For Paper balloons
Pairing: ItaSaku
Word count: 601
Prompts: third person, "I actually really dislike you", going to the market, Akatsuki
Notes: So if you know me, you know that I fully believe this theory of Sakura's parentage, so much that I'm not even classifying this as an AU. This was fun, but I have my doubts about. So. Enjoy (hopefully)!
-x-
Sakura examined a plump, ruby red tomato. "How much for this?"
"Ah…" The vendor swallowed and attempted a smile. "For you? Free."
Sakura raised an eyebrow. "You're selling for free?"
The vendor squirmed. "They're on sale. That one is bruised, so…"
"It's not bruised."
"It is, it is! Perhaps you can't see, but I, with my trained eye…" The vendor trailed off at the unimpressed look on Sakura's face.
The vendor, Daisuke, didn't want much out of life. He wanted a modest little house with a red door, a wife who wouldn't mind that modest little house or its red door, and three children – twin girls and a baby boy – who would move out of that modest little house and find a luxuriously big house and paint their doors red. It could be something to hand down through generations. Daisuke dreamed of red doors signifying his place in the world, cropping all over the world, one day, long after he was gone.
Aside from that, Daisuke didn't want much. He just wanted to sell his fruits and vegetables, make enough money to get by, and go home in peace after a long day.
Too bad Sakura-san wouldn't let him.
"Is that so?" Sakura asked. "I need a more trained eye, hm?" She dropped a hand to her hip and turned to look back over her shoulder. "Itachi!" she called, and Daisuke's heart nearly stopped when the figure he always knew was there, skulking in the shadows, but had never actually seen, appeared behind Sakura.
"Yes?" Itachi said flatly.
Sakura held up the tomato. "Examine this," she told him, though she was staring at Daisuke. He quivered. "Check for bruises."
Itachi took the tomato without a word, and Sakura folded her arms across her chest to wait.
Sakura was special. Only she was able to get the market all to herself. It was a good thing too, or all his customers would have been scared away otherwise, by the tall, imposing figure donned in the uniform of the most notorious criminal organization to ever be created.
"It isn't bruised," Itachi said finally, handing Sakura the tomato.
Sakura nodded and turned back to Daisuke, who cowered. "That's what I thought. So," her eyes narrowed, "How much?"
Daisuke glanced at Itachi. He was watching him closely. His expression hadn't changed once. Daisuke looked back to Sakura. She looked impatient. He swallowed nervously again.
Who to side with? If he let Sakura pay, Itachi would break him immediately. If he didn't let her pay, she would kick up a fuss, possibly break everything but him, and then complain to her father, who might not do anything to him… It was a lose-lose situation.
Daisuke looked to Itachi again. Itachi looked him straight in the eye and, almost imperceptibly, shook his head. Just once.
"Sorry, Sakura-san," Daisuke said with an apologetic smile, "But I don't want to charge my favorite customer for less-than-perfect tomatoes."
Sakura glared at Daisuke and he winced. She stormed away without taking any tomatoes, and he wondered if he had made the wrong decision. But then Itachi, who had stayed behind (Daisuke hadn't even noticed him, which was weird; the man was a deadly criminal) lifted the entire crate of tomatoes (Daisuke supposed that feeding notorious criminals wasn't cheap), set down some coins, and, with an approving nod, turned on his heel to follow Sakura.
As they left, Daisuke heard Sakura snap: "I don't care if you are my dad's favorite, I actually really dislike you." A huff, then: "Next time I'm bringing Kisame."
Daisuke slumped. Maybe it was time to retire…
