Hello friends! This is a gift fic for the lovely caribbianbeauty17, who provided the title. I'm not exactly sure how this strange little story took hold in my brain, but I couldn't stop writing it. What was meant to be a one-shot will likely be a four-shot. I spent a whole afternoon researching the 1920s, which was pretty fun!
This is a murder-mystery-ish story, but it mostly focuses on Sakura's relationship with Sasuke. Rated T for some gore, so please be warned. You know me though, I mostly keep things PG-13:)
Chapter One: Struck by Lightning
As Kakashi unzips the body bag, Sakura gasps. She's seen many corpses in her work with the New York City Police Department, but not only does this body seem especially mangled, it also looks unsettlingly familiar.
Raven-black hair is matted down with dried blood, framing a face that might have been beautiful: an aquiline nose broken at a jagged angle, pale lips pulled back in what might be a smile or a grimace. The eyes are gone, and the gaping sockets, thick with congealed blood, seem to follow Sakura as she approaches.
She shivers, though the room is warm, unable to alleviate the feeling that she might have known the dead man. Sakura tries to place the likeness and fails, is just about to ask Kakashi for the victim's name when her gaze falls on the torso, and she exhales sharply.
There are numerous stab wounds to the chest, and though it is gruesome, it's not what startles her. The remaining skin on the chest and arms is covered in a red fern-like pattern that might, to the untrained eye, look like an abstract tattoo. But not only is Sakura the foremost forensic doctor in New York City, she has also seen these markings before.
"Lightning again," she says into the silence. "He must have been struck by lightning." The textbook name for the markings is a Lichtenberg figure, a skin pigmentation that sometimes—though rarely—happens to victims struck by lightning. The markings often subside…if the victims live.
Kakashi grunts in acknowledgment, fiddling with the gold buttons of his double-breasted blue uniform. "I figured as much. But it's always good to have confirmation. The mayor is going to be furious," he says in an undertone, mindful of the other officers just outside.
"And there hasn't been a thunderstorm since August," Sakura mutters.
Kakashi snorts. "It's November, and we're up to our ninth victim."
Nine corpses, all etched with the delicate filigree of Lichtenberg figures.
Sakura shivers again and struggles to maintain a clinical tone. "The eyes are new," she says, turning to face Kakashi—and away from the body. "We've never seen that before."
She wipes her clammy palms on her white skirts and meets Kakashi's gaze. At his veiled expression, her eyes narrow. "You know something," she says.
He fiddles with his high collar, looking as nervous as she's ever seen him. She softens her gaze. She knows it can't be easy being the chief of police—especially when the last man to hold the job died a similar, gruesome death as the corpse on the table.
In the beginning, the string of strange murders hadn't alarmed their former boss, Danzo. The first to die was a notorious crime leader, Orochimaru, his knifed body washing up on the riverside. It was assumed he had been killed in a fight. The papers reported the man's strange, swirling tattoos; later, Sakura had suspected lightning marks, but they didn't correct the news because they didn't want citizens to panic.
When Deidara, a domestic terrorist known for blowing up a bank after robbing it, was found stabbed to death and covered in the fern-like markings in a similar manner, Danzo was quoted in the paper as saying, "Good riddance. Maybe these idiots can kill themselves off so we don't have to."
Next was a bouncer at a speakeasy known, the obituaries said, for his cheesy singing, but the police didn't care much and covered up the fact that he had the same markings as the previous victims.
Everything was quiet for about a month. Then the elderly and retired former chief of police was murdered in his bed along with his wife, stabbed through their hearts, their flesh seared with the tell-tale pattern.
New York was on high alert. Danzo didn't go anywhere without at least two bodyguards, including his own home. For weeks though, nothing happened, and the waiting made it worse.
People had finally started to relax when the murderer struck once again: a little over one month ago, Danzo and his guards were found at his home, knifed to death and skin covered in the strange markings.
It was impossible to cover up the deaths after that, and they could no longer pretend that the murders were not connected. Now the city is in a panic over the serial killer, and the whole police force is jumpy, waiting for the other shoe to fall.
Sakura glances back at the corpse and bites her lip. There's no telling where the killer might strike, but given that five out of nine murders were connected to former police chiefs, it's no wonder that Kakashi is showing his anxiety.
She knows Kakashi can't tell her everything, but he does need to tell her enough to do her job.
Her ire fades. She studies the dead body a final time. "I feel like I might have known him," she murmurs, swallowing against the bile rising in her throat.
Kakashi zips up the body bag, and at his gesture the other officers stride forward to place the victim back into cold storage. Sakura thinks without any real humor how funny that is; she hadn't grown up with a refrigerator, and now, not only is every family going into debt to own one, but they're good for keeping stiffs fresh, too. Frigidaire should add that to their radio jingles.
Sakura winces at the turn of her thoughts, a sign of her black mood, and follows her superior to his office. She takes a seat in front of Kakashi's desk while Kakashi paces around the room, and Sakura, used to his habits by now, doesn't speak until he finally sits down.
"What I wouldn't do to go back to being a private eye again," he says, glaring at his chief of police badge in his hand.
Sakura snorts. "You really want to go back to working under Danzo, that corrupt son of a—"
"It's not that," Kakashi says, still staring down at his badge with three golden stars of rank. He pins it onto his breast again, then stares down at his empty hands.
Sakura looks out of the window, waiting for him to collect himself. From her view on the tenth floor, Manhattan spreads out like a map below them. She trains her eyes on the smokestacks billowing into the iron sky.
When the silence has gone on long enough, Sakura asks, with as much patience as she can muster, "Who was the victim, sir?"
Kakashi sighs, and to Sakura, he sounds like he's deflating. "I hate to do this to you, but I think you actually might have known him. For our sakes, I hope you do."
His words take Sakura aback, and her throat constricts in fear. He leans forward, chair creaking beneath him, and hands her a black and white photograph. For a moment, she just stares. Then, with trembling fingers, she takes the photo.
She studies the face, her brows creasing—and then she freezes. The photo falls from her nerveless fingers, fluttering to the carpet, face up. She can't look away from his face.
"Itachi," she breathes, stomach heaving. Her lunch isn't sitting well anymore.
"You knew him."
It's not a question, but she nods her head yes anyway. Just then the door bursts open, and a disheveled blond head pokes in. It's Naruto, his hat showing the two stars of the assistant chief.
"I just got word—sorry I'm late," he says as he closes the door behind him, moves a stack of papers off a free chair, and sits down heavily. "It's got to be him Chief, and now we have proof."
Kakashi spreads his hands wide. "We've got nothing."
"But—" Naruto sputters. "It's got to be— It's his brother—"
His words jolt Sakura out of her stupor. "Sasuke?" she cries, incredulous. "You think— But why—" she breaks off abruptly, her head swimming. Anger hits her then, and she jumps out of her chair, glaring at the two of them.
"This is crazy! Sasuke hasn't been in New York in years, and I should know, because I tried to find the bastard, but he was just—" She breaks off abruptly, unable to say the words. He was just gone.
He left her. Without a word. Just…gone. She bites her lip, holding onto her anger, the rage she has been fostering toward the creep all these years. Anger is better than feeling the bitter loneliness and betrayal underneath.
She points an accusatory finger at Naruto, regaining herself. "You think he's killed his own brother? That's bullshit!"
"Calm down," Kakashi demands, firmly, but not unkindly.
"We should start from the beginning," Naruto says, offering her an apologetic, almost guilty look.
Sakura sits back down in her chair warily and clutches the seat with white-knuckled fingers.
Naruto turns to Kakashi and glares. "I still think your plan is screwy, old man."
"That's Chief to you," Kakashi says wearily. He leans back in his chair, props his boots on his desk, and lights a cigarette. One look at Sakura's pale face and he offers her one too, even lights it for her, which shows that he must really be concerned about her.
"Where's mine?" Naruto asks.
Kakashi rolls his eyes and flicks one at him, which Naruto catches dexterously. "Aren't ya going to light it for me?"
As Kakashi tells Naruto to stop being a sap, and as the other man complains about the rough treatment, Sakura's mind whirls.
She had dated Sasuke for three years. She had been a med student, he, business. They had met in the library: she hadn't been looking where she'd been going, and she spilled her coffee all over his term paper.
A month later, she slept with him. A year later, they'd moved in together. Then one day, he had just vanished—his things were all gone, and he never came home. No note. And at that point, his parents were dead, and she didn't know how to find Itachi, whom she'd only met once.
Just thinking about that awful time makes her feel close to tears, even though years have passed. She's never dated anyone else. Swiping at her face, Sakura leans down and picks up Itachi's picture, remembering when she met him for the first and only time.
He had been in from Boston, and she had gone to his parents' house for dinner. Itachi hadn't said much that whole night, but that was the only memory she had of him. And now he was dead, his body a cold, mutilated stiff in the freezer downstairs.
Sakura sucks on the end of her cigarette, eyes watering.
"This is already too much for her, pops," Naruto says. "Can't you see—"
"I'm fine," Sakura interjects, sniffling. She flicks ashes into a nearby tray and spears Kakashi with a look. "Out with it."
Kakashi exhales sharply, a jet of smoke clouding the air. "Naruto tells me you dated Sasuke Uchiha."
Her chin comes up, the defiant effect slightly ruined by a sniffle.
"Did you know he came from a notorious crime family?"
"What? No!" Sakura cries, rising from her seat again. "That's nuts! His dad was a cop! I think Itachi—" her lip quivers, but she forces herself to be strong. "He was a cop too. Served in the war, then joined the force…"
Kakashi shakes his head. "Sasuke's parents were murdered by a rival crime organization," Kakashi says, his voice even, but his eyes full of sorrow for her.
Naruto wraps an arm around her and eases her back into her seat. "Sasuke lied to you," he says. "His dad was in the force for a while, that's true, but he resigned when corruption charges were brought against him. Nothing was ever proven, but it was strongly suspected that he was into organized crime."
Sakura gapes at him.
Naruto sighs, biting his lip. "I've been investigating Sasuke for the past year. I wanted to tell you Sak, but I couldn't—you know how it is. And anyway, I wasn't absolutely sure until recently. I'm sorry," he whispers.
"Why tell me this now?" Sakura asks, forcing her shaking feet to stand. She leans over Kakashi's desk and glares at him, furious and afraid all at once.
"It gets worse," Kakashi says.
How could it possibly get any worse? A wave of dizziness washes over her; she's grateful Naruto is there to help her back into her chair.
Kakashi clears his throat. "Itachi was part of the rival organization." He pauses to suck on the end of his cigarette; when he speaks, his words are wreathed in smoke. "Itachi is the one who killed his parents."
Thanks for reading! Please review ;)