Chapter Twelve
Searching for something

Sakura peered out the window of the cab. With her forehead nearly touching the cool glass, she gazed up at the snow flurries drift down from the strangely bright night sky. Cold powder filled in every inch of the city, sticking to the sidewalks and layering on top of the trees. Plow trucks had cleared the streets, leaving ice behind in their path. Like raging currents in a black river frozen in a single moment in time, it cut through the pavement.

Sakura took in all of it, wondering when the last time she had seen snow. It was beautiful. White covered up the grey. Old and dingy turned crisp and sparkling. A hush had fallen over the city like all were holding their breath in awe.

It reminded her of Russia. She didn't recall much of her childhood there. Just bits and pieces. Like those days she stood on her bed to look out over the yard where the older kids threw snowballs at one another, shouting and screaming. The nights she stayed up, drawing in the ice that clung to the windows with her fingertip. The taste of hot chocolate at midnight. She didn't remember which kid had stolen it from the kitchen; only recalled the comfort it had brought her.

Sometimes Sakura wondered what happened to those other kids. Wondered how many of them had been rescued from that tiny building and adopted like her. Wondered how many of them had been discarded into the streets, left to scrape for money and fall victim to drug addiction. The life she would have lived had she been one of the unlucky ones.

The cab rolled to a stop then. Blinking herself out of her thoughts, Sakura looked out the window to find they had arrived at her destination. Wordlessly, she paid the driver before she slipped out of the car.

The lobby was far warmer than the biting winds outside. Almost immediately, Sakura began unbuttoning her winter jacket as she headed towards the elevator. Inside, she punched the correct codes into the keypad before the lift began to move. It opened up on the top floor to a small entryway with only one door. Sakura knocked once and waited patiently, passing the time by pulling her hair out of the collar of her jacket. She inspected the ends. Still a little fascinated at seeing it so short after cutting it a few weeks ago.

As soon as the door opened, Sakura released her locks and smiled.

Tobirama stared, bewildered. "You're not dead."

"Am I supposed to be?" she asked.

He shot her a look. "You disappeared for two months." There was a hint of annoyance and something she couldn't quite place in his tone.

Sakura shrugged nonchalantly. "I had business to attend to. And you were still getting your orders. All is well."

When Tobirama just continued to scowl, she sighed. "Don't look at me like that. I need to speak to Hashirama. Is he still here?" she asked, her eyes flicking past him.

For an instant, Sakura thought they were just going to continue to stand in the hall with Tobirama half-glaring at her. Then he stepped aside, that frown still on his face. She hid her smile as she slipped past him.

The penthouse was warmer than the hall but Sakura didn't move to remove her winter coat. She left it unbuttoned, hanging on her shoulders as she ventured further inside. Nothing had changed since her last visit. Everything was clean, crisp, sterile. She could have run a white glove across the hardwood and have it come up clean.

She followed Tobirama when he headed down the entrance hall. Conversation floated towards her from elsewhere in the penthouse. She couldn't make out the words but she recognized Hashirama's voice. Rounding the corner, she found everyone was there. Hashirama, Madara and Izuna were all in the sitting area before the grand view of the city. Each sporting a crystal glass, a bottle of brandy on the center table.

Upon sight of her, Hashirama paused in whatever he was saying. The Uchiha brothers followed his gaze. Izuna's face darkened as his eyes landed on her. Sakura resisted the urge to smirk when she saw he was in the very chair she and Tobirama had both occupied that night a few months ago.

"Evening, gentlemen," she smiled pleasantly. "And Izuna."

His glare darkened but Hashirama spoke before he could retort, "Sakura, isn't this a pleasant surprise."

"What? Did you think I had died too?" she teased.

Something silent passed behind his eyes. She got the impression that he had in fact thought something had happened to her, but there was no relief to find her standing there. There was no anything.

Then he smiled and gestured towards the table. "Come join us. Would you like a drink?"

Sakura glanced at Tobirama out of the corner of her eye but he showed no offense at his brother taking the initiative. "No, thank you," she declined politely. Like she would ever be anything than at her sharpest with this company. "I don't want to intrude. I just wanted to share some information that I think you might find of interest."

Hashirama arched his brow. "And what might that be?"

"Sasori of Akatsuki is dead."

Silence met her words. All four men regarded her, their stares heavy. The sudden stillness to the room was even heavier.

"You're certain?" Hashirama asked at last, just the faintest note of surprise in his tone.

"Very."

Izuna's eyes narrowed in challenge. "How do you know?"

Slipping her gaze to the younger Uchiha brother, she eyed him like an annoying child. "Because I killed him."

He cocked his brow, his eyes raking up and down her form. The doubt was written all over his face. "You? How?"

"I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration," she said icily. Her smile was even colder.

Izuna glared but wasn't given the opportunity to rise to her threat as Hashirama hummed, his mouth pursed in thought. "Sasori was leading Akatsuki's expansion of Newark. If he is indeed gone, now would be the perfect opportunity to move in." He fell quiet again as he mulled his next plans over. Then his eyes flickered to Tobirama. "Do we have enough men to support an expansion?"

Beside her, Tobirama nodded thoughtfully. "I could have enough by the end of the week."

"And I can get them arms," Sakura added.

A pleased smile crossed Hashirama's face.

Izuna and Madara left soon after that, whatever business they had been discussing put aside for now. The night stretched on as the conversation moved onto the planning phase. At some point, Sakura had removed her jacket, leaving her in a flowing, long-sleeved cardigan. Tobirama moved to sit in one of the chairs beside his brother but she remained standing, her lower back pressing into the end of the kitchen counter. She was more comfortable this way.

A little after midnight, they concluded their business. Hashirama excused himself, his ever calculating gaze bouncing between the two. Sakura purposely ignored him. The condo went quiet after his departure, only the soft hum of the fridge to fill the silence.

She stared across the room. Out the window at the artificial lights on the black horizon. Tobirama watched her as he finished his drink, sipping the brandy slowly. Savoring it. The glass clinked quietly as he set it down on the table.

"Are you staying?" he asked eventually.

Sakura pulled her eyes away from the city to gaze at him. "Do you want me to leave?"

When he looked at her, his answer was clear. She didn't move. Simply waited for him to come to her. His mouth moved roughly against hers when they finally met. His fingers finding purchase in her hair to pick up where she had left him all those weeks ago.

Even with all their brief time apart, it surprised her how familiar he was. She recognized his touch and taste. Even the subtle scent of his soap and shampoo was something she had come to know. A touch of something familiar in a city that was not her own. It was borderline dangerous. But then again so was every other aspect of her life. Why wouldn't her men be as well?

A low groan passed Sakura's lips as Tobirama used the grip in her hair to jerk her head back, his teeth attacking the flesh of her throat. He ground himself against her, abruptly putting pressure on sensitive skin. Sakura inhaled sharply.

Immediately Tobirama stilled, recognizing that sound not of pleasure but rather pain. He pulled back and read the look on her face. Watched the fleeting wince fade from her expression. He didn't move. Instead, his eyes travelled over her slowly, pausing when they fell to the fading red mark across her forearm.

Pushing her sleeve out of the way, Tobirama held up her arm to get a better look. In a few more weeks, it would be nothing but a scar. He studied the wound for a long moment before he looked at her. When she just stared back, his gaze dropped down as if trying to see what other marks might be blemishing her skin beneath her clothes. Without waiting for permission, he pulled her cardigan off, leaving it bunched on the counter before he pulled her shirt up. Just high enough to see the white square of gauze over her stomach.

Tobirama stared at it, the tension so thick it was hard to breathe. "It didn't take you two months to track down Sasori."

It wasn't a question but Sakura knew he was looking for an answer. "No."

It had taken her a week. And another one to finally corner him. The fight had been quick but bloody. She had taken Sasori by surprise but he was quick and strong for someone so lean. The knife hidden in his back pocket had managed to catch her twice before she turned it against him. She could still feel the gush of blood between her fingers when the blade severed his carotid artery. Hot and sticky. Dark crimson had spread across the dusty floor in the backroom of that bar in Cairo and soaked into her jeans.

In the immediate aftermath, she hadn't felt her own injury. Not until Kakashi had burst into the room and hauled her off the floor before rushing her to the hospital. It was fortunate the blade had missed anything vital but it had still taken several weeks for the muscle to heal. She had stayed in Egypt for six weeks, coordinating with Naruto and Neji to get her shipments where they needed to go as she mended. Kakashi had stayed with her the entire time, refusing to leave her side in case she did something else he deemed stupid.

'How am I supposed to keep you alive when you're out here trying to kill yourself?' Kakashi had snapped more than once.

Tobirama looked like he had a similar retort on his tongue but he withheld it. Instead he frowned. "You're either the bravest chick I've ever met, or you have a death wish."

A hollow feeling carved itself out in Sakura's chest. She hid it behind a laugh. "Probably a little of both."

He didn't laugh with her but his mouth returned to hers, his hands moving more carefully lest there were any more injuries she wasn't telling him. He carried her to the bedroom before he finished pulling the rest of her clothes off. When he finally pushed inside her, he set a slow, deep pace. His hips grinding forward before slowly withdrawing. Her shaking breaths echoed in the room as she clung to him. Clung to anything. It was a long build to orgasm.

Afterward, Sakura laid on her side. Unable to sleep, she stared out the window to the city beyond, counting the planes that briefly passed between the crack in the curtains. She knew Tobirama wasn't asleep when she finally got up. She didn't look at him as she dressed and he didn't say anything before she slipped out of the room.

xx

The week Sakura had moved to New York she had found a nice hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It was tucked between two large businesses, making it easy to miss the first dozen times. Sakura herself had walked by it three times before she dipped inside to check it out.

It was a high end but quiet place. There was hardly anyone ever inside but they served everything from breakfast to dessert with coffee or a glass of expensive whiskey. Sakura ordered herself a shot of tequila and sat at the bar by herself.

The bartender came by only once to refill her glass, never asking any questions or lingering for too long. She got the impression he was used to being seen and not heard. A place left open all hours to serve the one-percent: the businessmen and women, and political figures who had worked late into the night or had an early meeting.

At precisely three in the morning, Itachi slid into the stool beside her. They didn't speak until the bartender had brought Itachi his drink order. A glass of Casa Noble Crystal tequila.

Sakura eyed it curiously. "I had assumed red wine would be more suited to your tastes."

The ice in his glass clinked together as he lowered the crystal. "I figured this conversation would call for something with a little more kick to it."

Sakura smiled faintly but didn't reply as she tossed back her shot. Her glass hit the polished countertop with muted thud, drawing the eye of the bartender. He cocked his brow in question but she shook her head once. Two shots would have to satisfy her for now.

"I must say I am a little surprised to see you. Alive," Itachi eventually said.

"Oh?" Sakura asked. She half turned on her stool to gaze at him, her elbow on the counter and her head in her hand. He looked good in his dark jeans and grey, long sleeved shirt. His winter jacket was draped over the back of his stool.

Itachi stared right back at her, his face unreadable except for the small downward pull in the corner of his mouth. "I didn't give you that information on Sasori so you could immediately go gallivanting after him. "

She shrugged unapologetically. "All we agreed was Madara for Akatsuki. What I do with the information you provide is up to me."

"And your usefulness to me ends with you dead," he countered, eyeing the pink mark that peeked out from her sleeve.

Sakura couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "Is that why you asked to meet?"

"I led you right to Sasori," he reminded her needlessly. "Give me something in return."

When Sakura remained quiet, Itachi adjusted in his chair to face her more fully. "This isn't a game, Sakura," he said, his voice laced with steel.

He set his drink down, the crystal hitting the counter with a little force. It echoed in the otherwise quiet room. The bartender looked down at them but when he saw Sakura's smile, he returned to what he was doing. Then instant he was no longer looking, the curve on her lips vanished.

"No," she agreed. Something cold twisted and gnarled in her stomach. "Games are fun. And this is not."

There was a sharpness to his gaze that unnerved her. Sakura was not unfamiliar with dangerous men, but there was something about Itachi she couldn't quite place. A hidden presence. Something that lurked in the shadows, just out of sight.

Sakura looked away. Instead, she tapped her nail against her shotglass, listening to it ring. She weighed her next decision carefully, well aware she had already crossed a very dangerous line. Her next words would send her even further down this rabbit hole.

"What do you know about Madara's current whereabouts?" she asked eventually.

The tension between them faded upon her question. Beside her, Itachi relaxed minutely. "Our sources say he is in Hong Kong."

"Your sources are wrong," she told him. When his gaze turned curious, she supplied, "Madara is in New York. I saw him five hours ago."

"What would Madara be doing here?"

Sakura shrugged. "Probably the same thing he's been doing since he got here. Strengthening his alliance with Hashirama."

"Hashirama?" Itachi repeated slowly. "Senju Hashirama?"

"Another thing your company was wrong about," she said. Not quite smug but almost. "I have no business with Madara. Hashirama is the only one I care about."

A thoughtful but troubled look fell over Itachi's face. He sat back in his stool, one hand still loosely grasping his glass. The other brushed through his bangs idly. "Hashirama is one of the most powerful businessmen in the world. If they're in partnership, our task just became more difficult."

"Unless you take both of them out."

He blinked before fixing her with a stare, as if trying to ascertain the meaning behind her words. When he found nothing but blatant fact, he shook his head. "Madara is our only goal."

Sakura cocked her brow, wondering if she heard a double meaning. "You make it sound as if the CIA wants to take Madara alive."

Itachi's face wiped completely blank. She hadn't really expected him to answer, but she was beginning to wonder if his lack of reaction was a reaction in and of itself.

She eyed him curiously. This time she was the one to turn in her chair to face him. "Exactly what information did Madara sell to the Russians?" she prodded carefully.

He just stared back, leaving her question to hang in the air. Again, Sakura didn't expected him to answer, but she continued to study him for a minute more. Wondering what thoughts might be flitting behind that stoic face. If he was really as noble as he made himself out to be.

In the end, she never got an answer. Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Sakura called the bartender over to refill her glass. She could already feel the last two shots beginning to move through her veins but she was in definite need of a third.

It was only after they had both finished their drinks and had been sitting in silence for some minutes that Sakura spoke again, "Madara put a tracking device on me a few months ago. I sent it out to a contact but he seems to be having some trouble tracing it back. Perhaps you and your team will have a little better luck."

Itachi didn't reply but he watched her as she stood from her stool. She slipped her arms through her winter jacket and was about to make her leave when Itachi stopped her, "Do not look so disappointed. I want this arrangement just as much as you do."

Sakura finished straightening the collar of her jacket before she turned to him. "Do not mistake this for disappointment, Itachi. I laid the brick for the road I walk."

To her surprise, a faint smile passed his lips. It warmed his usually impassive face. So much so that Sakura couldn't help but stare.

"People don't really talk that way here," he told her not unkindly. "Your accent may be American, but your speech is Arabic."

"Perhaps they should," she told him quietly. She leaned towards him to brush her fingers along his jaw in a featherlight caress. Just enough to feel the scratch of his day-old stubble. "It might soften those rough, New York edges."

To her surprise, Itachi just continued to watch her with that subtle smile. Like he was looking through her as if she were made of glass. Able to see all that she was thinking. All that she was feeling.

Sakura let her hand fall away as she straightened, unable to share that intimate space with him any longer. Instead, she nodded towards her shot glass. "Your turn to buy."

And before Itachi could argue, she was out the door, back into the cold night.

to be continued...

To those readers nitpicking about errors, I remind you that this is free content. To the rest of my reviewers, thank you for your comments - they are appreciated! Hope you enjoyed. (So far this chapter was the most difficult to write?)