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Chapter 2: million keys tied to a million kites

"The night you thought you were invincible

ran out into the lightning storm

with a million keys

tied to a million kites

and a clench in your jaw

that said, Take me with you dammit

I dare you."

- Date & Time, Phil Kaye

"Sakura, be reasonable," Tsunade says sternly, fork held in mid-air, as she fixes Sakura under her hard stare. "You've got so much potential and you want to waste it by being a nurse all your life?"

Sakura's fist clenches around her own fork. "I'm fine with the way things are."

"That's because you haven't seen how much better they can become," Tsunade argues. "You'll only find out if you give yourself a chance."

"I don't see why I have to!" Sakura snaps, barely managing not to yell. All her muscles are tense, stuck in the flight mode. "I've got a steady job at a good hospital and my life is absolutely fine the way it is. I know that you wanted to see me become a doctor but it's not something I want."

"It's not just me," Tsunade's tone could freeze fire right now. "It was your parent's dream, too."

"Yeah, well, they're dead," Sakura glares. "It doesn't matter what the fuck they wanted."

"LANGUAGE!"

Sakura flinches violently, her fork dropping down to clutter on the half-eaten ceramic plate. Tsunade takes in a deep, steadying breath, closing her eyes. When she opens them, the anger is once more at a low boiling simmer.

"I can't let you waste your life away. I promised to look after you but I can't do that if you won't let me. You don't want to deal with your parents' death like a healthy adult? Fine. But don't you dare act like a bratty teenager in front of me ever again. Are we clear?"

Sakura swallows down the bitter words. Still, the resentment is evident in her tone. "Yes, ma'am."

They resume dinner in tense silence. Sakura's phone beeps on the table but another withering look from Tsunade prevents her from reaching for it. Instead, she stares fixedly on her plate for the rest of the evening.

Half an hour later, Tsunade is escorting her to the door. Sakura turns around to face her once she's past the threshold.

"Well," she mutters awkwardly, "good night. Thank you for the dinner."

Tsunade nods, short and curt. "Go safe."

Sakura gulps, hesitating. Her gaze flicks over Tsunade's leaning form, firm and steady. "I… I know you're just – trying to do your best. I know that."

Tsunade's face crumbles a little but she hitches it back in place almost immediately. "Good."

"I really am alright with my life," Sakura insists, lacing her voice with as much warmth as possible.

The guilt is starting to creep in, though, despite them having had worse arguments over the last few years. Ever since her parents died and Tsunade took over, even though Sakura was already an adult by that point. It hadn't deterred Tsunade in the slightest; she'd regularly checked-in with Sakura, helped her out with money whenever she was in a crunch, and told her Darui was an idiot man who didn't know how lucky he was to have had Sakura.

"That's what I'm worried about," Tsunade grumbles bitterly. "You're alright, Sakura. You're not happy."

"I am," Sakura assures her. "Even if this isn't what you had pictured for me, I am happy."

"Fine," Tsunade sighs. She straightens up to her full height and gathers Sakura in a quick hug, squeezing her tight. "We'll rehash this in another few weeks."

Sakura laughs wetly, returning the hug. Tsunade feels like she always does, warm and motherly, strong. Sakura doesn't know what the fuck she would have done without her.

Eventually, when Sakura stumbles out of the apartment building, her feet are aching. She walks bare-feet to the nearest tube station, swinging her heels in her hands. Once she's sitting with music blaring through her earphones, watching the underground fly past, she checks her phone notification. It's a text message from Ino.

Babe, what are you up to?

Hey. On my way home from Tsunade's.

Ouch.

Come on!

XD well, you wanna join for a beer with the café gang?

Not really up for facing another barrage of complicated, mixed emotions in case Itachi will be there, Sakura jabs on the touch screen rather aggressively.

No. I'm exhausted.

We're in Neiki. You just have to get down two stations earlier. Come on, I know you need one.

BTW Itachi says Temari can drop you off after.

So Itachi is there. That's just – fucking perfect. From the looks of it, he's also trying to make her commute easy. Her fingers clench around the mobile phone and she grits her teeth. Maybe if Itachi were a complete asshole, she might get over her crush that easily.

I don't know any Temari.

She's Itachi's cousin or something and stays in the city so we adopted her.

Fine. Send me the address.

The group is sitting at one of the outdoor tables under strings of yellow fairy lights amongst tall, glass and steel buildings. The streets are devoid of the post-office rush by the time Sakura reaches the small restaurant.

As Sakura manoeuvres, she sees Karin standing off to one side, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She tips her head in acknowledgement. It's so surprising that Sakura nearly stops mid-step. Eventually, she returns the nod before continuing towards the table.

There are two beer towers and everyone looks slightly tipsy already. She can see a few more additions to the group from the last time that she'd met with them. Ino jumps to her feet immediately and flings herself at Sakura before she has a chance to throw out a greeting. Sakura sniggers, stumbling a little in her heels but manages to keep them both steady.

"Hi!" Ino pulls back, beaming. Her cheeks are flushed and her pale blue eyes are swimming with excitement. She leans forward a little and giggles in Sakura's ear, "Sai is here today."

"I'll know it if you let me go."

Ino places a loud, wet kiss on Sakura's cheek and purposefully buries her head in her neck, humming seductively. "I don't want to. You look delicious."

Rising to the challenge, Sakura drums her fingers on Ino's exposed waist and noses her hair at the same time. "In that case, you want to get out of here? I bet we can make Sai jealous enough to finally ask you out."

Ino laughs, exhaling warm breath over Sakura's collarbones. Over her head, Sakura accidentally catches Itachi's gaze and a sudden shiver zings up her spine. He's not smiling but his eyes hold that innate warmth Sakura had witnessed last time. Not to mention the fact that the yellow fairy lights dancing on his features makes Sakura think of a merry Christmas, indeed.

Itachi tilts his mug of beer in a silent greeting. Sakura grins back, now rubbing circles on Ino's lower back as sensuously as she possibly can without bursting out in laughter.

Eventually, Ino drags her to the rest of the group just as Karin returns from her cigarette break. She dumps Sakura in a chair between a blonde babe and Konan before taking her place beside a pale man who Sakura now assumes must be Sai.

Sai is – he's a wall of brick. There's just no other way to describe him. It's so jarring because Ino's face goes through at least five different emotions in just as many minutes, and Sakura tries not to show how wrong-footed she feels by it.

Naruto is sitting on the other side beside Itachi's lookalike. He's holding Sasuke's hand on the table while drinking his beer with the other. Sasuke seems to be younger, at least by appearance, and Sakura is proven right when he calls Itachi "Aniki" in the middle of their conversation.

The blonde babe beside Sakura turns out to be Temari. She doesn't live near Sakura exactly but assures her that she can absolutely swing by to drop her off, no problems.

Someone pours her a glass and Konan thrusts it in her hands. "Ino said you might need one."

"Thanks."

Karin raises her eyebrows. "Did someone die?"

"Yeah, her parents," Naruto tells her. "When she was in college."

"Shit. Sorry to hear that," Temari offers sympathetically.

"Was it terrible?" Sai enquires with a poker face. "You don't look appropriately crushed enough."

Before Sakura can point out the hypocrisy in that, Ino nudges him in the side. "It was in college, Sai. And she had dinner with her godmother tonight. Tsunade is a scary woman."

"No, she's not," Sakura defends. "She's just looking out for me. Sometimes, she can get a little carried away, that's all."

"Why do you need looking out for?" Temari asks curiously. "Are you living an unhappy life?"

"See?" Naruto crows. "I told you there's a story in there somewhere."

"Are you all always so nosy?" Sakura asks and takes a long gulp of her beer, almost finishing half the glass. It's cold, freezing her throat in two seconds flat. Jesus Christ.

Itachi lets out a deep chuckle but doesn't say anything. His head is bent over his mug.

"You can just tell everyone to fuck off–"

"That includes you, Karin–"

"I'm not that nosy, to be fair–"

"Ha! Naruto, please tell me you're joking–"

"Hey, he's always nice about it–"

"You'll think that, obviously, otherwise no dick for you–"

"Can we stop talking about dicks in relation to my brother–"

"Grow up, Itachi! We all know what goes on behind closed doors–"

"Fine, we'll talk about Naruto's dick–"

"I'd appreciate it if you could all stop talking about my boyfriend's genitals–"

"Babe, they're just jealous, especially Ino–"

"Shut up! I told you we can fucking bet on it–"

"Bet on what?"

"Sai, you've got to hear this–"

"Karin, DON'T–"

Sakura finishes the rest of her beer languidly. She regrets not having popcorn but settles for the snacks they've already ordered. The nachos have gone soggy but that's alright. The salsa more than makes up for it.

It takes another few minutes of bickering and Ino actually slapping her hand on Karin's mouth for everyone to settle down. Sakura, again, accidentally catches Itachi's eye and he throws her a light grin. Sakura returns it.

"Naruto," Sai begins at one point, "I want you to paint me naked."

Naruto looks like a deer caught in headlights. Konan and Temari crack up as he stammers out a nervous laugh that fools absolutely no one. "Oh. Um, why?"

"I rather like my penis," Sai explains seriously. Beside him, Ino chokes on her beer.

"Prove it," Sakura blurts out without thinking.

There's a brief moment of silence and then everyone cracks up all over again. Temari slings her arm around Sakura's shoulders, shaking with the force of her giggles.

"Oh my god, please don't," Sasuke pleads over the noise, covering his eyes with his hand.

"I bet he proves it every time after meeting Ino–"

"I bet Ino wants him to prove it at this point–"

"If I ask you the shape and size, will you actually tell me–"

"Get a grip, Karin–"

"I'm just curious. Don't tell me you aren't–"

"Why do we always have to talk about someone's dick–"

"Just because you're straight as an arrow, Itachi–"

"You know, you could be homophobic–"

"What? I'm not homophobic–"

"Yeah? Then why do you always complain whenever we talk about dicks–"

"What if we talk about vaginas or boobs–"

"Izumi's vagina or boobs, in particular–"

"Uh oh, he doesn't like that, either–"

"I'm just trying to respect everyone's privacy–"

"Konan, you might know all about Itachi's penis–"

"Oh my god, that's my brother–"

"Babe, plug in your ears–"

Sakura doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. She really, really doesn't need to know about Itachi's dick on top of everything else. Fuck, maybe she should ask Ino to hook her up with someone.

"You know," Sakura says loudly before anyone can go into any more details, "I think it's only fair for you all to tell me about terrible shit now that you know about my dead parents."

There's another brief pause in their bickering.

Konan breaks it. "Well, that's fair. My high school boyfriend… he – uh – died in a car accident. We were… we were planning on – stuff."

"Oh shit."

"Well, you asked for it," Karin says bitchily, rolling her eyes. "Mine wanted me to become a doctor. I became this, instead." She waves her right hand over her left arm, which is inked in a variety of designs from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder. "They aren't happy about it. I haven't spoken with them in… well, a long time."

"I lost my emotional dog," Sai states.

"Aww, when?" Naruto croons. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Ino hooks their elbows together, rubbing his arm in a soothing manner.

"It only happened a week ago," Sai says. "I'm still trying to adjust."

"I have a pretty happy life," Temari declares.

Sasuke sniggers. "Oh, please. I've watched you botch your parents' anniversary every year for Gaara's sake–"

"Well, they had it coming," Temari shrugs. At Sakura's expectant face, she explains, "Gaara is my baby brother. He's still in high school and my parents never bothered to learn the concept of autism. Every year, they throw this huge party with loud music and shit ton of people. And then when Gaara has a meltdown, understandably so, they yell at him more as if that's going to help matters. It's only fair I yell at them in return."

"You already know a lot about me," Ino shrugs.

"That's not fair, you still have to say something," Konan tells her.

"Fine, fine. Well, I've struggled with depression for almost my whole life. It's why I got into dancing, in the first place. It helps."

"This is getting pretty sad–"

"Blame the new girl–"

"No one needs to be blamed–"

"She was right in demanding it–"

"You still haven't said anything, Itachi–"

"Neither has Sasuke–"

"You're deflecting, Aniki–"

"Really? What gave me away–"

"Come on, guys, the new girl is waiting–"

"No one here can focus for shit, I swear–"

"You're one to talk, Karin–"

"Please, I can give Buddhists monks a run for their money–"

"It's true. I've seen her working–"

"We're doing it again! Sasuke, Itachi, whoever, your turn–"

Sasuke perks up. "Itachi's struggling with his butterfly stroke–"

"I'm not struggling with the stroke–"

"He's still not able to swim as fast as he wants–"

"It's not enough for the competitions–"

"This is apart from the fact that he's broke as fuck, has a wedding to plan–"

"His girlfriend is ten hours away–"

"And his coach is a maniac–"

"And then there was the injury–"

"He's already past his peak of swimming years–"

"Yeah, he's like an old man now–"

Itachi is half laughing, half groaning by now. "Stop, stop."

"Sasuke?"

"Ugh, fine. Well, I hate my job but it's something I'm good at so–"

"What do you do?"

"I'm in IT but I'm thinking of switching, which sounds like a complete pain in the ass–"

"You're used to pain in your ass, Sasuke–"

"Aaaaand we're back–"

By the time the two towers of beer finish and all the food disappears, Sakura feels pretty damn good about her life. She exchanges contact numbers with Konan and promises to stay in touch. Even when Naruto asks her, quite loudly, whether she's thought about posing nude for him, Sakura only shrugs and says she forgot to think over it.

She resolutely doesn't look at Itachi during that bit.

Sakura finds herself giving out quick side-hugs to everyone when they're bidding goodbyes, including Karin and Sai. When she approaches Itachi, her heart hammers and she feels somehow content at the same time. Itachi wraps one long arm around her shoulder and she snakes one around his waist due to sheer height difference. He squeezes once lightly and lets go, grinning down at her.

Temari starts to lead her to her parked car around the block. The streets are empty by now. As they stumble in their heels, elbows hooked, Temari complains about how her commute is always a bitch because they always meet in Neiki or around it.

"Itachi hates to commute and he manages to convince the others every single time," she grumbles miserably. "He doesn't even visit Izumi all that much."

"She doesn't mind it?"

"Nah," Temari waves the question away. "She knows Itachi all too well to be bothered by such stuff. Besides, I assume he more than makes up for it when she visits."

Temari starts giggling at her own remark and Sakura tries to grin. She's quite certain it comes out as a grimace. Sure, she's happy for the couple or whatever but it never meant she enjoys listening about it.

You barely know him, you barely know him, you barely know him.

That's her new mantra. Sakura might recall his innately warm, dark gaze and his easy smile perfectly but it doesn't mean she knows him. Not the way Izumi does. Not the way the others do. And it would be in her best interest if she avoids knowing him entirely. This way, he could be the best man she'd have ever known or the worst. Or he could be extraordinarily average, boring as fuck, and a complete loser. The trick is to live in absolute mystery.

Actually, he seems to be a hard working man.

Shut the fuck up. You barely know him.

"So," Sakura begins brightly, "are you okay to drive?"

"Yeah, don't worry," Temari assures her. "I barely drank."

"You're not exactly walking straight."

"It's my feet. Hang on."

Temari stops, forcing Sakura to stop, too. She gets rid of her heels and Sakura follows suit. They carry their footwear in their hands, absently tracing a path on the pavement that diverges and converges at intervals, giggling when it happens for the third time in a row.

At one point, Temari asks, "You want to go for a movie sometime?"

"Like a date?"

"No. I just want company and no one else is all that interested."

"When do you plan on going?"

"If you're going to come, we'll compare schedules."

"Alright, I'll text you."

Temari clicks the button on her keys and a red Honda beeps down the road. "Would you have come if it were a date?"

"Maybe. I've never gone on dates with women, so I guess I would have found out if I enjoyed it. Would you have asked me on a date?"

"Maybe," she says, giggling. "I've never asked out women on dates, so maybe I would have found out if I enjoyed it, too."

"We should take some tips from the internet," Sakura nods wisely. "Just in case things get out of hand in the dark theatre."

"Good point," Temari agrees, biting down on a grin. "You're rather easy on the eyes. Who knows if I can keep my hands to myself? Or my tongue?"

"Who knows if you can keep your tongue above my waist," Sakura says as flippantly as possible.

"Exactly," Temari hums. "I could find out if the curtains match the drapes."

By the time they reach the car, they're practically falling over by laughing so hard. Inside the car, Temari plugs in her phone and tosses it to Sakura.

"Play whatever."

Sakura scrolls through the list of music before settling on a lo-fi playlist. She rests her head on the window and watches the buildings fly past.

"Hey," Temari asks after ten minutes, "you good?"

Twisting her neck around, Sakura throws a quick, reassuring smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

"Okay."

The music is rather soothing on Sakura's frazzled nerves. When she can't help herself anymore, the unbidden recollections of Itachi's grins invade her mind. He just does it so easily, despite everything, that it made Sakura want to look at him in wonder all night long. They hadn't spoken directly with each other much, and yet, she'd exchanged quick grins and exasperated laughter more than a few times with him, eyes dancing with mirth. Now, now, it feels like maybe she'd crossed some boundary. Maybe she shouldn't lock eyes with a taken man and feel so good about it.

Temari leaves her alone for the duration of the drive, except to ask for directions, and Sakura is grateful for that. Once under her apartment building, Sakura faces Temari with a tired smile.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem." She hesitates, so Sakura waits. "There's – uh. Something I wanted to try."

Confused but curious, she prompts, "Yeah?"

Temari starts to lean forward, chin tilted, a clear invitation and a question wrapped up nicely with a red bow. Sakura's eyes widen. She doesn't move back, heart hammering inside her chest. Her eyes flick over Temari's features: the light blonde hair, pale green eyes, the pointed chin, high cheekbones. Without thinking it through, Sakura closes the distance, pressing her lips to hers.

It's a tentative kiss at first, brushing against the other in light, experimental touches. But it feels good so Sakura swipes a tongue out and it snowballs from there. Five minutes later, they're panting harshly, lips swollen, eyes bright.

Sakura clears her throat, pulling back. "Well, that was – something."

Temari smirks, then laughs. "Yeah, something. I'll see you for the movie."

When Sakura opens the door to her empty flat, she's grinning.

Sakura opens the locker, humming Spirits in the Sky under her breath.

"What has you all dopey this morning?"

Hinata is opening her own locker to change into the uniform. Sakura turns the other way, giving Hinata her privacy. The woman is naturally endowed and after last night, Sakura is sort of craving more action rather than feeling sated. She wonders if she can actually text Temari for another round.

"Nothing at all."

"Sure, I believe you," Hinata giggles. "Granted, I can only see the back of your neck right now but even that's red."

Sakura peeks over her shoulder to make sure Hinata is dressed before facing her properly. "I think I got asked out by a woman."

Hinata grins. "Really? That's wonderful. Are you going to go?"

"Maybe?" Sakura shrugs. She proceeds to explain how the girl is the cousin of her latest crush on a man who is engaged to his long-distance childhood sweetheart.

By the end of it, Hinata is staring blankly. She snaps out of it and frowns. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"It didn't seem as bad at the time," she admits sheepishly. "But saying it out loud… fuck, Hinata. I'm so fucked up."

"You're not," Hinata insists immediately. "I do think you should slow down and really think what you're doing. I mean, this cousin? You don't want to lead her on, do you?"

"She's not… I mean, she's nice? She seems great, actually. What if I end up with her? What if she's the one I'm meant to be with and Itachi is just a distraction?"

"Or it's the other way around. Or maybe you're not meant to be with either."

"Or both," Sakura suggests.

Hinata's eyebrows shoot up.

Sakura sighs. "Fuck. Maybe I should just stay away from all humanity."

Hinata's laughter echoes in the empty locker room and Sakura, feeling better now, winks. "Don't be so dramatic. Just talk to her."

"Or," Sakura holds up one finger in emphasis, "I sleep with Ino's crush next."

"Sakura!" Hinata continues to giggle helplessly and it spurs Sakura further.

"Or what if something saucy happens when I'm naked with Naruto? Maybe with enough seduction, I could turn him straight. Then we'll run away together and break Sasuke's heart and Itachi will hate me so much that it'd be easy to get over him."

Hinata is gasping by now. "You need – ugh, you need to get laid."

"Are you offering? I mean, I could be a lesbian for all I know and repressed my wild sexual desires for fear of ostracise. Your husband might murder me, sure, but that's the price to pay for two star crossed lovers to stay happily ever after."

Sakura continues to spin obnoxiously wild fantasies all the way to their reporting desk. She only stops when the new receptionist gives her a weird look when Sakura is detailing how she might rob a bank so that Hinata doesn't have to work on their private hidden island.

She's on her lunch break when she finally checks her phone. There's a message from Temari and another one from Konan.

Temari says, I hope you're not backing out from the movie. I really do need company.

Konan has sent, Hey, we should meet up sometime soon after work for a coffee.

Sakura blinks down at her screen. "Am I giving out lesbian vibes? Am I really a repressed lesbian and never realised?"

Hinata analyses her from across the table. "Hmm. I don't know. Maybe you should think of that man–"

"Itachi–"

"Yes, him. See if it excites you."

Sakura does. She imagines Itachi's slim hips clad in faded denim, the pronounced tear troughs, the long hair tied in a low ponytail. His easy smile and his innately warm gaze, her skin searing like a zap of thunder during cold, dark nights. His swimmer's tan speckled under yellow fairy lights, the flush of beer on his cheekbones. The long column of his throat and collarbones peeking from his grey hoodie.

She swallows. "Nope, still fucked."

Hinata smiles kindly. "Well, there you go."

Uchiha Itachi (uchiha_itachi) requested to follow you.

Sakura trips, crashing painfully on her hands and knees in the middle of a busy pavement. Her phone clatters a few feet away. The hot coffee spills on her left hand, burning her skin, and she curses so loudly that a nearby mother of two gives her one of the worst stink eyes she's ever gotten, including Tsunade's wide variety.

Sakura looks right at the mother, chin lifting. "Shit, goddamnit, son of a fucking bitch–"

The woman, scandalised, hurries to cross the street. Both of her hands are shielding her kids' faces as though not looking at Sakura will ensure they won't hear anything.

Someone politely returns her the phone, nevertheless. It's a handsome brown-haired man, the kind who'd be good enough for a magazine cover. He's donned in casual green leather jacket, dark pants, and he's even got sunglasses on against the mild afternoon sun.

He's also grinning a toothless smile that only manages to increase his charm. "Nice."

Sakura takes his hand and rises to her feet. She shakes her other hand to get rid of the coffee but he offers her a handkerchief like an absolute gentleman. "Thanks."

"No problem. Is your hand okay?"

"Ah, it'll be fine. I'll put some ointment on it later."

He doesn't leave. Instead, he openly checks her out, tipping his chin from her hair piled on top of her head down to her sandaled feet.

Sakura clears her throat. "Like what you see?"

He smirks. "Yes. You think I give my handkerchief to any lady?"

"And here I thought you were just being a nice person."

"I'm a guy," he points out, raising her eyebrows, "and you're a girl."

Sakura gives a serious nod. "The sky is blue and your chance you blew."

"I doubt it," he says confidently. "I know what women like you want. No modest lady goes around cursing like a man. You're obviously looking for someone to fuck you hard and dirty in the back of a shop."

He's taller than she is by a few inches but not too tall. Broad shoulders and thick triceps strain under the sleeves of his leather jacket. Definitely works out regularly. He absolutely has the strength to do well on his promise if Sakura agrees to it.

It's a quick decision after that.

"You punched him?"

Ino stares at her as if Sakura has grown a second head. She'd taken one look at both her bandaged hands and refused to begin their Zumba session without an explanation first.

"What was I supposed to do?" Sakura defends stubbornly. "Find the back of a shop?"

Ino throws up her hands in frustration and bites out in impressive sarcasm, "Oh, I don't know – leave? You know, walk away?" She starts counting on her fingers, "Not screw up your hand, piss off Tsunade, and be put on mandatory leave until your hand heals?"

"Someone would have punched him eventually," Sakura justifies and then adds darkly under her breath. "Someone should have punched him eventually."

"Jesus Christ," Ino rubs a hand down her face.

"It's not so bad," Sakura offers helpfully, flexing her fingers lightly in Ino's face. It motherfucking hurts. "See? It'll be better in no time."

"You sprained your middle finger," Ino points out exasperatedly.

"Ah, yes," Sakura sighs. Her shoulders slump. "I was hoping to use them this weekend."

"What the fuck?"

"I didn't tell you?" Sakura perks up immediately, almost bouncing in her excitement. "I might be a lesbian!"

Ino stares for a few seconds. "You're not a lesbian. Sakura, I've watched you positively drool over Genma for weeks before you two dated. Every time he removed his shirt, you ran another mile on the treadmill."

"I was the fittest I've ever been during that time," Sakura sighs in reminiscence, eyes glazing over by the memories. Genma was the hottest guy she'd banged. Shame, he was dumb as a tool. The sex life could only float their relationship for so long.

"You can't be a lesbian," Ino repeats, shaking her head. "Anyway, let's begin. I'm not even getting paid to do this and now we're late."

Sakura blows her a kiss. "You're the best."

The black rectangular device is taunting her.

Sakura exhales in frustration, resolutely turning her head away to focus on the television instead. It doesn't help; she can feel the heated gaze of her phone on the couch cushion beside her. On the screen, Kristen Stewart is storming away from her girlfriend in righteous anger.

"That's my girl," Sakura cheers. "You show 'em, tiger!"

When the end credits roll, Sakura can't help it anymore. She grabs at the phone in a rage, cursing herself to the moon, and opens up Itachi's follow request that she still hadn't accepted. A flare of pain shoots up her hand when she accidentally jabs at the screen with more force than is strictly necessary. And then she hits the "Follow Back" button.

It is accepted right away. Fuck.

Sakura does the obvious step next: stalk his profile. Most of them are short videos or reels of him swimming. In some of them, he's demonstrating techniques for different strokes, which is rather informational and helpful. By the time she's viewed five videos, she doesn't blame Konan for spending an hour every morning ogling him in his speedo.

See, the thing is, healthy and athletic individuals are like rare and precious treasure in her line of work. They're someone to be protected at all costs before the rest of the world catches up to them. Itachi, for his credit, seems to be in shape, clinically speaking of course, and it's so attractive that Sakura has to shut her eyes and scold herself.

He's taken, he's taken, he's taken.

She clicks back on the tab for the posts. A silver-haired handsome man appears in a few, who, Sakura deduces is the "maniac coach" based on Itachi's captions. A few of them are group photographs; she can recognize the "café gang". Some are only with Sasuke and Naruto, some are only with Konan with swimming pools in the background, some are with people she doesn't recognize, some are of beautiful sunsets, and then she comes across a hauntingly beautiful selfie: it's one of those black-and-white close ups that have the perfect light, perfect angle, and perfect barely-there smile.

Eventually, she finds what she's looking for.

Izumi is a gentle, soft-looking woman, the kind who'd greet the new neighbours with home-cooked chocolate cookies. She has dark brown hair and dark eyes, a delicate figure, and a stunning smile. Itachi looks happy with her. He looks like a man in love.

Sakura positively feels like an undignified slob next to her and then hates herself for even comparing.

A new notification banner snaps her attention back to the phone screen: Uchiha Itachi liked your photo.

It's the one she posted earlier that day, holding up both her bandaged hands and grinning widely in the camera. It had taken a lot of insistence on her part to convince Ino to snap the picture. Apparently, writing "war wounds" as a caption can become quite controversial.

And then less than ten seconds later, another banner alert slides down the top of her screen. It's a text message from Itachi.

War wound?

She takes a deep, steadying breath before opening up the chat box. I punched a jerk in the face. It sprained my finger.

WHAT?

He was being very jerk-like.

LMAO Did you patch him up after punching him?

Nah he ran away when people started to crowd around us.

So this was in PUBLIC?

Yes.

Haha!

Sakura's fingertips hover over her screen. After a few moments, she sighs, going back without replying further. Itachi doesn't send another text, either.

She picks up a throw pillow and screams into it.

Update cycle is approximately one week. :)