Eye of the storm
Chapter one
The captain heard a knock on his door.
"Enter" he commanded.
The door opened to reveal the form of Mario, his chef, dragging a disheveled and grimy woman behind him. The woman was pushed roughly in front of him. Her face was sheathed from him by the curtain of pink hair she possessed.
"I found her hiding in the store." Mario said, his gruff voice did little to mask his disdain.
Itachi Uchiha, as a captain of a ship that has traversed many lands, was immune to surprises. He was, however exempt from the immunity, for a mere moment as he surveyed the pink-haired woman-child before him. Her once-white shirt was swathed in colourful and what was certain to be absolutely unhygienic stains. She was determinedly gazing at a spot on the floor. She projected an aura of defeat and hopelessness.
Itachi nodded at Mario. "You may leave" he said. Mario complied. For a long while Itachi merely observed the girl. She did nothing but stare at the flooring as if it were the harbinger of her current state of misfortune. She looked gaunt, he noticed detachedly. She stood, apathetic to everything around her.
"Where are you from and how did you manage to board my ship?" he queried.
Her unresponsive manner and inexpressive countenance did nothing to quell his growing aggravation.
"Answer me" he commanded in a tone that would have had his crew, had they heard, quaking in fear and offering fervent entreaties to whichever god happened to be listening for a quick and painless death.
She did not even flinch; her eyes remained glued to the floor. The only change he perceived in her was the fact that she was bracing herself for something. It was like she was bracing herself for a form of physical reprimand. Itachi was taken aback. He was not the sort of person who would resort to violence for eliciting a response from someone. Vivid viridian met alabaster. She looked surprised. The gaze lasted for a mere millisecond before she resumed her memorization of the flooring patterns.
Sakura braced herself, more from the force of habit than that of threat. She was used to being beaten up- for not responding, for saying the wrong thing, for not doing something right, or even just for the heck of it. When the expected abuse did not appear, she risked a peek at the man standing before her. His sable gaze was contemplative. She withdrew her gaze immediately, res
She chose this ship for a reason. She knew they would not look for her in a ship owned by the Uchiha. The Uchihas' were perfectionists. Mistakes were rarely tolerated and second chances were rare, if at all they existed. This tendency of theirs was embodied and exponentially expressed by its heir — Itachi Uchiha. They tended to quadruple check when others would merely spare a was why she had chosen to board a ship owned by the Uchihas. That was why she was willing to be subjected to any torture they reserved for her. She had chosen to defy fate, her accursed fate, by escaping into his ship.
He was quiet for a long while. She knew from experience that the longer a person remained silent, the more excruciating the pain would be. She decided to risk another glance at him. His fingers were steepled and his chin rested atop it. He rose and walked to her. He offered his hand to her, wordlessly. She was too entranced by his obsidian gaze to notice that she had taken it. By the time her actions registered, he had whisked her from the office and made his way through the maze-like corridors and stood before a door. The door opened to reveal a plush, well furnished room. There was a window framing the wall against which a desk was placed. The entire room was centered around a down-filled, plain white bed that was soldered to the floor of the room. Normally Sakura would be delighted to observe the perfection and careful attention paid to the design of the room.
But right now she was experiencing a full-on panic attack. She had thought they would be content in beating her up, in tormenting her, and prepared to endure something along those lines. She had ensured that she looked absolutely vile in every possible way to make sure that what she thought was about to happen never happened. From what she had gathered of his character, he was not the kind to indulge in such… things. To think that she had been naive enough to think that this would not happen. She had blatantly disregarded this in her contingency plans, hoping against hope that she would be able to evade such an untoward incident. She cursed herself mentally. She took stock of the man currently busying himself with his cupboard, would she be able to over power him? He was a head and a half taller. Judging by the way his uniform fit, she was certain he was physically fit. She surveyed the room again, hoping to detect something that would give her some leverage. Before she finished her assessment she felt something soft hit her. She held up the object intending to use it to slug him, before realizing that it was a simple black shirt and a pair of pants.
"The shower is through that door. When you are finished report to my office. Ask a crew member to escort you there if you find yourself failing to remember the direction" he directed, before leaving the room and leaving her to her own devices.
Needless to say this was not something she had expected. She decided to take full advantage of his hospitality. She locked the door behind her and entered the bathroom. As was with all Uchiha establishments, this too was expansive and decorated. She discovered that the shower had hot water; it took all of her self control- cultivated over a span of seventeen years- to not break into a celebratory dance and holler praises to all the deities for this surprising and not unpleasant turn of events. For the moment she decides to simply clean up and hold the dancing for when was not stuck in the middle of an ocean. She turned to the cupboard, taking note of the neatly organized way everything was arranged. The first shelf held medicines-tablets, bandages, cotton and so on. The second shelf contained a collection of shower gels and shampoo's.
She helped herself to a little of everything. When she deemed herself clean, she re-entered the room. She took her time toweling her hair dry. It seemed as if the Captain was infected with a severe case of compulsive-obsessive disorder. Everything in the room was ruthlessly organized. Not a single stray sheet of paper cluttered his desk or a carelessly discarded article lounged anywhere in his room. Come to think of it, not a single picture adorned his desk. The Uchiha family was rather extensive. Their genealogy spanned many centuries. She folded up the towel she was using before placing it on the desk. She decided to not worry herself over his issues and walked out.
When she walked out of the room the first person she saw was a boy with unremarkable brown hair and distinctive scars embellishing his cheeks. The scars looked exotic, like tribal markings on a decorated warrior of a clan. She walked up to him and fixed her most winning smile on her face asked him if he would assist her in reaching the captain's office. The boy's answering smile was brilliant as he agreed. He introduced himself as Kiba. For the duration of their walk she was assaulted with talk about the workings of the ship, the people and the quirks of the place. He was talking a minute a mile, forgetting that she was unfamiliar with almost every aspect pertaining to ships and that included terminology. She smiled and bore it as well as she could before turning to the door, albeit slightly relived. He bid her adieu before walking away. She took a deep calming breath before turning her attention to the door.
He was seated on his desk, perusing a file. He paid no attention to her except nodding at the seat before his desk. She seated herself on the chair, waiting for him to speak. His gaze did not waiver from the file before him. Presently a knock was heard. Itachi bade the man to enter. The man who Itachi addressed as Mario, entered bearing a tray laden with a steaming and undoubtedly delicious fare. She tried, in vain, not to stare longingly at the food, now placed before Itachi. She had lost count of the number of days it had been since she had eaten a solid meal.
Mario fixed Itachi with a quizzical glance. Itachi's intent perusal of the paper at hand rendered him unable to feel the weight of Mario's gaze. Only when Mario had excused himself the room, did Itachi stir. He closed the file at hand and pushed the tray towards her. Sakura was rather uneasy by now. Why was he treating her like this, not that she disapproved; but still, it was rather….unsettling. She had grown up listening to horror stories of what the Uchiha did when things did not go the way they wanted it to. Perhaps he intended to poison her and toss her then corpse overboard.
"After you," she said, pushing the tray toward him. It was irrational. The intel she possessed on them was far too precious for her to take a chance with anything.
A brow quirked fractionally at her before he deigned to pick up a stick of dango from the plate and proceeded to slowly work his way through the stick. She followed suit. They finished the meal in silence.
"What is your name?" he asked her.
"Sakura Haruno." She said, though a little hesitantly.
"Do you bear a grudge towards the Uchiha clan or to any of my crew members?" he queried.
"I do not" she replied. She appreciated the fact that he had decided to rephrase his previous question.
"What do you find yourself adept at?" was the next question shot at her. The look of surprise was her only response.
"Pardon?" was the reply.
"I assume that you are going to stay aboard the ship until we dock at the next port. I am certain you are incapable of paying the fare. It is only logical that you work for your passage." He intoned stoically.
Sakura was taken aback at the ease with which the Uchiha accepted her presence. She said "I can help with the cleaning and perhaps the cutting and peeling of food. I'm not very good at the other aspects of cooking."
"I will inform Mario of this development. I have asked him to set up one of the cabins for your use. Do not get too comfortable. You will be asked to leave the next time we dock at a port" said he, before he rose and moved towards the door. At a loss as to how to react, Sakura followed him. They walked in silence through the maze of corridors before he gestured towards a door. He then parted with a quiet good night.
Sakura stepped inside to find that the room was simply furnished. A small bed adorned the opposite wall of the room. The window atop the foot of the bed allowed the moonlight to filter through the glass. Besides the small table that flanked the cupboard, the room was bare.
The sleeplessness she experienced over the past week and the comfort of the surprisingly soft bed helped lull her into a dreamless sleep
A|N let me know what you think of it with a review. I was planning to have the next chapter up when my reviews for the story reach 10...