title Tundra
summary Don't say dasvidaniya just yet.
Sakura arched an eyebrow. "Rubles?" she repeated.
Tenten nodded, fidgeting with a particularly sharp knife. She sat on the arm of the chair, one elbow resting on Sai's shoulder. He didn't seem particularly annoyed by the lack of personal space.
"Cops say that they were fed hundreds of Russian coins before they were killed," Tenten reported.
"They literally would have been shitting rubles," Sai added, chuckling at the very idea.
But Sakura let out a sigh, leaning back in her seat.
"That lacks creativity. And here I thought we'd finally see something interesting," she lamented. She glanced at the bottle of whiskey Sai had brought with him. It was an expensive imported brand. She poured herself a glass. Because if she was going to be bored, she might as well be drunk.
"Mm... I wouldn't really say that, Boss. They all had the same serial number on them," Tenten added.
Sakura turned her head toward her. "Oh?"
"We're trying to figure out if it's a code or something. Maybe coordinates? Or a phone number?" Tenten went on.
Sakura smiled, white teeth flashing before she took a gulp of her whiskey. She exhaled, feeling the burn travel down her throat, settling in her stomach. Stinging and warm all at once. She tilted her glass a little before she glanced up.
"Hou. Tell me more."
Lotus and Bloom was rather busy when Sakura arrived. Not so busy that the hostess didn't recognize her when she stepped out of the elevator. She bowed deeply, hands folded across her stomach. Sakura followed her up to the second floor where her table sat waiting.
"We'll have your wine out in a moment, ma'am," the woman said as she handed Sakura the menu. Sakura didn't respond, running her finger across the thick leather.
Sakura peered over the edge of the balcony, down at the tops of people's heads below. She turned her head when a waiter arrived to set a glass of dark red wine down in front of her.
"Would you like to hear tonight's specials?" he asked.
He was attractive. Long-eyelashes, narrow eyes. As she looked him over, he seemed to feel the shift in her gaze. The way it turned predatory, just for an instant.
But then her gaze darted up to meet his eyes. And he flinched.
"Yes," she sighed, no longer interested.
She let him rattle off the long list, not really listening. And when he waited for her to order, she picked the first special. Tenten and Chojuro arrived not long after the waiter had taken her order. They stepped up to the second floor. Chojuro in a grey suit and Tenten in a sparkling green dress. Chojuro held her hand as they walked, like she needed help balancing.
They headed to the bar, only nodding at her as they passed. Looking too friendly wouldn't be good. There was no guarantee that they weren't being watched already.
Sakura swirled her wine around in the glass. Letting it warm against her palm. Watching the flames on the candles flicker when she exhaled against them. The bright tongues of fire wobbled but didn't die.
She was vaguely aware of the chime of the elevator arriving on the seventh floor. Setting her wine down, she rubbed her thumb along the edge of her lower lip. Just to make sure that her lipstick hadn't smeared. She lifted her chin when she heard shoes tapping up the stairs.
The golden hair caught her attention first. There were two men- both so blond that their heads almost seemed to glow. As they came up the stairs, their eyes fell on her table in the corner. The one right next to the glass barriers that gave a clear view of most of the first floor of the restaurant.
The hostess gestured to the empty seats across from Sakura. And then she bowed before she made a quick exit.
The younger of the two nodded at Sakura before he took a seat. Sakura took in the high bridge of his nose and the thick, nearly translucent eyelashes that fanned around his stare. His eyes were impossibly blue, glinting like he knew some sort of secret.
His companion had a seat too. He was older, his gaze sharper. They had the same eyes, the same broad shoulders. Sakura took a sip of wine to hide her smile. She was acutely aware of how her guests followed her every move. She used the corner of her napkin to dab at her mouth.
"I'm wondering if I should have brought an interpreter. My English isn't so good these days," Sakura said, testing the waters. She was unsurprised when the older man replied in near-perfect Cantonese.
"We've been doing business with the Triads for many years. It would be inconvenient if we needed an interpreter each time." When he smiled, there were faint crinkles around his eyes, like he had spent a lifetime making the expression. Until the smile had carved its way into his very skin.
Sakura didn't return the gesture.
"If you've been doing business with other groups for so long, why reach out to me now?" Sakura asked.
The younger man rubbed the side of his nose as he spoke. "Honestly, we had no interest. Everyone knows that the Dragon Head of the 24K has little love for Russians," he replied. And although there was some clumsiness in some of his pronunciations, his Cantonese wasn't half-bad either.
Sakura's attention shifted to him.
"Then I'm sure that you're busy enough supplying guns to the Inuzuka-kai and the like. I still don't see the point in this meeting. And you went to such lengths to get my attention," she pressed, just to gauge his reaction.
The rubles inside the bodies found in Causeway Bay had been easy to decipher. The serial numbers pointed to the coordinates of this very restaurant. And instead of the year they were minted, the coins had a date and time. Sakura had anticipated something a little more compelling when Tenten had reported her findings.
Admittedly, this was better than some of the boorish dealings of their allied Huang Group. And it was certainly preferable to the butchered bodies that their rival Suns left lying in the alleys of the city. But it was all a little too easy. She had hoped for something a bit more challenging.
"We got a call from a very old friend. He asked us just to meet with you. And what we'd heard was that you were not an easy woman to get a hold of," the younger man finally explained. He reached into his jacket pocket. Sakura didn't move. But she caught Tenten tilting her head in their direction, seemingly immersed in conversation with Chojuro. Waiting for the moment she would have to intervene.
He tossed a clear plastic bag on the table. Inside were a handful of bullet casings. Next, in an identical bag were diamonds of various shapes and sizes.
"Our friend didn't specify why you'd like to meet. But these are usually the two things people come to us for," he declared. And then he draped his arm over the back of the booth, watching her. The pride in his expression shone through in those eyes.
Sakura didn't touch either of the bags. She eyed them both over the rim of her wine glass as she took another sip.
"You're not impressed..." the older man observed. Sakura glanced at him. His eyebrows rose as he took in her expression. She didn't respond.
"I have no interest in dealing with strangers. And without a proper greeting, you'll remain strangers to me," Sakura declared. The younger man's smirk dissolved. Eyes hardening, he reached into his jacket again.
This time, a knife came whizzing through the air. It embedded itself deeply into the table just in front of him. Both men's heads whipped around to find Tenten and Chojuro still sitting at the bar. Tenten was staring at them, eyes gleaming. Chojuro sat with his back to them, still enjoying his drink, like he was oblivious to everything going on behind him.
"I don't know if other people find this whole routine charming," Sakura sighed. Their attention returned to her. She picked up the plastic bag that held the diamonds. Shook them a little bit. "But rudeness doesn't sit well with me." Sakura threw the diamonds back onto the table as if they were made of shit.
The younger man drew his gun. He held it steady, aiming between her eyes. Sakura ignored him as she spotted the waiter walking up the stairs with a tray. His eyes went wide when he saw the gun pointed at her. But Sakura smiled, motioning for him to come over. The tray rattled as he approached.
"Good timing. I was just getting hungry," she said. The terrified waiter set her plate in front of her. Eyes bouncing from the gun to her, back and forth. His jaw was held tight. But he only retreated when Sakura nodded at him. Even then, he didn't run. His brisk steps led him down the stairs, back into the kitchen.
Sakura dipped her pinky into the red sauce on her plate. It was sweet but also tart. And then, like she had forgotten all about it, she lifted her head to look down the barrel of the gun. Her smile returned.
"I wouldn't if I were you," Sakura warned. She reached out and wrenched Tenten's knife out of the table. Picking up her fork, she used Tenten's knife to begin carving her steak. The older man pursed his lips, like he was trying not to smile. The younger man didn't notice because he was glaring at the bar now.
Tenten held a revolver in each hand. One aimed at each of them. Chojuro had turned too, tossing back the rest of his drink as he raised his own arm. And then a point of bright red light appeared on the table. It wobbled for a second before it traveled. Coming to rest directly on the chest of the older man. His companion cast the light an angry look before he focused back on Sakura.
Sakura dipped a slice of her steak into the red sauce.
"I mean, you can kill me. But you'll also die here. And I think that might ruin your night," Sakura went on, her voice light. She took a bite of her food. The dry-aged steak melted in her mouth, buttery and crisp all at the same time. She savored the flavors that spread across her tongue. She sliced off more steak as she chewed.
"So either pull that trigger, or fuck off so I can finish my dinner," she ordered. Eyes locking with the older one, she ate another slice of her steak. Teeth scraping over her lower lip, tongue darting out to lick up a stray drop of sauce.
The two men exchanged looks. Slowly, the younger of the two lowered his gun. The red point of light didn't budge. Neither did Tenten. The older man muttered something to him in Russian.
The younger one reached for the plastic bags. Sakura slammed the point of the knife back into the table. His hand froze. The blade had landed in between his middle and ring fingers. She didn't look at him as she continued enjoying her meal.
She listened to them slide out of the booth. To their polished shoes clacking across the floor as they headed down the stairs. Only when the elevator doors slid open did the red point of light disappear.
"Wei, Boss, wasn't this supposed to be a friendly meeting?" Sai asked into her ear. She could hear the clicking as he adjusted his rifle. Tenten snorted.
"That was friendly. Fuck the Russians," Tenten remarked. She leaned toward Chojuro, shoving her guns back into the holsters he wore under his jacket. Chojuro spread his arms to the sides to give her better access. When he lowered his arms, there was no trace of the firearms.
Tenten tapped the counter. When the bartender looked up, she slid her empty glass down to him. He caught it and refilled it with more whiskey.
"Boss, I still don't understand. You don't need anything from the Russians. Why did you even bother with them?" Chojuro questioned. Sakura only smiled as she cut herself another generous slice of steak.
Sakura flew back to Tokyo the following evening. The complementary champagne warmed her. She stared out the window, watching the sparkling shapes of Hong Kong fade from view. The ocean was so dark that it almost looked like a void had opened up in the earth. As if the plane would plummet into the depths of hell if it chose to land.
The five-hour flight was a familiar passage by now. Sakura closed her eyes, letting the flight attendants think she was sleeping. The drink cart clattered by now and again. She pretended to rouse once to accept another glass of champagne. And after she downed it, she came very close to actually falling asleep.
Chouji picked her up from the airport. He wore his hair slicked back, just like Zabuza. She found it a little funny how much he looked up to the older man. And in a way, she was a little envious. That all it took was a single grunt or nod from Zabuza to light up Chouji's face. She wondered if she had ever lived life so simply.
It had snowed in her absence. The streets of Ginza were dusted in the white powder. The most garish billboards and neon signs were muted under a layer of ice. Softening them. Making them seem almost beautiful. The car idled just down the block from Twilight Dreams. Sakura lowered the window, watching as the men entered and exited through the front door. A few flakes of snow drifted into the car. Chouji didn't complain about the cold air, only turned the heat up.
"You're not heading inside, Boss?" he finally asked after a while. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She shook her head, cigarette smoldering between her lips. Smoke coated the inside of her lungs as she drew in a deep breath. And when she exhaled, the cold air whisked everything away.
After a while, Sakura drew away from the window. She leaned back in her seat.
"Where to, Boss?" asked Chouji, shifting the car into gear when he saw her move.
Sakura began raising the window. Paused. Because she recognized another car idling further down the street..
"Roppongi Hills. I'm tired tonight," she uttered. And then she raised the window all the way.
When Chouji dropped her off at her penthouse, she spared him a smile.
"Zou tau, Boss," he greeted her.
"Good night," she replied before she stepped out of the back seat.
Sakura waited for the car to pull away before she headed into the lobby. The guard on duty bowed at her as she passed. The ride up in the elevator was quick. And when she swiped her key card, she half-expected him to already be sitting inside. But the inside of the penthouse was dark and cold.
The jacket she had left crumpled in the hallway was still there. There was a faint rumble as the heater came to life. The sensors in the foyer caught up a second later, pools of light flickering on one by one.
She kept herself occupied for as long as she could. She took a bath. Sat in the lavender-scented steam for a while. She had a glass of wine. Which turned to three. Burned through a cigarette on the balcony, letting the cold seep into her bones as she watched the city lights blink on and on.
She was nearly asleep by the time the door opened with a click. She listened very carefully. Her eyes drifted open when the door to the balcony slid. His gloved hands took her face.
"You're freezing," Itachi said. And his voice was almost lost to the wind. An ambulance siren wailed somewhere in the distance. Her gaze roved over his face.
She pulled out of his grasp.
She moved past him, over the threshold. The warmth of the indoors enveloped her like an embrace. She rubbed her free hand up and down her arm as she walked. She heard the balcony door slide shut.
"You met with the Russians," Itachi stated. There was no point in trying to deny it when he knew the truth already.
Her sweater hung from her elbows as she headed down the hall. She listened to him follow her. The sensors flicked on lights as she walked. Illuminating the path just ahead of her. When she stopped in the living room, she finally turned to look at him.
"You met Namikaze and Uzumaki," Itachi went on telling her what she already knew. She didn't feel the need to respond. Because she recognized that look in his eyes.
"Uzumaki has a... reputation," Itachi added when he saw her eyebrow rise.
Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair. Turning her back to him, she headed up the stairs. The second-to-last step creaked a little under her weight, just the way that it always did. Itachi's hand caught her wrist when she reached the top step. HIs hand was warm.
"I don't want to fuck a 20 year-old, Itachi," Sakura snapped.
"That's not what I was implying," Itachi answered. But her glare cut through that half-hearted lie.
"Yes it is," she scoffed. And she pulled out of his grasp. He grabbed her again. His hands squeezing just enough to keep her there. They stared at each other. And after a long moment, a smirk curled the corner of Sakura's mouth.
"You hurt my feelings, Itachi. So what're you going to do to make it up to me?" she challenged.
Very slowly, his grip relaxed. His hands turned gentle as they slid up her forearms, past her elbows. Sliding her sweater off her, revealing the reds and burning oranges of the artwork inked into her skin. HIs lips found hers- not quite in apology. She let the cold of her own body seep into his, leeching the heat from his skin, his bones, and the very marrow that lay within.