Getting in had been easy. None of the guards questioned him when Sasori led a young lady by her satin-gloved hand into the gates. Outside of his hideous puppet, Hiruko, the puppeteer looked nobler than many of the highborns of Hot Water. With his looks and Shiori's ability to talk her way into the inner circle, the duo managed to get near the surprisingly-attractive Jiro Moto within an hour.
Gathering intel had been easier. If there was one thing Jiro craved above all else it was attention. He wanted all eyes on him. And Shiori knew just how to stand out. Rather than wait in the queue of a dozen odd girls for her turn at kissing the spiky-haired troublemaker, she hopped on a nearby table and began feeding Sasori with grapes.
"The queue is that way and I'm not hungry," Sasori chirped, not wanting to break the "rabid lovers" act. He had pursed his lips together when she offered him another piece. In reply, Shiori laughed like he had just told her the funniest joke of all time and fumbled with a tuft of hair on the nape of his neck.
"My way is faster," she whispered. "So. Play. Along." She paused in between forcing the juicy fruit in his mouth, ending the flirty act by licking her gloved fingers one by one.
A sideway glance from the two of them was all they needed to do to confirm that the plan had worked. Jiro, perhaps threatened by the competition he saw in Sasori, pushed himself off his cushioned seat and brushed off the women who were draped over him. He sauntered over to the pair.
"Good to know you're enjoying yourself," he said to Sasori before tugging at the sleeve of Shiori's yukata. "But I paid for you. You owe me a good time too, don't you sweetheart?"
Without another word and without even bothering to move away from Sasori, Jiro proceeded to smash his lips against Shiori's, kissing her torridly right then and there. By the time he let her go, her head was spinning from the lack of oxygen and from all the information she had gathered about him. Her entire head and neck hurt. She had paid for the nearly effortless acquisition of intel with an angry-looking bruise on the front of her neck. She thought bitterly that Deidara would never let her live with it without at least a few weeks' worth of teasing.
It was during their planned time of exit when things went sour. Sasori, in an attempt to keep his disguise, was dragged on one corner of the mansion. Shiori was herded into a room on the third floor along with the other girls from the brothel. Though the plan had been to stay in place if the redheaded shinobi wasn't around, seeing the other women in various states of undress clued her in on what was to come. She excused herself for a toilet break to avoid the pending orgy.
"Where on earth are those stairs?" Shiori mumbled to herself, taking every right turn that she could. The mansion of the Motos was a vast stone building with dozens of rooms. Outside of the areas which were used to hold guests, it also housed a complex labyrinth of hallways. It vaguely reminded her of the headquarters on the outskirts of Yugakure, the place she had mostly stayed in for the past couple of months. And though the thought of returning there filled her with dread, she realized that she would rather get lost in that place rather than the maze she was stuck in at that very moment. At least there, she knew what kind of monsters were lurking in the shadows.
A deep husky voice pulled her out of her musings.
"Going somewhere?"
Shiori stopped on her tracks and turned to her right. The door beside her was wide open and it led to a massive library. Its walls were covered with bookshelves from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. And right by the door, toying with a waist-high globe and motioning at her to come closer was none other than Jiro Moto. His cobalt blue eyes never left her as she timidly entered into the room.
"Jiro-sama," she greeted with a small bow. "What a surprise."
With a feline grace as beautiful and as troublesome as a certain Uchiha, Jiro sauntered over to her and whispered close to her ear. "I could say the same thing to you." He smiled slyly and walked towards the door, closing it with a loud click. Shiori's pulse sped up, remembering the words of warning given to her by the same troublesome Uchiha she was thinking about just moments ago.
Don't be caught in a room with him alone.
"Everyone's waiting for you next door, Jiro sama. Shall we go?" she suggested, gently pulling at the sleeve of his yukata.
Shiori let out a small squeak when he grabbed her arm. Jiro pushed her backwards until she felt her backside hit the edge of a study table.
"I don't think I've seen you before," he drawled. Her tilted her chin upwards, forcing her to meet his icy gaze. The contact clued her in on what he had done to some of the women merely hours ago. The hair on her arms stood on end with she realized that she was trapped in a room with a maniac.
"That's because I'm new. I recently moved here from Shimo. My patron, Hiruko, asked if I could keep him company for this party. I'm assuming you remember him?" By now she was so scared that forcing her lips into a smile was painful.
"Should I?" he raised his eyebrow, clearly irritated.
Shiori stalled by doing what she did best. She talked. "Well, Hiruko-san told me he has been to a few of your parties before. I've heard many wonderful things of such events-"
"I guess he doesn't matter as much as he lets you think. But you, young lady, matters very much this very moment."
She froze in terror when Jiro lifted her by her bum and dropped her on the study table. He pushed against her so that both of their upper bodies were lying on its wooden surface. His left hand crept up to her thigh.
"I've always wondered how you easterners are like all hot and bothered."
As Jiro dove down to ravage her neck, Shiori found herself in limbo. She struggled to get a grip on reality while she drowned in his memories. Her mind saw the inside of his head while her watery eyes only saw the lattice window on her left. She pushed herself to move. If Deidara couldn't see her in time then Jiro was sure to have his way with her. And that was never part of the darn plan.
Despite the well-muscled man hovering above her, she shimmied to her left inch-by-inch, desperate to lift at least a limb by the window. She was praying their watcher was actually watching. She growled inwardly when he exposed both of her legs to the cool evening air.
"No-!"
Both of them froze when the door burst open, Jiro from being startled, Shiori from the relief of having his memories taken away from her.
"There you are, Jiro-sama!" A woman exclaimed. Shiori sat up to get a better look at her and recognized her as one of the prostitutes from the brothel. Her blonde hair had become undone and fell on loose curls down her back. Her satin robe shone against the moonlight. Upon seeing their positions on the table, she came over to them and made a disapproving sound.
"Tsk. This whole time we've been waiting for you and you're here fornicating with this social-climbing outsider. That's just rude."
Jiro's nostrils flared. He pushed himself away from Shiori and stomped his way towards the woman.
"Don't forget who you're talking to, stupid who-"
Shiori screamed as the blonde buried a knife into Jiro Moto's belly. With a manical grin, she pulled the weapon out of his gut and stabbed him repeatedly until the front of her robes grew dark with blood.
There was the heavy thud of the thug's body hitting the floor and then there was deafening silence. Shiori and the woman stared at each other for the longest time. It was the latter who broke the spell with an annoyed sigh.
"Did this spoiled bastard really think he can waltz in to Ishi, take something that isn't his, and get away with it? Was he really that stupid? By the way thanks for your help. You made my task a lot less complicated. Really, I did not want to fuck the guy."
It was when she pulled down one of her sleeves to wipe the blood off her knife that Shiori noticed it, wrapped around her forearm and glinting against the moon's faint glow. A hitai-ate. The woman was a kunoichi.
If you think you're in danger, you run. Fast.
Her hand was already at the door frame when the kunoichi kicked the door shut. The eighteen-year old screamed as pain shot up from her crushed fingers. She kicked helplessly as the stronger woman dragged her by the collar of her yukata.
"Please don't hurt me!" she cried. "I won't say anything I swear. Please!"
The kunoichi's grip shifted from her yukata to her hair, forcefully pulling her head back to expose her neck.
"Sorry imouto-chan. But in these lands, a whore's promise holds as much value as dirt."
Shiori gasped in fear as she watched her raise the knife over her head.
'Not today,' she thought. 'Not like this.'
Remembering Itachi's words from a few days ago, she grabbed on to one of her hairsticks and buried it into her attacker's wrist. There was a sickening crunch as the sharp metal dug through skin, muscles and bones. The kunoichi didn't even cry out in pain. She flicked her knife against a wall, picked Shiori up with her uninjured hand and flung the younger girl against the window, breaking the pane off the window sill. Gray eyes grew round as she watched the wooden and glass parts shatter from the fifty-foot drop. A shiver ran down her back as the female nin spoke in a low voice.
"Shame. I wanted it to be quick for you. Guess we'll all get to see how pretty you remain after they scrape you off the ground."
There was a sharp shove on her shoulders. She felt herself flip over and in a blink of an eye, she was airborne. She was too stunned to scream. All she could think of was the ground that was coming to meet her at a very lethal speed.
"Gotcha!"
Someone grabbed her from midair and they both landed safely on a patch of dewy grass hidden behind a large bush.
"Stand up!" Deidara's voice echoed in her head. Her legs were too weak to obey and the rest of her fell on the ground in a quivering heap. The best she could do was cradle her right hand as its fingers started to throb and turn blue.
Deidara stepped in front of her. His gaze shifted back and forth between Shiori and the window.
"What the...did that chick just throw you out of the window? Shio-chan?" he asked wearily, noting the green hue of her face.
She replied by throwing up in front of him. Deidara stared at the puddle of sick by his feet.
"Pathetic and disgusting, hn."
They heard the back door burst open. Sasori rounded the corner and appeared in front of them. Behind him, they could hear the terrified screams of Jiro's guests. Someone had found his body.
"I thought you said no killing!" Deidara exclaimed as he got up to his feet.
"It wasn't me," Sasori replied walking over to his team. "Suna nins have taken matters into their own hands. Mask your chakra, Deidara. They have a sensor type with them. We need to get out of here before they see us."
"You think any of them recognized you?" Deidara asked the former Sunagakure shinobi as he helped Shiori to her feet.
"I'm not sticking around to find out."
Even without using their chakra, Sasori and Deidara were fast runners. Shiori struggled to keep up with them. She suspected the two were slowing down for her. They could very much leave her behind if they wanted to.
Sasori only deemed it safe to stop once they were inside the forest situated a few kilometers away from the Mori mansion. Deidara held on to a tree as he caught his breath. Shiori was doubled over, gasping.
"I still don't get it. Why does Suna have beef with Jiro, Hn?"
"It's a long story," Sasori replied. "Turns out the dagger once belonged to Sunagakure. Reto, the First Kazekage, gave it as a gift to one of his loyal shinobi guardians. Generations later, the descendants of that guardian revolted against Suna and joined the misfits which now formed Ishigakure. Seeing as Suna is so eager to have it back, it must be worth more than we were led to think."
"Do you think we ought to ask Kakuzu for a raise?" Deidara joked.
Shiori straightened up, a retort at the ready, when she noticed Sasori and Deidara stiffened visibly. The two jumped up to a nearby tree leaving her on the ground by herself as a strong gust of wind from behind her forced her to stagger forward. Its force was so strong it undid the tight bun of her hairdo.
When she looked up, a blade had appeared half-buried into the trunk of the tree in front of her. It glowed brightly in the evening, as though the blade itself was encased in another blade made by the glowing entity.
Shiori noticed something trickle down her legs. When she looked down on her yukata, she could see a splash of dark red blossoming from the middle of her abdomen. It drowned the pastels of her dress. She put her hand over it, wincing at its warmth, but the pressure did nothing to stop it from getting bigger. It continued to spread all the way up to her chest and that was when she smelled it. It was blood, her own blood pouring out of her. She looked up again at the blade on the tree and realization hit her like a fist to the jaw.
The blade had gone through her.
She wanted to call out to Sasori and Deidara, to scream for help. When she opened her mouth, only wet, gurgling sounds escaped from her. She gagged at the metallic taste on her tongue and felt warm liquid dribbling out of her lips. One step forward caused her to go lightheaded. All of her strength seemed to have leaked out of her. She didn't remember passing out and only realized this when the sound of a bomb going off startled her awake. When she pried her eyes open, she could see Deidara looking down at her. His words sounded echoey and garbled, like he was speaking at the other end of a large room.
"What?"
"If you sleep, you die!" he screamed amidst the roar of a fire jutsu. Before she could ask him what he meant, he lifted two fingers in front of his eyes and shouted.
"Katsu!"
Many kilometers away in a quiet dining room, two men were enjoying their evening tea when a loud rumble caused them to pause. That rumble was quickly followed by a tremor big enough to cause their teacups to rattle.
Itachi looked outside the window, the tomoe in his eyes standing out against his red irises.
Kisame held on to his cup to stop his drink from spilling.
"Tell me if I'm wrong but that sounded a lot like Deidara to me."
"It was," Itachi replied curtly. With the help of the Sharingan, he could see the bomber's Earth nature chakra signature in the particles hovering in the air outside. It no longer came as a surprise to him when his mind zeroed in on one particular person. His stomach churned uncomfortably.
"Tsk. That can't be good," Kisame murmured. "You think Shio-can survived that? It would be a pain to have to get another ward."
Itachi didn't reply to that, though silently, he was asking the same question himself.
He had a feeling they didn't have to wait for too long to find out.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Honestly I was hesitant to post this chapter for the most shallow of reasons: Not much Itachi. Itachi is elusive enough as he is and even when he is in a lot of a chapter, he often fades in the background in comparison to the louder characters (ie Kisame, Deidara, Shiori). And it's the 9th chapter so I was thinking he should at least play a moderate-sized role in this. Still, I have no idea how to tell the story properly without this chapter so I begrudgingly posted it. Hope you like it. Lemme know your thoughts. It would be awesome if you review. See ya.
