Pairing: ItaSaku
Summary: After years of loss and distrust, Itachi finds it hard to move on. Yet, a little persistence and irksome events never hurt anyone. ALTERNATE UNIVERSE
Rating: T for language and mild suggestive themes
Warnings: OOCness and Alternate Universe
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters, nor do I own the song 'Light My Candle' from the musical, RENT.
AN: Something I thought of one day… It is not my best work, admittedly, but I needed a break from the things I usually write to get an idea in words. A few grammatical mistakes are common, and I think this is a little rushed. And most of it is all dialogue; I feel badly for making this so long. But, here it is. I hope you enjoy it.
Light My Candle
From the Musical: RENT
The phone had to have rung for the twentieth time today.
Itachi waited patiently, allowing the rings to sound, reverberating through his small apartment several times before a loud 'beep' sounded. "Speak!" two voices sounded over the answering machine, and impassive black eyes rested expectantly on the machine.
"Hey, Itachi! It's Naruto! Yeah, remember me? Your best friend?" the usually jubilant voice, now thick with agitation began.
The Uchiha made a face; he had just spoken to the blonde yesterday. Regardless, he waited, his feet propped up on a table before a worn couch. A guitar was resting in his lap, the handle resting against his shoulder; he resisted the urge to play while the blonde was talking—it was probably meaningless, as usual.
"Merry almost Christmas," he continued drawlingly, as if he had forgotten what he was going to say. The tone was back to normal; a pleased, excitable one. "Oh, yes! All of us," Itachi learned 'all of us' to be their usual group, and he wasn't in the mood for 'fun' on this commercial night, "are going out to dinner for the holiday. I was wondering if you wanted to come. So, um, I'll be over later. See ya."
The machine beeped yet again, and the Uchiha narrowed his dark eyes to agitated slits. He had no money, and neither did they. He didn't want to crush the blonde's spirit by pointing out such a setback, however.
Not that he wouldn't be crushing his spirit as he did every time when he was invited out. Naruto didn't seem to understand he was still in convalescence; he didn't do the friend thing much anymore—unless they visited him. He was stubborn in that way; as much as they tried, he would not humor them by even going around the block. He wasn't leaving this house, and he wasn't going to meet anyone.
The young, raven-haired male sighed and reclined further back in his chair, dark eyes fixated rather unseeingly on the ceiling over his head. Was it even his ceiling any longer? He couldn't recall the last time he had paid his rent.
The phone rang again.
Itachi's jaded expression deepened into agitation. He was never called more than he was on Christmas Eve. The whole world was set on bringing the cheer of the season to the one person in Konoha who wasn't willing to receive it.
"Speak!"
"For God's sake, answer your damn phone…"
The Uchiha's eyes smoldered briefly with a mild touch of anger in his unusually expressionless eyes. He glowered at the phone, but he loathingly placed his guitar on the couch. Rising stiffly to his feet, the displeasure never breaking the cadence of his easy stride, he approached the phone. At least it wasn't someone trying to give him false happiness; just true irritability.
He snatched the phone neatly off the receiver, holding it to his ear. "Yes?"
A sigh reached his ears. "Itachi, you haven't paid rent in months."
"You know very well I do not intend to, Sasuke," the elder of the two brothers replied bluntly, leaning on the table and agitatedly curling the phone cord around his fingers, staring out the open window to watch the snow fall.
He should have expected his brother to wait until the day before Christmas Eve to bring up something like this. He always did take after their father. He smirked wryly at the thought, narrowing his eyes.
"I don't have to, anyway. You promised me," he continued quietly. "Or have you forgotten, since you're so well off now?"
"My investors would rather not me give charity so lightly," Sasuke replied slowly. He was guarded, trying to avoid to accusation. It wasn't too far from the truth; not too long ago, when they were both stuck in that building in their names after their father died, they vowed to be good to each other. Times changed quickly; especially when there was money involved.
"Hn," Itachi grunted, thinking. "You mean your father-in-law?"
"Sure," the younger interjected quickly, to which the elder of the brothers smirked.
"I never remembered you were so selfish. Have the Hyuuga corrupted you?" he questioned, poking at his brother for reactions. "Father would be ashamed."
"More the other way around." Itachi resisted the urge to laugh; he'd forgotten how to, however. "Look, Hinata's father is giving me an investment, and I can build up our enterprise again. But only if I can clear out this building to put something new in its place. Then you can get out of there… Don't you see it's good for you?"
"A lot of things are good for me," he replied gently. "I rarely do things for that reason."
Case and point: his inability to leave home.
"I am not a traitor," the older Uchiha continued dryly, leaving out the childish 'unlike you'. "Naruto would not appreciate me condemning Ino. She is trying to keep people here—you know… Those who don't have my potential to get out."
"Hn…"
Itachi's thoughts drifted, tired of listening to any of his brother persuasive methods. He knew they hated each other, but at least he was following their father's wishes slightly and giving him a chance to get out of the building before it was closed. He didn't appreciate the fact his family's business would continue to expand; the rich got richer, and the poor got poorer, it seemed.
"Fine. I'll give you another day. Try to let out your misery and get some rationality in. She's not coming back, you know."
"Whatever. Good-bye, Sasuke."
He hung up the phone without any warning, feeling increasingly bitterer about Christmas Eve tomorrow. His brother always did know how to spread the joy of the season. Heartless bastard. He let his eyes fall half lidded as he gazed at the machine for a few moments as he allowed the information to sink in. He'd have nowhere to go and he was reminded of the past. He clutched the edge of the wooden table, his irate eyes fading into somberness. Sasuke would be a horrible businessman, Itachi struggled to get something against the younger male out of spite, he was very unpersuasive and untactful.
Slowly, he turned on his heel and trudged back towards the couch, a flicker of something from the window caught his eye briefly. He furrowed his brow, turning to face the oversized view of outside. His feet carried him over to observe the scenery. It was dark outside, even though it was the day; a pall of dark clouds threatened snow and blocked out the sunlight entirely. He was tentative, uncertain of what had drawn his attention.
The Uchiha stood before the door, lightly pressed his hand against the cool glass, nearly recoiling at the obvious temperature change. He slid the window open, suppressing a heavy shiver as the frigidity of the air touched his skin.
He instantly regretted observing what was going on as a wave of heat floated languidly over his head, and he flinched, his dark eyes illuminated with an unnatural orange tint as he gazed into the fire. The sound of voices was the next thing that caught his attention.
There were people scattered on the cobblestone pathways of the village, all gathered in a group before what he could see from the aerial view was quite an animated person. The blonde hair he picked up after examining the situation was easily identifiable.
His breath swirled upwards in silvery wisps as he let out a sigh. Ino.
He rested his hands on the iron of his balcony, watching with mild interest at the scene. He could already see ANBU hovering nearby at the ends of the street, and he was quite certain they wouldn't appreciate the few burning papers fluttering downward. Or the littering in general; looking around, he could see mostly everyone in the buildings on the street was outside. As a paper twisted in front of his eyes, he snatched it out of the air.
His lips twisted into a knowing smirk, his eyes alight with acidic amusement. Sasuke had given the warning to everyone, it seemed. He let out an 'hmph' and tossed it casually, watching the paper twirl freely towards the ground again. He didn't care much about the situation. They were going to be quashed in their protests as they were every time, and he wasn't a masochist; he didn't want to watch their failed tries for freedom of rent. As nice as it would have been to succeed, it wasn't going to happen. He sighed, resting his forearms on the divider of the balcony and the village of Konoha. His chin rested on his head, strangely relaxed by the cold keeping him from focusing on Sasuke's words.
His gaze trailed idly over the building, daring to look down again. It seemed not much had happened so far, but something bright did catch his hooded, impassive eyes. He drew himself out of his thoughts abruptly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
The brightness was pink, and it was someone's hair. The conspicuous woman looked up at him, and the eyes staring at him made him forget the oddity of her hair color. They were stunning and vivid in a way that only people who could still feel could manage. And most distracting of all to him, they were green. His lips parted, his own black eyes widened as his mouth began to form the word 'Konan'. She inclined her head more up to look at him, and her long, petal-colored locks, lightly curled and falling to her waist, shifted with the subtle movement. They drew his attention, dragging him from that sweet reverie, that led him to believe, even for that second, Konan was alive.
He couldn't revert into his emotionless state, as he continued to stare rather shamelessly. It was exhilarating; the similarities made his heart race in his chest. It made him feel so alive in the first time in months. The searing hole in his chest left by the loss of love almost pieced itself back together, but she wasn't the same person and he didn't even know who she was. He had to remember that…
Her smile, however, was equally as staggering as her eyes.
The countenance was genuine, and it touched her fascinating eyes as she looked up at him.
He struggled to piece together his composure, and she stared at him as if she expected something. He found the ability to think and rationalize, and he soon realized that he was being rather rude… But he was not going to humor her with a conversation; he had nothing to say.
He cleared his throat, looking away from her and beginning to head back inside. But he couldn't help but feel the adrenaline course through him as he allowed the oh-so-real feeling of those painfully familiar eyes burned holes into his glacial façade.
"Ah, that bastard! He's kicking you out?"
Naruto called again.
Itachi sat with his ankles hooked together on the balcony in a chair, whose plastic had chilled horribly and seeped in through his clothes and into his skin. He had dragged the phone outside—it was precariously hovering in mid-air with its cords stretched taut. He didn't know why he enjoyed sitting out here in the bitter, snowy cold as the flakes accumulated on his lashes and dark hair, as he reminisced about the green eyes that stared up at him only hours before.
The cold brought him into reality, and he tensed to prevent himself from shivering as he listlessly stared off into the streets below. The protest continued, rather futilely, he noted. It was quieted and many had left, though he had found particular amusement when his brother had the nerve to show up. No one seemed to welcome him, regarding him with jeers and glares, and while he smirked in self satisfaction above the world, he knew his brother was looking at him with loathing eyes.
"Most likely," the Uchiha replied carelessly after a pause.
The stare was imprinted in his mind—that sort of 'oh, you wait' look was what it was. He didn't mind it; he'd find somewhere else to go… But perhaps the more significant of stares, that he couldn't shake, was the green gaze of the pink-haired woman on the next floor down. But he couldn't dwell on such things. "He did not seem happy."
"Are you all right?" he heard the blonde question needlessly, though there was a touch of concern intermingled in the simple sentence.
"Yes. I will find somewhere else to go."
"No, no. I mean you sound kinda distracted. What's up?" Naruto clarified, and Itachi could imagine his expression and hand gestures. His lips twisted into a smirk, as his eyes rested on the rally.
"Oh, no. I am just watching something," he murmured dismissively, though Naruto seemed unconvinced.
"There's nothing to see," the older man could hear the sneer in his friend's voice, and the Uchiha was amused the blonde assumed—and knew—exactly what he was talking about. "Just don't go out there, or you'll get caught. The ANBU is getting really impatient with Ino."
"I think it is admirable," Itachi drawled mutedly, as he twirled the phone cord, and he could feel the strain threatening to unhook the machine.
His eyes were as cold as the weather; he knew it was a waste of time. Most things were; Ino was just the type of woman to suspend reality and believe people will bend over backwards for her. She didn't understand the workings of the world, and she definitely didn't understand his brother—no sympathy. But, he was lying with his statement; he didn't want to get him talking on going out, and he didn't want to stray to the topic of his 'distraction'.
"That doesn't sound like you at all…" Naruto replied skeptically, the accusation of such clearly implicated in his tone. Itachi sighed.
"I have been thinking," was all he said, dryly in a way that let Naruto know it was probably about her. The whiskered man flinched on the other end of the line, praying he wouldn't relapse back into the depression for 'thinking'.
"I thought you stopped thinking," the blonde whined. "Don't worry me like this…" Itachi sighed again, watching his breath drift upwards into the crisp air. He glanced over the side of his balcony, warily.
He cleared his throat, frowning. He muttered, "No. It's not that. I just saw someone."
Naruto seemed to brighten; he always was so easily to please. His voice was higher, more jubilant for reasons he didn't know. "That's great! You got out of the house?"
"No…"
"Oh," the younger male sighed, but his excitement was not forgotten. "Well, either way. Who is she, what's she like? I'm glad you're actually doing something good for you!"
Itachi pursed his lips, still gazing out into the village. This time, the background noise was unimportant; he disliked talking about these kinds of things. He didn't trust anyone, didn't want to risk so much pain for losses again. "I don't know. I just saw her—literally. She lives downstairs."
The flame of the blonde's enthusiasm and persistence was impossible to put out. "What the hell are you waiting for, if you're bothering to spend time thinking about her?"
"I… don't think…" Itachi began, but Naruto would have none of it. He learned how to tune out noise, but with such a topic and the lack of anything else to do, he found himself trapped outside in the bitter cold on the phone with a too-talkative man.
Not to mention the green eyes of a young woman, gazing up at him as he spoke; the noise outside was too impossible to ignore. To Sakura, the deep, languid voice of the young man upstairs was far more entrancing than the meaningless protest.
The stairs creaked lightly with every movement, no matter how deftly and smoothly the Uchiha attempted to walk. It seemed to occur to him at this moment that when silence was intended, the quietest sounds seemed to echo off the walls.
He found this to be one of those times as he ran his fingertips tentatively along the banister. His footsteps were deliberate as he tried to disregard the sound. Speaking to Naruto was not a good idea when he was thoughtful; the man had a way to make someone talk, and he had quite a motivational side to him. He didn't think it was possible, but he had been swayed in the slightest way. He was humoring the blonde with 'meeting someone'. He was going downstairs to see this woman, learn her name at the very least. And never had anything been so difficult from what he could remember.
The stairs groaned beneath his weight, and it made uproar in the eerie silence in the building. He feared the noise would attract attention, namely the pretty young woman he saw just at a glance. What spurred on this attraction; her striking similarities to his late lover? But they weren't similar at all… Their appearances were opposites.
Yet it didn't matter. Their eyes; that same shade of green, with the same emotion—a silent boldness behind the beautiful, alluring exterior. He was attracted to what was lost, and he knew it was a bad idea. He was not ready for someone else; he was not willing to meet new people.
Regardless, here he was, walking down the stairs like a man who had committed a crime by his wariness and circumspection. The occasional window let no light in; the moon had long since come up, lighting up the gray skies after the flurries had stopped. It only added to the foreboding aura.
He felt so foolish, and as Naruto had said, this wasn't like him. He drew in a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his long black hair. His feet alighted onto her floor, and his dark eyes were fixated straight ahead of him to watch for any movement. It was completely still and silent and he considered it would be a nice night to go out. As usual, he had declined Naruto's offer. For once, he felt that was a mistake. He wanted to turn back.
Itachi could not understand this nervousness he hadn't felt in so long. Those eyes were just haunting, though. Their image was so vivid in his mind, each emotion portrayed clearly on the surface, shining with feeling he did not possess. The comparison with the eyes fading from his mind was almost exact; it was uncanny. His subconscious was tricking him; he did not think she was alive. Did he?
He hardly had too much of a chance to ponder over things; he was before her door. His mind went utterly blank. Social situations were an enigma, and he didn't know what to say to her. They hadn't ever spoken, hadn't ever been introduced. Yet, here he was, the great, calculating Uchiha Itachi reduced speechless and rigid.
He could only stare at the closed door, trying to formulate where exactly to begin. He rarely acted on impulse, but the belief that he would be able to see her again drove him into action. And now that he was here, he would live with his mistakes; Uchiha Itachi was by no means a quitter.
"Can I help you?"
And at the sound of her voice, the melodic cadence that made his heart skip a beat, he knew very well that he was kidding himself. He was very much a quitter. It was utterly baffling about the similarities; how everyone was against him and pushing him into a relationship while he was mourning.
Itachi turned, unyielding in posture to face her. His eyes were uneasy, his emotion reflected in his eyes. The amusement was obvious in the set that met his icy ones, vivid green shining with a curiosity that made him shiver. The ability to think was lost to him; he couldn't comprehend how this wasn't Konan. Their stunning attributes were only enhanced in the close proximity, and in the dim moonlight, her pink hair seemed even more unnatural.
"I…" he began dumbly, as he stared at her. He was completely caught off guard, thoroughly embarrassed, and cursing his blonde excuse of a friend.
He couldn't face her expectancy. "Wrong door!"
With that excellent substitution for talking to her, he hurried past her with his jaw set and heart fluttering with excitement. What his body was reacting to, he wasn't sure; that wasn't his lover.
Sakura was bemused. She leaned against her door as she watched the raven-haired man retreat up the stairs again—back to where he lived, she could only assume. But what was the point of coming down here? Her eyes were half lidded, concealing the slight disappointment etched onto her features as she crossed her arms to suppress the shivers.
She had seen him only twice, yet that emotion in his eyes was… unusual. She didn't know what he saw when he looked at her. But, she only knew that it was something, and she wasn't the type of person to let things go unnoticed.
She heard his door slam, and she moved to unlock her door. He would not be getting away from her next time after he took the initiative. Yet, something told her he wasn't coming back.
Perhaps she'd have to plan to pay him a visit.
Christmas Eve was supposed to be festive—and cheerful, at the very least. The scenery was right enough outside, with the bitter air that hurt to breathe—only made tolerable by the gentle flurries of snow the moved down from above to blanket the entire village in white.
But, the building was dull and lightless, unlike the rest of the village, illuminated in the twinkling decorations, the spirit was completely crushed in the inhabitants, and the noise outside was far too… irate to be Christmas-y.
Ino was at it again, with her group who seemed to never give up. But with his Scrooge of a brother, it really wasn't going to do anything. In fact, Sasuke was feeling particularly generous this year—and honest, which was surprising to Itachi.
He had shut off the lights.
No, he had called; he wasn't kicking the dwellers out just yet. He decided to be kind for the holidays. So, he left them without power.
Itachi felt especially bitter. He sat with the phone disconnected; he'd had quite enough of it these past few days—he had thought earlier today when Naruto called was bad enough. He had given the blonde man quite a lecture about talking him into foolish and rash things, but his friend was far too exuberant about the day to pay him any mind.
So, he was alone on Christmas Eve, watching the snow fall with the moon peeking through the sullen pall of clouds, and absently listening to the background noise of voices. It was futile; he was sure Sasuke was still lurking around—it was too early in the night for him to be finished his charity.
Worst of all, it was dark; far too dark to see, and his fingers stumbled awkwardly over the strings of his guitar. He was dry on inspiration, regardless—it came with the loss of emotion. Playing didn't matter to him at the moment; he was just waiting for the holiday to end, waiting for something he didn't know that would bring him some relief.
Itachi wasn't one to believe in miracles, but the sudden interruption of his inevitably somber thoughts was enough of one at the moment. Even if it was Sasuke; he was expecting that. It had to be another show of his generosity; something to make him worse off than he was. So, he smirked sardonically and cynically as he shifted and placed the instrument beside where he sat.
He rose from his seat sourly, though the acrimoniously amused expression still glinted dangerously in his eyes.
The young man turned the doorknob to his door, putting on his best faux-smile as he closed his harsh eyes. He wasn't going to put up with his brother tonight. "What'd you forget?"
The smile and eyes that met his own eyes took his breath away again, and he stared wide-eyed at the young woman, with long pink hair a pale complexion. She waved a candle at him, the smile remaining in place. He hadn't expected her to see her in his doorway, and he could only gape. Why did she do this to him; this painful racing of his heart? "Got a light?"
He couldn't handle this. He had to dismiss her again, and he drew in his breath with a frown. "I know you; you're- … You're shivering."
She smiled at him with a more triumphant sort of look, deliberately brushing past him with a careless shrug. The sympathy and dazed look was better than being ignored. "It's nothing; they turned off my heat," she replied tunefully in a voice that made him stiffen with nostalgia. "And I'm just a little weak on my feet. Would you like my candle?"
He pinned her with an unreadable expression, taking in the painful similarity as he moved awkwardly and hurriedly to locate a matchbox buried within one of his drawers. The note of her voice extended into the silence, and he stared sheepishly, letting the melody linger in the air.
Shakily, he struck a match alight, moving closer to her to touch the flame to the wick of the candle. The fire danced to life, her eyes appearing more beautiful in the dim lightning and her unusually-hued hair nearly shone in the moonlight flooding in through the large window. "What are you staring at?"
Flustered, he blurted out quickly, "Nothing. Your hair in the moonlight." He flicked his eyes towards her again before finding interest in the matches, and he tried to change the subject. And her resemblance to Konan resurfaced to his conscious. "You look familiar."
Sakura smiled slightly, though her eyes seemed to dull slightly before she stumbled with a pained expression. He acted quickly, steadying her by her shoulders as he looked at her critically, a small frown marring his calm features. "Can you make it?"
She stepped away, distracting him effectively with her smile. She shielded the flame with her cupped hand, twirling lightly. "Just haven't eaten much today; at least the room stopped spinning," she lied again, smoothly with her beautifully serene expression. He watched her spin with intense eyes as he contemplated over the situation. "Anyway… What?"
Her tone was in amused, in a light, teasing hiss. She found his almost shy demeanor about her arrival endearing. "Nothing. Your smile reminded me of-"
She cut him off, her soft smile never once faltering. "I always remind people 'of…'" she began almost exasperatedly with a discreet roll of her eyes. "Who is she?"
"She died," Itachi replied somberly, looking more serious and deadened. "Her name was Konan."
Sakura blinked quickly, not quite expecting that one- though perhaps it explained his darkness. She turned quickly, blowing out the flame quickly as she turned back to him with a faux-troubled expression.
She threw up her hands, allowing her soft voice to cut the awkward silence. "It's out again!"
The pink-haired woman paced towards him, her steps light and metrical upon the wooden floors. A shier smile twitched on her lips as she gazed at him. "Sorry 'bout your friend."
Itachi frowned lightly, looking down as he already began striking the match. She stood before him again, a somewhat repentant look in her brilliant green eyes, though there was a fire he couldn't place in them. "Would you light my candle?"
He lit it again, covering the flame with one hand to keep it from blowing out. He shook out the match, noticing her shifting closer to him. His neck heated up. "Well?" he questioned awkwardly, biting her lip at how she was lingering.
"Yeah?" Sakura replied expectantly with a charming smirk- could anything she does make him want to reserve himself and shove her out the door again?
He took a tentative step backwards, though she made it futile with a subtle, graceful shift forward. She held the candle, but she flinched, withdrawing one hand. "Ow!" She placed the afflicted finger in her mouth.
Itachi frowned, concerned again. He pointed uncertainly as she withdrew her hand from herself to shift it closer to his. "Oh, the wax…" he remarked dumbly, tenderly moving to grip her smaller hand in his to examine the mild burn. "It's…"
"Dripping," she purred softly, seeming to forget she was harmed as she gazed up at him with those entrancing green pools. She smirked, guiding his hand, and he could do nothing but comply.
"I like it," she sung smoothly, and he jumped as she placed his hand against her breasts, "between my…"
He panicked. "Fingers!" It didn't help that she leaned up against him, and he withdrew his hand from hers hastily. "I figured," he laughed nervously, backing away again. "Oh, well… Good night."
Sakura grinned with another amused roll of her eyes. She shrugged, seeming to listen to him, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. His heart was racing as she walked away, unused to being approached and spoken to by someone so akin to his past lover after so long. She walked over to the door, her heels clicking on the ground, and he didn't notice as she blew the candle out once again.
Ah, cute. Sakura fished in her pockets, deciding she made her intentions known and had flustered the handsome man enough for one night. She didn't want to be cruel, even though she hadn't gotten his name, but it didn't matter. Unlike him, it seemed, she had a heart. She laughed to herself, but when her fingers met nothing as she looked through each pocket in her light-hued dress, her expression turned concerned. Her green eyes swiveled to the ground at her feet, desperately searching until she stopped in the open doorway once more. She lifted her hand, feeling his gaze on her, and knocked thrice.
He fiddled with the box of matches, uneasy that he was being so affected. "It blew out again?" he questioned timidly with a small smile of his own, an expression he hadn't realized he made.
"No," she replied, and his eyes shifted to the doused candle, confused. "I think that I dropped my stash."
He gaped, heart nearly stopping as it wrenched painfully with memories now. How could she be so foolish as to get caught up with things like that? She looked so young, so attractive. He wanted to change to subject; he could tell she was interested- and maybe… he could give her a chance… It would be good for him after all- and hopefully, he could make her memory lapse.
"I know I've seen you out and about," he began slowly, but he thought quickly, improvising, "when I used to go out."
He paused, frowning. "Your candle's out."
She let out an exasperated, agitated sound as she clenched her fist. She still seemed to be scrutinizing the floor with a need for what he dropped that he knew all too well. "I'm illin'!" she growled, not seeing it anywhere. "I had it when I walked in the door… It was pure!"
She ranted quietly to herself as he watched her, silently hoping it was lost by some stroke of luck. He seemed surprised when she spoke again. "Is it on the floor?"
The Uchiha watched her with interest, though his face was puzzled. "The floor?" It was half to show he doubted it, and his eyes were fixated with an intensity she could feel on her back as she got down on all fours.
"Help me look."
He hesitated, still watching her.
She sighed, rolling her eyes as she pondered what was so fascinating to him. This was normal in the area they were in, so what exactly was his problem? So, to distract him again, she smirked, flipping her hair slightly. "They say that I have the best ass below Fourteenth Street," she stated in a way that wasn't really intended to be completely serious. Yet, as she smiled her most charming and looked up at him innocently. "Is it true?"
He looked completely caught off guard, putting his hands up with an awkward few notes of laughter. "W-what?"
Sakura straightened somewhat, kneeling and falling back to rest on her calves, and she beamed at him. "You're staring again," she laughed.
"O-oh no," the guitarist began, shaking his head as if to deny he was looking. But, he feared misinterpretation, and smiled shyly. "I-I mean… You do have a nice…" he caught himself saying, bothered by how much he was stuttering with one look from her. The attraction was undeniable. "I mean- you look familiar!"
He bent down, to join her in the search- secretly, only so he could take it from her-, smirking in self-satisfaction at his now-classic subject changer.
"Like your dead girlfriend?" she questioned, beginning to crawl, her eyes scouring the area without looking up.
He was unperturbed this time, moving in the same direction as her on the opposite side of a table. "Well, only when you smile," he replied truthfully, sighing. Again, an unsatisfactory topic… "But I'm sure I've seen you somewhere else."
She noticed him helping but was skeptical, so she quickened someone at the sight of something. She grinned, only to let it fall as she tossed aside a wrapper. He smirked discreetly.
The pink-haired woman relented. "Do you go to the Cat Scratch Club?" she asked idly, somehow doubting it. "That's where I work; I dance."
Itachi blinked. A dancer; somehow by her alluring manner and smooth movements, he should have guessed. But, he couldn't lie to her. "No," he shrugged. "Do they tie you up?" It was more of a joke, by the same token, not quite picturing her appearance to be working somewhere like that.
"It's a living…" she murmured in a more disheartened tone, and he smirked.
"I guess I wouldn't recognize you with the handcuffs."
It was her turn to change the subject, and she trembling raised herself off the ground slightly to kneel on one knee, looking up into his more amused eyes. But one look sent him back into that thoughtful placidity.
She trembled, glancing away as she held the candle up to him. "We could light the candle…"
The shaking was growing harder to bear, and she felt somewhat weak again. She disliked the feeling of being so unable to fight any slight colds, but the feelings of what she was addicted to outweighed it for now. Her eyes were slightly more pained as she looked up at him. "Oh, won't you light the candle?"
He obeyed silently, striking yet another match to light up the flame that just wouldn't seem to stay burning. She smiled lightly, their skin illuminated by the gentle blaze in their close proximity.
He cast a reproving look at her, frowning as he noted her behavior. "Why don't you forget that stuff?" he questioned sternly, eyeing her as he recalled how life-wasting it was. "You look like you're sixteen."
He braced himself on the table, pulling himself up. She smirked wryly, a look of defiance now on her face. She stood uneasily after him. "I'm nineteen!"
Sakura boldly took a few steps closer, flourishing the candle with a sway in her hips. Yes, a dancer definitely. She came uncomfortably close to assert her 'dominance' over him as he leaned back to avoid her touch.
She grinned, turning on her heel, and her hair flowed out behind her. "But I'm old for my age."
She swaggered away from him with a cadence in her step. "I'm just born to be bad." She turned gracefully, and he watched her fluid movements with a wistful expression, a pained smile twisting on his lips.
"I once was born to be bad." He stared now, noting she continued to look for her obviously lost stash.
She ignored him, holding the candle in front of her to light the darkness, bending over furniture and the innumerable bags from Itachi's move.
He sighed, his gaze more severe with seriousness. "I used to shiver like that."
She frowned, though didn't look at him. She hated to admit she was sick. "I have no heat, I told you."
"I used to sweat," he continued, knowing he was right on target.
"…I got a cold."
"Uh-huh," he murmured skeptically.
Catching onto his impatience, she sighed. "Well… Now and then I like to-"
"Uh-huh…"
"Feel good," she finished breathily, caving to admitting it to him. It's not like he was going to do anything about it anyway. She finally turned to face him, and his lips twitched into a thin smile.
Something caught his eye. "Oh, here!" He quickly scooped it up; hiding it behind his back as he subtly slid the package she had dropped into his pocket.
She grinned expectantly, her eyes lighting up eagerly. "What's that?"
He smirked with a shrug. "Oh, pfft… Candy bar wrapper."
He had won, and he wasn't intending on giving it back to her. It was obvious she knew as she began advancing upon him again, and he took a few smooth strides backwards to avoid her. Yet, she was unshakable. It was obvious she was a stubborn woman.
He smiled dismissively, but not to be dissuaded, she attempted to reach around him. "We could light the candle…"
He thought quickly as she leaned forward, and he extinguished the flame with a sizzle between his two fingers. He looked at her innocently. "Oh, what did you do with my candle?"
She shook it lightly in her hand with a scolding look; turning to face him as he quickly moved to sit down on the couch she had led him to by backing him up when she approached. She put her hands on her hips, and he shrugged with a mock-disappointed expression.
He had gotten what he wanted, and he would speak to her later, he supposed. She distracted him, and drew him out of his self-pitying mood. Now, he would try to help her. "That was my last match."
Sakura laughed inwardly at the attempt, dropping the candle on the floor with an 'oh well' sort of sound. She maneuvered herself to step on the armrest, situating herself on it very close to him again. "Our eyes will adjust. Thank God for the moon."
Itachi faltered again, looking away. Finally, he turned back hopefully. "Maybe it's not the moon at all. I hear... Tsunade's shooting down the street." He turned with a convincing expression, pointing in a random direction somewhere out the window behind them.
She wondered if he could read minds to tell the woman mentioned was her idol, or if he just rattled off someone's well-known. Regardless, she wasn't stupid. She caught his hand. "Bah, humbug," she murmured, turning his larger hand over in hers, studying it idly. "Bah, humbug."
Both her hands held one of his, and he tensed, gaze on the floor. "Cold hands…" He swallowed nervously, feeling his heart pick up slightly.
"Yours too," she remarked quietly. "Big… Like my father's."
She seemed to brighten as one hand eased from his. He glanced up at her as she shifted her position to be on her feet, and she tugged him up impatiently. "Do you wanna dance?"
He stumbled as she backed up, and he slowly moved to stand before her again. "With you?" he asked quietly, too dumb stricken by the rare and odd contact between them.
"No," she laughed, extending their arms and twirling herself beneath his. She swung on his arm lightly before letting it go. "With my father."
"I'm… Itachi," he blurted out quickly, flushed again, and he looked around oddly for a moment as he realized he had completely broken the rhythm of their conversation.
She grinned, slowly approaching him. This time, he remained rigid, as she kept that charismatic smile up, brushing close to his body as she walked around him. "They call me…" She reached into his pocket, glancing down at the top of the plastic that she kept her stash in. He didn't seem to notice with his anticipation. "They call me…"
She walked around him again to come into view, and teasingly, like him with no rhyme, she let out a resounding note with a finality that let him know she intended to leave. He gaped, realizing how foolish he had been to be caught off guard as she waved the small bag in front of his nose. "Sakura."
Now, she was pleased that she had the last laugh and had exchanged their names. She'd be sure to pay him a visit tomorrow, but for now, she could relish in her victory. Her heels clicked on the floor as she smirked valiantly, but she let out a gasp when a strong hand gripped her wrist.
"Sakura, is it?" Itachi questioned in his smooth, deep voice as he pulled her closer. She was powerless against him, pouting he wasn't willing to let her walk away with her ego.
His smoldering eyes were filled with something she couldn't identify, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. She nodded stiffly, unsure of what he wanted.
Though, he seemed satisfied with her answer and eased his vice-grip. He smiled very slightly.
"Would you like to go to lunch tomorrow?" he questioned softly. He felt his heart wrench again, though it wasn't exactly painful, when her eyes lit up and entranced him yet again.
"Sure…" she murmured, the sincere smile spreading over her face. It was a start, and she supposed a good gift for the holidays.
"I'll come get you at noon, then," the Uchiha decided nonchalantly with a shrug. "Now. Good night."
Sakura beamed, turning away from him finally to hurry towards the door, closing it behind her quickly. She could hardly believe that actually worked. Not to mention, she had gotten what she initially wanted out of him. She stuffed her hand in her pocket, though her hand was empty, and she cursed. She knocked three times, but all she heard from the other side of the door was a resolute and teasing, "Merry Christmas."
She glowered, turning once more to go back to her apartment.
Itachi sighed with a light smirk at the heroine in his fingers, knowing a sudden action like he had done would catch her off guard enough for him to take it back. And, it wouldn't hurt if he had somewhat of a date with her. It was good for him. Hell, it was good for her-- he wasn't planning on letting her keep doing this to herself, and he glared distastefully at the powder he held. Not another would be lost—or lost as quickly as before.
He found perhaps Naruto had some good ideas, and Sasuke's attitude had some… very few… good effects. He frowned lightly, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart as he gazed out the window. Perhaps there were some miracles—he could only hope the best for his too-far-gone brother.
Miracles weren't that hard to believe in; they came late and in different ways for some people. He thought of the eyes that had him captivated every time. The holidays weren't horrible all of the time.
Finished.
