EDIT Whoops, almost forgot to give credit: Masashi Kishimoto owns Naruto and the Akatsuki.
There.
Hey guys THANK YOU all who have read/faved/reviewed this so far I LOVE YOU it means so much to me. Stick around; part two will be up soon. That's all ;)
-RainbowDoom :)
If you could survive dinner with the Akatsuki, you could survive anything.
It was the only meal each day at which the entire organization was present. Breakfast was a nightmarish free-for-all scavenger hunt, usually resulting in the consumption of peanut-butter-and-pickle sandwiches, cereal, or the occasional three-week-old pastry. Lunch was just as bad, if not worse; no one was really around, and the few who were tended to keep to themselves, not leaving much time for conversation (or, for that matter, eating in general).
But dinner?
Everyone showed up, and stuck around for the duration of the meal – though nine treacherous serial killers with assorted areas of expertise all gathered around one table often led to some rather ill-fated predicaments. Pein realized that a set of dinner rules were in order after one particularly violent evening during which:
a) Itachi's plate suddenly and inexplicably exploded, splattering the infamous Uchiha with little bits of rice;
b) the discovery was made that Samehada is sharper than it looks and can, in fact, cut through a solid wooden table;
c) Konan realized that she never should have asked what was in the sauce and vowed never to let Zetsu cook ever, ever again; and
d) Hidan took a large bite out of what he believed to be his dinner but what turned out to be the ornamental centerpiece.
A food-flinging contest rapidly ensued. Two weeks later, they still hadn't managed to get the last remnants of spaghetti off the walls.
The list of dinner rules is as follows:
1. No genjutsu.
2. Do not eat the table.
3. No casualties.
4. Musical chairs is forbidden.
5. Refrain from ranting.
6. Don't chew with your mouth open.
7. No clay at the table.
8. Hands (and other body parts) to yourselves.
9. No stripping.
10. Food stays in the kitchen.
That and the seating the chart, which did not include Tobi sitting next to Deidara or Hidan sitting next to anyone (he was given a separate table in the living room) were put into effect next day.
Somehow, it didn't seem like much had been resolved…
Being a notoriously evil leader of an equally notorious evil organization has its ups and downs. Worldwide recognition was one advantage, as well as plenty of (somewhat) loyal followers to do your bidding.
The major disadvantage? Paperwork.
Various agents and spies wanted payment, sooner rather than later. Forms had to be filled out, records had to be checked, hit lists updated. It was a delicate business, and definitely not one for the easily distracted.
Pein glanced at the hairline crack above his office door for the ninth time that night. It looked kind of like an upside-down ice cream cone… the crack, not the office door. That would have been odd.
Two stories below him, the Akatsuki were gathering for dinner. Pein could hear Hidan complaining in the way only Hidan could complain, complete with extensive colorful vocabulary, about "why the hell the forks always have to go on the left side of the plate".
Kakuzu's distinctive voice sounded next, a lecture concerning the correct placement of knives, forks, and plates about the table.
Pein tilted his head. Hmm. From this angle, the crack looked more like a four-leaf clover.
There was a sudden sound of breaking china and a loud "Shit-" from Hidan.
No, definitely an ice cream cone. Probably.
Pein began to roll his pen back and forth on his desk with his index finger. From downstairs, there came the sound recalling that of someone being beaten to death with the blunt end of a katana.
Four-leaf clover. Well, maybe not. Perhaps it was something else entirely – clover-flavored ice cream, for example.
He then heard an enormous WHOOOOOMF from the direction of the living room, followed by crackling noises.
"ITACHI-" he heard Konan yell. More crackling. The sounds of someone being beaten to death with a katana continued.
A new voice: "Stop it before it – Not the curtains! I just cleaned those curtains!"
"Get Leader-sama!" someone shouted amid the cacophony.
Ice cream cone. Definitely.
Frantic footsteps. Then the sound of the sink being turned on, full blast, which was going to be a problem later, as the sink seriously needed repairs, stubbornly resisting being turned off past a certain point.
The crackling increased in volume. "We need buckets-" Pein heard. There was a loud, splintering crash. Someone screamed, probably Deidara.
Then Pein's door (not shaped like an ice cream cone, remember?) came flying open. It bounced off the opposite wall, probably leaving a dent, and Kisame burst into the office. Light flooded in from the hallway.
Bearer of bad news as usual, Kisame announced the following.
"Er, Leader-sama, thought you ought to know – the living room's on fire."
Pein followed Kisame down two flights of stairs and into the living room. Or, at least, what had recently been the living room but was now a flaming pandemonium.
Kakuzu was beating Hidan to death with the blunt end of a large katana. Zetsu, Deidara, and Konan had formed a struggling bucket line which was making little progress in putting out the flames. Tobi had crawled under the coffee table. Itachi smiled disconcertingly from the far corner, fire gleaming in his eyes. The curtains were singed. Pieces of plates, cups and silverware were scattered everywhere. Pein put his fingers to his temples and sighed.
"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to put it out," Kisame yelled over Hidan's muffled protests and the roar of the flames. "Remember last time, with the sofa?"
It was true: sofas were remarkably spongelike when waterlogged. In fact, they tended to make an unfortunate squeeeeching sound when sat upon by extremely distinguished clients bearing vitally important business opportunities.
It was a risk Pein was willing to take this time. Rolling his eyes, which made them look like swirling vortexes of terror (which of course they were), he shouted, "Put it out," and Kisame obliged.
The mist-nin made a rapid series of handsigns and water surged into the room out of nowhere, sweeping up the living room furniture in the sudden tidalwave. There was a sound akin to the world's largest teakettle boiling over as all the flames were extinguished at once. Steam filled the room, mingling with the smoke and producing a rather interesting smell.
Just another day at the Akatsuki hideout.
Two hours later, dinner was served. Cleaning up the living room had been a memorable experience: Deidara had been found pinned beneath the large ornamental cactus, relatively unharmed but looking like a failed acupuncture experiment; pieces of cutlery had been strewn everywhere, and there was a fork stuck in the center of Hidan's forehead which he hadn't yet managed to remove.
"Now, Itachi," Pein said, once they had all settled down in the kitchen. "What exactly compelled you to set the living room on fire?"
Itachi frowned. No one ever asked him why he did things; his actions were generally accepted. He didn't really know the correct way to answer these kinds of questions, so he just went with the answer he had given the last time someone had asked him "why". Which had, in fact, been a prepared speech.
"To test my abilities," he said. "If you wish to kill me one day, foster your hatred and despise me. Surviving in such an unsightly manner as this – by all means, flee. Cling to your wretched life."
The Uchiha stood up and left without another word. They decided not to pursue the matter any farther.
Konan leaned in across the table and said in a hushed undertone, "You know, it's his birthday in two days. Don't you think we should do something?"
Deidara shook his head vigorously. Kakuzu ducked to avoid the onslaught of cactus needles and cast a worried glance down at the checkbook in his hands. And Tobi all but squealed, "Tobi thinks that's an excellent idea, Konan-san! Let's get started right away!"
And that had settled it.
Operation Itachi's Surprise Birthday Party, Top-Secret Meeting #1.
"This is ridiculous, un."
Tobi looked up from the list which he had been dutifully adding to and frowned behind his swirled mask. "Itachi-san deserves a nice birthday party, Senpai. Don't you think so?"
Deidara yawned, then scowled. "Not in the slightest, Tobi, and–" he peered at Tobi's list, determined to find fault. "Itachi doesn't even like lemon cake, remember?"
Tobi gasped. "That's right!" he squealed, one hand flying to his forehead. "Thank you, Senpai! Just for that, I think I'll let you be in charge of making Itachi's cake. Won't that be fun, Senpai?"
Deidara's scowl deepened. "I refuse, un. I'm not making a cake for that art-murdering Uchiha–" and he would have said worse except that Tobi cut him off with a cheerful "Perfect!" and added his name to the list.
The Akatsuki minus Itachi were all gathered around the oblong table in the red-carpeted, black-walled meeting room, bleary-eyed and still in pajamas. Tobi had insisted upon calling a meeting, pre-sunrise, to discuss plans for Itachi's surprise party celebration, which the Akatsuki had been none too happy about.
Hidan, at the head of the table, had buried his head in his arms – awake or asleep, he certainly wasn't paying any attention. He had finally managed to yank the fork out of his forehead during his previous night's shower, and had passed out then and there from extensive bloodloss.
Kakuzu, who had been sent in to collect Hidan out of the shower and clean up the bathroom, was sitting as far away from Hidan as he possibly could, next to Kisame, who was apparently extremely interested in a kunai he had found in his pocket.
Deidara had stayed up for five hours straight to get all the cactus needles out of his hair and face, one by one, and had been beyond ill-tempered when Tobi had skipped over to his bed to wake him up at four thirty that morning.
Pein was glancing at the black, red-rimmed clock so frequently that he appeared to have a twitch. He'd be willing to bet his last piercing that Itachi, nemesis of all birthday parties everywhere, would either burn down the lair upon finding it covered in balloons and streamers, or not be able to distinguish the balloons and streamers from everything else and simply walk away, uninterested. That was Itachi's problem. Expert combatant as he was, he was simply too predictable sometimes.
Konan leaned back in her chair, twirling a few strands of blue hair between her fingers and trying not to look too bored for Tobi's sake. And Zetsu… well, Zetsu was hungry. And as much as Zetsu would listen patiently to Tobi's long retellings of dreams and even play board games with him on occasion, that black-clad, green-scarved, orange-masked, mouthwatering morsel was starting to look pretty tasty right now.
"Kisame!" chirped the mouthwatering morsel, and Zetsu jerked out of his wistful daydream, quickly wiping away the drool that had been accumulating around the black side of his mouth. The unfortunate Mist-nin looked up from his kunai warily.
"Yes?" he said, and gulped.
"Kisame, you're Itachi's partner, so I think I'll put you in charge of Itachi's birthday present. Okay?"
"Er," Kisame said, twirling the kunai around his finger distractedly.
Silence.
"Great!" said Tobi. "Now, we still need to get a hold of some music, snacks, a great big piñata, pretty lights, lots of flowers, rainbow balloons, confetti, a disco ball, more confetti, appetizers, party hats, birthday cards, candles, muffins, party favors, maybe a pony, a giant fruit salad, scissors, wrapping paper, ribbons, and probably a microphone. Oh, and we need to make sure that Itachi doesn't find us out before we're ready. Does anyone have any ideas?"
More silence. And then…
"Actually," said Pein slowly, turning away from the clock, "I think I might have one…"