Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto.
Rated M: Due to coarse language, violence, and some adult themes.
Dull pain radiates from her temples, incessant and impossible to ignore, prompting Sakura to stretch her mouth in an enormous, silent yawn that pops her ears. Anything but eager, she counts down from thirty, promising herself to open her eyes when she reaches zero, secretly hoping her mind will fall back into blissful darkness before she reaches it. And by all counts, she very well could as her inner voice trails off somewhere around twenty-three, her brain building up layers of resistance to the encroaching consciousness gnawing at her thoughts. Even with her eyes resolutely clamped shut, she can tell it's nighttime, or at least still dark out as she can't feel the warmth of any light against her face. A gust of cool air blows ceaselessly into her throat and chest, and through her sleep muddled state of mind she struggles to distance herself from it, turning her face to nuzzle directly into the rather solid cushion she'd been resting against.
It's actually rather warm.
It's just as Sakura is pressing herself further into the cushion on her right side, judging it to be rather acceptable for her napping purposes that she flinches, immediately going rigid with the realization of where she is.
Snapping her eyes open, she twists her neck up from the uncomfortable angle she's managed for herself and her expression contorts into something between a grimace and a snarl as she shoves off the lightly dozing man at her side. A bemused scoff comes from her left and through the wan light of the passing street lights outside, she can make out the glint of wine colored eyes and bright red hair belonging to her other least favorite acquaintance.
Whipping her neck to look straight ahead, Sakura squints through her bleary sleep vision to make out the road, white line after white line being gobbled up underneath the hulking SUV she rides in as though in a game of Pacman. To her right, her former sleeping post mumbles something ill-tempered, attempting to stretch out his legs in the confined space as he squirms in his seat to get comfortable before promptly drifting back to sleep. Sakura swallows thickly, wishing she had a drink of water or, better yet, a stick of gum to rid herself of the sour taste lingering in her mouth from her last drink of wine which was…What? Five hours ago?
She stares hard at the clock radio to bring the hazy blue numbers into focus. Making a rough estimate, she guesses that they've been on the road for around three hours. It's just past five in the morning and Sakura is feeling nowhere near ready to face the new day. Not when she's still wearing last night's clothes, swathed in the stench of liquor, fuzzy teethed, and thoroughly chilled from the AC blasting on high. If life came with a re-do button, she'd be smacking it right now…and probably several times for good measure. She would have insisted her and Ino have one of their girls' nights for old time's sake because you never outgrow the need to slather your face in homemade fruit masks and watch corny romantic comedies while stuffing your mouth with extra-buttered popcorn. She would have spent the night at Ino's apartment and completely avoided last night's encounter with the potential-burglar-who-was-actually-Itachi and she certainly wouldn't be buckled in the back seat of a vehicle full of wanted criminals with a bladder that's close to bursting.
All in all, Sakura is close to tears just thinking about it.
I never asked for this. I never asked for this. I never asked for this. I never –
"Kisame," a voice pipes up with the barest hints of grogginess, "How close are we? I have to take a piss."
Funny how his voice could make even that sound entirely smooth and all too seductive.
Surprisingly chipper and alert, Kisame doesn't delay in answering, barking out, "Should only be another fifteen minutes. Can you make it?"
Sasori grunts in assent, turning his face away to look out the darkened window as the first rays of light begin to creep over the horizon. Dimly aware of the impending sunrise, Sakura notes the dense cloud coverage building a formidable barrier for the sun to penetrate.
No wonder it's still so dark outside.
It is at this thought that the first raindrops descend upon the windshield, quickly speckling the glass and forcing Kisame to turn on the wipers, their rhythmic swaying nearly lulling Sakura into a trance in her questionable state of consciousness. Lethargically, having somehow almost forgotten his existence, her eyes sweep to the front passenger seat though she can make out little of the occupant's face. With his head turned toward the window, she is greeted with the view of only his dark raven hair pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck and a pale sliver of cheek.
Does he even sleep?
She can't tell from this angle though she wouldn't be surprised if he's merely feigning the appearance of slumber.
Dreaming of slaughtering the innocent? Creep.
Sakura scrunches her eyes in distaste, her lower lip curling out petulantly as she shoots the back of Itachi's head a nasty glare. Where this acerbity is coming from she can't say. Maybe after a few more hours of sleep and a shower she'll be able to look back on this hateful observation and question it. A small voice in the back of her head murmurs something about a car with the keys locked inside, but she mentally shoos it away, welcoming the wave of sleep lapping against her thoughts.
Almost…
Sakura's head hangs forward limply, in a manner that is sure to leave an unpleasant crick in her neck, but she is too far out of it to care. Sleep is the drug calling her name in an alluring coo, wrapping its wispy fingers around her and pulling her under.
Down.
Down.
Down…
Clunk!
Sakura jerks up, startled, though her reaction is delayed several seconds after the fact. Kisame mutters crossly under his breath as he steers around an even larger pothole, not taking chances. Awake against her will, Sakura notes with some miniscule amount of amusement that Itachi hasn't stirred (much like Deidara), causing her to come to the unfathomable conclusion that the Uchiha actually does need sleep.
How human.
Muffling another outrageously large yawn into her hand, Sakura decides sleep is a lost cause, recalling Kisame's earlier words that they only have about another fifteen minutes to go. Where that'll put her, exactly, she can't say, but as long as it has a bathroom she'll be temporarily relieved.
The voices on an early morning talk show ramble unintelligibly at just enough volume to provide comfortable background noise and Sakura watches the pinks, yellows, and oranges of morning bleed across the sky, highlighting the dreary clouds overhead. If her navigational skills aren't too rusty, she assumes they're heading slightly north of west, and based on the driving time, that would put them roughly around…
Ame.
It's the only major – or rather once major – city she knows of in the area. Further west and much farther north would take them to Iwa, but that would be more than a day's worth of travel.
And it'd be cold.
Not that she's thrilled about going to Ame. She had only visited once during a poster competition she had participated in during her undergrad years and the city hadn't left her with a good impression after her professor had warned her and the other students from her university to stick together and forgo any partying around the local bars. The scenery had been lacking as Ame was once a rather prosperous urban center before jobs were outsourced to cheaper labor forces, allowing the place to gradually decay to an asphalt-covered, littered wasteland of vacant parking lots, boarded up businesses, and angry graffiti. Those left behind in the overhaul of infrastructure had turned ill-tempered and rude to out-of-towners, a trait that seemed to be inherited quite readily by the younger generations. Sakura felt a special sort of pleasure in trouncing the competition from the local Ame college who had given her the stink eye throughout her entire presentation.
In the years leading up to her competition, she'd watched various reports on the evening news about the declining socioeconomic status of Ame, a problem that had led to increased gang violence and drug trafficking among other nefarious activities common under such circumstances. Perhaps one of the most heartbreaking consequences of Ame's declining state was the overburdened foster-care system as adults slipped out of their role as parents and into an alcohol-induced stupor to escape the bleak reality of having no means to provide for a family with empty stomachs.
Later, Sakura would realize the foul-tempered Ame students she encountered probably had good reason for carrying that chip on their shoulders.
This early in the morning, their vehicle is the only one out on the main road leading into the heart of Ame though the loud rev of a motorcycle catches Sakura's attention just in time for her to see a helmetless rider whizz past on his way from the city, his slicked back silver hair exposed to the rain.
Dumbass.
She's seen enough emergency room patients that, had they only taken simple safety measures, would be up and walking on their own two feet.
The rain has turned into a constant, irritating drizzle, nearly fine enough to be considered mist. Oddly enough, Kisame seems at ease driving in the rain, one hand on the wheel as he cruises through the town almost boredly. The buildings are battered and dilapidated, and more than a few have been vandalized as glass shimmers tellingly on the ground beneath the gaping window frames. Gang signs and expletives mar the dingy, pollution-coated brick walls in vibrant paints of blue, green, and red. The only plant life to be spoken of is the weeds sprouting up between dislodged slabs of sidewalk.
Most of these buildings appear to be long-abandoned shops and warehouses, but of the few shack-like houses holding up lopsided yet defiant, forgotten in the shadows of their once loftier neighbors, no sign of recent human occupation remains. Rusted cars are trapped underneath half collapsed car ports, gutted and tireless. Mailboxes have been torn from their posts and bird baths are filled with stomach-churning scum.
Already, Sakura feels defeated and depressed.
Still, it would figure that a gang as infamous as the Akatsuki would make themselves at home in such a dump.
They probably feel as one with the sewer rats and roaches.
Unknowingly, Sakura frowns to herself, a pair of deceptively disinterested eyes watching her face closely. Deidara grunts in his sleep, falling toward Sakura, his shoulder slouching into hers.
Because she's preoccupied with contemplating the best way to rid herself of Deidara's lightly snoring self from her person, she almost misses the strange construction strung up in one of the few scraggly trees along the roadside. At first, her mind puzzles over whether or not someone was playing a joke and hung up some bed sheets to resemble a ghost or, more grotesquely, a person who had hung himself. But as her head swivels to keep eye contact with the abnormal bundle of fabric, she discerns what are meant to be wings fanning out on either side of the body.
An angel.
At least, an attempt at one.
And that's when her eyes begin noticing all the images spray painted over the old, faded graffiti. In blinding, snow white paint, she counts dozens of angels depicted on the crumbling storefronts they pass. On the cracked sidewalks, on the dented stop signs, on the peeling billboards…Everywhere. Angels.
And second only to the curiosity of the angels is the gradual change in surroundings as buildings begin to tower over the SUV on either side, making the sky look far and distant though it still manages to reach them through the rain.
Either she hadn't been close to this part of town during her last visit, or these gleaming, modestly-sized skyscrapers are new.
What in the world…?
It's nothing like the Ame she had grown up hearing about, nothing like what she had seen in the news or even what she had seen with her own eyes. Something has come to Ame and changed it.
The road evens out as though freshly paved and thriving trees and shrubs dot the median. Buildings with windows gleaming in their newness proudly reflect the rising sun and public trash cans are placed at regular intervals so not even a stray wrapper is underfoot. But, the most amazing sight of all is the light morning bustle of shopkeepers opening up and people walking leisurely to their offices or to the bus stop, umbrellas poised high. A bakery on one street corner, though not yet open, is glowing with warm light filtering out onto the sidewalk, and a merry, elderly gentleman wiping down the counters prepares for his daily customers. A team of three men, each in matching gray and blue uniforms, bustle along the street, collecting trash from the receptacles while a street sweeper chugs along at a peaceful, sedate pace.
Nothing is as she remembers it.
Did they get some kind of government funding?
Not a vagabond or stray cat lurks down the narrow back alleys. Fresh laundry hangs from clothes lines crossing from one apartment complex to the next though the frequent rain makes her raise an eyebrow at the logic in that. Sakura can't imagine how this place shaped up in so short of time. Granted, the outer edges of the city's limits still retain the same gloom and neglect she's associated with Ame all her life, but the center is pulsing with life and well-being.
Though she can't summon an answer, Sakura's suspicions nudge at her thoughts. She's fairly certain whatever is responsible for the massive clean-up of the city has something to do with the angels.
They hang from lamp posts and in the doorways of business. Small and large, paper and fabric, they adorn the city in a nearly obsessive fashion.
"Ever been to Ame, kid?"
The question startles Sakura, so entrenched was she in her thoughts, but she quickly surfaces to the present situation and her very questionable company (though she detests being addressed as a kid).
"You have, haven't you? I can tell by your surprise," Sasori beats her to it, "You know this place has changed."
He sounds smug in his assessment. Sakura ignores him, forcing herself to make eye contact with the driver via the rearview mirror.
"Yeah, only once though. Like six years ago."
She pushes gently against Deidara's shoulder with her own though she doesn't know why she bothers to be nice about it, especially when it does her no good.
Now that they're nearly upon the pulse point of the city, they're not the only vehicle out on the road. Several line up behind them as they pause at a traffic light and Sakura still can't summon any coherent words to voice her amazement at the turnaround.
"Ah, then it must have been around the time we just arrived here," Kisame nods to himself, his eyes tracking the pedestrians crossing the street in front of him.
Sakura doesn't understand what that has to do with anything, but she does grab onto a juicy bit of information that will be significant if – no, when – she makes it back to Konoha. A certain police chief she's familiar with will love to know that the Akatsuki have made themselves comfortable within the rather isolated city of Ame. Though she wonders if even Konoha's brass is aware of the city's current rebound from destitution.
"Just push him off you," Sasori commands, annoyed from watching Sakura's weak attempts at extricating herself from his partner's dead weight, "He'll sleep through anything."
But before she can reply or even take his advice, Sasori's arm thrusts out across her front, shoving Deidara back against his side of the seat. She doesn't know whether to thank him or chide him for invading her personal bubble so she settles for raising a questioning eyebrow at his actions.
But his push may have been just a bit too rough as Deidara groans with half-conscious irritation, his hair ruffled and his one visible eye cracking open to the barest degree, searching for the culprit of his wakeful state. Sakura averts her eyes, not wishing to be on the receiving end of any Akatsuki member's direct ire.
"What the hell…" his sleep-filled voice trails off, before he rouses himself to full attention, "Aren't we there yet, yeah?"
Just like a child.
Sakura rolls her eyes though she freezes after doing so, remembering Sasori's watchful gaze.
"I don't want to hear it, Deidara. While you all were catching up on your beauty sleep, I've been driving non-stop through the night. Besides, if you took two seconds to look outside the window, you'd see that we're here," Kisame's gruff voice bites back though, Sakura amends, it may just be the natural quality of his voice that always sounds so dangerous.
Deidara huffs beside her, but he does spare a glance out the window, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the view and confirmation that they are, indeed, in Ame.
"Shitty rain, yeah," he grumbles under his breath, yawning loudly
Curiously enough, Itachi still hasn't so much as shifted in his seat.
Maybe he's dead.
Though, with growing horror, she realizes that might be the worst thing that could happen to her now that she's thoroughly in the clutches of his associates. Itachi, supposedly, doesn't intend to harm her; she may even be allowed to freely return home after all this mess gets sorted out. At least with him she has some kind of understanding, a deal even. With these other guys though…Her eyes flick to each of the other armed and dangerous men she's sharing close quarters with. She has nothing. This could put her in a very sticky situation if her one mutually beneficial connection to the Akatsuki was to suddenly kick the bucket.
Ok, first thing on the priority list is to see to the Uchiha's health and resume treatment.
Ensuring Itachi's health would ensure her own, right?
Sakura inhales deeply, hoping to steady her nerves as she sits at full attention, doing her best to memorize the path to wherever the Akatsuki have established their base. Truthfully, she had been half expecting to end up in some nowhere, backwater part of the country, lost in acres of wild, unclaimed nature that no one knows about or has long since forgotten. Instead, Kisame delivers them to the front door of a rather upscale building. Though similar to the other office-like buildings they'd passed in the gray brick it's formed from, it is by far the tallest structure in the city, dwarfing the others by at least twenty stories. If size alone hadn't been enough to set it apart and awe the odd spectator, the ornamentation would certainly do the trick. The uniform rows of windows are broken up about fifty stories up as a large face seems to be forcing its way out from under the concrete, much like a sheet draped over a face trying to break free and breathe in sweet, sustaining air. As Sakura follows the lead of the Akatsuki on either side of her and unclips her seatbelt, she gawks at the imposing structure as she clambers her way out of the car. This close to the base of the tower, she doesn't have a good angle to appreciate all the details (especially at such a height), but standing in front of the glass entrance, she's positioned beneath an odd protrusion – a tongue!
Of all things…
As Kisame steps out, procuring a metal box from underneath his seat, Sakura is still left gaping as she takes in the bizarre sculpture high above her.
"Peculiar art, isn't it?"
Sakura hums her agreement before doing a double take at the man who has silently joined her.
When did he get here?
Some childish hope that Itachi would simply be left alone to sleep in the car is completely squashed as she mentally forces herself to relax her shoulders and restrain some of the hostility she feels seeping into her features. Deidara stretches his arms over his head, moaning with relief as he twists his back, a series of crackles trailing down his spine loud enough for all to hear. Sasori visibly grimaces at his partner's antics, tiredly slinging his jacket over his shoulder as he heads for the sliding glass doors, Kisame close on his heels as he points the clicker over his shoulder to lock the car.
"I'm hitting the sack. Sasori, you can handle the initial report, right?" Kisame ends on a loud yawn, stepping onto the rubber mat just outside the entrance, setting off the sensor that parts the glass doors, sending an air-conditioned gust out into the humid morning air.
Sasori huffs tiredly, clearly not pleased with the task passed on to him but nevertheless agrees, "Yeah, I'll order breakfast as well. Be down in the dining room by 9:00 if you plan on having any."
Kisame nods curtly, slapping his palm down on a round tablet-like fixture jutting out on a platform from the wall. Sakura quickly surmises it must be some sort of digital scanner to identify the Akatsuki members, only granting them entrance into the building. A second later, another set of glass doors opens for them to enter the headquarters.
And with that, the redhead saunters through the parted doors, cutting a quick path to the left that takes him out of Sakura's view. Deidara trails after him, nearly asleep on his feet, though he spares Sakura a short, inquisitive glance over his shoulder before hastening his strides to catch up to his temperamental partner. Kisame doesn't bother to speak but throws up a hand in parting to the two left standing in the entrance, climbing the grand, central staircase at a steady pace to meet his comfortably large bed and a calming cup of sake.
Left alone in the nearly deserted reception-like area of the Akatsuki tower, Sakura inwardly bemoans the fact that she hasn't a clue as to what comes next. But, surprisingly, the insufferable man beside her saves her from forming any sort of question as he chooses to speak first.
"I suppose I can find a room for you."
Sakura gives him an odd look, though she supposes the effect is probably ruined by the dark circles that surely must be present under her eyes and the stiff turn of her neck from sleeping so awkwardly during the ride here. He makes the offer so hesitantly that Sakura can't decipher if it's reluctance over lifting a finger to accommodate her in such a manner, or if he's truly uncertain as to how to go about doing it.
Please, don't strain yourself on my account, Uchiha.
She inwardly rolls her eyes at the ridiculous thought.
With some kind of internal dilemma being solved, Itachi nods as if to himself before abruptly turning, his course set now that a decision has been made. Sakura sighs silently to herself, resigned to her fate as she trails after his receding back with all the enthusiasm of someone walking to the gallows. Itachi leads her to the corridor off to the right on the ground floor, in the opposite direction Sasori and Deidara headed. To her surprise, most of the hallway is lined with spacious, normal looking offices with glass fronts, the blind slats open to allow her a view of the inner contents. Inside she glimpses flashes of impressively expensive desks and cushioned chairs, potted plants pushed away into the corners for decoration, bookcases filled to capacity, stiff lounge couches, and the latest tech all nicely organized and ready for the day's business dealings. A few doors are shut however, with no windows to offer a glance into the type of dealings that goes on behind their heavy, oaken faces. But Itachi glides by all of this without pause, his sights set on the small, modest elevator at the end of the passage.
Like Kisame had previously, he touches his hand print against a square face inlaid in the wall to the side of the elevator, the digital screen humming to life as it scans him in search of a match filed away within its database. The doors open without a sound and for the hundredth time in less than twenty-four hours, Sakura finds herself in too small of a confined space with the notorious Uchiha terrorist. Wearily, she stands beside him as the elevator gently rises skyward, her eyes firmly on the control panel whose buttons denote each floor, a light flickering through each one as they progress upward.
Funny how it contrasts with the sinking feeling in her stomach.
She ponders over whether she should bring up continuing his treatment now, but the opportunity is lost as their short ride comes to an end and the elevator doors slide open to deposit them on what she checks to be the tenth floor.
What in the world could they be using the rest of this place for?
They hadn't even gone up a fifth of this tower's height. Itachi walks briskly into the open hallway which Sakura has a clear view to the very end of where a small square of light offers the gray bricked wall of a neighboring tower for scenery. Her foot steps are muffled by the plush maroon carpet. This floor looks every bit like a hotel from the numbered plates nailed outside each door, to the card access entry, and the tastefully neutral wallpaper of charcoal stripes that, to the unfocused eye, seem to mimic a gloomy, overcast downpour. Itachi seemingly chooses a door at random, selecting one not too far from the elevator, and turns down the handle to swing the door inward.
"This should suffice temporarily," he states succinctly, ever the blunt and straight-to-the-point conversationalist.
Sakura bites her bottom lip, stepping past him uncertainly into the room with its unexpectedly average commodities.
Yep, definitely like a hotel room.
Though admittedly a rather nice one, the kind that she could now almost afford to splurge on with her grown-up salary. Of course, in her current state the most important fixture would be the bathroom which she catches a glimpse of off to the side with its granite vanity and wall length mirror.
"Sooo," Sakura stalls, "Um, what exactly am I supposed to do?"
"Rest. Wash up if you like. We'll have to deal with any supplies you may need later today. I have other matters I need to attend to, but I'll return to show you the way to the dining hall for breakfast. For the time being, please remain in the room. Someone will be sent to code the lock on your door and provide you with card access."
Sakura nods along, only half listening as her sore, booted feet carry her to the bedroom where not one, but two queen-sized beds are made up and waiting for her approval. She plops down on the edge of the nearest one, swiftly moving to free her feet and let them breathe, not caring about the way Itachi studies her every action. She's already decided on passing out as soon as he leaves.
Hurry up, damn it! I have to pee!
She yawns for effect though truly it isn't so forced, and Itachi takes a step back, preparing to leave.
"Remember, nine o' clock. Don't be alarmed if someone knocks on the door."
Sakura grunts in assent, hazy eyes half closed as she runs a hand through her hair, her fingers catching on a knot near the ends.
Ugh. Do I have the energy for a shower?
The door closes with a soft click behind Itachi and Sakura, with a surprising spring to her step, launches herself into the bathroom, purposely choosing to ignore her reflection as she passes by it, not wanting to know exactly how ragged she looks. With a content, emptied bladder, she contemplates for a moment on whether a shower is in order and begrudgingly sniffs at herself. Stale alcohol is inhaled up her nostrils and she reluctantly peels off her clothes to step into the shower stall, pleased to find an assortment of travel size soaps and shampoos nestled in an alcove in the wall. She spends just enough time cleansing her skin of the spilled spirits to create a layer of steam on the mirror, climbing out of the stall to happily find a terry cloth, black robe hanging from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. Raking her fingers through her hair, she decides she's put in an acceptable amount of effort to warrant the reward of sleep so she tumbles back into bed, scooting up to rest her damp head on the pillows, not even bothering to turn down the comforter.
As she feels the pull of unconsciousness, she half-heartedly wonders if Itachi's business he has to intend to is anything like what she's doing now. Then again, she knows she's heard from somewhere before that there's no rest for the wicked.
Author's Note: Well, I ended up updating this rather than getting started on the idea I have planned as a sequel to The First Snow. In actuality, I haven't put any of my ideas down on paper yet for that one, so I guess I'll keep chugging away at this story until I do! Not a whole lot of action in this chapter, but I thought it would be kind of nice to flesh out some of the influence Akatsuki has had on Ame to create a nice little parallel between this story and canon. With that being said, at the moment, I don't have the rest of the Akatsuki playing a huge role in this story (in the sense that there probably won't be a whole lot of interaction between them and Sakura) so I wouldn't expect any big scenes with the leader or anyone else. Sasori, Deidara, and possibly Kisame will make appearances here and there, but I'm trying to focus mostly on just Itachi and Sakura, as well as the corruption in Konoha and wherever the heck Sasuke has run off to. Though I am curious to know if anyone caught Hidan's brief appearance in the chapter.
You reviewers are lovely!
Thanks for reading.