When he was finally out of my site I turned and spat on the ground, trying to get the taste of him out of my mouth. I rubbed my hand over my lips until I thought that they might fall off from the force of my scrubbing. Once my fury finally died down enough for me to think, I ran. I have no idea why I ran, I just had to. I couldn't control the urge, I just obeyed it. Who knows how long I had been running, but the sun was lower in the sky than it should have been. I knew that I had to get home if I was supposed to get ready for the dance.

I changed course and slowed my pace, hoping that if I was late they wouldn't let me in. Fat chance. Thirty minutes tops to my house, twenty for preparations, then twenty more to get to the place, it started in an hour and a half.

I could still feel the chills in my skin, as though they would never go away. I stared down at my hand, still feeling the warmth of his skin on mine, and it was killing me. It seemed to stroke the scar in my mind. The scar was growing. I could feel it even now. I could follow it if I really wanted to. I had no idea where it would lead me, and it sounded like a very bad idea to go somewhere that I didn't know how to get out of. I seemed to be hyperaware of it now more than ever. I really wanted to kill that man sometimes.

I was surprised to see a shadow on my porch when I arrived home. As I approached it I could see its features better. The first thing I saw was its spiky hair, then the bangs, and finally the face of the boy.

"Sasuke," I said, speaking carefully. "I didn't expect to see you on my doorstep again."

Sasuke, who's eyes had been closed while he leaned against my house with his arms crossed over his chest, snapped his eyes opened as though he were surprised to see me here… at my house. "Kiyomi," he said. "That's a um… an interesting outfit."

I looked down at myself. I had completely forgotten what I was wearing. I could feel a slight blush come across my face when I thought of the fact that I had been talking to Itachi in this, and that he had kissed me in this while he was shirtless. "I had nothing else to wear," I said nonchalantly. "Did you come here to question my wardrobe or did you have another reason." I walked forward and I unlocked the front door to my house.

"I have a reason," he said. "I have only two options here. You are the only one in the village who might be able to give me more power than Orochimaru. You are the only one with the ability to train me with exactly what I need to kill Itachi. It's either you or him."

"Are you saying you want to come back to me?" I asked him. I knew he'd never make it sound like that, but it was what he wanted. He figured that threats were the best way to do it.

He looked at me for a minute–no glared is more of the right word. "Possibly," he said grudgingly.

"Very well, but it won't just be training of your body. You are going to need a complete mental reform as well. Are you okay with this?" I asked. "Because that's what it's going to take for me to train you." I sat down on my couch completely stressed out. How much can one dying clan bother me in a day?

"Yes," he said. He didn't look particularly happy about it, but he agreed none the less. That's all I needed.

"Okay, tomorrow at three. Meet me here," I said.

"Alright," he said, and turned to leave. He paused at the door, one hand resting on the handle. "It is nice to see you again." Just like that, he was gone. I couldn't help but smile at his words. Sasuke's never been emotional, so that was as close as he would ever get, but I was more than okay with that.

There was one thing that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. I wasn't going to tell him about Itachi until I knew that he was ready.

I sighed as I put the final pin into my overly intricate hairdo. To any normal person it looked like a simple hybrid of the normal bun, twisted to my head. The kanzashi that I had placed in my hair was a piece of jewelry that I inherited from my biological parents. Only I would know the amount of effort that it too to actually keep my hair in this position. And while I was getting ready I was cursing the council for even breathing. Why did they have to call me out anyway!

I made my way towards the full body mirror and looked at my full form. The kimono's pattern is a royal blue with intricate silver designs that seem to swirl in a constant, yet meaningless pattern gently through the furisode, all in moderation. The obi was a deep crimson red and tied in the traditional bow fashion behind my back.

I was wearing more jewelry today than I ever have before. I had forgotten about the necklace that I wore. It has been on me for so long that I had gotten use to it being there. It was a black stoned heart necklace with diamonds surrounding it, and a diamond pattern that seemed to be imbedded into the black stone. I had put on my real mothers ring which also had a black stone inside of it, but this one was a much more elegant fashion. The band was silver and near the black gem it was adorned with small glittering stones in an interesting pattern.

I sighed, remembering the last time I dressed up like this when I wasn't on a mission.

FLASHBACK

The creature staring back at me I barely recognized as my own form as I stared in the mirror. I was wearing a red furisode with white flowers on the sleeves. The obi was a crème white and tied behind the back. The furisode was outlined with white and gave it a bright elegant look despite the crimson coloring.

Itachi had requested that I dress up, he said it was supposed to be special. He had refused to tell me why. I sighed, and the creature in the mirror with my green eyes opened her mouth and gave an expression of annoyance. This creature seemed to be far too beautiful to be me. It was an exotic beauty that only seemed available to princesses.

I left the bathroom to pace around my room once more. It didn't seem to be helping my nerves in the least.

"You know if you keep pacing like that you're bound to leave grooves in the floor," a recognizable voice said behind me.

"Itachi," I exclaimed, turning towards him. I paused to take in his appearance. He was wearing a black kimono with a red long jacket over it that gave him a simple, royal look. His pony-tail seemed to be placed lower on his head than before, giving him a more relaxed air.

He pushed himself off of the wall and in two strides stepped forward putting himself no more than a foot in front of me. He put his arm out for me to take, and I did so without hesitation. He stepped back and twirled me into him, wrapping his arm around my waist. "You look lovely," he whispered into my ear. I could feel the scarlet stains on my cheeks when he spoke, his breath gently caressing the base of my neck.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Itachi," I whispered in a tone not unlike that of his own.

He chuckled lightly and released me, stepping back as he did so. "I can't possibly imagine what the council would do if they knew exactly how much emotion I show to you," he mused lightly.

I turned to face him, smiling. "Itachi, that emotion is you. You're a kind, loving, and peaceful person who just so happens to hold a job that requires you not to feel. I've watched you act for the clients, for the council, for everyone."

"Not for everyone," he said, placing a hand gently against my face. The intensely emotional look that he gave me sent chills down my spine. He cleared his throat and looked away from me, pulling his hand to his side. "It's not like I could act around you. You'd see right through it if I tried."

"Yeah," I said still slightly shaken from his gaze. "I'm your weakness."

"And I'm glad for that," he said as he looked back to me again. "Well, we best get going. Why keep our 'fans' waiting." He always mocked the kids who followed us, calling them fans. The only thing I liked to call them was annoying.

The dance room was recently decorated to look new, but in reality it was as old as the village itself. The floors had been mopped to shine like new marble, and the decrepit walls had obviously been redone to match the floors. Every inch of the room seemed to shimmer with elegance. There were tables set up on the sides of each room, and a bar to the right currently occupied with about ten guys looking for some liquid courage.

Out on the dance floor there were a few couples attempting to do something that looked like a waltz and others who admitted their lack of knowledge of dance and just swayed back and forth.

"Nice party," I commented quietly.

Itachi rolled his eyes and looked down at me. I smiled, closing my eyes to exaggerate the smile. "I guess we'll have to liven it up a little bit, won't we?" he asked in his dangerous voice that told me I'd be sorry for coming out.

"Uh oh," I said in a quiet voice, my expression quickly changing to that of horror as he spun me onto the dance floor.

Dancing with Itachi was indescribable. Everyone was staring at us, wanting to dance like us, some of them trying, none of them succeeding. On slower songs he would pull my body closer to his and we would whisper to each other jokes about what we see others doing, and on faster songs we would dance elaborate and complex dances that have been long since forgotten in most societies because they appeared too difficult. For everyone else we quickly became part of the entertainment.

For me it was exhilarating the way his skin would brush my own causing chills on my skin and a blush on my cheeks. The fast dances left us both breathless and tired, but kept adrenaline coursing through our veins as if it were blood itself. There was nothing in the world that could compare to the exhilaration of the dances, except maybe the way he looked at me. His eyes seemed to stare straight through me, as though he understood everything about who I was. It was as if he were trying to tell me that I was the most important thing in the world to him, and that he couldn't see anyone, or anything else, and I felt the same thing for him. Nothing could ruin this moment.

END FLASHBACK

I smiled, remembering the only good dance that I have ever been to. This one was probably going to be just as boring as all the others, a lack of people to talk to, being forced to dress up in uncomfortable and tight clothing while being bored out of my mind. Things like this just didn't peak my interest anymore.