The Master of the Theatre

The Master of the Theatre

Act 1

Overture

A thought. A mere thought. It had come to his mind so quickly that it was barely even comprehensible until his eyes found what he had been seeking for years. A time. A place. A role. A love. A girl. Yes, this would work.

Above the lights, above nearly the whole auditorium was where he was. A shadow was what had been captivating himself in for all these years. They thought he disappeared, and in some cases it was entirely true, others, the upmost opposite. They thought that he was dead; oh how wrong were they to believe such a notion, he's never felt better. He's never been so motivated, so engrossed than when his amber eyes rested upon the thing he had begun to love so wondrously.

A love. A twisted and deranged love had passed through him. One of obsession and desire, and yet he didn't want to hurt the very thing he loved. He wanted to preserve it, but not like his puppets, no, something else entirely. He would love unfathomably, and forever. A love at first sight, no less. A night of time that had passed only moments before in his line of vision.

Uncannily beautiful, naturally lengthened pink locks that laid so perfectly straight and swayed mystically, is what he first saw. Then the emerald irises that were filled with a certain fire that could be uncovered so simplicity for any mere simpleton to find. The milkily white skin, unblemished by the ugly world. He could imagine that they were the softest thing too. A smile that lit up the world from it's darkened state of distress. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He would never hurt her, he knew. No matter how terrible some may be so convinced he was, he was no such thing; at least not to something so pure. To taint something bright and filled with light was a sin that was never to be even considered by anyone. No, if he was forced to, he wouldn't even touch her mere hand, unless of course it became allowed to him from her consent only.

He could see that she had noticed him, for she was suddenly startled; her eyes widened considerably. This pinkette's emeralds found his untraceable form from within the shadows, but from what he could see of her, she was unable to define anything specific. The companions he knew so well, asked her something, probably wondering just what had caught her eyes with a sudden fear. It was time for him to disappear from her vision, it seemed.

They had never found him that night, five years ago, when he had only been eighteen, and his friends only seventeen through twenty-one had witnessed his disappearance first hand, among many others. They don't know why he left, and how all his puppets remain, except for two that he kept secret from the world. He had only told one other person of them, and that person knew never to speak of them to anyone. The person would never betray him even if that person wanted him to return to the stage and into the other's lives. Thing was though, he had finally found a legitimate reason to return, however, only in time.

He knew that whomever had threatened him before into leaving would return to kill him this time around. This time though, he would be ready. He would teach the way of silence to the girl that had ensnared him so unrealistically. The only variable that was left unsaid and completely unknown was her actions and thoughts on all of this, and he knew that it would be the most important variable of them all, for she was the deciding factor in his next grand for him, he knew the ways of manipulation all too well to let something upsetting to occur yet again.

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Sakura Haruno stared up at the Dawning Theatre House in complete awe. It rivaled the Sydney Opera House in size and notoriety these days. Only the most amazing of acts, operas, actors, actresses, singers, and plays were even allowed entrance into the grand building.

From what she knew, the place had been constructed about seven years ago from a man named Yahiko Dawn, and his best friends, Konan Blue, and Nagato Ame. Apparently they were all in love with the idea of constructing the greatest theatre-house in the world, and they had done just that. They had brought the greatest performers and plays into the Theatre House, and had become infamous almost instantaneously. Now everyone wanted a piece of what it could bring for the performers that played there. And that, was exactly why she had come all the way to Konoha, Washington for.

She had worked alongside Itachi Uchiha a few years prior personally, and everyone knew that they did amazing work together. She also had come to befriend his little brother whom was also a famous musician with a godly smooth voice that made girls swoon to him wherever he went.

She on the other hand, could do it all. She was a widespread known pianist, violinist, singer, and actress. Those were the one's that people most knew of though, for she could do much more than simply that. However, the reason she had come here, was to play her violin, and show off her talent. She was the lead here, for the next two weeks. There was something else to, she wanted to become a full fledged member here.

The most common leads and music players of the Theatre House happened to be world known. They were known as the Akatsuki, the best all-arounds in show business for the past seven years. From what Sakura could recall, the famous Puppet Master, Sasori Akasuna had been apart of that outstanding group of individuals, but no one knows just where he went. People say he disappeared out of thin air, and that he was a deranged psychotic. She didn't believe any of it though.

"Miss Sakura, un!"

Sakura looked behind her to notice a man with long blonde hair, racing up to her frantically. He looked rather ruffled, as if it had been a long way to get here in such a short timeframe. Sakura could understand that well though, for the Theatre House was right beside the ocean, on the very edge of the downtown districts.

Sakura smiled at him warmly when he was in front of her. "You must be Mr. Iwa," She said, pulling a hand up toward him.

"Just Deidara, please, yeah," He replied sheepishly, while shaking her hand. Then he asked her, "Are you ready for the tour? It's kinda busy at the moment, everyone is getting ready for the performance this week, un."

She nodded happily. "I've been wanting to play here for years."

He grinned at her, while they walked inside the grand room. Everything was just how she could remember from pictures, but as her eyes laid themselves onto golden painted staircase that glinted amazingly from the countless light-sources. A large chandelier rose above the main floor, its glass crystals shining magnificently. Two hallways split the theatre in half, one carrying left, the other, right. She could only imagine the auditorium that awaited her, straight ahead and up that staircase.

As people scuffled around the ever-flowing groups of performers and artists, the duo weaved throughout the area, trying their hardest not to get separated. But try as they might, there was simply too many people, and soon enough Sakura found herself trapped within a group of ballerinas with bright orange costumes.

"Oh you simply must be joking," Sakura huffed under her breath. Before she knew it, she found herself in one of the entrance hallways with the many gossiping ballerinas. The carpets, colors, and wallpapers were as if she were in a castle of a fairytale, and Sakura found it quite lovely despite the hustle and bustle. Then, as her orbs laid upon an opened, vacant room, she found herself transfixed, unable to look away from a certain portrait.

She began to walk away from the group, and all that she could hear was this wispy sound, as it there was wind inside the theatre house. There was no muffled voices in her line of hearing, no, just that mere sound, as if it had wanted her to find it's source more than anything else.

The sound stopped as she neared the room, the only sounds around were the voices of impatient theatre-girls in the distance. She must have walked quite far for her to barely hear anyone. Was this a different section of the theatre or something? Why was no one around? Sakura found it almost discomforting.

Paintings scattered around the walls, telling of past performers that had walked these very halls only years or months before. The painting that had captured her was laid right in the dead center of the far end wall, as if that person had been very important to the theatre house and its sudden rise from anonymity to notoriety. She could imagine this person had helped considerably, since she herself knew exactly who he was. Sasori Akasuna. Why had this painting come to her liking? She had never really, in a word, cared for his performances, but that wasn't to say what he had done in his time on the stage wasn't jaw-dropping. She had to admit that what he could accomplish was indeed masterful, there was simply no way around that. No one could deny such obviousness, unless that person be an utter fool.

She studied the painting in front of her, curious. His face was turned slightly upward, the light catching his face perfectly. His scarlet red hair seemed to high-light partially because of the sudden light-source that shined upon it, but it was his eyes that really sent Sakura into wonder. Those amber irises. One was covered in light, making it seem as if it was a bit more dull and lifeless than the other, who was basking in the shade of his locks, creating more depth and darkness. It was a dark beauty, Sakura knew, one that has had a taste of just what a void of black feels like.

"Some say that he still lives."

Sakura took in a breath, before she turned on her heel fast enough to give herself a headache. Her heart raced wildly for being so startled. She stared wide eyed at the man that was now before her, his dark obsidian eyes, and long black hair gave her enough comfort to breath a large sigh of relief. Her eyes close for a minute, letting her heart rest, before she set her gaze at him with a warm smile.

"Hello Itachi," Sakura greeted, putting a lock of pink behind her ear. "Long time no see."

He smiled. Sakura took in the black swallowtail tux and trousers, rather surprised at the getup. She was rather used to him being dressed up whenever they met up before a performance or something akin to that, but this certain outfit was as if he was from another time period, long ago. Sakura found herself rather wistful after that thought.

Then he replied, "As to you, Sakura."

He walked up beside her, his hands behind his back. His natural grace was always a treat that she adored, and wished she herself had. It was so perfected too. Itachi always did have that certain mysteriousness air about him as well, for even his footsteps were incoherent to her ears.

Sakura watched as his eyes trailed to the painting ahead of them. The normality of his features returned to their impassiveness, practically blank, seemingly uncaring, unless someone knew him personally like she did. The expression was not blank nor uncaring, simply calculating, yet at the same time rather warm compared to others of his nature. From what she had heard, Sasori had that feature, but was more cold in comparison to Itachi.

"Some still believe that Sasori is the ghost of the theatre. The Master of the theatre," Itachi explained. There was a certain distain as he spoke, that she didn't understand. Had he been Sasori's friend in the past, or did he only find the rumors to be idiotic like she did? Sakura didn't know.

Sakura quirked a brow at the thought of a ghost in the theatre-house, her previous thoughts dismissed completely. "Ghost?" She repeated. "Thats kinda strange to think of, is it not?"

His eyes met hers. There was something there for a second. A flicker of the past, before it was gone. He shrugged uncaringly then, before the flicker was gone, lost in his eyes to a memory that he obviously didn't want to remember again. "More publicity, I suppose."

Sakura faked a smile. This was obviously not a topic that he wanted to continue, but then again, he had been the one to start it in the first place. So, why had he done it? She looked back at the painting of Sasori on the stage, his stage being the place of his one and only graceland. She could understand that completely.

"Would you like to go onto the stage now?" Itachi asked, breaking her thoughts as her eyes went up to meet his once again. This time she not only smiled, but it grew into a wide grin.

Then she conceded happily, "I've been waiting for this moment for seven years."

"Well, then," He said, showing her an arm for him to escort her. "Let's not keep you waiting."

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"Have you seen her? Sakura Haruno I mean! I lost her on the way here! Oh, un! What am I going to do? This theatre is huge, yeah!"

Sakura watched with undeniable amusement as Deidara ranted worried to whom she knew as Hidan Focker, who was trying to block his ears with his fingertips, clearly getting more and more annoyed as time passed.

"SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP!" Hidan bellowed at the blonde, who cringed at the sudden deafening bellow that was aimed right at him. Hidan growled at Deidara loathingly, his face contorted into a terrible scowl.

Everyone stopped and stared at the duo, and even Itachi lowered his eyes slightly in disdain. The quiet that enraptured around the area was terrible, and Sakura watched as Deidara looked around worriedly, and Hidan irritatedly. Then Hidan threw up his arms, before storming off the stage. People watched as he disappeared around a corner before everything began to set into motion again. The silence was broken, and the movement of the area was in full force. Sakura figured that outbursts from Hidan must be pretty often.

Then in Deidara's complete worrisome mess, his lone blue eye set on her form and Itachi. She could plainly see the pure relief, even his shoulders sagged at the sudden release of tension.

He quickly walked over to them in the middle of the stage. He looked down to Sakura, his brows knitted together slightly. "I'm so glad you found Itachi on your way up here, un. I'm sorry about before though, yeah."

Sakura waved at him dismissively, before she smiled at him. "It's alright Deidara. Although I'm probably going to need a map to find my way around this place."

Deidara grinned down at her, before he bowed like a gentlemen of a storybook. "It shall be done with post haste, my lady."

Sakura giggled at his antics, before she removed her arm from Itachi. She curtsied low, before a flash went by her vision, and her head snapped up. Confusion set in, before her gaze was met with a certain shadow on the top of the rounded ceiling. Horror swept throughout her, and she knew that it was clearly visible on her face.

"Are you alright?" It was Itachi. She looked at him, but couldn't see him. Her head looked up at the shadow that she had seen, but it was gone, nothing but a railing and a beauteous shadowed painting. What was that?

"Hey, un?" Deidara. She looked from one to the other, who were both at her sides. She could see them now. Clearly.

What she had seen was probably just a fantasy that had scared her for no reason. She breathed a deep breath, giving her the time necessary to regain her bearings. "I'm fine," Sakura admitted, giving them both a rueful smile.

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From then on, they showed her around, giving her the grand tour. It wasn't until that the theatre was at the closing time that she was given her own personal dressing-room until her stay was complete. It was relatively bare to what she had expected, but she supposed that there was no reason to make the room lively until she actually became a member, that is, if she was good enough to make the cut. And goodness, she wanted to make it.

She could just imagine the time when there would be flowers all around from after her grand performance, on that world renowned stage, playing the part of some famous character. Maybe she'll be Juliet or Helen of Troy one day. Oh the thought of it was just wonderful in her mind. Sakura sat back in her chair that stood before her vanity, looking at her face. She would renovate this room tomorrow with some of her belongings before she practiced.

As she looked at the mirror more in depth, she saw something on the wall behind her that made her eyes widened, and she to turned swiftly around in her chair. It was the only thing it that room that Sakura found that had much of any color, and she was shocked with the sense of irony it gave her.

The Phantom of the Opera. Sakura wanted to scoff at the poster of that infamous white mask and the words of the title written in a magical yet morbid manner. It was as if she was meant to be freaked out by this, and at the strangeness of her situation. It was as if someone had done this on purpose. It honestly couldn't be a mere coincidence to have that poster on her wall with the idiotic rumors of Sasori Akasuna being a ghost to the theatre-house.

Quickly she removed herself from the chair, and strode over to the poster. She studied it for a moment with crossed arms, and scowled at the dark beauty of the photo. It was like the picture of Sasori, where one eye was set into the darkness. It was a dark beauty, and Sakura simply couldn't help but connect the two in the same category, but that wasn't to say that the rumors were true. Besides, as Sakura knew, she could never be Christine, she wasn't like her, Sakura was stronger.

"Master of the Theatre, huh?" Sakura mumbled annoyedly.

But as Sakura ripped the poster from the wall, she couldn't help but feel that this was what was suppose to happen. As if someone wanted her to pull the poster from the wall.

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"Do you think it's possible, un?" Deidara asked desperately.

Itachi's gaze swept throughout the empty auditorium, the only people left were Deidara and himself, as he might assume, however he couldn't exactly say for sure. Not anymore, not after five years of thinking that one of his true allies was gone, and until that day when Sakura had seen something to scare her so unfathomably.

"If it's actually Sasori that she saw, he's obviously still here," Itachi responded. "He wouldn't leave."

"But what happened that day?" Deidara pondered with furrowed brows. "What would have caused him to leave just like that, yeah?"

Itachi's eyes narrowed at the railings above the theatre, and to the painting at the top of the grand area. "Something that even Sasori wouldn't want to happen."

Deidara looked over the dimly lit auditorium, the whole room stricken with the quiet nature of the dark hour that it was. That was how Sasori liked it. If he had indeed stayed, why suddenly show himself, even so discretely to Sakura of all people?

"Somethings changed," Itachi admitted. There had to be something either awry or entirely right if Sasori would even show himself to the pinkette of all people.

"If Sasori would even show himself, that means that something is going to happen, something big, un."

Itachi nodded curtly. He had a feeling that it would be just about as morbid as Sasori's favorite opera, The Phantom of the Opera, and that Sakura would have a big role in that grand performance if what Deidara and him were insinuating was indeed true. He could only hope that the ending of this performance wouldn't have such a horrific ending as the original had.

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The Master of the Theatre

Author's Note

Updated: October 27, 2013 (Sunday)

Hey guys! Long time since I had anything up it would seem...Sorry about that. Really, I am. The problem would be that last month, I had torn my ACL and I have been doing physical therapy for a long time. I also had my surgery nearly two weeks ago. So anyways, I'm so sorry about that.

Yes, this is a modern SasoSaku Phantom of the Opera retelling. It's pretty obvious at this point. I have much in store for this fic, so hold onto your seats. I won't update this for about a week or more, so until then!

Please review, they're like a basket of goodies for me! ja-ne!

-Cassandra