After our successful battle against the smoothie abomination, I headed back up to my room to pull myself together for my first day of work. I found a box resting on my purple sheets that hadn't been there before. A note was taped to the top.
Uniform for bar. Don't be late.
Pein. It was almost a swear in my mind. Ignoring the box for the moment I staggered into the bathroom. The bathroom was in between my room and the one next door. The whole floor was set up this way, one bathroom to two bedrooms. Except Pein's room which was a master suite of some sort. The general lack of clutter didn't give any clues to who I shared the bathroom with.
I soon found out. When I was naked in the shower. When Itachi wandered in and started brushing his teeth.
"Ita-kun." Itachi's entire body went tense like I had zapped him in the ass with a taser instead of another nickname.
"Yes?"
"I'm showering."
"I'm aware of that," Itachi spit into the sink and looked into the mirror right at me through the clear shower curtain "but as I am a non-virginal straight man, I was not afraid of seeing something unknown."
This resulted in a bar of soap finding a new home in the back of a very cranky Uchiha's silky black haired head.
Why'd you have to assault him? A hot guy watching us shower is a good thing.
Shut your fucking mouth Inner.
Uchiha debacle aside I was soon back in my room staring at the offensive box. I ripped it open and dumped the contents on the bed.
Three long sleeve black button downs tumbled out. The buttons were actually tiny red clouds. The shirts themselves were satin. Expensive, and custom. On top of the shirts was… an order form? The sizes had been left blank. A laundry list of tank tops, t-shirts, hoodies, sweats, and jackets. Apparently they were really banking on my joining Akatsuki, if they were pre ordering gang colors for me.
I quickly pulled on underwear. Freaking uniforms already. A pair of dark denim skinny jeans, a lacy red camisole, and one of the button downs next. I rolled the sleeves up like I had seen Itachi's, and left enough buttons undone on the top to show a hint of red. Long pink hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and black eye liner swept across my lids.
That'll do.
Pulling a comfortable pair of black boots on, I headed down to the bar.
The quick detour to punch Hidan in the ribs for telling me my boots would look great next to his ears was completely justified.
I slipped inside the back door of the bar and blinked owlishly at Zetsu. Who was wearing an apron and wielding a knife so large I immediately named it overcompensation.
"Pein's up front."
Talkative as always.
Nodding a thanks at Zetsu and agreement with Inner I headed through the clean and brightly lit kitchen and stepped into the main area. The doors from the kitchen opened right behind the bar. The interior was done in dark browns and soft reds, creating a warm atmosphere. Black accents appeared here and there. Pein was leaning on the bar with a pen in one hand and the other pushed into his hair. I stepped out of the bar area and took up a seat on the stool directly across from him. Multicolored eyes blinked at me sleepily.
"What's up boss?" Pein looked mortally offended by the amount of cheer I managed to convey.
"Filling out orders for the upcoming week." He pushed a completed order form towards me.
"We try to keep our orders as local as possible, keeps the Akatsuki in the neighborhoods good graces. But that also over complicates things." Pein sighed and shuffled the papers around again.
"Anyway, Itachi will be down in a few minutes to walk you through the basics, we open at noon."
Itachi was apparently not ready to forgive the soap incident, because his version of walking me through the basics was a five minute tour of the front, with a vague grunt thrown in here and there.
After a very ugly minute of Pein shooting Itachi a side eyed glare, and Itachi doing a magnificent impression of not existing, Itachi took me on a more thorough walk through.
"Here's the menus, we have a list of custom drinks on the back with the appetizers so those are the drinks you should memorize quickly." Itachi's hand kept drifting up to the back of his head to rub a spot of hair I'm sure was vaguely soapy still.
The menu's themselves were a simple red on black theme, lamitated front and back so each customer could be provided with a menu and a dry erase marker. I could immediately see the benefit. The customer could completely customize their order, and it eliminated the bartender as the middle man to cut down on mistakes.
With an eerie floating grace Itachi wandered behind the bar and stared at me blankly.
He's still mad.
I followed Itachi behind where we went through a vaguely threatening demonstration of how to make the most popular drink. Showing me the locations of various well alcohols, sliced fruit, and mixers. The "Filthy Luck" was made in a tall pint glass. A splash of grenadine was poured in the bottom before ice filled the glass. Next Itachi grabbed a metal shaker cup, threw a scoop of ice in and proceed to pour vodka and Bailey's in equal measure. A smaller glass to the top of the metal shaker, and with a baleful glare in my direction Itachi shook the mixture. He pour the mixture carefully over the ice adding a white layer to the drink. Another metal shaker, more ice, this time followed with cinnamon whiskey and Kahlua. Again with the shake and pour. The final touch was a chocolate covered strawberry carefully sliced and stuck the to rim and two long bar straws. Altogether the red, white and black layers played off of each other nicely.
"It tastes like hell but there's enough alcohol in there to please anyone, and it matches the decor," Itachi offered the drink to me with a slight crinkle at the bridge of his nose. One sip was enough to put a matching wrinkle in my nose.
"That's disgusting," I handed the drink back to Itachi who unceremoniously dumped it down the sink.
From there Itachi slowly warmed back up, showing me the ins and outs of bartending. When the first customer of the day slouched in, Itachi gestured vaguely then followed me over like a persistent ghost.
The customer looked,,,, suspicious.
Creepy grandpa alert.
Wild fluffy white hair cascaded down the man's back secured in the most half assed ponytail I'd ever seen in my life. His dark eyes sparkled with a lecherous light and the grin spreading across his face threatened to devour his entire face. Aside from the perverted aura that surrounded the man the most remarkable part of his feature were twin tattoo's running down his cheeks like a trail of bloody tears.
I forced as much professional kindness into my face as possible, "Hi there what can I get you?"
A frankly alarming amount of eye-brow wiggling commenced, "Something cherry flavored would be a lovely start to the day you gorgeous girl."
Cyanide and cherry syrup it is.
Pretending my alter ego wasn't cheerfully planning his murder I offered the man the fakest smile I could muster. I was saved having to dignify him with a response when Pein slipped out of the darkness and slapped the older man on the back of the head.
"Leave her be you pervert," Pein shot me a side-eyed look full of long time suffering and sympathy, "He will have a whiskey coke and tell Zetsu that Jiraiya is here, he'll know what to do."
Itachi slunk off looking mildly put out that I was saved to make the drink.
I took my escape and slipped back into the kitchen just in time to see Zetsu carving small bits of tomato off.
With a spoon.
He was...dicing tomatoes….with a spoon?
I tried to ignore the fact that said spoon had a wildly sharp edge, and was cutting through the poor fruit easier than most knives I had met.
"Jiraiya is here?" What was meant to be a statement turned into a question as the lighter half of Zetsu's face frowned. The darker side however quirked into a smirk.
Best street preformer ever. If he could not murder everyone.
"Thank you. But tell him to release another book or we'll poison him."
The second half of Zetsu's sentence seemed to come from a totally different voice than I had previously heard. I blinked.
Tomato juice dripped.
"Ah. I- right."
Self preservation won out and between an old pervert and a potential schizophrenic cook I chose the lecherous old toad.
Back in the bar Pein and the Jiraiya were sitting side by side at the bar. Itachi was haunting the far side of the bar with a rag in hand.
Multicolored eyes caught mine and a slight jerk of the head summoned me over.
"Sakura this is Jiraiya, he actually owns this building, but in return for free drinks and food, and the occasional job we pay very little in rent." Pein smacked Jiraiya's hand out of the air.
"Also never shake his hand."
An air of deep indignation rippled around Jiraiya, "Zero respect for a person such as myself. I am a world renowned author."
"Have they added porn to the best seller list?" Itachi chimed in while lazily polishing a glass.
"It's nice to meet you," I smiled slightly and lied through my teeth.
"He grows on you. Like a fungus."
The two toned sentence signaled Zetsu's arrival to the bar as he set down a plate of breakfast food that I had no memory of being on the menu. Jiraiya immediately abandoned his offended airs and tucked neatly into his breakfast sandwhich.
Zetsu noticed my slight confusion and shrugged.
"Long time customers and staff get a little leeway with food orders, as long as we have the ingredients. And it's not too damn fucking complicated."
The white half of Zetsu's face smiled at me.
"Right. I'll uh, I'll bear that in mind thank you."
Zetsu lurched back into the kitchen with little grace.
Itachi polished the very clean glass.
"You'll do fine." Pein's words would have been more reassuring if a very demeaning head pat hadn't followed.
The rest of the shift went smoothly. Itachi had a keen sense of situational awareness, that somehow allowed him to know exactly when I needed his help, and when he could leave me to figure it out.
At six, Tobi and Kisame slipped in the employee entrance. I briefly contemplated how the building was still standing if those two were the night bartenders.
After splitting the tips evenly, despite my protests, Itachi herded me upstairs. Entering the common area I became aware of the biggest downfall of being a bartender. I smelled. Like fifteen different types of alcohol and grease.
Seeing the dismay and disgust ripple across my face Itachi sighed.
"Go shower, lock both doors this time. I'll see what's for dinner."
"Bless you Tachi." I ran up the stairs to the sound of an annoyed snort.
An uninterrupted shower was bliss. The box of posters sitting on my bed was not. Apparently Deidara had taken a deeper offense to my blank walls than I anticipated. The box was full of sketches of tattoo designs, Akatsuki members in various actions, and a perfectly folded paper rose.
Ignoring the warm fuzzy feelings erupting in my chest I changed into a pair of black sweatpants, and a clean blue tank top.
Setting the box of art carefully on the floor I curled up on top of my bed. So much had happened in just a few days, but I was no stranger to that. The strange part was that this was the first time it had happened for the better.
Ignoring the way my mood dipped slightly at the depressing past I jumped off the bed and headed back downstairs.
Sasori, Deidara, and Konan were huddled in the living room bickering quietly about different tattoo's and clients.
Itachi had his back to me rummaging through the fridge. I took a step into the kitchen when two arms wrapped around my middle and lifted me easily.
The resulting "meep" that escaped had my captor chuckling. The deep tone and lack of hair everywhere narrowed my attacker down to Sasori.
I found myself sat down in the living room once again sandwiched between Sasori and Deidara. Konan offered a slight eye smile.
Apparently a very picky client had gone into the shop today. She wanted an intricate leg tattoo of differently flowers twisting around her leg, from ankle to hip. Not only flowers, small birds and butterflies, even a few hidden words. The client's refusal to sit long enough to have stenciling done on her own leg led to my left leg being stolen by three peeved tattoo artists.
The markers tickled slightly and the smell of food wafting from the kitchen was remarkably relaxing.
See. Not so bad after all. Play this out.
A/N: Ah. So I'm back. This chapter has no point except being a chapter and setting up some character interaction. More to follow.
