“…You’re sure?”


“Give ‘em to your Hokage. It’s not like I have some patriotic sentiment toward Iwa, yeah. Besides, I just memorized them,” he shrugged.


“…Alright,” she said quietly, carefully retrieving the scrolls and returning them to the inside of her cloak. She was glad he wasn’t angry that she had taken them and held on to them this long.


“Why did you offer to give them back?”


“Well, when I found them, it was before things got so…well…like this,” she ended, looking absently at the tabletop.


He knew what she meant, and nodded imperceptibly as he stared at his own cooling bowl. ‘Like this’, was something none of them had expected and though not exactly unwelcome, it was still unsettling to think about.


“I don’t want this to happen…” she said in a near whisper. After a moment she looked up and met his questioning gaze, her eyes were troubled; bright and soft and hauntingly beautiful. All he could do was stare, and wait for her to continue.


“I don’t want you to hurt my friends…and…I don’t want them to hurt you.”


She wasn’t asking him not to, she wasn’t using their relationship to plead with him and convince him or his comrades to back down, and his respect for her bravery and emotional fortitude grew immensely in that moment. The expression on her face was slightly heart-wrenching, and it stirred something within him to hear her say she was concerned for him as well, but he didn’t know how to respond to something so unexpected so he waited for her to keep talking, knowing that she would.


“It feels stupid to say this, but I never expected any of you to be so…how you are. Especially you. I never expected to get to know you like this, and now, I feel as though you’re…my friend,” she said softly, and looked at him with a small, sad smile.


He nodded softly, his expression nearly as troubled as hers. “I know. I feel the same about you, yeah. I’ve never had a friend…I mean, Sasori-danna and I talked about a lot of things, but we never had much in common other than our interest in art, and we could never agree on that either. And Tobi, well, I can’t explain Tobi, yeah. But it’s different with you…you get me.”


He sighed wistfully. “I wish things could be different, Sakura, but we can’t back down. Not when we’re so close to the goal that our organization has worked for over ten years to achieve. I know it’s not easy to hear that, considering everything, but that’s the way it is, yeah. This is a mission for us, and Leader won’t forgive any more failures.”


She nodded solemnly, disappointed but not surprised by his words, yet happy at the same time to hear him call her his friend.


He reached across the table and grabbed her forearm gently, offering what little reassurance he could. “I wish there was another way, yeah. I know you’ll fight with your teammates, I wouldn’t expect any less of you, and we’ll all do what we have to do. But Sakura, if I have to hurt you…kill you even…I will be sorry,” he said softly, as much sincerity and regret in his tone as he could convey.


She turned her arm in his grasp so that she could grab his wrist in the same, comforting way. Her brow creased and her lip trembled slightly, but she remained calm and looked at him with bright, soulful eyes. “Me too.”


They remained that way in silence for a long time, thoughts of what was coming hanging above them like a cloud.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Snow began to fall shortly after midday, and by late afternoon there was a thick white blanket covering everything outside the fortress walls. Growing up in Fire country, snow was a rare novelty to Sakura and it wasn’t long at all before she was outside, her spirits lifted for the first time in days.


Of course she wasn’t alone. Kisame, who had been the one to see her peering excitedly at the sky out of one of the dust covered windows, had trailed after her as she ran down the steps and out the door partly because she was still their hostage and couldn’t be allowed to roam outside alone, and partly because seeing her like that awoke his curiosity and made him feel just a bit more cheerful.


Now he stood under the corrugated awning, watching the petite pink haired girl skipping around happily in the fresh snow with an amused smile on his shark-like features. A couple minutes later Deidara walked out of the open door. He started to ask what Kisame was doing standing there with the door open but stopped when he saw Sakura in the yard.


Small flurries whirled past in the wind, and she laughed with childlike enthusiasm and twirled around with them, her cloak billowing out around her, and she turned her face to the sky and opened her mouth to try and catch the falling flakes on her tongue. To Deidara, snow was the perfect example of art; beautiful, fragile, and gone in an instant. It made him smile to see her dancing and running about like a child, her musical laughter filling the silence, the wonder of nature’s art making her so happy. It was beautiful, and he found himself thinking that this moment of art was one he wanted to last forever.


Kisame saw the look on the shorter man’s face and regarded him with a wicked grin. Deidara turned his head in the shark’s direction with a glare, prepared to retort whatever snarky comment was coming his way, when suddenly a blurry ball of white smashed into the side of Kisame’s head.


The giant shark man half grunted, half yelped in surprise and quickly turned in the projectile’s direction as Deidara burst into loud laughter at his comrade’s expense. Sakura was doubled over with laughter as well, her arm raised toward Kisame, one cold-nipped finger pointing jeeringly at the shark whose face and shoulder was covered in flaky white.


“Oh, come on, Kisame! That was terrible! If that had been a kunai you’d be so dead!” she laughed harder, the tail end of her laugh turning into a squeal as Kisame advanced on her with a sadistic grin and she skipped away.


The two began to circle each other, gathering handfuls of snow and packing them into balls while eyeing each other warily. Kisame was the first to launch his snowball, and Sakura yelped playfully as she dove aside. The battle was on.


A minute later Tobi appeared in the still open doorway next to Deidara, who was watching the snowball war with an amused grin. Tobi saw what was going on and ran out to join the other two with as much childlike enthusiasm as Sakura had shown. Several more minutes passed as the three-way battle raged on with shouts of surprise and laughter, and it wasn’t long before Deidara had to jump aside to avoid the snowball aimed directly at his chest. It smashed against the side of the wall near the doorframe, and he looked out at the three grinning ninja, not sure who had thrown it.


“Come on, Deidara-senpai! Come and play with us!” Tobi hollered excitedly, waving his arm in invitation.


Sakura was looking at the blonde with a wicked grin, and she bent to scoop up another snowball all the while staring into his ice-blue eyes challengingly. She launched it at him with a laugh and he dodged, and with a devilish smirk, he moved off the porch to join in the fight.


It was every man for himself, though Tobi received the majority of the pelting due to his blind spot. They ran around the wide flat area in front of the fort for quite a while, the four of them laughing and shouting and flinging snowy projectiles with mirthful abandon. It was the most fun Sakura could remember having in a long time, and by the look of it, the same could be said for the three men as well.


Some time after the play fighting began, Sakura looked toward the building and was slightly surprised to see Itachi standing there, leaning against the open doorframe with his arms crossed. The sounds of their shouting and laughter must have drawn his attention, or perhaps it was the cold draft from the door they had forgotten to close. He had an expression of mild interest and almost-amusement, and she figured for him that meant he was enjoying himself.


He hardly spared a glance at the other three, instead watching her with that same burning intensity she had come to recognize, so much so that she could feel it even when she wasn’t looking back at him. She both loved and hated the way he looked at her. She loved how intense it was, how it made her feel like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at, how she could see in his gaze all the things he couldn’t show and say. But at the same time she hated how those beautiful eyes could make her forget everything else, how they penetrated to her very soul and stripped it bare until she had nothing left to fight him. And mostly, she hated that she wanted him to do more than look, more than watch her every movement like a man starved. She hated how she wished he would act on the things she saw burning in those hypnotic depths and do something.


Itachi continued to watch her run around and play with his comrades. She smiled at him, and tried not to get irritated when he showed no reaction. She felt a strong urge to throw a snowball at him, to try and force him to react to something, but she didn’t have quite enough courage to do such an obviously perilous thing.


Kisame, however, felt no such reserve and launched two snowballs at his partner. Even without the Sharingan he saw them coming and casually stepped aside as they smashed into the wall. He had to dodge a bit quicker a second later to avoid the ball Deidara threw after anticipating his sideways movement. His brow furrowed just slightly at that, and it was soon obvious that there was a mutually unspoken decision to pick on the killjoy of the group as Tobi joined in and threw his snowball at Itachi as well, followed right after by another from Kisame.


Sakura laughed. If Tobi could throw snowballs at the Uchiha and get away with it then damn it so could she, and she gleefully launched one of her own at the indignant man who now had to vacate the small porch area as it was too narrow to avoid all the flying snow coming his way.


Kisame was practically howling with laughter at the sight of his partner jumping nimbly out of the way as each fresh snowball flew at him at rapid speed. Itachi leapt up onto the corrugated overhang and fixed them all with a look of mild surprise and amused indignation. Sakura wondered if anyone had ever attempted to play around with him before, knowing the harsh and militaristic life he’d had as a child. Maybe Sasuke had tried, but knowing how Sasuke was, that seemed a bit far fetched. She felt bad for the boys they had been; little boys that had never known what it was like to play with friends. To make it up to him, she threw a snowball particularly fast and hard at his chest, which actually managed to catch him on the shoulder as he moved aside.


Itachi looked at his snow-covered shoulder and back to Sakura; its source. The look on his face was absolutely priceless, and she burst in to loud laughter, not thinking that it might not be such a good idea to laugh at him after she’d just hit him with a flying ball of snow.


Apparently Sakura’s laughter was the trigger, because Itachi decided to remain impassive no longer and their eyes all went wide when, rather than gather his own snowball to throw, he made hand seals.


There was a loud rushing sound as the air began to whirl around them and fill with drops of condensed moisture, and a moment later they were being pelted with freezing shards of rain. Itachi wasn’t making the ice/sleet, he had used a water jutsu, but the frigid air and high winds turned the water in the air to frozen little pellets almost instantly, and the four of them had to cover their heads and faces with their hands to avoid the harsh pelting of the jutsu.


It was over soon, only lasting long enough to blast them with a few stinging slivers and make his point. They straightened themselves and removed any clinging ice particles and looked toward their assailant. Itachi jumped down from the overhang and faced them all smugly with an undisguised smirk on his features. Then, he turned and walked back into the building. They all laughed at his little payback, knowing that it was his own way of joining in their game and that just maybe, he’d had fun.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


They all decided to end their game and go back inside when the sun began to set and it got too cold and windy to stay out. They invaded the kitchen and raided the pantry for things to make for dinner, all of them picking out whatever they wanted and deciding to cook it all. Itachi joined them shortly after they came in, but sat quietly at the table and didn’t join in their romping and joking, as usual, though he seemed rather content and there was even a small smirk detectable on his face at times.


While they waited and took turns preparing the meal, or attempted to, the rest of them sat around the table with a large bottle of sake – for warmth, of course - while Sakura performed a makeshift triage. Ninja snowball fights were not child’s play, and she spent some time healing black eyes and bruises and frostbitten fingers before the food was done and they all sat down to eat.


Dinner was full of crude jokes and laughing at stupid things, all of them in better moods than they had been in days. It was the most fun Sakura had had in recent memory, but it was bittersweet. This surreal, almost family-like life they had settled into over the last three weeks would end abruptly any day now. Some of them may die, and those who lived would return to the lives they had before. Sakura seemed to be the thing that brought them all together, just as she was the glue in her own team’s cohesion. But unlike her team, who all had individual bonds outside of her, she knew the four Akatsuki would split into two teams and go their separate way again as soon as this was over.


Itachi and Deidara respected each other as ninja, but otherwise held a mutual dislike for each other as people, something she had come to figure out but didn’t know the reason for and didn’t have the nerve to ask either of them. Tobi was disregarded by the other two, and therefore was loyal only to his partner and didn’t try to befriend anyone else besides Sakura. And Kisame, he didn’t seem to give a damn one way or the other what happened to any of them, though he was a loyal and trusted partner to Itachi.


It was her that brought them all together, although the circumstances were far from ordinary. And as for herself, she knew that she could not continue to be friends with any of them if they did anything to hurt one of her teammates. Not even Deidara. She respected that they were all simply on opposing sides and were just doing their jobs, but her deeper love and loyalties lay with her lifelong companions and she could not forgive it if one of them were killed or hurt by her new friends. And as for Itachi, whatever was between them would end the moment he met his brother in battle or tried to hurt Naruto.


A part of her couldn’t help but wish that day would never come.


And as pointless as it was to think that way, apparently she wasn’t the only one to think it, because the topic of conversation had turned to just that.


“It’s so much more fun when Sakura-san is around isn’t it? I wish she didn’t have to leave,” Tobi said wistfully.


That dampened their mood somewhat, and the table became rather quiet as they all thought about the same thing in their own context. Deidara was staring at his plate with the frown-pout, irritated that Tobi had killed the mood and also troubled by the words themselves. Kisame looked thoughtful and took a deep swig of the sake bottle. Itachi was looking at her with an unreadable expression, and Sakura held his gaze in the hope that he would convey some silent message to her. Once again, nothing was given, but the fact that he was looking at her so intently meant he did think something about the idea of her leaving them.


Kisame, who was steadily getting drunk, decided he would enlighten them on his personal feelings about the subject. “It’s certainly been amusing having her around,” he slurred, a toothy grin on his features. “Woulda been more fun if she had bigger tits though…” he sighed and took another drink.


Sakura laughed incredulously. “My tits are fine the way they are, thank you very much, and I certainly don’t feel the need to cater my appearance to you, shark boy. Don’t be so damn rude,” she scolded playfully.


The former Mist nin snickered and waved his hand in apology. “Sorry, princess, but my mother didn’t teach me any manners either.”


Sakura’s smile froze and she blinked in surprise. He had to be referring to what she’d said to Itachi that night in the dining room when he’d almost kissed her. That meant Itachi had told him what had happened, had confided in him. She never would have expected that. Still, she figured, they had been partners for over a decade now. They trusted each other and whether they would admit to it or not, they were friends. Kisame didn’t seem to have realized what he’d given away in his intoxicated state, and she looked quickly to Itachi but he was purposely no longer looking at her.


The others had no idea that there was an underlying implication to Kisame’s words, so she recovered quickly and laughed at the drunken shark. “You had a mother? I always assumed you spawned out of a fish egg or something,” she teased.


They all laughed loudly, and they were all surprised to see Itachi give a small chuckle at the joke as well. He was certainly acting different today; he seemed more relaxed and almost sociable. She wondered what had gotten into him.


The remaining dinner was pleasant and lighthearted, with more crude jokes and more teasing the increasingly drunken Kisame. Sakura helped Tobi clean up and then they all sat around with the sake and talked some more. Itachi was the first to leave for his own quarters; one could only expect so much socializing out of the stoic Uchiha in one day. Tobi went soon after, the effects of sake making him too tired to remain awake. The rest of the night’s conversation was between Sakura and Deidara, with Kisame adding his mostly inappropriate opinions here and there until he was too drunk to talk straight. Eventually Deidara got up and said goodnight to her, before their talk could turn melancholy like it had earlier in the day, and Sakura was left alone with Kisame, who was now out cold.


She thought about tending to the drunken shark and helping him burn off some of the alcohol, but decided against it in the end. It served him right for drinking so much and if he had a massive hangover tomorrow it was his own fault. With a final snort of amusement at the small puddle of drool forming on the table under Kisame’s head, she stood up and made her way down the cold stone corridors toward the private quarters.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Halfway to her room she stopped in the hallway, a sudden impulse taking over her thoughts. After a long moment of indecision and weighing the options, she continued down the hall and past her own quarters, stopping quietly in front of the door she knew to be Itachi’s room.


He had to know someone was outside his room, and he more than likely knew it was her, so she hesitantly raised her hand and knocked softly on the door. A moment later she heard the quiet, muffled acquiescence, and she slowly opened the door and went inside. Warm air rushed to greet her as she stepped into the small bedroom and quietly closed the door behind her. The burning coals in the heater were the only source of illumination, and the pulsing embers cast flickering shadows across the stone walls.


Itachi was standing in just his dark shirt and pants, his dark eyes fixed intently on her, his expression only slightly curious. The firelight cast deep shadows across his features and illuminated the definition of his muscles through his snug shirt and across his exposed arms. He was so beautiful that for a moment all she could do was stare at him until his soft voice broke her out of her reverie.


“Did you need something, Sakura?” he asked, his tone low and smooth as velvet.


What a double edged question, she thought. And he knows it. Did she need something? Why did she come here? He was waiting for her to answer, so she said the first thing that came to mind.


“I wanted to do a final check up on your eyes.” It wasn’t exactly untrue, she did want to see if they were holding up, but she knew that wasn’t what made her turn away from her own room and come here so late at night.


“Ah.”


“Do you have a few minutes?”


“Of course,” he said softly, the small smirk on his features was amplified by the flickering fire, making it look like he was almost smiling. It was strange to see.


He made no move or gesture to her, simply stood still in the center of the room and waited for her to take the first step. She slowly walked up until she was directly in front of him and slipped her cloak off to lay across the small desk before looking into his dark gaze. His eyes were positively smoldering, and his hitai-ate was already off, causing him to look even more striking in the low light. It was all a bit distracting, and she had to force herself to focus on what she’d said she came here to do.


She reached up and gently placed her fingertips at his temples, brushing his hair aside as she did, and slowly sent her chakra into him. After a moment he closed his eyes, his dark lashes casting long shadows across his defined cheekbones, which only made it easier for her to stare at him. It also wasn’t helping that they were standing very close and she could once again feel that almost magnetic pull toward him. She was losing her concentration, and she closed her eyes as well to drown out those overwhelming urges.


A minute later she suppressed a sharp intake of breath as his fingers grazed lightly over her outer thighs before his hands settled gently on her hips. His thumbs began stroking the tops of her hipbones and she fought the urge to step forward into him. For the first time in days he was closing that distance, he was reacting. It was what she had been hoping for.


His eyes were fine, and maybe it was time they both stopped playing games.


She ceased the flow of chakra and lowered her hands to rest lightly against the sides of his neck. “Your eyes are fine,” she said quietly, still not opening her eyes as she concentrated on the feel of his thumbs stroking her hips. Her reality always seemed to sharpen when he was near her like this, she was aware of everything in detail; how close they were, the pull of tension between their bodies, the heat of the fire at her back, the feel of his hands, yet at the same time everything outside of them seemed to fade away to insignificance.


“Is that really why you came here, Sakura?” he asked, moving just a little bit closer. His voice was so soft, almost a whisper, but it echoed in every corner of her being.


Taking a deep breath, she slowly uncurled her fists to run the backs of her fingers along his neck, and with as much boldness as she could gather, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “No,” she whispered, and felt the electric tingle all the way to her core as she watched his eyes darken and burn at her words.


Another small step forward, and the pressure of his hands increased slightly. He tilted his head and gave her his sexiest smirk. “Then why?” he whispered.


She had no explanation, no reason other than exactly what was happening now, so she answered him by closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his.


She had never initiated any intimacy between them, and his lips responded immediately to her kiss, but his hands tensed against her hips for a moment. After his initial surprise, his grip tightened and he pressed her against him as he wrapped his arms around her lower back, returning her kiss hungrily.


Emboldened by his response, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, her breasts pressing into his chest as she deepened the kiss, her tongue meeting his passionately. He was responding, returning her kiss eagerly, but it felt different than before, like a part of him was hesitating. Slowly she pulled back and looked into his eyes.


Those dark depths held desire, but there was also reservation. Her fingers brushed the nape of his neck and she leaned up to kiss him again and while he made no move to stop her, he didn’t tilt his head to meet hers again and she could feel him tense slightly, so she stopped just before meeting his lips.


What the hell? He would let her kiss him and eventually respond but he wouldn’t initiate anything or meet her halfway? He was obviously still unsettled by this thing between them, whatever it was, and he was trying to resist it. But then why was he the one to put his hands on her and ask those leading questions? This thing needed to be resolved one way or another, tonight.


“Itachi…what is this?” she asked very quietly.


His eyes still fixed intently on hers, though his expression was once again blank. But she wasn’t fooled by that anymore. “What do you mean, Sakura?” he asked mildly.


He knew damn well what she meant, and she wasn’t going to let him do this. “This thing between us…what am I to you?”


He tensed just slightly, and she lowered her arms from around his neck. After a moment he lowered his hands from her waist and stepped away, still holding her gaze as if she had challenged him. In a way, she had. But if he said something along the line of ‘simply a hostage’ or ‘nothing’ she would slap that blank look off of his face, consequences be damned.


“An unexpected turn of events,” he said casually, his voice and expression betraying nothing. It was true enough to not be a lie, but vague and unspecified enough to not convey anything personal.


Damn him. She didn’t want to push him into shutting down completely, but he was beginning to make her angry. “Is that it?” she asked in a low voice.


“What do you expect me to say?” he asked evenly.


“Bad weather is an ‘unexpected turn of events’, Itachi, not this. This is more than that and you know it. I want you to stop talking like what’s going on between us is some abstract thing and acknowledge your part in it. I want you to take responsibility for your own feelings and choices that led us to this point,” she said quietly but firmly.


His brow furrowed just slightly and he turned partly away. “I thought you realized by now that I have no use for things such as feelings, Sakura.”


“That doesn’t mean you don’t have them, sometimes.”


A small clench of his jaw was his only response.


“Even if it’s nothing more than physical lust, it’s still a feeling, and one that you’ve been unwilling or unable to control with me,” she saw his eyes flinch minutely. “I don’t know why either; I’m as confused by it as you are. Neither of us expected or wanted this to happen, but it did. Stop denying that it’s something real when I can feel it even now as we speak,” she insisted quietly.


“I think you draw too many conclusions,” he said, a slight edge to his voice now.


“Do I? Then why aren’t you looking at me, Itachi?”


His jaw clenched again, and he turned toward her and locked his eyes with hers. The weight of his gaze on her held more substance than touch, and her pulse quickened. “What is it you expect of me, Sakura?” he asked, almost accusingly.


“I’m not asking for anything. I only want you to be honest with me and with yourself.”


“I have no need to lie.”


“Not telling lies isn’t the same as being honest. You act so indifferent, so cold. And I know that with most things you are indifferent. But every time we…that kiss a moment ago…was anything but cold.”


His expression changed just slightly, his blank mask dropping for a brief moment, but he didn’t answer her or give any other sign that he acknowledged her words. She waited, hoping she had gotten through, but nothing came; he just continued to stare at her with that same intense yet emotionless gaze.


She could see she was getting nowhere. He wouldn’t stop her if she threw herself at him, but he wouldn’t take any accountability for what happened by starting anything himself again. She was fuming and immensely frustrated. She would never have thought Itachi capable of being a coward.


Her expression hardened and her posture tensed as she looked at him with scorn in her eyes. “Fine. I guess I was wrong,” she said coldly, then turned and walked away.


She reached the door and stretched her arm to grab the knob when she heard him finally speak.


“Sakura…”


In the quiet murmur of her name she caught the unmistakable and profound undertone:


Wait…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


A/N: Oh, you know what’s coming don’t you? ::grins wickedly::

I know I’m a tease but don’t hate me! I promise it will be worth waiting another week for!