Author's Note: Oh goodness. I'm so depressed. Nobody reviewed the last chapter… Does that mean I'm bad?

-ANGST-

Parings: InoxItachi (ish)

Warnings: Just some bad language from my favourite masochist in the whole world.

Hey mama where's your pretty little girl tonight?

Tryin' to run before she can walk?

That's right.

Chapter 3… ish?

As soon as they were in the elevator, out of Neji's line of sight, Sakura let go of Ino's arm and started wiping her hand on her clothes, as if she had touched something disgusting. The blond snarled at her rival.

"This was a gift from Mr. Hyuuga! You stupid bitch, why do you have to ruin everything?" she complained, more annoyed than actually angry. She needed to let off some tension anyway – Neji's mere presence was enough to wind anybody up. Sakura was like a verbal punching bag.

"Get over it, you whore," Sakura scowled, crossing her now 'cleansed' hands.

Before Sakura began to start her next sentence, Ino cut in. "Oh, you're just pissy because he hated your clothes even though you weren't covered in coffee or wearing a copper's jacket. I guess you're just inferior to me, huh?"

Sakura growled and turned her back. Unfortunately, the effect was lost due to the enclosed space. Ino snickered, but left her alone.

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Grasping Neji's ID card as she walked cautiously in the expensive boutique, Ino was almost glad to have Sakura by her side. Even if the rosette was annoying and stupid and painfully sweet, it was good to have someone with her when strolling head on into unfamiliar territory. Everywhere she looked she saw dresses, suits, tops and pants with prices set high enough to make her dizzy. There were a group of men in one section of the store, with someone attending and dressing them, but other than that, it was deserted. Ino doubted that there were many people who could actually afford the beautiful merchandise.

Giving each other stunned looks, and choosing to leave their rivalry idly in the corner for awhile, both women approached the desk, with Ino clearing her throat in what she hoped was a polite but firm sort of way. Unfortunately, she sounded more like she was coughing up something quite undesirable.

Either way, she attracted the attention of one of the men, and he stalked over to her, staring with green eyes that would put Harry freakin' Potter to shame. Lacing his fingers together and placing them on the counter, he blinked slowly and asked…

"Can I help you?"

It was obvious by the look on his face that it was an insult to actually have someone dressed as Ino was in his shop. Sakura hid behind the blond, glancing over at the men in the corner - who were now being led around by a handsome man with dark red hair - to distract herself. He pulled things off the racks and held them up to each of them – there were three – before either shaking his head in disgust and putting the clothes back, or adding the garments to an extensive pile already slung over his arm.

"Are you Kakuzu?"

The green eyed man continued with his blank, drilling stare. "I am. What brings you here? I don't think that my store caters to what you two might be… looking for…. Or can afford," he sighed under his breath, so faintly that they almost couldn't hear. "If you want to 'keep it real' like you seem to be doing now, then you may have to go elsewhere. I'm sorry." Kakuzu went to move away, one hand resting on his waist as he started back towards the redhead and the three customers.

"S-Sir! Neji Hyuuga sent us!" she flashed him Neji's ID card, along with a hesitant smile.

In an instant, Kakuzu was at Ino's side, suddenly as friendly as could be. She could not see the bottom half of his face thanks to a high-necked, tight shirt – quite possibly one of the oddest pieces of fashion she had seen worn outside of a magazine – but she thought he was smiling.

"Mr. Hyuuga, hm? He's a good customer of mine, and of course I am honoured that I have come so highly recommended. He wears a lot of my stock."

"Y-Yes! We thought as much. He always wears such beautiful clothes, when I walked in, I could tell," Ino smiled nervously, slightly freaked out by the strange man.

Kakuzu seemed delighted at the compliment, making Ino surer of herself. She mentally scorned Sakura for not saying anything though, and making her do the talking. Silly girl….

"Well, if that's the case…. My partner, Sasori, is currently occupied at the moment – we have a few young men in here for a photo shoot later. Such is the busy life of one such as myself." Kakuzu spoke while idly gesturing to the redhead – Sasori – and the people he was serving. Ino blushed as one winked, one grinned, and one – who was mostly hidden by his comrades - smirked at her.

Models, then? What a great day this was turning out to be.

"What is Mr. Hyuuga's limit on you two? He has accounts for several other people here. Tell him that he's behind on his payments when you see him next, won't you?" Ino nodded, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead he was pacing the rows of beautiful hanging dresses.

"Sakura and I both have a fifty thousand limit," Ino told him as they moved from the formal section into work-wear.

Kakuzu snorted, rolling his eyes. "He's always been cheap. He forced five thousand off the last jacket I sold him. It's a shame such pretty things as yourselves can't be lavished on just a touch more by a man with so much money…. I hate cheapskates."

He muttered the last bit vehemently to himself, and Ino wondered if he did that often. Far be it from her to judge, though.

Glancing to look at Sakura, she saw the disbelieving look she carried. Truthfully enough, if they had been asked to describe their boss to someone who knew nothing about him – although how that was possible neither of them could fathom – 'cheap' would not be one of the words they would use.

"I- I wouldn't call him that, sir," Sakura said. Ino nodded, looking at the retreating back incredulously.

Kakuzu turned around, raising his chin. "Unfortunately, my dear, you don't know him like I do."

Both women said nothing as he started to pick out clothes to wear.

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Surrounded by mirrors on all sides, Ino admired herself from every possible angle, striking stupid poses and laughing to herself. She knew Kakuzu was standing right outside the change rooms, because he was talking to Sakura about how she needed a different sort of cut shirt to properly show off her chest. He left to find her something else as Sakura poked her head around the door.

"That could have been very bad if you had done that just a second later," Ino said flatly, fixing a dull, blue-eyed stare onto the rosette. "I only just got finished dressing."

"You have nothing I don't have," Sakura said, rolling her eyes. Ino wanted dearly for her to say something about the clothes she was wearing, but it looked like it would probably cause her physical pain to do so, so just that once, she decided to let it slide.

…And I have plenty of things you don't have… bitch….

"Come out into the big mirror," the Uchiha's secretary told her, yanking her out of the safe little enclosed change room and into the open store to look at herself in the mirror.

"Does it work? Tell me honestly," the blond implored, spinning.

"Yeah, yeah…. You look…."

It surprised Ino that Sakura didn't just immediately finish her sentence with some sort of insult.

Perhaps, she mused, we should make an effort to be friends?

Lost in thought, Ino stared at the Haruno next to her in the mirror.

"What? What are you staring at? There's nothing on my face, is there?" Sakura shrieked, clapping a hand over her face and fussing over herself in the mirror.

The blond blinked dully.

Nah…

"Deidara! Sasori! I've got a bone to pick with -"

The call caused both girls to turn towards the person who had spoken, even though they weren't being addressed.

"Oh…"

Ino and Sakura met the gaze of a well-off looking young man with silver hair, standing halfway across the room, who was glaring at them both as if it was their fault he had gotten their names wrong. Ino thought irately about how hopelessly blind one had to be to mistake two women in skirts for two men.

"You called?"

The girls jumped as the tailor with the red hair seemed to appear from out of nowhere. Of course, he had just emerged from one of the change rooms, a bunch of clothes hanging ready over his arm and two pins in his mouth.

"Yeah!" the silver model shouted, stomping towards them and stopping just short of Sakura, who was next to Sasori. "You got the fucking sizes wrong for this fucking shirt! Again! How's a man supposed to get his fucking job done when the guy who gets paid to fucking dress him is a fucking moron?!" the man berated, undoing the suit jacket he was wearing to reveal a ridiculously tight-fitting dress shirt with next to no buttons done up. Ino attempted to maintain a polite, indifferent smile, while at the same time trying to look at his face.

"I left two shirts on the counter, Hidan," Sasori said. His voice was calm, but with an undercurrent of strong disapproval and intolerance. "You must have grabbed -"

"Sasori? Why is this so big? You remembered my size, yeah?" The voice came from the change room on Ino's right – the same one that Sasori had just emerged from. Sakura edged away from it, attempting to get out of the crossfire, while Ino was starting to feel trapped as so many good looking men started to mass around her. Sasori offered her a quiet, strained apology before responding to the question.

"I think you took Hidan's, Deidara. There were two -"

"When I got there, there was only one," Deidara answered, stepping out of the change room and coming face to face with Ino. "Oh… Hey there," he said softly, the smallest of smirks gracing his lips.

"Hi," she said awkwardly – they were very close. Under normal circumstances, she would have shot herself for the note of surprise that oozed through the small word as she greeted one of the prettiest guys she had ever seen, but at that point in time, she was too ticked off about his hair. The similar style, she didn't mind so much, but….

His was definitely nicer. Bitch!

"So you took it, yeah?" he asked Hidan, slowly turning from Ino and looking at the other model.

"Why the fuck would I do that? What? Are you calling me an idiot?" Hidan screeched, throwing his arms in the air.

Temperamental…. Compared to this guy, I'm an angel. Wow. She wished she was important enough to swear whenever she wanted and not get fired because of it.

"Where's the other one…" Sasori muttered under his breath. "Surely he's able to bloody dress himself…" Hidan started to speak again, but was interrupted by the swing of the third change room door. Ino's breath hitched at the next person she saw.

"…. Itachi!?" she blurted, completely gobsmacked. The handsome man turned to her, angling his head elegantly.

"Oh. Hello, Ino…."

You could have sliced through the air with a knife, it was so thick. Everyone got hints of unresolved business on their part. Deidara was looking over his shoulder at Itachi with an amused grin on his face, and Hidan was staring suspiciously between man and woman. Sakura was staring at the older brother of her boss with an open mouth. She'd never seen him before, but he was legend around the office. Apparently, Sasuke's work obsession had developed just to better this one man.

"…. I haven't seen you in a while…."

"Ehe… no, you haven't," she gabbered, holding tightly to a chunk of hair and twisting it anxiously around her finger. "N-not since high school."

It had been so long since she had been made to stutter like that. Ino prided herself on being a strong woman, but she knew, that no matter what she did, Itachi would always, always, have that effect on her.

"Hm…."

"Well at least you've managed to dress yourself," Kakuzu snapped as he too, entered the fray. "You two, take off the shirts and swap them. You two -" he gestured at Ino and Sakura, who stood straight and to attention, "- I've got some more things for you to try on." He shoved piles of clothes into their arms and pushed them into the change rooms to get dressed. Ino was glad she didn't have to look at the curious face of Sakura any more. Did she really feel like explaining the relationship between her and the Uchiha brothers to her rival?

The answer was quite simple: No. Way. In. Hell.

She'll be okay

Let her have her way

Hmm… I like that song… Warren Zeevon… It's called tenderness on the block…. Sort of makes me sad though.

Anyway, if you like the story, let me know.

…

And today I have to say…

Hm.

Well, it's not so much advice… but it gets me thinking…

It's not the bullet with my name on it that worries me. It's the one that says 'to whom it may concern'.