The Tortued Chapter 2 ItaSaku

             It had been two years since that fateful night… Two years since the Uchiha clan fell from its great height in a bloody massacre that already darkened Fire Country’s history books.  Overshadowed, but not forgotten, the night was marked by some as a double tragedy—it was the night Haruno Sakura disappeared from the world.  The fears were obvious ones: the girl had run away from home into a forest plagued by an escaping traitor.  That Uchiha Itachi had murdered Haruno Sakura became accepted as fact.  The truth…

Emerald green eyes peaked out warily from under the matching foliage she had used to conceal herself.  She stilled her breathing to inaudible pants, lowering her Chakra to a level that would not only cloak her location but decrease his wariness.  She crouched lower, ignoring the pressure of her knee digging into her chest and the sharp branches braced against her arms.  Her heart was pounding; she could feel its erratic beat where her thigh met her rib cage.  A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.  To underestimate him would mean…  His back was to her, in far too plain of view.  It screamed ‘trap!’ in a way that made her tremble.  This time, she would…

Did Sakura really think she was being secretive?  She thought she was so well hidden.  He stood motionless, sensing her dampened Chakra.  He toyed momentarily with a kunai concealed in his sleeve as he waited patiently for her to make the first move.  It came quickly –she never was one to wait– a sudden rustle as she burst free of the undergrowth.  She hurled a pair of shuriken at him with deadly accuracy… Accuracy that would have been deadly, had he been another other than Uchiha Itachi.  She was still too slow; her defeat was about to be handed to her on the end of a blade.

He rounded on her, face betraying none of the power and force behind his movements.  With the barest of actions, effortlessly, he raised his hand and brushed aside her weapons with a few careful flicks of his own.  Deflected, they struck the surrounding tress with enough force to dig deeply into the bark.  Calm down!  Calm down!  She cursed herself mentally, throwing her body sideways in case he decided to answer her volley with another.  The corners of Itachi’s lips had turned up in the barest of triumphant smirks.  She fell back into the foliage again, refusing to present him with a completely obvious target.

It made little difference—with deft hands he peppered the brush with kunai, striking… nothing.  She was getting faster.  Suddenly, he felt her Chakra bloom behind him, and he spun in time to block her sharp strike.  Her eyes bore into his, green pools burning with desperate determination and a fear she was trying and failing to hide.  Her emotions would spell her defeat.

“Bunshin Bakuha.” The words slid dark and heavy over his lips.  With a shimmer of haze, three clones crowded the clearing, menace apparent on their faces.

“Kuso!” She bit her lip, knowing the danger she had left herself open to.  One clone charged forward, kunai bared and glinting in the morning sun.  If she did not react…  Automatically her hands flew into the necessary seals.  “Kawarimi no jutsu!”  Just as the throwing blade suck into her flesh, an explosion of smoke exposed the body to be nothing but a log.  With the real Itachi in her sight, she leapt clear of the trees again, prepared to end the battle for good.  She could feel the warm shock of Chakra burning through her system…

Itachi spun, crimson of the Sharingan pooling into his eyes, and with movements more natural than her own, he systematically followed her hand seals.  That cheat!  Damn him!  She hissed in frustration as they simultaneously lifted fingers to their lips.

“Katon, Ryuuka no jutsu!”  They called together, and he could not help but enjoy the way their voices sounded together, ragged as an animalistic howl…The streams of flame cut off their words, and the dragons of fire spiraled after each other, high through the trees, snapping and roaring.  Neither managed to strike their targets, and he had already begun to battle in the shimmering heat of their wake.  One of the spare clones drove the pink-haired ninja back, their weapons locked and fighting for dominance.  From where he stood calmly across the clearing, he could hear her chastising herself for letting her guard down, for not thinking every step through.

The clone finally forced aside her kunai and bought his own up to her throat.  Sakura gasped at the sudden cold pressure, and a single drop of blood rolled down the dark metal.  This is… Her father flashed sharply before her eyes, grin cold and wry.

Don’t you want to be strong Sakura, don’t you want to make me proud?

“I’m bleeding…” Her voice was the whisper of a tiny girl again.

Why can’t you dodge it Sakura?  It was slow enough!  Why can’t you block it Sakura?.!  You’re weak!  Get stronger—I won’t let you disgrace our name.  Block it!  THROW IT BACK!

“I-I can’t!” She felt her feet crumble under her, she knew she was falling… Fear of what was not in front of her made her weak.  Desperately, she tried to catch herself, stepping backward clumsily, she only managed to jam her heel in a mossy log, tripping across the rough bark and earning herself a dirty scrape.  The explosive clone halted its movements, glaring at her fallen form with a look that was half intrigue and half disapproval.  Without allowing her any time to move he detonated his double.  The force of the explosion seared on her legs, and clumps of grass shrapnel would surely leave bruises where they’d glanced across her pale skin.

Silently, she laid on the ground for a few moments, recounting every mistake she had made during their battle.  If only I had…

“Damn it!” He could hear the dejection in her voice and in her movements as she slammed her hand into the earth.  She did not need to feel so defeated.  He was a genius even by Konoha, strongest of the ninja nations, standards.  He was capable of destroying one of the greatest and most renowned clans of all the nations—that she could not best him was not surprising.  

But the fact that he now needed more than one body to hold back her attacks, now needed the Sharingan to predict her movements was a testament to how far she had already come.  She had a memory that rivaled his own, a clear head in battle that kept her on par with his motion for longer than he ever believed possible.  More still, even though she was a girl, she was strong and well-built.  He knew that if she continued to extend herself, her brute strength would quickly surpass his own.  She was slower than she should have been, but her natural affinity for genjutsu and her adaptability made it easy for him to teach her techniques he had long amassed for his own private use.  She was in many ways the perfect student, a living weapon.

She climbed angrily to her feet, kicking the log that had scraped her.  Her head hung low, unable to meet the gaze he leveled at her from across the hollow.  She had failed, again, to put a scratch or land a punch on him.  Bowed in on herself, she almost missed him crossing to stand before her.  The sudden light pressure she felt through her scarred headband startled her, and she looked up at his fingers, poking her forehead through the jagged metal plate marking her forgotten allegiance.

"We’re done for now.” He murmured.  For a moment she could only listen to his voice, the voice of the boy who had rescued her so long ago from the dark prison of her family, from that village that had allowed her to suffer…  She dusted off the last flecks of dirt from her skirt.

“Hai Itachi-sama.” He let the other clones, who had been standing around idly, dissolve, and he turned his back to her.  The sun had barely risen and it was already blazing hot.  Half from habit and half from the lingering perfection that plagued him, Itachi reached up easily to run a hand through his ponytail, breaking down the knots that formed during their training.  The ends were ragged, long overdue for cutting.

Sakura watched the strong rays of the sun glint on his black strands, brilliant and flawlessly ordered.  With his midnight eyes half closed in concentration there was no other way to describe him but beautiful, and for a second Sakura felt her cheeks growing warm with a faint blush.  She bit her lip hurriedly and forced it down.  Handsome or not, Uchiha Itachi was still a missing-nin and a ninja of incredible strength—he would not appreciate her acting silly over something like looks.  Still, while her mind thought, her body seemed to move on its own, taking small but steady steps in his direction.

Satisfied that tangles weren’t marring his normally managed image, he lowered his hand and was about leave the charred clearing when he suddenly felt a soft hand run the ends of his hair.  He spun around, instinctively searching for the first weapon he could reach.  He did not raise the shuriken, knowing full well who the touch belonged to.  With a guilty smile, Sakura pulled her hands back and bowed her head sheepishly.  With an almost silent ‘hmph!’ he turned back and began to walk away—but not before he’d throw his hair over his shoulder.  He didn’t need her hands all over him…

“So this is the legendary Uchiha Itachi.”  The gruff voice sounded from all around them at once, ringing through the trees like a gravelly bell.  Itachi stopped shortly, but did not bother looking up from the forest floor.  With highly trained senses he pinpointed the intruder in seconds.  Interesting… Whoever was behind the voice had an immense amount of Chakra.  Sakura seemed to have sensed it too, because she inched closer to him, until her back was almost pressed to his, and together they both slowly drew kunai.

Whoever the voice belonged to, he had picked the wrong pair of ninja to try and intimidate. Who is this and how does he know Itachi-sama?  Sakura tensed from any attack that might come.  Like fog, the already clean air shimmered and faded away, inviting in the source of the Chakra they could both feel pressing down.  Sakura gasped as he came into view, and even Itachi was unsettled though it barely showed.  How could this thing be walking on two legs?  She could hardly believe what she was seeing—was it a man or a shark?  She swore she’d seen a similar monster in Konoha’s Oceanarium once.  Her eyes ran along his headband, which also bore a scar. He’s from the Mist.

“What the hell are you?” The question slipped utterly unbidden from her lips, but she did not regret asking.  The shark man formed visibly, black and white eyes narrowing in dislike.  How dare such a little brat question him so rudely!  He was the infamous Hoshigaki Kisame, one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist!

“I’m a missing-nin from Kirigakure, can’t you see that you stupid girl?”  He turned to look at her dark-haired companion with a calculating glare.  “Uchiha Itachi, you have proven yourself powerful enough to attract our leader’s attention.  I have come here to invite you to join the most powerful organization in all the nations—Akatsuki.  Will you join of your own accord,” his blue-gray lips split in a sneer, revealing impossibly sharp teeth, “Or will I have to convince you?”

Sakura should have kept herself quiet, but this man irked Itachi too. What organization searched out convicts?  Strongest in all the nations… ‘Have to convince you?’  Was this shark ninja threatening him?  He could feel the power of the Sharingan starting to well up, and stepped toward the man—he would test this nuke-nin, and then consider his proposal.

Sakura grinned dangerously at his side, that glinting look in her emerald eyes that promised violence.  This man was ignoring her as if she was completely insignificant.  Being treated like she was nothing was something the pink-haired girl could not stand, whether or not it was the world’s ugliest man ignoring her.  She felt Itachi’s Chakra beginning to rise, and she instantly knew what he was planning to do.

“Wait Itachi-sama, let me fight him.”  She stared intently up at her teacher with a look that begged indulgence.  Why should Itachi dirty his hands with this man?  Even if she could not win, she wanted to try.  She wanted to be of use to him somehow—he was the only one who had bothered to teach her, to make her strong…

“Fine,” he mused.  Why shouldn’t she try?  It would be the perfect opportunity to see how she stood up to other high level ninja, as opposed to the weaklings she’d defeated for their mercenary pay.  How much had two years of intense training changed her?  And if this strange ninja was too much for his little companion, what would it matter?  Of course, if he disliked the man’s methods he would interfere—but not to save her.  Certainly she didn’t mean that much.

As if she had not been waiting for permission at all, Sakura took a firm step forward.  She couldn’t help but mentally joke that perhaps the intruder used his looks more than his skills to frighten his enemies into submission.  Kisame growled in frustration at the sudden challenge, but if the girl had a death wish, so be it.  His Chakra swelled, and Sakura began to plan her attack.

Itachi stepped back, leaning disinterestedly against a tree, pale arms crossed in front of him.  This should prove to be decent battle, at the least.  His pink-haired companion slipped into a defensive stance, leaf green eyes narrowed and determined, watching the wrapped weapon Kisame pulled off his back.  He unwrapped it quickly, and for a moment Sakura wanted to laugh: it looked like a porcupine, not a sword.  Remembering that all things were not what they appeared, she forced herself to take him more seriously.

“What are you waiting for girl?”  He leveled his spiny blade in her direction, eyes daring her to make a move.  Without lifting her glare from him, she snapped out, flinging three shuriken as speedily as she could.  “Too slow!” He deflected them just as Itachi had earlier, a smug look shining on his face.  Balancing his weapon, his hands flew into a series of seals.  She had to move!  Using the forest to her advantage, she leapt into the high tree branches, just as he shouted out his attack.

“Suiton, Umi no Dangan!” A series of watery projectiles sped in her direction.  Kuso!  He’s using water vapor in the air!  The water ripped through the tree’s limbs below her, sharpening and only gaining speed.  An idea flashed in her mind and her fingers tore through a row of seals.  Leaping clear of the tree, she turning to face the chasing liquid bullets.

“Katon, Housenka no jutsu!”  Fireballs blazed through the fingers she had lifted to her mouth, flying straight to strike each of the approaching water bombs—where each clashed, steam rose thick and heavy, filling their battlefield with an impenetrable mist.  Kisame grinned greedily, pleased she had managed to evade at least one attack.  But the mist was his element, and no little girl was going to best him.  Behind, he felt a source of Chakra, and from the shadowy fog, he saw a body running straight at him.  He spun quickly to face Sakura, kunai glinting in the half light.  He swung Samehada furiously, but when the jagged edge made contact with her form, the body went up in a puff of smoke.  A decoy, and he’d fallen for it!  Another body exploded from the steam, tossing a volley of kunai directly at his face.  With less success than before, he brushed them off.

Just how many copies had she made?  A third form came hurling toward him.  Expecting it, he swung his sword across the copy and spun, ready for the next Bunshin.  The ripping sound and following gasp of pain stunned him, and looked back to see Sakura bleeding and holding Samehada free of her scraped side.  That one was real!  She struck out visciously, ignoring the pain, and stabbed her kunai into his extended shoulder.  Impressive! Kisame smirked, But not enough. Samehada rippled to life, eager for more of the blood spilled across its skin.

“It’s all over now, little girl.”  Sakura tried to leap back but felt her Chakra slowly draining away.  Confusion momentarily lanced through her, until it struck home—the sword!  The sword was devouring her Chakra!  She pulled away from it desperately, but Kisame reached out one rough hand, and as if she was a rag doll, he ripped her forward and then away, sending her slamming into a tree with force that stole her breath.  With a wicked, fanged grin, he advanced on her, peeling sword pointed toward her heart.  She felt rage pulse through her, determination reawakening her muscles.  She wasn’t going to fail!

With striking speed, she flipped using what Chakra remained to glue her feet to trunk.  Steadily striding, she race up the oak to its highest limb.  Kisame glared up at her, watching her retreat with wary eyes.  When she threw herself into the open air high above her opponent, Itachi’s dark gaze narrowed in recognition.  That attack…  She turned over once, descending  like a bullet, and then at the last second, changed directions with a twist and landed on a low branch across the hollow.  With experienced eyes, Kisame followed her movements until something else caught his gaze.

“Paper?” Hundreds of tiny petals fell like snow around him, drifting on the half breeze.  Sakura smiled ferally, green irises alight with pleasure even as she held the wound in her side.

“Ame no Sakura.” Kisame turned his furious gaze on her again, and noticed the victory evident in her smirk. “Katsu!” Simultaneously the miniature explosive tags erupted in flame from the ground to where she’d thrown them, high in the canopy.  The Mist nin, cursing and shielding his eyes, was engulfed in the hail of dirt and smoke.

Itachi allowed the faintest of smirks to slip onto his face, having been on the receiving end of Sakura’s favorite attack more than once.  This ‘Kisame’ was definitely interesting, but Sakura’s intelligence had proven superior.  If she did not always simply accept defeat when they trained, she would probably be even stronger… Kisame emerged from the smoke burnt and cut, still physically in decent shape but nursing a severely wounded ego.

“You little bitch!”  He waved Samehada threateningly. “I’ll kick you ass!”  As if his presence alone could halt the battle, the Mist ninja fell nervously silent when Itachi shifted and stood from leaning on the tree.

“What is this ‘Akatsuki’?” He queried, purposefully sharp and aloof.  Dusting off the blasting powder and ash left by Sakura’s attack, Kisame grinned sharkishly down on the Uchiha, one of the most promising killers in years.

“Shouting our aims to an undefended forest and-” he snarled as Sakura returned to her place at Itachi’s side, “An unintended audience is a mistake only an idiot would make.”  Itachi nodded reluctantly, observing that Kisame was at least experience enough not to spill information like blood.  “But I can tell you what we offer.”  The smirk and pointed white teeth grew only more apparent. “Power.” The word alone was enough to turn Sakura’s head, to attract more of Itachi’s attention.  She suddenly thought that instead of the fish, Kisame was playing angler, and like trophy prizes, they were the ones being reeled in.  “If you are interested, I can take you to meet our leader in a more guarded area.”

There was a double danger in the offer that set her teeth on edge.  If they agreed and went to this place, it could easily turn out to be a trap—and though the pain of the wound she had already bandaged was slight, it was enough to impair her.  If this was a trick, and they ended up battling their way out, she wouldn’t be able to keep up for long—she’d hinder him, the one thing she had promised never to do…  And worse, if Itachi refused to join after seeing their operation and knowing their plans, they surely wouldn’t be allowed to just walk away.  Yet they could not afford to ignore Hoshigaki Kisame’s offer—Konoha’s ANBU had been on and off their trail for months, and even approaching cities was becoming difficult.  They needed a place to base themselves, or they were going to have to move half way across the world to escape their reputations.  Sakura sighed quietly to herself.  If it did prove a trap, Itachi could just as easily retreat from the situation.

With a grin that was half relief and half triumph, the shark ninja began to wrap his weapon again.  A flourish returned it to its locked position across his back.

“You can come Itachi, but the girl can’t.”  Indignant rage burnt through her, and without even thinking Sakura’s hand darted like a bird, raining the ground near the offending Akatsuki member’s purple painted toes with an explosive tags on the end of her kunai.  He dodged and bristled with renewed fury.  “You stupid—” He looked ready to tear her limb from limb, but an even glance from Itachi closed his mouth.  “Keep your whore on her leash Uchiha.” He huffed finally, not about to be deprived the last word.  She growled loudly in return, intent on throwing more than just another kunai at him.  How dare he imply—the very thought made her cheeks grow hot.  She belonged to Itachi, but not…  She bit her lip again, beyond frustrated.  How dare that freak just waltz up and treat her like dirt!  For a moment she was ready to go at him again, despite the slowly fading throb in her side.

“This ‘little girl’ managed to stand your equal in combat.  If you are worthy of this Akatsuki organization, it would follow that she is as well.” Kisame balked at the words, unsure.  Uchiha Itachi hadn’t spent two years training her to leave her somewhere in the woods.  “If the battle had continued, she may have defeated you.”  Sakura had the strange habit of becoming only more sharp and determined after sustaining injury, where other ninja would have faltered.  “Perhaps she has proven herself more worthy than you.”  Sakura smiled weakly in relief.  Itachi was not going to leave her for some new challenge…  If he had chosen to go without here?  She would have followed his orders, even if it meant being left utterly alone… again.  “Let him live for now Sakura.”  With a sigh that rung with exaggerated disappointment and subtle happiness, she put away the shuriken she’d aimed at the Mist ninja’s blue-gray face.

Kisame glared at the pair of them, knowing when he had been boxed into a corner.  Itachi wouldn’t follow without the girl, and she wasn’t choosing to take a step away from his side.  Damn…

“Fine,” he growled, “But she’ll probably die.  Little whores,” he ground the word into her like a blade, “Shouldn’t try to play with the ninja.”

“Itachi-sama…” She forced her voice to remain even and pleasant, “If he calls me that again, I can’t guarantee I won’t harm him.”   Though his face hardly showed it, she could tell the entire affair amused him.  Kisame was far from amused however, hearing her completely undisguised proclamation with disgust.  He’d pay her back for making him look foolish… Later.  Right now he had his orders, and that meant playing nice.

Swiftly they followed the felon ninja through the forest, jumping so rapidly from branch to branch that few eyes could have followed.  Both of the men’s longer legs made it difficult for Sakura to keep up—but experience had taught her long ago how to match her Master’s pace.  If she stopped half as often as they did, the bare seconds they paused to make another leap kept her even with them.  Of course it meant her push-offs from branches had to be twice as strong and controlled, something she had been working at for years.  The longer she ran, the more the muscles she’d toiled to build up screamed in rebellion, but one look at Kisame’s face, mouth set in a grim line of concentration, spurred her to push even harder against the next tree limb. I’m not going to look weak!

The kunoichi was so focused on maintaining her pace the force of her foot against the shattered the branch like a toothpick.  It hung onto the tree by one fresh strip, irreparably splintered.  Sakura bounded on without noticing it, but Itachi observed the destruction with interest.  Without any Chakra at all. Kisame and he had both used the same branch rather brutally, putting all their weight on the firm branch—but with just the pressure of her kick, Sakura had destroyed it.  It was a show of brute strength that intrigued him.

By nightfall, they’d crossed the border into River Country and approached the Akatsuki main base.  At first glance, the bouldered area appeared devoid of life, but when Kisame bore his Chakra and a complicated wave, a man slithered out of the darkness to greet them—slither was the optimum word, Sakura couldn’t help but think, because the ninja exuded a serpentine air that pressed sharply.  For a moment, when his hooded yellow eyes met hers, she could hardly breathe, hardly move…  And then the feeling was gone.  But, she trembled, it plagued her, and everything about the snake-like man ground and set her nerves on edge.

Kisame also seemed unsettled by the stranger—he grit his pointed teeth and offered a completely false sounding greeting.

“Konban wa Orochimaru-san.”  The respectful suffix was grudging, and the Mist ninja made no effort to disguise it.  If the black-haired stranger minded, his crooked, predatory smile did not show it.  He was not wearing a headband, and that fact alone irked her further—it was as if he wanted to make himself more mysterious.  Observing his comrade’s still apparent burns with a cursory slitted eye, the snake man’s smile slipped into a displeased scowl.

“The order was to retrieve Uchiha Itachi.  Just Uchiha Itachi.”  Sakura felt his heavy gaze again and forced herself to look disinterested.

"She wouldn’t leave.” Kisame justified with a sulky growl.  Orochimaru lowered himself to look at her eye to eye.  Sakura felt like a mouse, firmly pinned with terror that had no source.

“Cute.” A pink tongue darted serpent-like across the older ninja’s pale lips.  Shocked out of her paralysis by revolt, she took a quick, jerking step back.  Sakura caught her cringe and turned it into a firm glare.

“Why are you interested in Itachi-sama?” She snarled, not caring in the slightest how her loud voice might hurt his ears, close as they were.  Her pink bangs slid along her cheeks and her maintained her stare directly into the eyes of a murderer, directly into the heart of an organization she knew nothing about… He straightened, offering a smile that echoed a sneer.

“A curious canary invites the adder in.”  Her hand itched to pull a kunai on him, but loyalty to what both of them could gain stayed her hand. “Itachi-kun,” Orochimaru angled a condescending gaze onto the shorter Konoha ninja, “Keep your little pet quiet.  Her chirping is going to get her killed.”  At her sides Sakura’s fists clenched visciously. She wasn’t Uchiha Itachi’s whore or pet.  She was his student…  But those words did not seem right in her head.  She was his companion.

“A feminine man like you would probably know a lot about being someone’s pet, ne?”  A matter-of-fact smirk sparkled all the way through her emerald eyes.

“Hold your insults Sakura.” Itachi upbraided her, but she could tell from the lightened tone of his voice that she’d amused him.  It was exceedingly rare to hear, and a warm pride swept through her momentarily.  No one else had ever managed to amuse him the way she did.

He glanced at her sudden out of place smile from the corners of his dark eyes. She nodded to acknowledge his previous order, but she hardly needed to.  They both knew she would follow any command without question—what else could she do?  There was nowhere else for her to go now…  Even if this ‘Akatsuki’ organization’s aims were not conducive to their cause, he thought, they could hear why Missing ninja were gathering…  And of the very least, if this was not a trap, they could spend the night inside.  Clouds were rolling in, and the idea of sleeping another night in a wet and muddy forest was not appealing.  Sakura, he could see, was also thinking along the same lines, because she had looked away from all of them and was staring pointedly at the broad stone before them.

“Why don’t we move inside?” As if he had read their minds Orochimaru gestured with one pale head toward the seal marking the stone face.  With a precise flick and certain pooling of Chakra in his hand, the seal glowed briefly, illuminating for the first time the silver and red ring adorning his finger.  Sora… Itachi flied the kanji away for observation’s sake.  Suddenly, soundlessly the solid boulder before them split in two, opening a hole into the darkness.

The front hall was enormous and empty, ringed by jagged cave walls and pockets of shadow that seemed to shift the moment she tried to focus her eyes firmly on them.  Without doubt, most of the activity of this place went on below ground though she was certain the semi-regular shaped rock formation she had seen a few steps back was actually an ascending staircase.

“If you will be so compliant,” Orochimaru chuckled as if that statement was ironic, “I’ll escort you to our leader.”  The unspoken message was that there, and only there, would Akatsuki’s purpose be revealed.

"Eh!” Kisame, still sore from his injury at Sakura’s hands, growled, “Leave her out here!  She doesn’t need to know anything.”  Sakura bristled, and then remembering her promise, let it slide.

“Sakura—” Itachi began.

“Hai, I’ll wait.  I don’t wanna know what that shark’s got to say anyway.” But she did, very much, and they both knew it.  It wasn’t wisest to split up on potentially enemy territory, Itachi assessed, but they were unlikely to allow her, and unwanted visitor already, into their confidence.  She could defend herself well enough to escape if it came to a fight…  Feeling suddenly unsettled, strange in a way he had never experienced, he followed the cloaked men across the darkened cave, and through another sliding boulder doorway.  The rock slammed shut behind him with an echoing grate.

The pink haired kunoichi ran a reassuring hand over her own bare arm.  The cave was cold and damp, and goosebumps had risen all over her skin.  As the last echoes of her Master’s departure died out, a sharp pang of loneliness tugged physically at her stomach.  It had been years since he had purposely ordered her away from him, and now, for some vague promise of power, he had separated from her as if she meant nothing at all.  Maybe she didn’t…  Outside, a few sudden taps and then an immediate distant pounding heralded the start of the rain.  The beat it made against the heavy stone far above her was calming, and for a moment, she could almost forget he was not standing, silently, beside her.

Itachi matched Kisame’s and Orochimaru’s pace as they wound their way, soundlessly, down a sharp spiral staircase.  Torches blazed on the walls, but their light seemed to fail to illuminate the path.  The steps remained seeped in a bloody red darkness.  Neither Akatsuki member offered him a word, even when they reached an ornate wooden door.  The seal on this one shone with barely restrained destructive power, and Itachi knew that whatever was behind those doors, they did not want any outsider knowing.  

With redolent power he had not needed to open the upper doors, Orochimaru deactivated the seal.  As if by its own accord, the mahogany door swung open.  Oil lamps, too low to be of much use, glinted as they reflected each other’s pale lights.  In the hazy orange gloom, a thick table shone, polished, with a chair at either end.  At the head of the table, a man was already seated.  It was impossible to discern his features well, for his high collar covered much of his face, which he had rested on his knit knuckles.

“So you have come, Uchiha Itachi.”  His words sounded as if he was smiling, and immediately something about him irritated Itachi—the evident condescendence was backed by pure, unadulterated power, a raw strength that explained without any questions why he could command such a powerful group of ninja.

  
“We,” he used the term in a manner that suggested he was speaking not only about his organization but about himself, “Are a selective group of missing ninja.  Our only goals,” he straightened, and Itachi could see the amusement in his strange, light eyes. “Are to amass as much power for our own purposes as we can, and to survive.”  If the cloak had no ridden so high, Itachi was sure he would have seen a malicious grin on the man’s heavily shadowed face. “We want to test the limits of our capacity.”  The words rung sharply on his ears, echoing a bloodier night.  How could this man have known what he had said to Sasuke, and only to Sasuke?

“Actually, Uchiha Itachi, Akatsuki is almost a haven.” But somehow the way he used that word suggested everything but refuge.  “With so much ability under one name, no hunter force alone could hope to strike us.  A missing ninja’s paradise.”  There was a cold and forceful ring to everything he said, knowledge of exactly how dangerous he was shimmered in his shrewdly narrowed eyes.  

“In fact, you really can’t afford to refuse me, can you?  Konoha has spread a reward for your corpse to every country, even civilian territory.  It’s no longer safe to be you.  Undoubtedly, you’re having trouble finding any sort of decent work in a ninja village, and pardon me,” he did not sound as if he was being respectful in any manner, “But I doubt any Uchiha would fall low enough to steal or beg.”  Itachi grit his teeth invisibly, reining in the pocket of fury that pushed up inside him at this stranger’s disregard.

“And of course, if you were to choose to decline our offer, I have a feeling your encounters with ANBU would increase exponentially.”  So that was it, was it?  Blackmail—join now or we’ll leak your whereabouts to every hunter-nin we can find.  The sheer audacity and wit set his blood racing.  These were not your everyday felons.  This was not some band of fools.  “Joining… would be in your best interest.”  The mockery ran under his skin like shards of wood, but the power that rang in that voice…

To test the height of my capacity.  With smooth motion, the leader flicked one hand, almost carelessly.  Itachi had already pulled a shuriken to block this unexpected attack, but it was unnecessary—the Akatsuki leader’s weapon landed, with a sharp crack, in the table, inches from Itachi’s edge.  A dark kunai glittered where it had buried in the wood before him, and at its half hidden tip, a silver ring shone in the dancing oil fires.  Shu, crimson.  The irony was effortless.  Silence rang in the room, and he knew exactly what question was being asked, and what he should answer.

With a deft hand, he reached out and ripped the kunai free.  Slowly, purposefully, he closed his pale fingers over the cold silver band.

The grating echo of a stone door opening jerked Sakura from her pacing, and she spun swiftly on her heel.

“Itachi-sama!” She brightened quickly and crossed the room to reach him.  It had felt like an eternity…  Without even speaking, the distant and analytical look in his eyes told her immediately that he had accepted their offer.  He always looked that stormy after an important decision—as if he was weighing and predicting all possible outcomes or alternative choices.  The rain only pounded continuously on.

“It’s late Itachi-kun.  There’s a room for you upstairs.”  Orochimaru’s civility sent shivers down Sakura’s back.  Kisame leered suddenly in her direction as if something had just occurred to him.

“Only one room.  And one bed.  Not that your whore’ll mind.”  A blush rages across her cheeks like fire, half from rage and half from insinuation.  For one moment, she was determined to rip his throat out for his disrespect, but Orochimaru’s dry chuckle stopped her from leaping at the Mist ninja.

“Little girl, there will be a room for you downstairs.  Deidara will enjoy the company.”  Something about the snake’s dark grin was not reassuring.  She turned her green eyes from one man to the other, but her glare did not change.  ‘Little girl’ wasn’t much higher on her list than ‘whore’.  There were only four years between she and Itachi, and no one treated him like a little boy!  He didn’t treat her like a child; it hardly seemed right for anyone else to.

“My name is Sakura.” She could not help but mulishly state.  Ignoring her, Orochimaru pointed out a staircase to the lower floors (not the same one they had vanished down earlier, she noted) and then waved her away like a servant.  When Itachi’s steady black gaze told her to comply, she grudgingly began a slow wander across the cave.  Watching over her shoulder, she saw Kisame lead Itachi in the opposite direction.  Orochimaru disappeared on his own, presumably to return to guarding, but something about the transportation jutsu he used told her he had not gone just outside at all…

The hallway after the staircase was really too dark to be comfortable, and the entire place had a chill that even rainy nights in the woods had not had.

“Hello!” Startled, Sakura jerked, hands at the ready, searching for the source of the sudden voice.  “Up here, un!”  She glanced quickly upward and came almost nose to nose with a blonde-haired… girl?  “Who are you?” The blond asked from its suspended position on the ceiling, and her (or was it his?) voice sounded a little less friendly than it had a moment before.

“Haruno Sakura.”  She tried to bow politely, but couldn’t force herself to do it.  This stranger was undoubtedly applying Chakra to her (or was it his?) feet to be able to stand above her.

“I’m Deidara, un.” Why did the blond keep saying ‘un’? It was actually pretty annoying…  “Are you new?”  The upside-down angled blue eyes peered at her with undisguised curiosity and distrust.

“I came with Uchiha Itachi.”  She tried, and failed, to keep the pride out of her voice.  At the name, she was suddenly much more welcome—she could tell by the way the Stone ninja relaxed visibly showing that was no longer regarded a threat.  Had she (or he?) thought she was an intruder?  “That Orochimaru guy said there was a room down here that no one was staying in.”

“Well, yeah…”  The Akatsuki member dropped off the ceiling neatly and smiled at her—instead of being warm, there was a vicious edge to it that did not entirely calm her.  “It’s connected to my room, un.”  She pointed down the hall a way.  “Come with me!”  Sakura followed, relaxing slowly.  At least one of the Akatsuki members was decent…  The pair of doors were plain but strong wood, and Deidara stopped at the one closer to the stairs.

“This one’s got no one in it, un…”  But somehow the way that was said did not make the room sound empty at all.  With a flourish, the blond pushed the door and gestured her in with an open hand.  Sakura gasped immediately: not at the room, but at the extended hand. There was a mouth, complete with teeth, in the palm!

“Ummm, your hand…” Sakura blinked widely as Deidara flexed her fingers and the small mouth moved in response.

“Like it?  I use them for my techniques, un!”  The pink-haired ninja tried to smile in return, pretending she wasn’t severely disturbed.  “You can go inside you know.”  Sheepishly, Sakura turned and trotted into the room, only to stop short and gasp again—it was packed floor to ceiling with beautiful sculptures.  Wide-eyed, she picked a wary way through them all, stopping every few seconds to inspect something else.

“Is this Kisame?”  Sakura glared at the life-sized replica of her least favorite new acquaintance.  “You actually managed to make him look good!”  Deidara’s face fell like she (or was it he?) had been hit over the head with a blunt, heavy object.

“I was trying for ugly and something went wrong.”  Sakura couldn’t help but laugh, and the artist grinned. “So you like art, un?”

“Of course!” She nodded in answer, though she had had little chance to see much famous art. What kind of techniques does Deidara really use? Her curiosity was divided however, as her eyes searched the room.  There was no furniture at all, and there was definitely not a bed anywhere among the sculptures.  There wasn’t even room to squeeze in a tiny bed roll!  There was no way she’d be able to stay in this room… As if reading her mind, Deidara picked a way through the statues and opened a door to the adjoining room.

“My room, un.”  It looked far more livable.  Sparsely furnished with a mirrored bureau, a bed half swallowed in fluff pillows and a few odd tables, it had an organized air to it that didn’t suit what she had seen so far of Deidara’s dynamic personality.  A quick scan of the room proved there was no extra futon.

"I get the floor, right?” She asked, trying not to impose on the only person who’d been pleasant to her all night.

“We can share the bed, un!”  The blond grinned in a manner that was all together too innocent.

“Um, all right…”  There was a girl, after all, wasn’t it?  And the bed was big.  Sakura smiled cheerfully.  Deidara and she could become friends, couldn’t they?  She hadn’t had a girl friend for ages…  Stifling a yawn, she dropped her tired body onto the side of the bed nearest to the door, mindfully watching her scraped side.

“We should go to sleep now, tomorrow is a training day.”  That voice couldn’t have sounded any more displeased.  Sakura was in the process of climbing under the covers when Deidara, who had wandered into a big closet across the room came back out wearing a night shirt that was… decidedly not baggy.

“Uh, Deidara… You are a girl, aren’t you?”  She eyes the clingy shirt with growing horror, as without the cloak the blond looked considerably broader and flatter.

“A girl?  Of course not, un!”  He plopped onto the free side of the bed, and in the same motion, shut off the already dark room’s only lamp.  Like a terrified child, Sakura crept on her fingers and toes as far away as she could.  Itachi-sama! She screamed mentally, Save me!  Oh gods, this was not…  She twitched uncomfortably under the covers, eyes darting between the door and her sudden bedmate, who looked like he was already asleep.  How was she ever going to be able to close her eyes now?.!

She’d never slept in the same bed as a boy before, though she wasn’t sure Deidara really counted as a boy…  With Itachi, they had always slept on opposite sides of the fire, taking turns staying up as guard.  Even when they’d managed to get a room at an inn, there were always two futons.  Suddenly, endearing little snores rent the uncomfortable silence.  Oh joy, now she’d really never be able to get to sleep!  But she was so tired…  The fighting and running had really worn her out.  But she couldn’t go to sleep… She couldn’t… Sleep…

She dreamt of her father.  She dreamt of how she had always failed him—and the she dreamt of Itachi, and how she had never failed to match his expectations of her.  Why was it that with him she could do things she never thought possible?  Why was it that with him…  But more still, her dreams threw back one of the questions she had always been too afraid to ask him.  Why was Uchiha Itachi a missing ninja?  Why?  It had seemed important to know what he had done wrong.  He was her savior.  He was…  It had never seemed important to know, but now it was bothering her.  What could he have done to attract the attention of a felon organization, to merit all those ANBU following them?  Now that he had joined Akatsuki, were things going to change?  Were they not going to be together any more?  He dreams were fretful, but the unconscious Deidara didn’t seem to notice.  

His room, as Kisame announced it would be, was large but relatively lifeless.  A single bed, a dresser, and a tall cabinet in the corner, not much else.  As the shark-faced man turned around and headed down the hall, Itachi sat stiffly on the clean blankets.  The room felt… cold.  Logically that made no sense.  An insulated room was certainly more enclosed than a forest…  He pulled the thick comforter and climbed underneath, but even the warming blankets felt unwelcoming.  What was different?

He realized it immediately.  She was missing.  The last two years they had traveled half the world in almost constant contact.  Was it that he felt strange without her?  Was that the coldness of the room, not being able to measure the soft breaths he’d been listening to for years?  He tried to shut his eyes, but the place was simply too new, too unsure.  He did not trust these Akatsuki ninja in the slightest.  The night wore on, fretful for both of them.

Morning came slowly, yet quickly, and her heavy eyelids fluttered open to the harsh light of an electric bulb.  Day or night?  There were no windows to judge the time by.  Groggily, she pushed herself upright.  Thank god, she couldn’t help but think, Deidara sleeps like a statue himself.  He hadn’t moved an inch for all her tossing and turning.  His morals were also admirable—she wondered how many other teenagers like him would have managed to keep to themselves all night.  Blinking to clear her gaze, she realized her bedmate wasn’t still asleep—in fact, she couldn’t see him anywhere!

“Ohayou!” Deidara’s cheerful voice called out, and Sakura leapt so far in surprise that she fell right off the edge of the mattress she’d been hugging all night.  Peering up over the bedside, she found the girly-boy peering out of his closet, big black cloak half tugged on.  “You’re just in time, un!  Training starts in five minutes.”  

“Five minutes?.!” Sakura leapt up from her scattered position on the floor.  “But… ugh…”  She felt totally run down, her hair felt like a rat’s nest, and when was the last time she’d bathed?  “My clothes...”  A tear along the side where she’d let herself get injured by Kisame seemed far more apparent today than it had yesterday, and there were dirt spots all over her skirt and shorts.

“Wear these, un!”  Deidara tossed her some of his clothes, including a well worn dark cloak, splashed by red clouds, exactly like the one he’d finally managed to pull on.  “It’s the standard uniform.  I helped with the design, un!”  The artist boy seemed very proud of himself.  “Now hurry, my partner doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

Collecting the bundle of garments she was sure were going to be far too big, she stumbled into the adjoining ‘art’ room for enough privacy to change.  A sweeping look made her shiver, and though it was only a statue, she stepped out of the Kisame sculpture’s eye line.  Giggling at herself, she undressed swiftly, taking the barest moment to remove the bandages on her injury.  It had scabbed over nicely and would be gone in days.

The navy undershirt he’d given her was too large, but it was very comfortable.  The black pants were, shockingly enough, not all that baggy, and that thought made her cringe.  Maybe I should go on a diet?  Then again, Deidara was unnaturally delicate for a boy…  Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers through the shoulder-length pink strands that had become viciously tangled during the night.  With maybe a minute to spare, she hurried back to their room, snatched her forehead protector and tied it in place.

“You look normal now.”  Her new comrade offered, and then looked utterly confused when she sent him a glare.  Together they traversed the dark hallway, midnight cloaks swishing in time with their steps.

“Deidara, who do you train with?  Is there a set pattern?”

“There are only ten of us all together, counting Uchiha-san, and we all work in pairs.  Everyone has a pattern except Kisame, and you’re expected to train with your partner.”

“But if you always train with the same person, you’ll only be able to improve as long as they do.”  It was a problem she and Itachi had never had to worry about—with his Sharingan he had such a repertoire of skills there was always something different for her to learn.

“That’s part of the idea, un.  You need to know everything about your partner: strengths, weaknesses, secrets…  If you know where he fails, you can work on that yourself and—”

“Form an invincible team.”

“Un!”  Her intelligence of partnership obviously impressed him.  Taking care not to step on their hems, the pair ascended the dark spiral staircase to the bleak entrance hall.  She followed him across the cave-like room to another invisible door in the back wall.  His odd mouth and hand reached to deactivate the seal tag, but stopped as he turned to watch the second floor staircase on the other side of the hall.  

Sakura followed his gaze, and her emerald green eyes widened in surprise.  Itachi was coming down the stairs, swath in the same black cloak.  But it looked as if he was born to wear it—the crimson and black, the way it pooled around him…  It was…  She felt her cheeks growing red again, Damn it! and quickly turned her glance to the floor.  When she thought it abated enough not to embarrass him, she looked up again, only to spot Kisame following her companion.  If anything could have chased the blush away, it was him.

With a pleasant but quiet ‘Thank you’, she walked away from Deidara, resolutely taking her place by Itachi’s side.  The tension of the night slid off quickly, replaced by the comfort of familiarity.  She didn’t words to greet him—she could tell by just the tiniest lessening of his stiffness that he was also more comfortable with her there than with the strangers.  Deidara watched her go, a little sad to lose her company, but also very interested in meeting her companion, the Uchiha Itachi.  The rumors about him had been absolutely wild…  The dark-haired ninja accepted Sakura’s presence at his side without moving an inch, and together the pair, discounting Kisame, who looked put out, move purposefully back to where Deidara stood before the door.

“Nice to meet you, un.”  The stone-ninja smiled invitingly, and was a bit disappointed when all Itachi did was spare a short glance in his direction.

“Itachi-sama, this is Deidara-kun.  He’s my roommate.”  Somehow Sakura’s introduction seemed to have gained a lot more of Itachi’s attention than the artist’s own had.  Nothing happened!  She tried to send the thought to her already bristling teacher, but he seemed to have picked that exact moment to stop reading minds.

“He?” Itachi’s deep black eyes met Deidara’s light ones in a typical intimidating Uchiha glare.

“We’re late for training, un!”  Deidara shivered a little, and opened the sealed door with a sudden urgency.  Eyes like that were enough to make the Stone ninja want to protect Sakura from anything that could possibly harm her—if Itachi glared at him just for being her roommate, the poor artist certainly didn’t want to know what would happen if he let something bad happen to her…  “This is the training grounds, un.”

Sakura saw the pointed glare Itachi was burning into Deidara’s back, and pitying her bedmate, she tugged gently on her Konoha’s companion’s cloak, pulling his eyes from their new acquaintance.

“Itachi-sama, let’s train now, please?  I would like to finish yesterday’s battle with the shark idiot.”  From where he stood, a ways off from their strange group, Kisame definitely heard her—he began hurling insults like shuriken in her direction.

Emerald green eyes narrowed shortly, and Sakura could not help but think that for a missing ninja, Kisame seemed to have almost as big a mouth as Chakra supply.  There was no way she was going to let him land another blow on her.  The ragged scab on her side was a one time mistake.  Together, they passed through the doorway.  Her eyes adjusted slowly to the bright sunlight of the river country.  Strangers turned to stare with wary and curious eyes, and she knew just what they were thinking.  How could she possibly look serious, tripping on the hem of the too long cloak?  A shiver ran down her spine as Orochimaru leveled amused golden eyes in her direction.

“Oi, thick-head!  Shut your mouth before I fill it with kunai!”  She smirked over her shoulder at Kisame, who had not stopped his colorful commentary.  “Were your burns yesterday not enough of a lesson?”  A man with what appeared to be a Venus Flytrap growing around his face narrowed bright eyes in interest.  Could it possibly be true that this small girl had actually injured Kisame?  The Mist ninja snatched Samehada and stiffly marched into the middle of the field.

She would not be able to approach this battle like the last one—there were no trees to provide shelter here.  Best bet was close combat, to discourage him from using ninjutsu.  But she’d have to steer clear of that chakra-eating sword, or she’d be out of the fight in seconds.  A smile darted across her face quickly.  They all thought her an immature little girl didn’t they?  Why not play along…  Without a word or move, she began to gather Chakra in her feet.  She offered a girlish giggle and batted long eyelashes in her opponent’s direction.

“Aw, what’s the matter Kisame-baka?  Too stupid to know which end of the weapon to use?”  He growled in rage and swung the sword almost too fast for her to see—she had been prepared, and with a push that left craters in the earth, she flipped over his head in a smooth arc, smiling innocently as she tugged hard on his toss about blue hair.  Impressive, she snarled to herself, I didn’t think it was possible to use the word ‘whore’ so many times in one sentence.

It was not an easy matter for her maintain a continuous flow of Chakra to her legs as well as working quick fire ninjutsu between dodging.  She only had so much stamina… A childish wave and taunt hide her shaking hands and panting.  If she did not find a way to end it soon, their battle would stretch on—with Kisame as the victor.

A smirk darted across her lips as she inspected her opponent.  He was sporting several new burns, and his cloak was riddled with scorch holes.  His face and back bled from a few swallow cuts where she had thrown kunai instead of flames.  But she was not without injury either: he’d fooled her once with Kawarimi and she’d ended up with a kunai in between her shoulder blades.  It was a shallow stab, not enough to leave a scar, but it, and the still fresh scrape along her side throbbed painfully.  Could she end it that way?  She had just enough Chakra left…

With a determined glint in her eyes, Sakura leapt clear of Samehada and farther above him than she had before.  The breeze ripped at her pink locks.  Hand seals flashed impossibly quickly through her fingers.

“Ninpou, Uragiri no Gensou!”  She fell back toward the earth swiftly, just as Kisame felt something penetrate his body, and stumbled to a stop.  Sakura landed roughly before him and straightened.  The second he moved to continue their fight, a heavy mist roiled upward from the grass and hid everything from view.  Kisame could barely see Sakura, standing less than two meters from him.  What? He glared.  She could not possibly be hoping to hide from him in the mist, could she?  It was his element…  The shark ninja jerked in shock as bodies began to move through the fog.  They approached silently but ominously, until he could make out their features… The Akatsuki members!  He tensed in surprise, disliking the intent to kill obvious in their eyes.  Just what technique had she used?!

“Oi, what the hell are you all doing?”  Itachi raised a kunai without word.  Deidara, Orochimaru and the others slipped into offensive stances.

“Do you see my power?”  Sakura’s voice rang hateful and blood-thirsty through the fog.  “They’re all under my control, and they’ll betray you now, fool.”  Beside the snake ninja, Itachi smirked.

Kisame raised his sword, ready to defend himself against the betrayers—but Orochimaru’s voice drifted, dark and amused, to his ear.  The call was not coming from the kunai armed snake ninja nearest to him…

Standing off the field, Orochimaru had been watching their battle with intrigue.  As soon as the mist had risen, he had realized what Sakura had done.  She’d dropped a genjutsu on her opponent with the appearance of casting a mist cloud.

“Uragiri no Gensou… A genjutsu that manipulates the victim into believing they are being attacked by their most precious comrades.”  Uchiha Itachi’s disinterested voice struck a chord among the members, and Deidara whistled appreciatively.

“I could use that one, un.”  Itachi did not bother to tell him it took someone with a significant gift for genjutsu to manage it.  It had been a strange coincidence that Sakura was naturally good at Illusion Skill—and that her precise Chakra control made it possible for her manipulate fire jutsu when her natural element was earth.  She seemed almost to have been made to learn from him.

“Sakura-chan, you may stop now.  Kisame-kun has been very well trained.”  She did not miss the dry chuckle in Orochimaru’s voice.  The Akatsuki doubles puffed out of existence at her command, and the mist drifted swiftly into nothingness.  The smug expression was far slower to leave her face, and when she tripped again on the hem of her loaned cloak, not one of the Akatsuki members laughed.  She crossed the wide field as quickly as she could, determined to return to her master’s side.  Had she done well?  From him, she could not expect praise, but surely she had made him at least a bit proud…

As if she had no other place than next to him, Itachi watched her return.  That he did not mind her presence bothered him, but little could be done.  It felt almost safer to have her there—there was no other ninja he would rather have at his back in a battle.  The other members were eyeing her warily, gauging her as more of an equal.  He could almost read the unspoken question in their eyes.  Who is she?  Sakura bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning up at him expectantly.  She always wanted to be acknowledged… Typical to them both, he reached out two of his fingers and poked her in the forehead.

“Tighten your form.”  He murmured, and her grin grew brighter.  The others blinked in confusion, but she knew that was Itachi’s way of telling her she had done well.  With a hand, she rubbed the fading mark his hand had left, noting that she did indeed need to tighten up—letting Kisame hit her with the kunai had been utterly foolish, and her back ached, though the wound was slowly closing off.  She was almost tempted to stick her tongue out at Kisame, but was interrupted by Deidara, who came scurrying over with a grin as bright as her own in place.

“Sugoi Sakura-chan!  Did you see that look on Kisame’s face, un?”  She couldn’t help but laugh at Deidara’s imitation of abject terror.  “Come with me.  I want you to meet my partner, un!”  She blinked at him in confusion.  He really wanted her to interrupt their normal training?  For a moment, she was torn.  It was easy to like Deidara, and she really did want to know more about his technique.  But leaving Itachi was also unappealing.  She knew he still distrusted this place, and wasn’t he supposed to be her teacher?  She should stay and train with him… She looked up at Itachi, asking her opinion without needing to say a word.

The look he gave her was unexpected.  His eyes, which she had become so good at reading, were telling her to go.  They needed to establish ties with these people, learn their secrets, find out if they could be trusted…  It made sense, she reasoned.  Deidara was her roommate, and she needed to get along with him, if no one else here.

“Hai Itachi-sama.”  She acknowledged the unspoken command and turned.  Deidara had retreated a few steps from here imposing companion.  She hurried to reach him.  “I’ll come Deidara-kun.”  The girly blond boy nodded, his long hair dancing in the breeze, and they walked together.  She was determined—she was going to make friends with this deadly missing-nin if it was last thing she did!  

Itachi turned his dark eyes from her after she’d reached the artist Akatsuki member, and he turned back to Orochimaru, who was telling the Venus Flytrap man that he had somewhere to be and would not be able to train with them.

“Kisame-kun, are you up for testing your new partner?”  The serpent-like ninja gestured to Itachi.  Across the field, Kisame grinned viciously.

“I’m still full of Chakra.”  Itachi could have laughed.  If Sakura could dodge the shark’s attacks, there would be no way for him to land a blow on an Uchiha.  Somewhere across the training yard, and Itachi had to resist the urge to look in her direction.  Was that feminine boy really so entertaining?

The pink-haired ninja followed Deidara’s quick pace, and could not stifle a laugh as he described his partner.

“He’s such a grouch, un!  And he has absolutely no concept of art!  I don’t think he’d recognize good taste if it hurled shuriken at him, un.  He thinks he’s so knowledgeable…  He’s from the Sand village, and his sense of humor is as dry as a desert!”  Somehow, even though all he did was complain, Sakura got the impression that Deidara liked his partner quite a bit.  She loss interest in his chatter quickly, but the blond still held her interest—how did Deidara use those mouths in his hands for ninjutsu?  Itachi had taught her many techniques, but nothing like that.  And Deidara’s bright nature seemed very out of place in a gang of mass murderers…

She shook her head to clear the thought—ninja could not be judged on appearance or nature.  She was a good example of that: a cute young girl with a kind disposition, which hid a kunoichi capable of killing or torturing anyone in her way.  Perhaps Deidara was even more skilled at hiding his true nature than she or Itachi—could he hide bloodlust behind a smile?  Deidara grinned, an action that if she looked hard enough, seemed false and dark.

"This is my partner, Sasori-danna.”  Sakura’s wide emerald eyes blinked, and her eyelid twitched.  Danna?  Only wives use ‘Danna’ nowadays Deidara!  Sasori nodded a bandana-covered face in her direction, completely unphased by Deidara’s suffix. They couldn’t possibly be…  She hid the twitch and forced a smile onto her face.

“Deidara-kun, can I see your techniques?” She asked, keeping all the confusion out of her voice.

“Watch Sakura-chan, I’ll show you the power of art, un!”  The strange Akatsuki member pulled a chunk of clay out of his cloak sleeve and Sakura watched intently as he allowed the mouth in his left palm to devour it.  With a quick squeeze, the clay was coughed back out, this time in the form of a tiny clay bird.  A sculpture?  What’s that going to do?

The blond ninja raced through a series of hand seals, and in a sudden blaze of dust and Chakra, the little bird became a giant flapping beast.  Quickly, Deidara leapt onto its back, and with one sweep of its massive wings, the eagle took off, bearing its rider high into the sky.

“Wow!”  Sakura followed its impossibly fast flight as well as she could.

“He’s showing off.”  The strangely hunched man, Sasori, growled.  She noted that his voice sounded like a sandstorm, dry and sharp, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Look out, un!”  The mouths in Deidara’s hands dropped another two bundles of clay shaped like tiny, strange dolls.  The pair of clay figures came plummeting toward the ground, and Sasori growled again.

“Back up.”  Sakura complied with a quick leap, and the figurines smashed into the earth with an explosion the size of a bomb tag.

"Nice Deidara-kun!”  So that was his power: he could manipulate clay and infuse it with his Chakra, making the birds fly and the bombs explode.  That was pretty impressive, she had to admit.  But she would probably not be able to learn from him—that power looked like a Kekkai Genkai to her.  Shame, she couldn’t help but think, It would be really useful to make bombs like that…<