Author's Note:

THANK YOU FOR READING! And for the comments and kudos, you guys are awesome!

The first major fight is in the books. I HOPE YOU ALL ENOY!

A huge shoutout to my wonderful beta Umbra for helping me to figure out how to write action! You're amazing.

Drop me comments and such, I adore them. The love keeps me going when I feel like giving up.3

Stay tuned to see what's in store.:)

Be safe out there!

Morning came much too quickly. I awoke in a sea of plushy white sheets, luckily not hungover from the amount of alcohol I'd consumed the evening before. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I glanced down to find a large hand resting over the sharp curve of my hip. Still groggy from sleep, I barely registered it as reality. It was probably just some weird early morning, post-alcoholic dream.

At least, that was what I thought—up until the hand began snaking up my hip and underneath my breasts. With a gentle tug, my back came flush up against something warm and muscular. Another body.

"Well, good morning." Itachi's velvet timbre voice against my ear forced my eyes to widen. I rolled over. Staring in disbelief at brilliant crimson, half-lidded eyes gazing down at me, hungry. Trademark smirk and all. Heat scorched my cheeks as I nearly gawked, unblinking. For a moment, I considered that I might be going into shock.

With a subtle shake of my head, I tried to force myself to wake up. But the gorgeous Uchiha laying beside me didn't disappear. Oh, god… was he actually there?

A-am I dreaming?

I poked his cheek. I needed to make sure he was real–that this wasn't a dream. The flesh vibrated my finger tip as Itachi let out a low chuckle. I most definitely was not dreaming… Squeaking, I yanked the sheets over my head to hide my shame. Everything that had happened the night before had actually happened.

The thundering of my erratic heartbeat against my ribs threatened to break them.

"Foolish girl." Itachi purred. I gasped as the sheets were suddenly being pried from my clutches. Soft lips pressed light kisses on my forehead, my cheeks, my nose… my lips. Beaming up at him, I swept a lock of inky-black hair away from his face.

The sight of my chewed down nails stole my focus. They were unpainted. And that needed to be fixed. Suffering death via getting shredded by Samehada wasn't exactly how I wanted to go out.

I let out a groan, "Damn… we never painted my nails. Kisame will feed me to his summons if I leave this room without some kind of nail polish on."

My eyes fell closed as two fingers bumped my forehead. "Sit up." Pressing the blankets to my body, I shot him a dubious look and did as he asked. Itachi grabbed the nail polish still resting on the nightstand table and extended a hand to me after turning to face me.

Slowly pushing up to sit upright and tucking my knees to my chest, I gave him an unsure look before slipping my hand into his. "You really don't need to do this, I–"

"Relax your fingers." He muttered, pulling my hand closer. I did my best to surrender and tried to let my fingers settle against his. But, I was nearly trembling.

Having my nails painted, naked, by the man who'd taken my virginity merely hours wasn't exactly how I'd ever seen my morning pan out. And it wasn't something I was exactly… used to. Fighting to not tremble and breathe normally became my only two vital functions.

As he painted methodical strokes of navy colored lacquer on each of my nails, he looked something akin to an artist with their canvas.

Once satisfied with his work, he smiled. "There. They'll take a few minutes to dry. Try not to touch anything until I get back, okay?"

"Get back?" I gave him a confused look. "Where are you going?"

"You want to eat, don't you?" He cocked a brow.

The thought awoke the sleeping serpent of my anxiety with a vengeance. Dropping my gaze, I admired my newly decorated fingernails. "I should eat. Want to is a bit of a stretch."

"Is something wrong? Are you feeling okay?" He sarcastically fretted, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. His tendency to pull out sarcasm at the most opportune moments never ceased to amaze me.

Chuckling, I pushed his hand away. "Oh, shut up. I'm just nervous, that's all."

"I know," he cooed, tucking a rogue piece of hair behind my ear. "Just focus, and breathe. Do what you know how to do as a ninja. You'll be fine." A saccharine smile pulled at his lips. Its candy coating covered something suspicious.

The thought died the moment he rose from the bed. Itachi was gorgeous. Chiseled. Tall. And fucking pretty . The man was a god-complex. It wasn't fair.

Refocusing on picking my jaw up off the floor as he dressed, I fixated on the swirling fire red of his Anbu tattoo burning eternal flames over his pale skin. I wondered why he'd kept it.

He chuckled, forcing my wandering eyes to meet his. Midnight irises were concealed behind half-lidded eyes. Pinching my chin, he tipped my head back to leave a soft kiss against my lips. "I'll be back soon. And remember, don't touch anything."

After seeing him stride out of the room, I flopped back into the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The room felt terribly empty. With a smile and a giggle, I realized that Itachi was true to his name. He was a weasel. And the stupid Uchiha had weaseled his tall, dark and handsome self into the weak spot in my heart.

I stood directly at the gates of one of the places I dreaded most in the world. The stupid fucking Coliseum. My expression contorting to something akin to disgust, I stared up at the dark cement walls, plastered with banisters advertising various items and upcoming fights.

My fists clenched along with my jaw, knowing this wretched place would most likely soon become my grave. Fingers painted dark navy came to rest on my shoulder. Sinking into my anxious, all-consuming thoughts, the contact was the life raft I needed to save me from drowning.

I peeked up to see Itachi's soft smile. "You'll be fine. We'll be in and out quickly. I promise. I won't allow anything bad to happen to you." There was something under his smile and that reassuring tone. It had me wondering what he was up to.

He's not thinking about interfering, right…?

"Itachi…" I narrowed my eyes at him, "You'd better not be planning something. You can't step in." I warned, jamming my finger into his chest.

Kisame walked up from behind Itachi , snickering to himself, "Well, looks like Sora-chan has learned to read you like a book."

Itachi glared at him, "I'm not planning anything—"

"You've had that 'plotting and scheming' look all morning." I scoffed before putting a hand on my stomach to quell the anxious twisting my insides. Itachi couldn't intervene. He knew that… right? "Let's just go get this the fuck over with…" The nerves prompted the words to spill like bitter acid from my lips. Spinning on a heel, I strode through the front gates to my death.

I hustled down the hallway and up the stairs to stand up along the top railing of the stands, settling in a spot that was the most devoid of spectators. It wasn't surprising that Kisame and Itachi had managed to keep up with me, rounding the corner almost as soon as I leaned my back against the cool concrete of the arena walls.

I stood silently, frozen as a statue, arms folded, and eyes fixated on the fight finishing up on the illuminated stage below. I didn't know the fighters but recognized their patrons by the shouting and explicit remarks being made from the balconies just below our level.

A dark-haired boy who used a water style jutsu similar to Kisame's and a teenaged girl with spiky, jet-black hair and a rare crystal style Kekkai Genkai. She looked oddly familiar…

Where have I seen her before?

Kisame bumped his hip against mine as he came to stand beside me. "You doin' okay there, kiddo?"

Ha. No. No, I am not.

"Sure," I shrugged, not taking my eyes off the crystal jutsu user. "Just surveying my final resting place. You know, as one does." I nudged him with my elbow and did my best to smile.

"Hey, there will be no dying today, alright? Especially because Itachi and I will undoubtedly get castrated if we don't bring you back alive." He tugged me under a heavy arm and pulled me into his side.

"Besides, I trust you to demolish whoever you get put up against. You're kickass. Remember that, got it?" The sincerity and adoration that poured from Kisame's round eyes soothed my aching heart.

Even if he was totally wrong, that was exactly what I needed to hear. I envied Kisame for how he somehow always knew the perfect thing to say when I was down. He was the ultimate pep-talk master.

Damn it… Why do I have to be condemned to die now?

The heart ache returned with a sharp pang in my chest. I shut my eyes tight and threw my arms around him, squeezing hard. "Thank you, Kisame. For everything." I mumbled into his muscular torso.

I squeezed him as if the force of my hug would equate to how much love I'd come to hold in my heart for my sharky friend. After a minute of relishing the peace and wholeness of the friendly contact, I let go.

I thought about Itachi's comment from earlier and decided it was now or never. "What's he planning?" I whispered, keeping my voice as hushed as possible so Itachi wouldn't be able to hear from the other side of Kisame.

"He's probably stuck on whether or not he'll intervene in your fight if shit hits the fan," Kisame began to whisper. "He didn't mention anything—but I can tell you," He motioned with a subtle tilt of his head over to Itachi. The Uchiha was leaned up against the wall, arms crossed, and brows knitted; he looked brooding and sullen as ever.

"That look means he's terrified. To Itachi, nothing is more terrifying than losing the people he cares about." Kisame divulged, the earnest emotion in his eyes stabbed into my heart. I knew what he was saying. And, frankly, I'd known it for some time… Itachi loved me. And I loved him.

Fuck. Why have you not said anything until now, you idiot?

I took a deep breath as the gravity of the situation sunk in. "You two intervening won't be necessary. Kisame—I need you to promise me something," I glanced up with tired eyes and begged. "Please… Don't let him step in. No matter what happens."

Kisame gave a solemn nod in before I glanced back down at the arena. Shards of hot pink crystal lay strewn on the floor, contrasting the drops of blood from the harsh colliding of flesh and bone as fists and legs flew during some quick taijutsu. The thundering applause that followed as spectators hollered and cheered from the stands.

The fight was brought to an abrupt end by a massive shard of crystal piercing clean through the chest of the dark-haired boy with a wet crunching noise. I shuddered. "Sora..." Itachi's voice was drowned out by the booming applause and shouting from the spectators.

"And for the next round, we have a battle of two of your favorite Coliseum veterans. First, we have the reigning champion, Chino fighting for Oyashiro En."

Fear paralyzed me. "Oh, fuck…" I swore under my breath. Chino was another blood jutsu user… and the only person able to resist my Blood Manipulation Jutsu. I whipped around to see a little girl with violet eyes and short blonde hair standing off to one side of the arena. It was definitely Chino.

I swiveled at the sound of the sullen Uchiha. There was pain hiding behind his cold midnight eyes. His lips parted as if he were going to speak, but the announcer's far too cheerful voice coming over the microphone cut him off.

"And, Fighting for the Akatsuki, the other veteran undefeated champion, Sora the Blood Bandit !" A thunderous rumble of applause ensued. It was garbled under the miniature sonic booms of my pulse pounding in my ears from my erratic heartbeat resonating in my ears.

"Chin up, buttercup. I got this." I chimed with the best smile I could muster.

Itachi's Perspective:

Sora's sweet smile didn't fool me. To anyone else, she would appear perfectly fine, but the look in her eyes was one I'd seen before. One I'd hoped never to see again. Her sea-green eyes were a mirror of Shisui's just before he stepped over the cliff-edge. It was a goodbye. She'd asked me to trust her, but that last glance was the equivalent of having my heart ripped from my chest.

She was in danger. And I could do nothing except sit back and observe while hoping for the best. Due to the nature of the mission, my sweet Sora would have to do this on her own, no matter how much I wanted to put her under a Tsukuyomi and deal with En myself.

In a few quick leaps, she touched down amongst the crimson splattering of blood and bright pink crystals as I stepped forward up to the railing to get a better view. An enormous roar of cheers let loose from the crowd. Despite her stoic and cool demeanor, I knew it was simply a mask, veiling her immense fear. It was devastating. Whiteness spread over my knuckles from my fingers constricting around the railing metal railing.

You fool… why didn't you tell her you loved her? Kiss her? Something.

Her opponent, Chino, who appeared to be a child no older than 10 had a smug smirk pulling at her lips. Sora glared down at the girl opposite of her, frigid as ever. "Ready? Fight!"

Chino sprinted full speed toward Sora, quickly closing the distance between them and reached for a kunai from a pouch around her waist. Sora instinctively dropped into a defensive stance, letting the long metal blade of her ninjato slip out from her long sleeve. It glinted as she lifted it sidelong in front of her face.

Metal collided with a violent clang while Sora caught Chino's kunai with her blade. Taking one small step to the side, Chino stumbled forward from her own momentum. The girl's dainty fingers weaved a few quick signs as she regained her footing. "Suiton: Rain Hail!"

A barrage of frozen water droplets fell in thick sheets over Sora's head. Flipping through the air, she flew backwards, narrowly avoiding them much too close for comfort.

With the ninjato still in hand, her navy painted fingers weaved a familiar pattern of hand signs. "Katon: Fireball Jutsu!" A smile pulled at my lips at the enormous fiery inferno Sora released from her lips, evaporating the totality of the drops of water with a violent hiss. A plume of white steam billowed towards the heavens.

As her feet met the ground in the wake of the billowing steam, she sheathed her sword. A hand hovered over her wrist. My eyes widened watching small drops of blood beginning to seep out of her pores. Scarlet coiled like a crimson serpent around her scarred arm, undulating as it swirled its way upwards.

With a flick of her wrist, the string of red unwound before her. Another partial rotation of her wrist and a subtle curl to her fingers transformed the blood into a few hundred tiny senbon.

Her eyes flickered between sea-green and icy blue. The same icy blue I'd seen only days before. I'd been right. Sora was developing some kind of dojutsu. One I wasn't sure I'd ever seen before. But, that was an issue for later. She needed to make it out of this first.

The opening of her palm launched the little needles all at once in a blur through the cloud of dispersing steam.

She can change her own blood into weapons, eh? Clever.

Kisame's elbow jabbed into my side, prompting me to shoot him a sidelong glare. "Lighten up, Mr. Doom and Gloom–she's doing just fine. She's clearly more capable than either of us thought." The senbon narrowly missed Chino as the girl sprinted out of the side of the dispersing cloud and desperately hurdled a barrage of shuriken in Sora's direction.

Sliding under the spinning blades, a small smirk pulled at Sora's lips watching Chino jolt forward with a wince. Blood leaked from the tiny needles lodged into Chino's flesh, stabbing into vital points along her back and neck. Sora had changed the trajectory of her blood senbon mid-air. Another impressive move.

"Hm," I mumbled, crossing my arms. The fight wasn't over. She was getting tired, and fatigue during a fight could prove fatal. This wasn't the time to get sloppy.

And the anxiety of her being in harm's way was proving to be more troublesome than I'd predicted. Interfering was looking like a more appealing option, consequences be damned.

Chino's violet eyes turned feral as she grinned, standing opposite of Sora. She was out for blood. Chino's arm flew up from her side, releasing another wall of shuriken with a single kunai hidden in their wake. The tip of the blade was discolored, but with my waning eyesight I couldn't make out quite what it was. Chakra flooded my eyes in a rageful heat.

The blade of Chino's kunai glowed a pale green through the heightened vision of my Sharingan. I immediately grasped what was happening. Chino had coated the tip of the kunai in blood.

Once a Ketsuryugan user's blood entered their opponents bloodstream, it made it possible for them to control the density and viscosity of the person's blood. It also made it easier to put an opponent under a genjutsu. One of the two options was the girl's objective; her trump card.

Sora leapt a few feet back, snatching her kunai from its sheath around her muscular thigh as she skidded to a stop. Dark purple chakra suddenly surged to her eyes. The sclera went dark set against glowing, icey blue, locking onto the shuriken.

Woah… what kind of dojutsu is that?

Raising a hand, the weapons halted, hovering in the air. A flick of her wrist had them hurdling back at Chino. All except for the single blood stained kunai.

The purple mask of chakra around her eyes wavered. Cringing in pain, a hand came up to press into her temple. She'd overused her eyes–a pain I was all too familiar with. But, she was unaware of the kunai still closing in.

"Sora-chan! Look sharp!' Kisame hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. As if he wasn't already loud enough.

Sora's eyes shot open in alarm. At the last possible moment, she skidded to the left out of the weapons path.

It was too late. The chakra tipped kunai sliced through the flesh just above her hip. Her face twisted with pain. Raising a hand up to cover the wound, blood began to seep through her navy-painted finger. The crowd roared with applause.

Sora's eyes faded back to sea green, shooting open in horror. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. My pulse spiked. The little girl's smile morphed into a malicious grin as her eyes fell closed, then opened. Glowing red irises accompanied by tears of blood streamed down her rosy cheeks.

An inaudible breath of disbelief fell from my lips as I watched the impossible happen. Her heart momentarily stopped beating.

Wait. Did she do that on purpose…?

Hacking and choking a bloody cough, she fell to her knees. A crimson tear trickled down her pale cheek, joining the blood beginning to ooze from her nose.

Chino was a predator stalking her wounded prey. Taking a step forward, her lips pulled into an almost demonic grin.

"Hey," Kisame began while resting his arms on the railing, "what's happening down there?" Pain coursed through my forearms as my fingers dug into the flesh watching the strong shroud of purple chakra begin to fade. At an alarming rate.

"She's been caught in a genjutsu—Chino's Ketsuryugan." I muttered, my heart sinking deeper into the abyss of hopelessness.

"Fuck..." Kisame sighed, "Come on, Sora-chan. Get up."

Blood spilled from between her dainty fingers clutching the gash on her side. With another harsh cough, she doubled over, using a hand to prevent her from collapsing.

No… Sora. Get have to get up.

All the pieces clicked into place as the reality of what was happening struck me. I remembered the day we'd been out training before setting off. It was the first time I'd witnessed the bloody tears. She'd reassured me that she was all right—normal even.

Sora had lied to me.

She was not okay. And she never had been. When she most certainly was not. And she knew that going into the fight. I cursed under my breath, kicking myself for not pushing into it more.

Her opponent was not Chino. It was her own body. And I'd failed in making sure she was okay. A mistake I wouldn't make again. Because I was getting her out of there. Consequences be damned.

Chino was advancing toward her, short blonde hair whirling around in thick tendrils as it flowed with chakra. My hands fell to the railing as I made ready to end the fight myself and get Sora medical attention.

"Itachi…" Kisame placed a hand on my arm. Shooting him a harsh glare, my knuckles turned ghost white gripping the thin metal railing.

His eyes narrowed into a stern glare. I knew that look all too well. I hated when he was right. Blowing our cover and jeopardizing the mission would mean this fight, no matter its outcome, would be in vain.

I could only stand and watch, feeling more useless than a dull blade as Chino stopped directly in front of Sora's hunched over form. A metallic glint from the kunai in her small hand caught my eye. Heaving a ragged breath, Sora tilted her head upwards to regard her opponent.

Chino lifted the kunai, readying her winning blow. With a smirk, Sora raised a kunai, dripping scarlet, up to Chino's throat. She'd fashioned it from the blood pouring from the open wound in her side. Bewildered eyes glowered down at the blood soaked victor. They went dark, a swirling ocean of pure hatred. She didn't seem to pleased to have lost. And she knew En wouldn't be, either.

Thunderous applause rang out. "And the Blood Bandit pulls out the win for the Akatsuki!" The wave of relief never came to ease the nervousness constricting my chest.

She'd done it, yes. But Sora was far from being out of danger. Her chakra was dangerously low. Whatever she'd done tested the limits of her reserves far too close for comfort.

Throwing her ID tag onto the arena floor, Chino huffed off the stage. Sora sputtered another bloody cough and staggered to her feet, dropping the kunai at her feet. Making her way off the stage, she stumbled, nearly collapsing while swaying off balance to one side.

… What did she do to herself?

I resisted the urge to slice the throat of the man walking up behind Kisame and I. "Gentlemen, Oyashiro En requested a word with you and offer his congratulations. Please, make your way towards room 16."

Meeting Kisame's worried eyes, we both vaulted down to the arena floor to retrieve our broken champion. Sora had done her part. En had been lured out of hiding. Besides, we needed to get on with the mission. The longer we lingered, the more likely it was that Orochimaru would make an appearance. Something I was not in the mood to deal with.

A red headed medic nin with glasses beat us, mouthing something to Sora as she wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. Something about it didn't feel right.

I moved to block the path of the tomato haired woman. She halted. Equally red eyes hidden behind thick carnelian glasses glared up at me. "I'll take care of her, pretty boy. I'm the medic nin on staff. So, unless you're a medic, get out of my way." I looked at Sora. She was losing consciousness and blood by the second.

"Where are you taking her?" I prodded. For my own sanity, I at least needed to know where she was going.

"Where do you think? The hospital, big brain. Now, unless you want your little girlfriend to bleed out, MOVE!" The red-head snapped back with an irritated exhale. My eyes narrowed as I reluctantly stepped aside, watching them disappear down one of the shadowy hallways.

Pretty boy? Big brain? Does she have a clue who I am?

For some reason, I couldn't shake the strange feeling that was gnawing at my being. Like taking that small side step was one of the biggest mistakes I could've made in that moment. The doubt would have to simmer on the back burner for a while. Sora needed a trained medic nin, which I was not. I wanted to be the person saving her, but in that moment, I was essentially useless.

Kisame strode up to stand beside me, "Who was that?"

"A medic. She's taking Sora to the local hospital. In the meantime, let's go finish this mission. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get to the hospital." I explained before vaulting up the stairs to the second floor, bound for room 16.