Umbra

In interim: All Eyes


"We can attest, arrange
We can assess, we can attain
We are the entry for entities
To entice and entertain"
- All Eyes by Imagine Dragons


Bang, bang, bang!

"It's wake up time, Rabid-Kitty-chan!" a voice boomed in the apartment building's hall. How their neighbors had not complained to the building manager was a mystery, as she was sure that these loud wake up calls were common enough to warrant one.

"Fuck," Sakura groaned into her pillow, pulling another one on top of her head to ignore the incessant pounding on the front door of her apartment. Blearily, the exhausted university student blinked her eyes slowly as another set of hammering blows rattled the front door. There was shuffling throughout the apartment as she heard some of her poor roommates rousing from their own slumbers.

Checking her phone, Sakura let out another lengthy growl. It wasn't even 7 a.m. on a Saturday, and she had two missed calls from the man currently trying to break her door down.

What was that lug doing here so early?

"I know you're in there, you lazy piece of donkey shit! Get out of bed!" Amazing how clear his voice was through the door, she internally speculated. Then there was stomping from the living room as the distinctly male steps came barreling down her hallway.

"Damn it, Ino," the pinkette muttered to herself, cursing her best friend for letting in the brash man who had just threw open her bedroom door with little ceremony.

"There you are! You're still in bed?!" he bellowed from the door. "You're going on tour in a few weeks! It's time to whip you back into shape!"

"Fuck you, Hidan!" Sakura shouted from her safe burrow under piles of blankets and pillows, but it came out muffled and whiney from her place interred in her bed. "I don't wanna! It's Saturday!"

The young grey-haired man, that acted as her personal trainer and kept her in celebrity shape, was at the foot of Sakura's bed in two large steps. "Too damn bad," he retorted with a snort. "I hope you're decent under those blankets because they're coming off!"

"Noooooo," the pop star wailed as Hidan grabbed the bedspread in two fists and went to rip it off of her. In an iron grip, Sakura clutched onto the covers as hard as she could, but it was no use – Hidan was much stronger than her and her comforter was tossed to the floor, exposing her prone, shivering body, clad in a tank top and an old pair of Shikamaru's basketball shorts.

"You have three minutes to be ready for a run before I come back in here, whether you're naked or not!" he commanded, heading back to the hallway and closing the door behind him roughly. It rattled the picture frames hanging on her wall. He wasn't bluffing, either; Hidan did not make idle threats.

With a string of curses flowing from her mouth, Sakura hoisted herself out of bed and padded to her wardrobe, reaching in blindly and dragging out some decent workout clothes. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a clean tank top and threw her sleeping clothes by her pillows. After tossing her comforter back on her bed and pulling on some socks and her running shoes, Sakura made her way to the bathroom, where she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and pulling her hair back and out of her face with a hair tie.

This was all done in a mechanical, pre-caffeine fashion, her overall demeanor more of a zombie than the glamorous celebrity her fans thought she was. When she emerged from the bathroom and made her way down the hall, she found Hidan lounging comfortably on her plush sofa, feet kicked up onto the coffee table, looking like he belonged there. Before she could chastise him for being a rat turd jackass, a warm cup of black coffee was handed to her, halting her verbal assault in its tracks.

Itachi smiled, sipping his own cup of over-sugared coffee – the elder of the Uchiha brothers had a major sweet tooth that Sakura found as endearing as she slightly off putting (she had never seen someone have more sugar and creamer than coffee in a cup).

Ino was in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and swinging her legs back and forth like a child. For every bit that Sakura was a night owl, Ino could hop out of bed and be her normal, perky self after five minutes.

Sakura loathed it.

Grumbling incoherent insults to herself for not being as put together as her friends, the tired woman sipped her steaming mug of black heaven and trudged into the kitchen just as the toaster popped.

"Those are yours," her blonde roommate said, taking a bite out of her own toast. She had peeled and cut up a few bananas and had them on a plate to share. Sakura put some of Hinata's (homemade, bless that woman) orange marmalade over the warmed bread before popping the citrusy toast into her mouth and groaning in pleasure. She then went to town on the bananas, sipping coffee between bites of the ripe fruit.

It wasn't long before her breakfast was gone and her coffee, only half drank, was pried gently from her fingers before being replaced with a glass of water. Itachi set her coffee on the counter.

"Hydrate before exercising," was his easy explanation, earning an exaggerated eye roll and a huff of dissatisfaction from his pink-haired counterpart. He had begun drinking a glass of water as an exemple, and Sakura, while irritated that her coffee had been taken away, still followed his orders by downing her own glass.

It wasn't long until the three of them were waved off by Ino, who had to help her parents at their flower shop that day. The three jogged to the nearby Ueno Park, where they did stretches, lunges, sit-ups, and pushups. They then made the 4 kilometer run to Konan and Pein's shared apartment in Taitō.

Not long after their arrival, Sakura found herself sitting at the power couple's kitchen table with Deidara, Sasori, and Konan alternating staring at her ruddy face, still flushed from her exercise, and an oversized sketch pad that was laid out in front of them. There was a rough sketch of a woman's face taking up the majority of the paper that Sakura assumed was supposed to be her, and Konan had a smaller book with full body sketches on it.

"Purple," Sasori stated matter-of-factly, running his hand through his spikey red hair. He heard the intakes of breath of the two consultants next to him, but before they could protest, he held up his hand, grabbing his colored pencils with the other.

First, he colored in the currently white drawing of Sakura's hair black and then took several shades of purples and blues and drew streaks down the hair, so they were subtle over the black base. "It'll be understated enough but very unique and different. Pein said that the music he's been preparing for her album has a lot of hip-hop and rock undertones. This will fit the feel of the album more. She's not 18 anymore; she's grown out of the loli look we had for her first album."

"I'm going to have to come up with a whole new wardrobe for that color scheme," Konan stated, grabbing her own colored pencils and some things out on her personal pad. "We're going to have to limit warm colors and focus more on blues, purples, and pinks. Reds and yellows will clash with the hair."

"I'll need a new wig as well – I can't bleach the old one again," Sasori speculated, making some notes in his phone for later. Kakuzu, who was in charge of Sakura's finances and reconciling them with the record label, was sitting on the couch with Hidan playing videogames on Pein's big screen TV.

"Hey! Don't go spending money we don't have," he chastised. The distraction allowed Hidan to get ahead in whatever racing game they were playing, and the grey haired man seemed to win whatever competition they were having. Kakuzu jumped up from his place on the couch, throwing his controller at a slumbering Kisame, who was on an adjacent couch, so he could take over. The green-eyed accountant walked into the kitchen area with purposeful strides, a frown tugging his lips downward.

"Why does she have to have four different outfits like that? They all look the same."

"They aren't the same!" Konan retorted, her eyebrows furrowing in irritation. "This is a tank top, this is a tunic, and these are three different bottoms! And they're all different colors!"

"They look the same to me!" Sakura looked between the duo and wondered who would win in a fist fight if this argument came to blows. Konan, her face serene and replies sharp, stood up and Kakuzu almost took a step back.

Konan – Konan would definitely win. If anything, no one was stupid enough to mess with Pein's fiancé.

"Hey Sakura-chan," Deidara said, vying for her wandering attention, he had grabbed the large sketch pad from Sasori, who was sending e-mails to suppliers to get quotes for a new wig for her, "What do you think about light amounts of glitter?"

"I'm thinking Ino will kill you if I get glitter all over the apartment," Sakura grunted. She was beginning to get grumpy – it was past midmorning and the exercise had left her hungry. Deidara nodded. "Maybe there is a brand of body glitter that only comes off when wet so it won't stick to your couches."

Kakuzu was now arguing with Sasori, seeming to get over the "wine and eggplant being two different colors" argument he was having with Konan, to focus on the cost of fake hair. After a few more moments of pointless squabbling, Kakuzu pulled out a piece of paper and a calculator and went back to the couch to crunch numbers, seemingly accepting fate, but it didn't matter, as the three in charge of her look were now arguing with each other again.

Her beauticians were rabid when attacked.

Sakura rolled her eyes, but continued to allow her team to bicker. They were the experts in their fields, so as long as she got final veto power, could pick and choose some options, and had creative control over her music, she would let them do their jobs. As the noise of the squabbling grew louder (Deidara had the audacity to make a clothing choice suggestion, and Konan was smacking him with her sketch pad), Sakura barely heard the door to Pein's office open, and the music producer and her choreographer stepped out.

Ignoring everyone, Itachi made his way to her, leaning against her chair and towering above her with the smallest of upturns to his lips. "We listened to the final cuts of Powers and Not the Same. I can definitely choreograph to those."

Sakura grinned – she had written those two songs for her second record, but they were a little darker than the overall tone than the rest of her sophomore album, so she benched them until the right time. When Pein had sent her sound bites of two tracks that had heavy hip-hop and dance influences, she knew exactly which lyrics to put with them.

"There is still a lot of work to be done," Pein reminded her, dropping a thumb drive in front of her. "I've also finished Around the World, Secrets, Hikari and Yami, and To the Moon. Those with Umbra, Powers, and Not the Same makes seven. We'll need to record at least eight more to give to the record label. Listen to these and see if there is anything you'd like to change."

Nodding, Sakura slipped the flash drive into her bra (where else was she going to put it?) and scooted her chair out. The heat was beginning to get unbearable in the apartment with too many people in it. There was a patio just outside the living room, so she stepped out to breath in the cooler air. Summer was rapidly approaching, and spring was in full session.

Itachi followed her.

"I don't understand how they can argue like that," he murmured quietly. They could hear the voices getting louder inside. At some point, Kisame would stand up and shout something, making them all shut up – he was the old man of the group, after all, and often took on the role as father to the squabbling children.

"They're like the siblings I never had," she replied with a chuckle. Itachi looked at her.

"What are your plans after this?"

"After?" she asked, eying him curiously. A breeze swept through the walkway of the apartment, and Sakura signed contentedly at the cool wind that tickled the drying sweat on her brow.

"You signed a four record deal with the label, so after your next two albums, your contract is up. Will you sign another deal?" he clarified. He had brought out a bottle of Qoo* with him and offered her a drink. She took the grape flavored juice and took a few sips before passing it back with a snort.

"Are you thirteen?" she teased. He did not buy her attempts to change the subject, though, and kept his dark eyes on her. Sakura sighed. "I don't know – I'll still be young enough when the fourth record is finished, probably 25 or 26. I could do a few more after that. If I didn't… I guess I'd go on to be a doctor…"

"But?" He always knew her so well. Sakura lifted her shoulder in an attempt to shrug.

"You guys are all my best friends. I mean, I know I have Ino and the other girls, and Sasuke and Naruto and the rest but… this group has been lucky enough to be friends and know each other and work together for so long. More so than ending my career… could we all say that we'd be together if I stopped making music?" Sakura asked. The question was semi-hypothetical, but also, it was a real fear of hers. She gestured back to the apartment, where Kisame was now shouting at everyone to shut up. "I'd miss this."

Itachi's eyes softened, and he awkwardly wrapped an arm around her and squeezed before letting it drop back to his side. Physical displays of affection were never his forte – he usually left them to Deidara or Konan.

He didn't have any words of comfort, as she wasn't wrong, but he shifted a little closer to her and handed his drink over. She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder, and the two continued to listen to the uproar of arguing going on inside the apartment behind them.


End Part I


AN: I really wanted to write a story that also had Sakura's friendship with the Akatsuki represented in some way. While the main chapters will focus, to a larger extent, on Sakura and Sasuke, the "interim" chapters will be shorter and focus on her friendships with the Akatsuki. The next interim will be about how Sakura became friends with this group.

The more reviews I get, the more I write. It's a motivation thing - us millenials need lots of positive reinforcement.