Day two. This one was especially fun.

Kitchen Messes

(for itasaku week)

They had been planning this date for a week. She would come over on Friday night at 7. She had asked what to bring. He had mysteriously replied white wine with one of those stupid winking emojis that he deeply regretted sending until she had sent one back a few minutes later.

As soon as they had said goodnight, Itachi had dialed his younger brother's number. In a voice hazy with sleep, Sasuke had picked up on the third ring.

"What? A dinner date? Heat up a Lean Cuisine or something," Sasuke snarled in response and hung up.

So no help on that front.

He spent every spare moment on the internet looking up idiot-proof dinner recipes. And when Friday night rolled around, he was reasonably confident with the menu. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he had set about calmly moving around the kitchen.

This went to hell, of course, by the time Sakura arrived an hour later. She was wearing a red polka dot headband and her hair was pulled up and he was so out of his mind that he kissed her at the front door without even letting her inside. Her eyes went wide and she blinked profusely but she didn't seem angry about the strange greeting. In fact, she blushed a little, a pretty shade of rouge rising to her cheeks.

"Um… nice to see you too. I brought the wine," she said, holding up a green bottle with some fancy French label.

"I wasn't sure what you were cooking so I just went with whatever. Something smells really good. Are you making apple pie?" Sakura asked all at once as they finally went inside. Itachi struggled not to look too panicked as he took her coat, hanging it up in the hall closet.

"Ha… not really. It's a scented candle," admitted Itachi with a sheepish laugh.

TO COVER THE SMELL OF BURNING GARLIC, a voice screamed inside his head.

"Oh, nice touch. Quite romantic," she commented with a flirtatious smile. It was only through sheer will power that he managed to smile back. She looked around the living room with curiosity. He had been sure to scrub the entire place clean and it looked as if she approved. Rubbing her hands together, she turned to look at him.

"Okay. So, what're you making? Let me help," she said, hands on her hips.

Just a disaster, the voice sighed.

"Just some pasta and chicken. Salad. Dessert," he managed to reply.

"Wow, full course. I'm impressed. Should I chop vegetables, stir the pot? Drink all the wine and stand making quirky commentary?" she asked, pointing in several directions as she asked where the kitchen was. Thinking quickly, he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her to the couch instead. He made her sit and then, for some reason, picked up a cushion and put that on her lap too.

"Relax. I'll take care of everything," was all he said before he hurried back to the kitchen. And then after a moment, he was back to take the bottle of wine. Another moment after that, he was back again to hand her a glass of the wine. All the while, she was smiling and trying her best not to laugh.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?" she called after him

"No, it's fine," he insisted as the door swung shut after him.

PLEASE DON'T COME IN HERE AND SEE THIS.

Because the scorched shreds of onion and garlic in the frying pan hardly looked edible. The chicken looked sort of maimed and sad, like it had been caught in a house fire. The pasta sat in one angry lump at the bottom of the drained pot. The salad dressing had refused to mix together properly and it was a sort of runny mess on top of the salad greens. He had tried to cover the travesty with crumbles of bleu cheese but now it just looked like moldy vomit. The only thing left had been the pie but it had somehow exploded, covering the inside of the oven in gooey chunks.

Putting his head in his hands, he tried to think of what to do.

"Maybe I can order takeout really quick?" he muttered to himself.

He stood waving a dishcloth to keep smoke away from the smoke detector for a bit. And then, with a resigned sigh, he nudged at the ruined food still sitting on the stove.

"Okay, so you know I'm super-antsy and I can't sit still. At least let me do dishes," said Sakura as she pushed the door open with her hip. She froze in her tracks as soon as she saw the smoky mess inside the kitchen.

ABORT ABORT. ABANDON SHIP, the voice screeched as his brain went completely blank.

Sakura's stare swept around the chaotic room once before it focused in on him. To punctuate the moment of absolute horror, a piece of pie stuck to the roof of the oven flopped down in a sticky plop.

"I'll…be right back," she finally whispered before dashing out of the house.

Itachi poked at the rubbery chicken one last time and then reached over to take a swig from the mostly-full wine bottle.

Ten minutes later, there was the squeal of tires in his driveway. A car door slammed shut and then he heard the front door squeak open. Completely perplexed, he watched her burst into the kitchen, all breathless and pink-faced from running. She dumped a stack of plastic containers on the already-crowded counters.

"Okay. This is some mushroom ravioli from Wednesday. I think this is couscous. Grilled catfish from yesterday. This is… oh, this is stuffed bell peppers and some grilled zucchini. And that one is some macaroons I got at work today. This should be enough for dinner, right?" she rattled off, picking up each container and peering inside. When she finished, she straightened and gave Itachi a smile. He stared dumbly up at her. He was sitting on the floor, towel draped over his shoulder in a pose of absolute defeat.

"Did you just drive home to get your leftovers?" he slowly asked. Sakura nodded with a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong?" she inquired. He gave her a dumbfounded look.

"Here, try this," Sakura said, crouching to pop a slice of cold zucchini in his mouth. He chewed, eyes never leaving her face.

"I thought this would send you running," he admitted once he swallowed. He gestured to the still-smoky kitchen. She seemed surprised.

"Why? I think it's sweet that you tried to seduce me despite your obvious inability to cook at all," she responded frankly.

"Tried," he repeated pointedly. At this, Sakura's eyebrows arched.

"Sweet is the first step to seducing me, sir. Bring that wine. You'll find I'm pretty amenable with some food in me," she said with a wink. With that, she stood and grabbed all the containers before sauntering off to the living room. Itachi only stared after her for a second before he scrambled to his feet to grab the wine.