A/N: So this is the redone first chapter. I wasn't happy with the first one, and made a totally new one. The biggest change to the story will be that it is now first person rather than third. I feel that it would be better to hear it from Orochimaru rather than from me. If I slip back into third in places, I'm sorry, but I haven't written first in forever. Please feel free to slap me. Other than that, I hope to do this pairing justice as it really needs more love T_T. Enjoy, and please talk to me. I love getting reviews from you guys, especially since Itachi is totally new to me. I'm excited to get through this, just the first part will be really hard for me, when Itachi is all "Grr! Lookit me! I'm scary!" and antisocial...but anyway, here it is, the new first chapter.

I'll never forget the first time I saw him. Maybe the circumstances, the way things were set up, might have influenced my first take on him, amplifying sensations that should have been easy to quell. We had been called together, a rarity that we were all in the same room, for the sake of meeting a new inductee into our rag-tag group of peace warriors or whatever the hell it was Leader-sama had seemed to want to call us. I never understood the man's reasoning for using potent missing nin as tools for peace, but that was his concern, not mine. Akatsuki had, since my arrival, been a safe haven as well as a place for me to observe new and powerful skills and abilities. I sat in on most training sessions, all that I could, and took rigorous notes on just what I saw, trying to be as subtle as possible. Get too uppity, and people start asking questions.

But, back to the point I was trying to make, the lot of us had been called together into the main room that acted as a sort of living room, a lounge for us to meet and mingle...not that there was ever much of that. We all stood in a makeshift line, partners beside partner, as per usual. There wasn't much conscious thought that went into standing like that. People were just more comfortable around their partners, the ones that they were forced to be around and encouraged to get along with.

Kakuzu was alone, in between partners as he often. He was next in line to receive a new one, but this one in particular that we were getting was for Kisame, who was oddly absent. Kakuzu looked disgruntled as ever. The man couldn't be bothered with anything that wasn't directly related to profit or otherwise him getting to relax. Once his job was done, by the gods, it was done, and anything else you could ask of him was simply too much. He would huff and sigh and grumble and swear the whole way if you even got him to comply with your wishes. Even Leader-sama struggled to get the man to listen to orders, and he was never pleasant about it. I could hardly believe he would be so cranky. It didn't matter how young his parts were, he still acted like a ninety-something. Didn't anyone ever tell him he didn't have to act his age anymore?

I was, of course, standing beside Sasori, who looked about as miffed as Kakuzu. His arms were crossed, hands tucked tightly into his underarms. The look of annoyance was subtle, but not hidden at all. Sasori was always good for giving you face value. What you saw was what you got with him, and he was far from happy about this. Some parts that he had ordered along with new tools to replace a few that had worn had arrived that day. He planned on spending the hours working on a new puppet he had been excited for. Forcing him to leave his private workshop for some formalities and how-do-you-do's was not something he had anticipated, and the whole way to the living room, he had done nothing but piss and moan over the time he was wasting.

Konan stood close by Leader-sama's side. Her head was slightly lowered and she was silent as she always was whenever we were formally gathered for something. I had always found this behavior curious, and had assumed it was a form of submission to Leader-sama. It was something respectful of a woman in the presence of one whom she revered as God. Oh, the things people will put their faith in when they need hope in their lives. It's almost tragic how the faithful will ignore logic to cling to their dreams of the future, but I digress.

Leader-sama was standing inside the door frame, his face set in the same stern expression we had all come to know. "I've brought you all here-"

"We know! Just bring him in and trot him around so I can get back to work," Sasori interrupted.

There was a moment of silence broken only by a slow, heavy sigh from Leader-sama. It was the sigh of a babysitter that didn't get paid enough. Without saying anything more on the matter, lending a glare to Sasori, he continued. "I've brought you all here to meet our newest member. Say hello, introduce yourselves, and at least try to be respectful..."

With that, he stepped inside, moving to stand close by Konan, their proximity momentarily making me speculate on whether or not she was participating in any other 'acts of submission' with him him for probably the thousandth time since my joining. But these thoughts were, indeed, only momentary. As soon as he stepped into the doorway, my thoughts ceased.

He was fresh from the streets, a brand new missing nin, made apparent by his ANBU uniform that he still sported. He was fresh in more ways than that, his face still young and rounded, sporting an envious level of collagen. His body was that of one who had just passed the threshold into manhood, though his eyes spoke of one who had long since held an adult understanding of the world. They lacked the optimistic luster of most his age.

It was hard to place at the time, and for quite some time after that, just what had captivated me about him. He was a pretty thing with a worldly face. He wasn't some unattainable-looking angel in mortal form, but he was still quite striking. Yet, I had seen many that I would call more beautiful. Thinking back on it, I would assume it was how things were set up during this meeting. We were lined up, waiting for he big reveal. He stepped in to be paraded around. It reminded me of an auction house, people standing around waiting for the item on display to be sold to the highest bidder. There was a certain level of unwillingness on his face, of him not wanting to be the center of attention, that I also think played some kind of part in stirring my desires.

He was bristling, not that I blame him for it. His stance was tense, shoulders drawn back to make him look larger than he was, and not doing a very good job. His face was set in a glare, seeming to challenge anyone who would try to come after him. All of us were standing before him, each one displaying their own message via body language. Kakuzu displayed disinterest of a severe kind, hardly regarding the encounter at all, and trying to look imposing. He was obviously trying to make it clear he wasn't going to be there to be a buddy to him. Sasori was displaying a mild amount of interest, only enough to soften the still dominating look of annoyance on his face.

And then there was me. At seeing him, the new member in the lion's den, my eyes involuntarily went wide. The smile on my face went unhidden save for the obscuring that the high collar of my coat managed. There was no effort on my part to cover up my excitement at this new member, this pretty face, this look of timidity in the face of the unknown, this puffing up that he was doing to try and hold his own against the force that we were. It was endear...absolutely precious. I was so stricken with a sudden uprising of desire, of possibilities, that I scarcely heard Leader-sama introducing the boy. Itachi Uchiha.

So he was Itachi, the cause of the Uchiha massacre. Word of it had traveled through one of mine and the organizations many grapevines. There were rumors, many rumors, but the only thing that was for certain was the death toll. Only two Uchiha were confirmed alive. This was apparently one of them. But I was hardly concerned with that. I didn't care what he was or where he came from, why he was with Akatsuki...all I knew was that he was a fresh, impressionable piece of meat that had been put on a hook in front of me. I knew that if nothing else, I would try to steal glances of him, something to incorporate into my personal repertoire of masturbatory aids to call upon when I decide to let my mind wander to more devious places. If I was lucky, there were strong hopes of me catching him in the bath house as well. That would be a treat.

When it was apparent that there would be no immediate bonding between us and the new member, we were dismissed. Apparently, Itachi was going to be sent to meet his partner separately. I wondered just how he would take to Kisame. He was certainly one of the easiest to get along with, being very laid back and possessing a sense of humor, something that was a rare sight in Akatsuki. The only problem was that he could be a ham. He liked to puff up and intimidate people at first, to make a point of his dominance. And his outgoing personality might be off putting for someone who seemed as reserved as Itachi had been.

I decided to follow Sasori back to his workshop. It was too far into the evening to really motivate myself to do anything productive, but it was far from late enough to go to bed. Sasori was really the only company I enjoyed around the base. Everyone else was either too far below my level to be of any entertainment value or too rude to get a conversation out of. I suppose Leader-sama could have worked, but he was almost always unavailable to speak with on a casual level, and liked to sprinkle far too much of his faith into conversations for my taste. Sasori was down to earth and held a few similar opinions to myself that made him for someone agreeable to talk to.

I leaned on a wall near the table he was working at. Luckily, this puppet was at the assembly stage, so the large saw that he often had going didn't need to be running. During that time, it was impossible to communicate with him and too unbearably loud to even want to. I watched with mild interest as he put together the wrist joint, one that was always rather complicated with the augmentations he liked to add to them.

We were silent for a time as I tried to fish for something to talk about until he suddenly spoke up, catching me slightly off guard. "You seemed really interested in the new member, Itachi."

The question had thrown me a bit. Though I was used to Sasori loving to talk about the other members (he was something of a terrible gossip once you got him started,) I wasn't expecting him to take note enough of my response to Itachi to warrant conversation. In fact, these sorts of things often went over the puppeteer's head, his social skills having slipped since he developed his apathetic nature to the degree it now was. "I suppose you could call it interest."

"I've never seen you freeze up and stair that way at someone before. What was that about?" His tone was unreadable. There was no trace of positive or negative in it, just a question seeking an answer.

"I just wasn't expecting someone as striking as him. Akatsuki doesn't tend to be an attractive lot." And for all I could figure at the time, that might as well have been the truth.

"Striking? That's not the usual kind of wording you would use...what makes him so special?"

"Don't you think he's beautiful?"

"I suppose, but nothing to write home about...those bags under his eyes..."

"I think they add character. It's a simple flaw that makes him more...grounded."

"Call me an idealist, but I can't say I agree..."

The rest of the conversation deviated from the topic before I was pressed for more reasoning that I didn't have at the time over my interest in the man. I was able to redirect it to a conversation about artistic movements and why some were better than others. It was a topic Sasori easily jumped to, and one that continued for hours. Sometimes we agreed, and sometimes we didn't. It was a good conversation, an engaging waste of time before I felt sleepiness setting in and returned to our bedroom while he stayed awake through the night, working on the puppet in his shop.

My thoughts deviated to the new member before going to sleep. I resolved myself to at least speak with him. If he was someone I could befriend, then that was another person to talk to. If not, I could always fall back to just observing him.