The beginning of the end,
The end of the beginning;
Which really, is which?

Chapter 4

To Sasuke, his life was like an ever-changing picture, with too many variables and no constants, it seemed.

At a young age, villagers and family members alike had often labelled him with the word 'cute'. It was a memory that, in his early teens he shuddered to think about and now, merely smirked at, for the irony of it all. With a childish laugh and smile to follow, he had traced his aniki's every move with as much accuracy as a small, seven year old body would allow. In that mind frame, he had thought that it would last forever. Whenever Itachi would flick his forehead and wave away his pleas for a little time together, and when the soft gentle smile of his mother would smooth out the frowns of his father – back then, everything had been good, even if he had been almost too young to understand that.

In his early teens, Sasuke often heard his classmates adorn him with the label cool, and the villagers with pity in their eyes and tragedy on their lips. Nothing had mattered then – what had he left? Nothing. Along with nothing, he forgot how to smile, to laugh and to live. Some of the decisions he made had not been perfect – as he knew now, but it was nothing he regretted. Perhaps the loss of some of those things had been a pity, but it had been absolutely necessary.

And now, in his early twenties, there were far too many words for him to remember them all. Karin's opinion of 'hot', and that word again, 'cool', were too much on the surface to matter at all. Suigetsu's laughing 'fearless!' was one he could agree to somewhat – but perhaps, there was too much untruth beneath that statement for him to truly accept it. Juugo's silent respect was enough for him to acknowledge, but respect lost its value to him long ago, buried deep with the memories of things he didn't want to know any longer.

And then, there was the general opinion, the words that were imprinted on the pages of the Bingo Book – vicious, ruthless, deadly, and in some, twisted. These words, coined thoughtlessly and with every bit of morbid intention were the only ones he could tolerate considerably. Understandably, he had picked up, over the course of his lifetime a burning hatred for liars and their trade. But these words, painted red with the blood of all that he had sacrificed, told no lies.

Twisted.

That's what he was – twisted and ruthless. The truth echoed loud and clear from these two simple words, reverberating with the consequences of his actions.

But, that wasn't to say that those other labels, like Karin's star-struck 'cool' held no glimmer of truth. It was a gift bestowed upon him by his lineage – with a sharp tongue and patrician features to follow, Uchiha Sasuke was not unlike any other Uchiha at the time. Graceful, beautiful, talented, invincible – these, translated into any semblance of modern conception would constitute for the word cool. And he was cool. The aura of absolute superiority constantly shrouding him never thinned to a tolerable level for others, and that was part of what set him apart.

Sasuke was simply not stumped by anything, never without a quick repartee and a sharp glare to follow.

But at the moment, Sasuke felt the doubt claw over him as the reality of the current situation set in. For the first time in his life, Uchiha Sasuke felt truly lost. For one, the scene unfolding before him was one he never thought he'd see again. Standing as casually as ever, gracefully upright with a curiously indescribable expression fixed on his face, was none other than Uchiha Itachi. His aniki, the good guy, the deceased good guy.

Sasuke blinked.

Itachi stared.

Kisame let out a low whistle.

"Nice place you got here," Kisame commented lightly, the amusement glimmering in his eyes. "It's a shame about the floor though, really-"

"Itachi?" Sasuke blurted. And, when no reaction came from Itachi, the latter left out the only reaction he could fathom. "What the fuck?"

"I see your manners have not improved even slightly since our last encounter, Sasuke."

"Since our last encounter?" Sasuke replied, bewildered. "You are dead. There are no more encounters! I killed you. I killed you."

"You are correct, otouto."

Sasuke, to save what little was left of his pride from his momentary outburst managed to snap his lips shut as he digested the current situation. Apparently, his Chidori had malfunctioned when he drove it straight through Itachi's heart a little over two years ago. Either that, or Itachi really was invincible.

In his shocked stupor, memories of the heart-wrenching reconciliation with the dying Itachi lost to the more powerful memories of how much he had detested the elder Uchiha, how extracting revenge had been his only goal. That is, until Itachi elaborated on his eternally cynical words.

"However, I thought that we had reconciled," Itachi murmured, almost as if to himself. "Perhaps, I was mistaken in my thoughts that I had earned your forgiveness."

And then it hit him, like a blast of cold water on a summer's day. Words, memories played within an eternal Sharingan, fires, blood – everything he had learned that night, everything he had spent the last two years proving and disproving again washed back over him in a tidal wave. Orders. Konoha. Forced. Danzou. Mission. Not his fault. Not his fault.

If Sasuke had been a lesser man, staggering backwards at the overwhelming presences surrounding him would've been unavoidable. But as it were, the younger Uchiha managed to keep his balance, while his insides fought in turmoil with each other. What the fuck was going on? Why wasn't Itachi dead? Why was he here? Why the fuck was he still alive?

"...Itachi?" Sasuke repeated, this time, a little tentatively. "Itachi?"

"Sasuke," he acknowledged once more, with a small nod. "We do not have time for useless banter. Do you trust me?"

"Do I trust you?" Sasuke echoed, still bewildered. "Wha-"

"Good."

And before he could truly digest what was happening, what his aniki's cynical words meant, why he was still alive, the two silhouettes disappeared, too fast even for his Sharingan eyes. Instincts forced his body to swivel to the right, where the too-familiar chakra of his aniki had warped to, but it seemed then that no matter what he did, he would always be inferior.

In the seconds it would have taken Sasuke to react to the scene before him, the two men had already disappeared from view, through the other end of the crater they had created. Which wouldn't have been a problem, except in the space where Sakura should have been, only a tattered cushion lay.

Which left him with no Sakura, and too many questions unanswered.

And without another thought to leave behind, he gave chase.

"That's a sneaky trick there, Pinky," Kisame commented, amusement filtering through his orbs.

Sakura, tucked neatly under Kisame's arms, shot the blue man the most dreadful glare she could muster. However, she found she couldn't really summon up the appropriate anger for being manhandled by a half-fish, being abducted from her kidnapper, and most importantly, having her reserve chakra sucked right out of her. She should have been shitting and steaming out bricks at the pair by now for foiling her near-perfect escape plan, but the realization that they had accomplished her objective for her finally hit.

Why would she ever be mad at them for finding her? She had just spent the better part of two months running around the world at large looking for these very people, with less than no success. And here they were, offering themselves up to her...albeit, in her original plan their roles were reversed, with her being the captor - but at least she was now making progress.

With a relaxed smirk, she replied with enough nonchalance to throw them off their balance. "It's only sneaky if you realize what I'm doing," she paused as her head was thrown back with a rather rough landing on a shaky tree branch, but continued nonetheless. "Otherwise, it's rather clever, don't you think?"

Raising a nonexistent eyebrow, Kisame exchanged a quick glance with Itachi. "Shouldn't you be thrashing, kicking and screaming bloody murder? You have quite a notoriously fiery temper, Pinky."

The sharp, piercing laughter that was her reply surprised them more than her words did. "I think it's because you guys have this sort of rustic charm," she laughed with a twinkle in her twin emeralds. "I can't help if I've fallen victim to it."

Kisame, not too concerned with her apparent delusional behaviour, appeared much more amused than his partner at this moment. Though Itachi could probably care less if she did happen to be a schizophrenic psychopath, their incessant and completely irregular chatter was beginning to ire him.

"Perhaps you've gone mad with your prolonged stay in that dumphole," Kisame mused as he sent an absentminded glance down at Sakura.

"Perhaps I have," she chimed back, undaunted. "What Sasuke said had a point though. Aren't you two supposed to be dead? I must be seeing things now..."

"Kisame." Itachi's voice cut in with a tone of finality.

Sakura was almost shocked to hear the other man's voice. In the hour they had already travelled together, he had yet to utter a syllable. His graceful movements were so silent that she had nearly forgotten his physical presence between her irking conversation with Kisame and her mind whirling away to process an answer. In response, the bulky blue man only shrugged his shoulders slightly, but offered no more words to their provoking conversation.

Huh. Interesting.

Sakura had always known that Itachi held more leverage in their partnership. Any shinobi worth their salt in these trying times would – or at least would've, before their supposed death. But for him to shut the bigger and generally more hostile looking man with just one word was a little more than disconcerting. Personally, she had always been under the impression that though the former was the case, people working within the rings of Akatsuki generally held their own agenda, and didn't adhere too strongly to the policies of comradeship, let alone allow for hierarchies within their own partnership.

But apparently, she had been wrong.

"So I must be seeing things now, since you've gone all quiet."

Unsurprisingly, she received no reply.

"Oh, now you've gone and become utterly boring. You do realize what a terrible bore this is for me, to be ferried like a package by you with no entertainment at all-"

With a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrows, Kisame promptly knocked her out. He concluded that he would never again wish for something as preposterous as an amusing, intelligent prisoner – it was definitely much more than he bargained for.

Beside him, Itachi almost smirked for his victory, unnoticed by Kisame. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of his plan, but it was one less step to take.

And now, the puzzle pieces would all begin to fall into their places neatly, one by one.

When she awoke again, she wasn't sure what she was seeing.

Her first reaction was to assume it was a hallucination, and a nice one at that. The soft bed she was currently sprawled out on was comfier than anything she had experienced in years. When she shifted her weight slightly, the foam mattress accompanied her, with the silk spread sliding like milk across her body. With a soft sigh, she snuggled in closer with the sheets, digging her exhausted body deeper into the mattress.

Yep. It was definitely a dream.

Her loved ones lying in a state entirely too close to death, whoring her body out to the highest bidder (a.k.a whichever loser had the most useless information), running around the shinobi world in circles like an idiot – in this dream, she could leave it all behind. Including her unfortunate encounter with Sasuke, and then Itachi and Kisame, and-

Shit.

Eyes flying open, Sakura whipped her bleary body up into a seated position. And she was once again forced to reassess what the hell was going on. Apparently, the plush bed fit for a Lord was not the only thing she had dreamt up. To match the obsidian satin of the bed, black drapes billowed loosely against the soft zephyr blowing in. The furnishings, though not gilded to match her current royal hallucination, were beautiful in their simplicity. Dark, stained mahogany to compliment the dark shades of the room, so beautiful that she could hardly believe she was the one dreaming this up.

She'd never had a flair for the beautiful, dramatic, or anything of the likes. That had always been Ino's strength.

And now, she was simply confused. She was adamantly sure that she had in fact been abducted twice in two days, the second time by two supposedly dead S-classed nuke-nins. But her situation, or dream, or wherever the hell she was now contradicted that too completely. The simply framed window, open window, she added to herself, was big enough to fit three girls her size through simultaneously. And, unless people who had already visited Satan were more prone to sudden surges of kindness, she highly doubted a prisoner would be treated to the kind of accommodation she had now.

Hell, she didn't even live this nicely at home.

Quick as a butterfly, Sakura steadied herself on the dark planks covering the ground. The missing warmth was painfully obvious, and she had half a mind to crawl back into the bed to sleep this confusing nightmare away. But she forged on, and with every step she took, the floorboards creaked unforgivingly under her weight. The urge to cringe with every squeak was there, and for the first time since her genin years, she felt like an elephant trying to crawl away unnoticed.

That feeling only intensified when her doors swung open, revealing the topic of her thoughts.

"You sleep as much as you talk, Pinky."

She didn't know if it was despair, annoyance or surprise that surged through her when the blue-man burst into view, but she surmised it was a mixture of all three. Annoyance though, definitely tugged harder than the rest when she remembered the tiring charade she had been putting up for them.

Plastering on a cheeky smile, she sat back easily on the blush bed, swinging her legs out like a cherub child. "Shishou always said that a woman can never sleep too much."

"Nothing can damper your mood, eh, Pinky."

"Why would it? You guys have given me such nice accommodations," she paused here, hoping to glean some semblance of a reaction from the man. Nothing. Disguising her disappointed/frustrated sigh with a whimsical tone, she widened her smile. "I should be thanking you."

He shrugged. "Don't think anything of it. You're worth much more to us than a few spare sheets, considering-"

Kisame smirked. "Didn't think I'd give away all our secrets now, did ya?"

The hope that could barely be concealed in her shining orbs just seconds earlier died down with the realization that he had simply been baiting her.

"Well, here's your food," he finished, dropping down the tray balanced on his fingertips with grace unfit for a man of his size. "Wouldn't want to starve you now."

She watched unblinkingly with seething eyes as he swivelled around and out of her room, the door swinging shut behind with him a quiet bang. The moment his body was out of sight, the saccharine smile dropped from her face. Now that she'd had a chance to really skim over everything that had transpired thus far again, the alarm bells were ringing at an impossible decibel level in her already frazzled mind. Too taken up in her all too necessary game of charades, she had overlooked one detail too many.

Or perhaps she had simply gone mad from exhaustion. Delusional or not, she was entirely shocked at her own lack of surprise at seeing Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame again, considering their 'death' two years prior. She supposed she always knew on a subconscious level that Itachi simply would not die that easily, and Kisame's mysterious death had been all too suspicious too be true. But like the rest of the shinobi world at the time, she had been only too happy to accept that two of the most notorious and dangerous criminals had departed their world.

But this only left more questions unanswered.

Worry nagged at her brain when the forgotten glimpse of something she probably shouldn't have seen floated back to the forefronts of her brain. Though drugs had been running through her system in an abundant amount at the time, she would bet her best jutsu on it that she had seen the members of Taka donning the traditional Akatsuki garb. No thoughts had been wasted on that at the time. Konoha had long ago shovelled out the hidden ties between Sasuke's posse and the criminal organization, and it had merely been passing confirmation. But if Sasuke had been so shell-shocked to see his aniki again, and there was no doubt in her mind that his surprise had been genuine, how could he possibly have ties to the group?

If Taka wasn't part of Akatsuki, what was their goal in parading around wearing their ridiculous garb? Whatever the case, Sakura could barely suppress the rising anxiety within her. Aside from the piling amount of unanswered questions, everything she had learned in the past few days contradicted too completely the information Konoha was clinging on to like a lifeline. Information would need to be passed to her mentor as soon as possible, which lead to another problem entirely.

This place, whatever it was, raised too much suspicion.

Jumping off the bed, Sakura tiptoed to the still-billowing curtains. Emerald orbs squinted of their own accord as they drank in the image of the wide-open frame, practically inviting her to just jump ship. Suspicious. Way too suspicious. Reverse psychology or not, she wasn't going to tempt fate just yet by attempting the stupid. Turning around again, she blew out an exasperated sigh.

Everything about their actions screamed abnormality.

They had gone through an awful lot of trouble to bomb her way out of Sasuke's quaint basement. And, judging by the monstrous trees shrouding the house she was currently in, they were definitely no longer in Waterfall. Ame explained away the beautiful trees and drizzling rainfall, which only added to her list of uncertainties. They had gone through the trouble of lugging her across a country, only to leave her in a room full of escape opportunities?

Yeah, right.

Aside from the window, two doors lined the room. One, she had already seen Kisame pass through twice with no signs of chakra oddities, indicating that there were probably no wards placed on that, either. And the other, she could only assume led to a bathroom, as the wardrobe tucked away neatly in the corner ruled out the need for a closet. To ease her curiosity, she walked over to peak her head in, and she was not disappointed. A snug looking tub, as well as a shower and all the other necessities were present.

All in all, it looked very homely.

If it had been any other situation, she would've snickered at the irony of it all. Itachi and Kisame, homely. That was one word she would've never in a million years thought to associate with these two men. Or most other shinobi, for that matter. Blowing out another breath of frustration, she flopped over backwards onto the bed.

There was only one conclusion she could draw from this.

Itachi and Kisame definitely knew what she was up to. It explained away the lack of security placed around her room. And she had no one to blame but herself – in the months spent out in the wilderness, she hadn't been all too coy in hiding her intent to weed out the Akatsuki. If they knew that she had been uprooting all the haystacks to find them, the needle, then they also knew she had no plausible reason to want to escape.

Hell, she should just waltz out of here just to teach them not to underestimate her.

But she couldn't, and that was a bluff they knew she would never be able to call. If she did indeed leave, she would only have to return, and she could bet that their current hospitality wasn't a renewable negotiation. Knowing this, Sakura toyed with the idea of giving up her cheerful facade altogether. But this idea was scrapped no sooner than five seconds into the thought process. It was always better to be safe than sorry, after all.

Still, her explanation left the more pressing question of why they had kidnapped her at all unanswered. Sure, her skills as a medic would probably be beneficial to Itachi, considering his eyes; but the quick glance she had taken of his condition indicated it was a lot better than he let on. Plus, kidnapping her was much more difficult than kidnapping another proficient medic, especially one that was less likely to destroy him on sight. All in all, it made less than no sense. Unless they'd be become so desperate as to want to use her as "bait" to lure out Naruto, she could think of no other plausible reason. Even then, it was a crappy plan at best. They should know that Konoha wasn't so easy to trifle with. Even Naruto, brash as his personality let, would know better than to spring headfirst into a trap of this magnitude.

Any other solutions she could conjure up accomplished nothing but calling forth all the goosebumps on her body. For a few fleeting seconds, she considered everything from perverse fetishes to some insane ploy to world domination, and in the end, concluded that the drug they had dosed her with had not worn off completely yet. Blinking sleepily up at the ceiling, she resigned herself to the fact that this was a battle she simply could not win. With her last ounce of effort, she crawled towards the inviting pile of pillows at the top.

Even as her eyes drooped and she fell towards the comforting abyss, the unsettling feeling of an unsolved mystery did not disappear.

"You should really eat."

Sakura blinked up, her eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. Without turning her head, she replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "And since when were kidnappers so kind to their hostages?"

In the darkness, she could barely make out the silhouette of Kisame shrugging. "You're more of an...honoured guest for the time being."

"Funny perception of 'honour' and 'guest' you guys have."

"Kids these days," he grumbled, but the underlying amusement was hard to hide. "Not even a thank you for rescuing you from the little Uchiha's dingy basement."

Better safe than sorry, she reminded herself, but even that couldn't stop the sarcastic comment from slipping out. "Why Hoshigaki-sama, thank you for your unending kindness. You really shouldn't have wasted your energy. Really."

"Brat," he replied, dropping another tray of food down with a loud clatter. "Suit yourself, it's not me who's gonna star-"

The sudden bang resonating from outside stopped him mid-sentence. Sakura assumed it was the front door being shut with no small amount of anger, and apparently, she was correct, as Kisame made a quick retreat to the door, apparently forgetting her existence. His bulky form was already midway out the frame when his next words finally caught up with him.

"Oh yeah. Feel free to move around. Just don't...test your boundaries too much."

"Test my boundaries?"

But he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him once more with a small bang. A scowl twisted its way onto her face at his stupid instructions, aimed at the innocent door. Really, it was a wonder any of the doors in this place were still intact. She had only been here a while, and she had yet to hear a door being shut gently.

She, however, had more pressing issues to ponder at the moment. Like, how much time she had wasted in a drug induced stupor. The bright afternoon light that had been gently filtering through the drapes had been replaced by the bright streams of moonlight now illuminating her room. Kisame had apparently taken the liberty to draw the heavy fabric away from the frame, leaving her with an unrestrained view of the forests outside.

If she wasn't so sure that it was probably a trap, she might've appreciated the way the soft pitter-patter of the droplets splashed against the walls, or the way the branches seemed to sway to a rhythm.

With a loud yawn, she stretched her arms up overhead to relieve herself of any last remnants of sleep. Almost immediately, she flipped lightly off the bed, determined to finally do something. She could hardly remember the last time she had slacked off to this degree, but she blamed it on the temporary mirth of having discovered (or being discovered by) something big. The two day (or however long she'd been happily slumbering for) vacation she had given herself was hereby over. The adrenaline though, wore off rather quickly with the realization that she had no clue where to begin.

Communication, she remembered suddenly. Whatever it took, she would have to find a way to send a message back home. Not only was all their information about Sasuke and his team wrong, the breath they had been able to let loose with Itachi's and Kisame's death had apparently been released too early. But first-

Her stomach growled.

If she'd had an audience, she would've blushed at the hideous noise. But at this point, she'd fully resigned herself to the fact that she would have to eat something, poisoned or not. Any subconscious expectations of what type of food they'd left her trickled down to nothing when the tray full of onigri came into view. Unable to resist the delicious sight after such a long abstinence from any nutrition, Sakura picked one up and plopped it in her mouth. The satisfaction was almost immediate. The genmaicha too, was still warm from when Kisame had left it there. It was uncanny how they knew exactly what she loved most, but somehow wasn't surprised.

Shrugging, her emerald orbs wandered as she drank in the layout of the room once more. Probably an unnecessary move, but she committed every detail to memory – there wasn't much, anyways. Aside from the silk sheets layering the bed, the onyx drapes now tied neatly back, there was only the matching wardrobe and dresser to remember. She wondered briefly how long she would be trapped in this place, but shrugged the thought away – she had known, when Tsunade had first given her the task, that the risk of being captured was one she had to be willing to take. And she had been – only, she imagined neither one of them had this particular type of confinement in mind when they had discussed the mission.

Regardless, she surveyed the door for only a second more before her long fingers made for a silent grab. In the second it took her to pull the door open, she made a quick prayer to Kami despite being as atheist as the next pessimistic shinobi. Desperate times called for desperate actions, and only Kami knew what lay waiting for her on the other side of the wooden door. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding released itself when the dimly lit hallway came into view.

An ambush with mad-grinning Akatsuki members waiting, she could have accepted – at least, that would've been something normal in this completely backwards place. But instead of a bloodthirsty Kisame and possibly even Itachi, the monochrome painting of swaying water lilies greeted her. Dark oak panels lined the walls, and matching them to overall theme of the place, she could only assume it was a cottage of some sorts. Tentatively, she stepped out through the ajar door, all the while remembering Kisame's cryptic words. She half-expected to be fried or something of the sorts, once she stepped out of the "bounds" he hadn't cared enough to elaborate on.

But nothing of the sorts happened, and it was as if the eerie silence was the only thing accompanying her in the cottage. Just when that thought passed through her mind, the spotlights on the opposite end of the hallway sprung to life, illuminating the entire corridor. Apparently, Akatsuki was a very eco-friendly association, as the sudden light was a result of Itachi's footfalls landing on the solid planks. Sakura froze in her spot when his twin Sharingan orbs turned its piercing gaze on her. Instincts told her to look away, but she kept her gaze even.

Either he failed to notice her presence at all or simply didn't care enough, his eyes seemed to look through her before the slightest streak of disinterest flashed across them. And in another second, he vanished completely before her eyes, the trails of his cloak the last evidence of his ever being present. Before her mind could process the increasing bizarreness of the entire situation, Kisame stepped through the same doorway, a look of barely suppressed anger nestled on his features.

He, too, seemed completely oblivious to her presence, disappearing down an opposite hallway mumbling incoherent phrases under his breath. Unlike Itachi, he hadn't even stopped to spare her a side glance.

Sakura waited a minute more before taking a few more tentative steps forward. She had an inkling that whatever they had just argued over, they wouldn't take too kindly to her witnessing it. And Kisame especially, considering his frustration. So far, he had been nothing but good-humoured towards her, but his teasing words were probably about as genuine, if not less, than her own.

Tentatively, she took a few silent steps forward. When no angry Kisame or bloodthirsty Itachi jumped at her, a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding fell from her lips. When she was positive that her path was devoid of murderous criminals, she continued forward, flinching slightly as each new spotlight lit as she passed under. It only took fifteen steps for her to reach the intersection she'd seen the pair materialize at, and she realized quickly that the little crossroad was the center of the cottage.

Nothing lay to her right except the unobtrusive front door, and ahead of her was a hallway identical to the one she had just crossed. It was the two rooms to her right that caught her attention; she could just about make out the distinct silhouettes of kitchen appliances and what she could only assume to be a couch.

As if on cue, her stomach let out a low rumble. Too surprised to be embarrassed, Sakura ducked into the kitchen. The lights, like the ones in the hallway, illuminated of their own accord as her feet stepped within its boundaries. The sparsely furnished kitchen was not lavish or elaborate. In fact, it looked very much like the kitchen a young, recently married couple would share. At this, she let out a small snicker – she figured Itachi and Kisame fit the bill somewhat, if she twisted the facts enough. Unconsciously, her feet led her towards the only thing mounted on the walls: a small, plain calendar, with tiny x's that marked the days that had already passed.

If she remembered correctly, she left Tokuwa the night of the 18th, was locked in Sasuke's basement for about a day...Sakura's emeralds widened considerably when her eyes reached the last day that had a tiny x in the square. Today was July 23rd. Clearly, she had been a 'guest' here for far longer than she had originally thought, unless they were in the habit of randomly crossing out days before they finished. She would've mused the implications of her new discovery for a while longer, if she hadn't felt the sudden spike of Kisame's chakra. His quickly approaching chakra.

Sakura, panicking slightly on the inside, did the only thing that occurred to her at the moment, and attempted to act natural. Kisame barrelled in seconds later, his aura seemingly more calm than before.

"Pinky!" Kisame looked up, surprised at her presence. "You've finally come out of hiding."

Her emeralds roamed over him sceptically. "Yeah, I got hungry."

"No shit. You've been out like a light for days."

This confirmed that the date on the calendar was in fact correct. Unsurprisingly, her hackles rose at the hidden implications beyond the teasing words. "What did you guys give me? That's fucking strong."

Kisame shrugged in reply, walking over to the fridge. Opening the appliance, he replied with little conviction that it was some sedative. Sakura raised an eyebrow at this, leaning against the far wall for support. "You do realize I'm a medic? "Some sedative" wouldn't knock a shinobi out for a good four days."

In one smooth motion, Kisame straightened his spine, glass of water in hand and leg kicking the door shut as an afterthought. "You said it yourself, Pinky. You're the medic, not me. How am I to know what it was?"

"Oh I don't know..." Sakura rolled her eyes, exasperated yet wary. "Perhaps because you were the one that gave it to me? Unless you guys usually give your victims unknown substances."

He let out a slight laugh at this. For his size though, a 'slight' laugh still boomed loudly through the small kitchenette. "Perhaps we do, perhaps we don't. Either way, you'll never really know, will yo-"

Kisame stopped short in his sentence when the cool summer draft suddenly chilled the air around them. Both turned out of instinct to the source, and where there had been an empty hallway before, Itachi now stood, regal looking even at this ungodly hour. Had she blinked, she would have missed the miniscule, sharp nod of his head; but she had seen it, and so had Kisame. While it meant nothing to the cerise haired woman, that tiny motion clearly meant bounds to his partner. Turning back to the other occupant of the kitchen, Kisame flashed her another cheeky smile, but this time, she saw all the unspoken dangers hidden underneath.

"We have a proposition for you, Pinky."

And before the word no could even flash through her mind, Itachi had already materialized in the kitchen, his presence silently looming over theirs. She realized then that whatever they were planning was probably less of a 'proposition' than it was a threat, and 'no' was probably not the right answer to give. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that it was really a one-way road, but it would be a lie to say the seed of curiosity hadn't been planted. For the sake of the mission, she told herself.

When Kisame saw that rejection had lost the inner battle, he dropped himself casually onto the chair and motioned for her to do the same. "Now, where do we begin...?"

As Sakura took in the scene unfolding before her, recognition of the severity of the situation she had gotten herself scrambled in finally set in. As Kisame flashed her another row of razor sharp incisors, and Itachi simply stared on, Sakura knew that whatever this was, it was only the beginning.

AN: I apologize for a few things: late update, shitty chapter, boring chapter, choppy chapter, etc. I tried and tried again to make this chapter more interesting, but I think it's just one of those chapters: absolutely boring, but so absolutely necessary.

A million hearts and kisses and hugs to those who reviewed (and those who didn't but read/fav'd/alerted). It really means the world to me. I tried to reply to most, but I'm pretty scatterbrained, and if yours slipped, you have my gratitude here.