title Raise a glass
summary When we can't take back what's been done.
"I need 50,000," Sakura declared.
Tobirama paused, cigarette almost in his mouth. He lifted one foot onto the chair, the other resting flat on the concrete. And then he kissed the cigarette. Inhaling deeply, eyes locking with hers. Exhaling.
"You don't have $50,000?" he asked. His eyes roved over her. Bare body tangled in the white sheets. She rested her chin in her hand. The phoenix on her arm flexing and rippling with the muscles underneath. The red garish against her skin.
"I didn't say that," she replied. Tobirama took another drag. His tongue circling the end of the cigarette. He exhaled to the side- watched the wind whisk his breath away. And then he faced forward again. Watched her through the open balcony door.
"Then what for?" he challenged. Something lurked in that expression. That smile, eyes gentle and mouth soft.
"Consider it an investment. You'll be happy that you did," insisted Sakura, rolling onto her back and stretching her arms over her head. His eyes narrowed.
"I give you 50,000 and you'll make it multiply? Just like that?" he probed. He flicked the cigarette over the edge of the balcony. With a sigh, he got to his feet. Stepped back into the apartment. The door slid shut behind him. His shadow fell across her legs as he stood next to the bed. She stared up at him, her head tilting back, neck stretching.
"Tobirama," she said, sounding hurt, "It's like you don't know me. I'm good at a lot of things. But there are exactly two things that I'm very good at…and one of those things is making money."
Tobirama raised his eyebrows but didn't try to deny it. The last time he had loaned her a couple of men, she
had blown up a warehouse- along with one of his vans. She had replaced it, of course, with an identical van filled to bursting with neatly-rolled stacks of money. That was just the kind of person she had always been.
"What's the other thing?" he asked. He stepped closer, shadow pooling across her thighs. His leg brushed against her foot. He took a step closer. His shadow moved to engulf her. He rested his knee on the bed.
"I wonder," answered Sakura. Before she could roll away, his arms caged her in. His face hovered over hers. A lazy smirk spread across his lips. His eyelashes brushed against hers.
"No. Explain it for me, Jing-Mei," he insisted. The smell of ash clung to his every breath. Sakura glanced down and then back up at his face.
"Well, it seems like part of you gets it, at least," Sakura observed. She laid still when he bent his head to bite the side of her neck. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough that when he pulled back, the white indentations of his teeth lingered. Faded more and more with each quickening heartbeat.
She smiled, eyes beckoning him in. But then he thought of something that made him stop. She froze too.
"Wait. Don't tell me this 'investment' involves me losing my limbs later," he accused. Sakura stuck her lower lip out.
"Not any of the ones you like, anyway," she answered. Tobirama glared.
"I like all my limbs, Jing-Mei."
"Then I guess you'll be fine," Sakura declared. Putting on a coy smile, she trailed her finger down his chest, down his stomach. And just when he thought she would touch him, she sat back, expression smug. His hands traced down her thighs instead. The sounds of her dragging, trembling breaths filled his ears. Echoing against the insides of his emptying skull.
Tobirama's eyes flew open. He pressed his palm to his temple, squinting up at the ceiling. The inside of his mouth felt dry. Hashirama leaned over him, a bamboo skewer hanging out of his mouth.
"It's rare for you to sleep so soundly. Did you have a good dream?" asked the Dragon Head. He walked away. Tobirama draped his arm over his face. He watched the fan turn in lazy circles above.
"…Maybe?" Tobirama replied, trying to sort through the scrambled images and sounds. He knew who he had dreamt about. But for some odd reason, he couldn't remember how he had felt. He sat up. The sofa in the back of the karaoke bar wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but it worked. Hashirama returned, a fresh skewer in his hand. Tobirama squinted at the yellow balls impaled on it.
"What are you eating?" he demanded.
"Siu mai. You want one? They're pork," answered Hashirama, dunking the dumpling into soy sauce in a clear plastic cup. Tobirama made a face. He stood and made his way to the tiny bathroom. He washed his face and neck with cold water. Hands gripping the edges of the grimy sink, he stared at the water swirling down the drain. He caught Hashirama's reflection crossing the room.
There was a rectangular window that stared down at the club's main dance floor. The floor tiles lit up in garish colors in time to the music. The security monitors on the other side of the room showed the private karaoke rooms. Hashirama stood at the window, his hands crossed behind his back.
"This place seemed more fun when we were younger," remarked Hashirama. Tobirama wiped his face on his sleeve. He pushed off the sink and went to join his older brother. His palm dragged across the silver stubble on his jaw before he leaned against the window.
"It wasn't," Tobirama stated. Hashirama sighed.
"Maybe."
Sakura's phone rang at precisely 9 am. Her fingers stilled on the keyboard. The notification popped up in the right corner of her screen. Although, even without it, she could have guessed who it was. He called around the same time each day. And this, he told her, was just because-
"I wanted to hear your voice."
Sakura picked her phone off the counter and raised it to her ear.
"Wei," she said.
"Good morning," Itachi greeted her.
"Good morning," she sighed in return. Because she knew he would keep saying it until she did too. She used her left hand to type in a few more words and numbers.
"Did you have breakfast?" asked Itachi. Sakura glanced at the cooling bowl that she had pushed aside earlier. She had picked out the fried peanuts and Chinese cruller out, leaving most of the rice.
"I had some congee and coffee," she answered. He waited until she told more of the truth. "And there was maybe some amaretto in the coffee." He chuckled.
"Even when you're being bad, it's with class, Sakura," he commented. The admiration in his voice was nothing new. But Sakura caught herself smiling anyway. She banished the expression. Resumed scrolling through the file. Once it looked good, she sent it back to Charlie. She closed the laptop.
"Ah, now I have your full attention," Itachi said with relief. She frowned.
"How did you-"
"Relax. I didn't bug your apartment. I could hear you typing," he interrupted her before she could even voice her full suspicion.
"I'd kill you," she threatened, voice suddenly filled with ice.
"Probably," he agreed.
That took her by surprise. "What are you even trying to achieve by calling me like this?" she queried.
"I told you. I like hearing your voice, Jing-Mei," he replied. She let out another long sigh. And then he went so quiet that she wondered if the call had dropped. But then she heard a lighter flick.
"Do you…by any chance… not like that name?" asked Itachi.
Sakura considered this. Her eyes closed. She heard Itachi exhale deep and soft from the other end of the line. She could imagine the smell of his smokes. The way the haze rose from his mouth, framing his nose and brow for an instant.
"I…don't know," she said. And he chuckled.
"You don't know if you don't like your name?" he asked. Her eyes opened. For an instant, she felt like he was sitting next to her. Hand on his chin, gaze searching her. Like she was some kind of new map to explore.
It unsettled her.
"No. I don't know what it is. But when you say it… " Sakura hesitated. Her words pooled on the tip of her tongue, half-formed and half-coherent. She touched her fingers to her lips. Rubbed her knuckles along her drooping eyelids as she tried to gather the right ideas. An unbearable sadness gathered in her stomach.
"It's nothing," she sighed, suddenly exhausted. There was a long pause. She heard him exhale too. Could almost smell the smoke if she tried hard enough.
"Ji- Sakura, I won't understand you if you don't explain, you know," Itachi said, his voice even and soft. Sakura bent her head, running her free hand through her hair. Scratching against the scalp.
"Then don't understand me," she snapped. Her forehead rested against the counter. She pulled her left arm over her face. It was silent on the other end of the line.
"I'm hanging up," declared Sakura. She half-suspected that he had hung up already.
But he replied. "Okay. I'll call you again tomorrow."
She ended the call. And stayed that way, arm over her face, eyes squeezed shut. Gut writhing like a pit filled with snakes. When the phone rang again, she grabbed it too quickly. It wasn't him again.
"Wei," she said.
"I found Ghost, Aunt Cheng. He's in Kobe," Chojuro said right away. Sakura bolted upright. She leaned forward, as if that would help her hear better.
"Kobe?" she repeated. "Are you sure it's the right guy? The one who was smuggling girls out of Tsim Sha Tsui and into Manila a few years back?"
"Yeah, Boss. Word is that he's been trying to get back into business with the Russians. I think I figured out where he's been hiding out too," he reported. Sakura smiled.
"Charlie Lau," she sighed, shaking her head, "You're a gift."
"What should I do, Boss?" Charlie asked. Sakura got up.
"I'll be in Tokyo in two days. We'll go then. Don't call Chouji. I'm bringing Zabuza," she directed, then hung up. She pulled her blazer on, then her heels. She was out on the foggy streets of Hong Kong, phone glued to her ear. Zabuza pulled up in front of her apartment a few minutes later. As she got into the car, she noticed his crooked collar and messy hair. Which was odd, because she'd never seen it out of a perfect quiff. Waxed and combed into submission.
"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt a date?" she queried. Zabuza glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
"Where to, Boss?" asked Zabuza, ignoring her teasing. Sakura crossed her arms over her chest.
"Sai Wan, near Mount Davis. I'll give you directions as we get closer," she instructed. Zabuza looked at her again. The reflection of his eyes wavered.
"You're going to talk to Kabuto?" he guessed. Sakura smiled.
"Maybe," she replied. Zabuza shook his head as he shifted the gears and pulled off the curb.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Boss," he muttered.
"I haven't gotten either of us killed yet," she reminded him, smile in place.
The Red Arrow gang had set up an auto shop in one of the seedier parts of Sai Wan in the north-western corner of the island. After the HKPD had discovered and raided several of Kabuto's fronts, he had been forced to move further west. Sakura continued to defend herself whenever this came up; Kabuto had been trying to take over her bus routes in the first place. And she hadn't meant to expose his businesses. Besides, what kind of idiot ran a cockfighting ring in such a visible location?
Only Tenten was a true witness to that debacle. And only she knew that Sakura had intentionally steered into the building rather than away. They hid their smiles whenever the affair came up.
"It will serve as a good lesson about discretion," Sakura pointed out to Hashirama. Smiling sweetly as Kabuto ground his teeth at her.
Out of 24k gangs, the Red Arrow boys were the least profitable and the least respected. When Orochimaru had been around, the Jade Gang had supported the scrawny Red Arrows with money and men. But Sakura had made it no secret that she couldn't stand Kabuto. Orochimaru had always laughed at that. In the end, maybe he hadn't cared so much either.
After Mad Dog Kakashi's supposed death, the Mid-Levels should have been hers. After all, the Jade Gang had the best public image and some ties to the politicians in the city. In turn, the affluent residents of the Mid-Levels didn't really seem to mind the Jade Gang's presence near their homes. Once businesses and residents achieved a certain level of success, she sent someone over to persuade them to pay a reasonable monthly fee. In exchange, they would be under their protection. She never raised fees without warning and never went back on her word. She also kept dealers and hoodlums out of the territory.
"Does a cat sleep in its own shit in the litter box?" she always said when asked why.
A few years ago, on the day of Mad Dog's funeral, one Red Pole was absent. Kabuto had lead his boys into the Mid-Levels to begin shaking down residents and making his mark. A few civilians had even called Sakura during the funeral, gunfire and screams echoing behind them. The incense was still burning in front of Mad Dog's portrait. Wavering against that crooked smile and squinting eyes.
"Uncle," Sakura said, turning to Hashirama. The shrieks and explosions still blared through the speaker of her phone. She ended the call. Hashirama answered with a stony face, his lips tight. And beside him, Tobirama's face was grim too.
"You can't let this go, Uncle. Mad Dog may have been a fool, but he was our brother," Sakura reminded him. His hands trembled with rage. He raised one, touching his temple, the other slipping into his pocket. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, shaking breath.
"Go," he whispered. Sakura nodded. And then she lingered, eyes tracing over the empty coffin. Hashirama opened his eyes when he realized that she was still there.
Sakura bent her head and kissed the top of the coffin. Her burgundy lipstick lingering on the shining wood. And then she strode off, black heels tapping against the stone. She ripped her coat off as she walked. Tenten and Sai hurried to catch up to her. Sai took her coat. They saw Zabuza sprinting across the cemetery ahead of them to bring the car around.
Sakura reached under her dress, pulling her gold Desert Eagle out. She held it in her right hand, checking over its parts to make sure that it would fire smoothly.
"Call the boys. We're going to need some firepower. But don't let anyone kill him. I want him in front of the Dragon Head," Sakura ordered.
It was a bloody couple of months. But the residents of the Mid-Levels sighed with relief when the Jade Gang prevailed. The Jade Gang lost a few men, but in the end, they were able to deliver what Sakura had asked for.
Kabuto, before the Chairman in an old warehouse, blood caked on his split lip. Squinting down at the floor out the eye that hadn't swelled shut.
It wasn't so much the mess that had upset Hashirama. Although, the Dragon Head wasn't a fan of being in the news. It made it harder for everyone when the police was on high alert. It was skipping the funeral that had ignited his rage. Failing to respect the memory of a fallen brother. This Dragon Head valued loyalty and honor above all else.
"As promised, Uncle," Sakura said, pushing Kabuto onto his knees. She dealt him an extra kick between the shoulders for good measure. And then she looked up at Hashirama. He was like a statue, barely even breathing. The stillness terrified her.
Sometimes she forgot, when he was in his nice shirts and pressed pants, that she had once watched him beat a rich man to death with his own golf clubs. Still, when Hashirama motioned for her to step closer, she obeyed. Tried to hide her trembling hand against her side.
Hashirama stood, holding his hand out to her. She grasped it. The cold eyes that stared at her shaking wrist told her nothing. He stayed that way for a long time. His thumb slowly stroked over the back of her hand. And then he pulled it up to kiss her knuckles.
"My child, you never disappoint me," he sighed. Gooseflesh rose all over her arms and shoulders. He released her. And the message was clear that it was time for her to go.
Sakura still didn't know the details of what happened in that room after she left. She knew better than to ask. All that mattered was that Kabuto emerged alive. The Red Arrow boys never made any attempts to go near the Mid-Levels again. And Kabuto still walked with a limp years later.
When Zabuza pulled up to the locked gate, two no-names stopped them. They didn't even recognize the infamous Demon Eyes Zabuza. Sakura could hear him losing his temper so she opened up her window. Stuck her face out.
"Move," she ordered.
And the two men froze. Finally realizing who they were dealing with. They scrambled backwards, shouting at one another and struggling to open the lock. When the car finally pulled into the lot behind the auto shop, Kabuto was limping out of the small, dirty building. He didn't even give her the chance to get out. He opened the back door, one hand on top of the car. He stared in at her, black eyes narrowed.
"What the fuck do you want?" he demanded. He almost flinched when the barrel of her gun met his nose.
"Get in the car. Alone," Sakura ordered, her voice soft. Mouth softer.
Kabuto's eyes darted around. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he sat down beside her. He shut the door, leaning against it, ready to bolt at any second. Zabuza locked it. The sound made Kabuto flinch.
Truly the instincts of a little rat.
"Tokyo is mine, Kabuto. Why are you trying to make deals with the Yamanaka-kai?" Sakura asked. She didn't bother with greetings or beating around the bush. She didn't want to extend this chat in any way.
"I'm not," replied Kabuto.
She grabbed a cigarette out of the pack she had wedged into the door. She placed it between her lips. She patted her pockets and then looked around. Kabuto's eyes darted from her to the door again. And then he sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lighter and offered her the flame. She leaned towards him, waiting until the tip of the cigarette began to sizzle. As soon as it caught, he stuffed the lighter back into his pocket.
Sakura leaned against the opposite door. Watching his every nervous twitch.
"You swear?" she asked. He didn't answer.
"Because if I find out that you were the one who shot at me, I'm going to destroy you. I'll wipe your very existence from this earth. It'll be like you were never born," Sakura warned, smiling. She exhaled into his frozen face. But then she looked him over. At the fading purple on his cheek. At the fraying hem of his sleeve and scuffed sneakers.
"Who hit you?" she asked. When he didn't respond, she reached over to poke his bruise. He slapped her hand away.
"Diu lei- don't fucking touch me," Kabuto snapped.
Sakura took a long drag on her cigarette, watching him through the haze. Her eyelashes drooping across her vision.
"You know… if you're in some kind of trouble, you should go talk to the Dragon Head," she suggested. Kabuto glared even harder at her.
"Fuck you. We both know that he's on your side," Kabuto snarled in return. Sakura shrugged.
"That's why you're a moron. You trusted the wrong people. Orochimaru and Kakashi are both dead," she pointed out. Then she glanced down at her nails. The tip of her right pointer finger had a little chip.
"And in the end, Mad Dog trusted me and not you," Sakura added, rubbing salt in the wound. Kabuto's upper lip twitched.
"You're not better than me," grumbled Kabuto. Sakura had to smile at that. She met his gaze.
"No. I'm not. I'm just luckier… and a lot smarter."
When Kabuto stepped out of the car a couple minutes later, his goons immediately swarmed the vehicle. She could see them carrying knives and metal bats. Some even had guns, which surprised her. Guns weren't so easy to come by in Hong Kong.
But Kabuto jerked his head to the side, striding back into the auto shop. They hesitated and grumbled, but they shuffled after him, still eyeing the gleaming black car.
Sakura opened up the back window.
"Fai Tsai," she called out. Kabuto stopped. Nobody even remembered who had started calling him useless. But it had stuck. Even his files at the HKPD referred to him as Fai Tsai. She could see his shoulders rising at the old nickname. Still, he turned on his heel, teeth clenching together. She lobbed a thick roll of money at him. It was all held together by a rubber band. Kabuto held it in his palms like it might explode at any second. And then he slowly lifted his chin to glare at her.
"The fuck do you want?" he demanded.
"Diu lan lei. Is that how you say thanks? Buy yourself some decent clothes. It's embarrassing being seen with you," scoffed Sakura, waving a hand at him.
"I don't need your charity, Jing-Mei," scoffed Kabuto. But Sakura began closing the window.
"Yes you do," she replied before the window shut completely. She tapped on the partition and Zabuza began turning the car around. Kabuto didn't try to stop them as they drove out of the lot and back onto the street.
"That was way too nice of you, boss. Those Red Arrow assholes don't deserve a cent of your money," grumbled Zabuza. She met his gaze in the mirror. And then his eyes darted back to the road.
"Was it?" answered Sakura, a smile spreading her lips.
The following night, she took the flight into Narita International Airport. She drank two glasses of red wine on the plane and woke with a crick in her neck. Zabuza didn't sleep a wink, his arms crossed over his chest.
As Sakura settled into the back of the car, she touched her fingertips to her forehead. Her face scrunched up. She let out a sigh.
"What's wrong, Boss?" asked Zabuza, adjusting his mirror to look at her. Sakura leaned her head back against the seat.
"Do you need a drink?" he suggested. Sakura reached into the seat pocket behind the passenger seat and found a fresh box of cigarettes. Tenten truly could be a blessing. She thought of everything. Peeling the plastic off, Sakura took one out. Rubbed her fingers against the smooth paper.
"Are there any skulls for me to crack in Tokyo?" she queried. She lit the cigarette, watching the flames eat at the paper. Turning it black at the edges.
"Not at the moment, Boss," replied Zabuza.
Sakura stuck the lighter back into her pocket. She took a very long drag from her cigarette.
"A drink, then," she ordered.
Itachi found her on a rooftop bar an hour later. The bottom half of her skirt was sheer. Sakura crossed one leg over the other, the gold rings on her fingers glimmering softly in the darkness. Her dress displayed the smooth expanse of her back. The old stab wound on the right side was hidden under a tattoo of a black koi.
He rested his hand on her shoulder. Just to see her reaction.
Something hard pressed against his forearm in response. The wine in her glass didn't even slosh.
"It's me," Itachi said.
Clicking her tongue, Sakura put her gun away. She twisted her head to look over her shoulder at him. He smiled, eyes softening into half-moons. He settled in the seat to her right. Whatever words had gathered on her tongue dissolved.
She touched the scab on his left cheekbone.
"Did someone take a swing at you, Kumicho?" asked Sakura.
Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch. She pulled her hand back. And he opened his eyes again. Sakura avoided his gaze by opening up her clutch to pull out a fresh cigarette. She dug around, pushing her phone and lipstick aside. But no cigarettes. Grumbling under her breath, she lifted her head to find Itachi offering her one of his own.
"They're not menthols," Itachi warned her. She accepted it, lifting it to her lips. And he snapped his cigarette case shut. Sakura watched him light his cigarette. Her eyes skimmed over his narrow face and long eyelashes. The shape of his upper lip as it closed around the cigarette. He looked up at her. Eyes flickering from his cigarette to her.
Sakura steadied her cigarette between her fingers, leaning towards him. When smoke began to seep from the tip of her cigarette, she pulled back.
"So," she said considering the grey wisps coming from between her fingers. And then her eyes met his. "Business or pleasure, daai lou?"
Itachi smiled again.
"It's always a pleasure to do business with you. But there are some things I wanted to ask you," Itachi replied, almost sounding regretful. Sakura pursed her lips around her cigarette, nodding for him to continue.
"Are you still using the Inuzuka-kai to move your product?" he questioned. Sakura dipped her head again.
"And just them?"
At this, Sakura narrowed her eyes.
"Well, it would have been nice to use the Sarutobi's, but they declined. It seems like they want to move away from that," Sakura replied. She scoffed, putting her elbow up on the bar. "As if people will ever stop needing god's medicine." She lifted her cigarette to her lips, paused. She glanced at Itachi.
"But you've been thinking, I see. What's really on your mind, daai lou?" she pressed.
Itachi stared down at the bar. One hand on his chin, the other resting on his knee. As he thought, Sakura waved to the bartender. She pointed to her glass and then raised two fingers. When she turned back to Itachi, he was looking at her now.
"You said to stop focusing on the Inuzuka-kai and to look at the Yamanaka-kai instead," Itachi recalled. Sakura nodded before taking a sip of her wine.
"What did you find?" she inquired. She could see it in the furrow of his brow. The way he kept shaking his head like he couldn't even believe his own thoughts.
"Too much money. It doesn't match their numbers at all," Itachi said, almost like a question. Sakura shrugged at that. The bartender dropped off their drinks, along with an ashtray. He accepted the huge bill that Sakura slipped him and disappeared without question. Sakura slid a glass over to Itachi.
"Where's that too much money going, Kumicho?" Sakura prompted.
"I don't know yet. But we ran into some 24k snooping around in Chuo and that's how this happened," said Itachi, gesturing to his cheek. Sakura considered this, arms folding over her chest. As she thought, Itachi took a hearty swig of wine. Hummed in approval. Drained his glass. Sakura pushed the second one over to him without question.
"My boys know to play nice with your boys. I don't think it was me," Sakura finally replied.
"They didn't look like yours anyway. I couldn't understand them, but I did hear them say daai lou and Tobirama," Itachi told her. Sakura's eyes narrowed. Running her tongue along her teeth, she turned over this new information in her mind. Crossing her right leg over the left, she rested her right elbow on her thigh. Leaning in closer to him, she touched her fingers to his chest.
"I don't like being lied to. You know that, right?" she inquired.
"As much as you hate the smell of beer," Itachi replied. She graced him with a smile.
"You do know me," Sakura laughed, sitting back up. She let her fingers slide off him. She tapped the ash off the tip of her cigarette. Raised it back up to her lips.
"What're you planning next?" she then questioned before she inhaled. Itachi spun the wine glass between his thumb and pointer finger. He had barely touched his cigarette. It rested in his left hand, smoldering lonely.
"I guess it's time for me to pay a visit to Yamanaka Inoichi. He was always loyal under my father; I never thought to suspect him of anything," Itachi mused, almost to himself. Sakura let out a noisy sigh, drawing his gaze again.
"Didn't you once tell me that you're not your father?" she pointed out to him. His eyebrows drew together at that. He pushed the wine glass away from him. He turned on the stool to fully face her. She could feel his gaze spilling over her, and then focusing back on her face.
"You're all dressed up. Busy night ahead of you?" he suddenly queried. Sakura rolled her eyes.
"If I wanted to have some fun, I'd be in Shibuya, not here in Roppongi Hills paying 2500 yen for a glass of wine," Sakura retorted. And then she batted her eyelashes at him. "Why? Do I look strange?" she baited him.
"No. You look nice," Itachi answered. The modesty of his response wasn't quite what she had been fishing for. But it still warmed her. His simplicity.
"Another word of advice for you. Because sometimes I think you yakuza seem to forget. But I'm not one of you," Sakura said. She tapped her pointer finger against the bar. The ruby on her pointer finger glittered.
"Is that a threat?" asked Itachi, his voice lowering.
Sakura sighed, tilting her head this way and that. She opened her eyes to look at Itachi.
"You stupid man. It means that I'm not affiliated with any of you. So you can use me," she spelled out for him. His eyes narrowed.
"Why would you do that?" demanded Itachi, leaning closer to her. Sakura reached out to touch his scab again. This time, he didn't lean into her. Her smile widened.
"You have a terrible memory today, Kumicho. I already told you. It's because I think you're cute," she said. She blew her smoke out into his face. And when he closed his eyes against it, she leaned in to kiss his cheek. She stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray.
"You know where I'll be, daai lou," Sakura said, getting out of her seat.
Itachi caught her arm. Held her there. His eyes exhausted and dark, glittering.
"Sakura," he uttered. And the way he said her name sounded special. Rolling off his teeth and tongue like a sacred mantra. She smiled down at him, her hand resting on his shoulder.
"I'll be in touch, Itachi," she replied. And then she slipped through his fingers.