CHAPTER ONE


o.o0o.o

'Akatsuki'.

With dubious, wary eyes, I stared up at the neon red characters flashing in the muggy summer night. Was this really a haunt of the fae lord that could help me find Sasuke?

The night was still young ('10.15', a quick glance down at my watch informed me) and from the restless quiet in the air and the mere handful of loiterers at the front entrance, it seemed as though the nightclub was just opening for the evening.

Good. The fewer people (or... beings) in there, the better. I didn't particularly fancy going into a supernatural dive bar in full swing – not now, not ever – but under the current circumstances, it wasn't simply a matter of preference.

Still, I found myself hesitating at the entrance, absentmindedly smoothing down the sleeves of my pressed white shirt. Akatsuki was a watering hole for those with thirsts of an… unnatural kind, and even before I stepped foot inside, I could smell the stench of lust and desperation seeping through its walls, coating the dimly lit, glittering surfaces like the lingering ghosts of devoured souls and unwise bargains sealed in blood.

Gnawing on my lip, I fought against the sensible urge to spin right around, get back into the car and drive away as fast as I could.

Akatsuki was the last place I wanted to be.

But I was desperate.

As much as it pained me to admit, I needed help – supernatural help – and there was no one else to turn to. Sasuke's life could be at stake. 'Besides,' I told myself, trying my hardest to think positively. 'Morally questionable establishment aside, this Itachi has to have at least some redeeming qualities for Sasuke to have spoken so fondly of him.'

Yeah, that had to be it.

'…Or maybe, Sakura dear, you're about to make the worst decision in your life. The last decision in your life.'

Quickly, I shut off the more rational, self-preserving part of my brain before I could lose my nerve. Clutching the glimmering violet scale in my pocket like a lifeline, I took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.

o.o0o.o

Itachi was bored.

Completely, mind-numbingly bored.

Not that boredom was a particularly novel feeling for him. At his age, boredom had become a constant bedfellow, as predictable as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West. Nursing a glass of goblin whiskey in one hand, Itachi carelessly waved over the club's surly security to remove the avaricious peons grovelling at his feet. Barely moonrise and already there were supplicants prostrating themselves before him. If they weren't begging him to break the foolhardy contracts they had entered with the Unseelie court, they were begging to be given one. The constant, desperate attention was so… tiresome.

"Itachi."

Lazily, Itachi's eyes flicked up to his faithful assistant, who had strode up to his table, her new Valentino pumps clacking. The studs embedded in the blood-red leather glinted almost as forebodingly as the sharp fangs peeking beneath her painted, pouty upper lip. "…Yes, Ino?"

Propping an unnaturally pale, red-lacquered hand on one hip, she announced, "There's a situation. You might want to give it some attention."

"Doubtful."

"It's a human girl. She wants to speak to you."

Itachi raised a disinterested brow. "…That's hardly unusual."

"She mentioned Sasuke."

Itachi stilled. There were precious few individuals who knew of his ties to Sasuke he had personally made sure of that. And though Itachi had long since lost interest in the tedious affairs of the human world, he still tried to keep half an eye on his foolish half-brother's exploits. "…Sasuke?"

Ino smirked, tossing her blonde ponytail in an unspoken 'I told you so'. "…I'll tell her you're available for a chat," she drawled, before smugly slipping away.

With hooded eyes, Itachi leaned back in his seat to observe the young woman cautiously following Ino into the corner of the club where he sometimes held court. She was fine-boned and slender, with the most outlandish shock of strawberry pink hair – even for underworld standards. It was the ridiculous colour that brought back vague memories of two puckish children, a pink-haired little girl and blond-haired little boy, racing around a park with a much younger Sasuke, who'd been sullen and subdued even then. 'Oh, yes. His two little friends.' Itachi thought. 'How quickly humans grow.' With her freshly-scrubbed face and modest, drably professional attire, the girl-turned-woman looked as out-of-place as a selkie out of water, a beacon of goodwill amidst the hungry eyes, vicious laughter and eternal gloom of this cursed joint.

He regarded her with a hint of amusement as she came to a stop before him, a healthy distance away. Her hands were clenched by her sides – she was anxious, but not entirely fearful.

"Yes?" Itachi couldn't help but acknowledge her. Sasuke aside, his evening was proving to be much more diverting than expected, and astonishment came so rarely these days.

"Lord Itachi?" Her voice was sweet and pleasantly lilting, with the barest of a tremor belying her trepidation.

Itachi inclined his head, feeling another spike of bemusement at the pretty girl who gazed so hopefully at him with those enormous, earnest green eyes.

"I'm Sakura. Sakura Haruno. I need your help, sir. I don't know who else to go to."

Without taking his eyes off her face, Itachi raised one brow minutely, prompting her to continue. Sakura bit her lip, her gaze flitting nervously to the growing crowd, many of whom were staring with unabashed interest at the two almost comically contrasting figures in the corner. "May I…" she began in hesitant tones. "May I speak with you privately, Lord Itachi?"

Inwardly, Itachi sighed. However delicately or indelicately phrased, most females (human or otherwise) came to bargain with the Lord of the Unseelie. Beauty, youth, power, money... it was always the same old insipid requests. And to be spoken to 'privately'… it wasn't the first time he'd heard that proposition either. "Oh?" he asked, disappointed in spite of himself. So much for being different. "And why would I want to do that?"

But Sakura only lifted her head at the challenge, stubbornly standing her ground. "Because," she replied coolly, extracting the scale from the pocket and sliding it across the table. Even in the dim light, it glimmered too brightly to be anything but otherworldly. One corner was stained rust-brown, the leftover remnants of dried blood. "It concerns this."

o.o0o.o


A/N: So this plot-bunny grabbed me by the ankles and refused to let go. Much darker in tone than my other Itachi/Sakura tale, updates to 'Amaranthine' will be on the slow-burner, and will pick up once 'The Geis' is completed.