Thank you guys so much for reading, and for your wonderful feedback. :) Lyrics at the beginning are copyright of Natasha Bedingfield's single "Angel."

-

Hidan stands in the midst of the darkened lair that serves as the Akatsuki 'family room', slowly dying a horrible and agonizingly painful death.

"Let me guess," Itachi says tonelessly. "You are dying a slow, horrible, and agonizingly painful death."

Hidan cracks an eye open. "You fucking suck at this game, little red-eye."

"No, un," Deidara replies, coming to the Uchiha's defense for once, "you just pick weird things to do charades with."

"Help us out please, Hidan-san?" Tobi pleads.

Hidan closes his eyes again, looking very world-weary. When he speaks, it isn't in words per say, but a high, clear, beautiful melody. "If I could be your angel, your angel, your angel, protect you from the pain, I'll keep you safe from danger; you'll never hurt again, no more. I'll be your A-N-G-E-L—"

"No more!" Kisame yells, his hands covering his ears.

Itachi shakes his head disapprovingly. "Any musical endeavor that has to resort to spelling words in the midst of the chorus is just…mediocre."

"Fuckers," Hidan mutters, before deflating considerably and retreating to his corner so that he may sulk in private.

"Now, now, guys, let's be positive," Tobi admonishes. "Hidan-san did a lovely job!"

"Okay, un," Deidara says, clapping his hands; the mouth on one hand catches the sleeve of his robe on the other arm, and the act of yanking them apart causes him to, inadvertently, almost smack Kisame upside the head. "Uchiha! I just had a fantastic and highly artistic idea, un!"

"…No."

"But you don't even know what I'm going to say, un!" Deidara protests, injured.

"…I have an excellent idea of what you are going to suggest, and I refuse."

"But still, un!"

"Aww, just let him speak, Itachi," Kisame interjects sensibly.

"One of these days, I am going to take your necklace away," Itachi mutters, and Kisame blanches.

"You should sing to Sakura, un!" Deidara chips in, looking far too pleased with himself.

"I knew it. And my answer is still no."

Tobi bounces on his beanbag. "Itachi-san, it would be cute!"

Itachi gives Tobi a scathing look. "I despise all things cute with a passion." He pronounces the innocent little word as if it were the most vitriolic and offensive of Hidan's vast range of profanities. "Therefore, I do not intend to ever perform an action that could possibly be labeled as cute."

"Not even in the pursuit of love, un?" Deidara asks slyly.

The Uchiha considers this for a brief moment. "No. Not in the pursuit of something so frivolous and unnecessary. Actually, not ever. It would be blatantly out of my normal character to do so."

"You did a hell of a job raising that one," Hidan mutters to Kisame, who nods in agreement.

"Fine, un; Tobi, scratch midnight serenade off the list."

Upon this order from Deidara-senpai, Tobi obediently withdraws a rather long and battered list (written on flowery paper typically used for wedding invitations, no less) from the inner recesses of his cloak, and scans the contents intently. "Aye aye, Deidara-senpai! There it is…number twenty-six." He picks up a discarded sparkly purple gel pen and scratches through said item several times.

Itachi looks on, feeling vaguely horrified. "You are in possession of a list?"

"We are, after all, a highly respected criminal organization," Kisame points out. "Excellent organization is partly how we got to where we are."

For the first time, Itachi wishes that he were in possession of the Byakugan, as craning his neck to attempt to view the contents of said list would be highly undignified. Just in case, Tobi rolls up the list rapidly, and stuffs it back into his cloak. "Don't look, Itachi-san," he chides. "It's going to be a surprise!"

Itachi glowers. "I detest surprises."

"No need to remind us, un," Deidara mumbles. "I remember your eighteenth birthday party."

There is a collective shudder at the memory.

Riding in on the dramatic impact of the moment, a neatly folded sheet of memo paper flutters slowly through the air, and comes to rest squarely on Itachi's head.

Deidara chokes with laughter, spraying a good deal of Vitamin Water on Tobi's head. "Second time in a row, un! That Sakura chick has amazing aim."

Expressionlessly, Itachi removes the offending piece of paper and spreads it out on the nearest table, in a rare moment of consideration. There is a slight flurry of moment as everybody gathers around it, so that they may read it better.

Dear Akatsuki,

Since you obviously intend on holding me captive until I can fix 'little red-eye's' vision, I figured that I'm entitled to some rights and privileges as a prisoner. One of these would be the right to decent food – which is much better, as the last meal I had was delicious, unlike that festering clay ramen crap—

At this point, Deidara has to cease reading it aloud for his teammates' benefit, as his eyes threaten to fill with tears. Tobi pats him on the back consolingly. "It's okay, Deidara-senpai! I like your ramen."

"Fuckin' A, I actually agree with the irate kunoichi on that one," Hidan whispers, astounded.

Anyway. Due to the long hours in which I have languished within my prison, extensive survey of the lands surrounding this area have informed me that we are likely in a location somewhat close to the border near Sound. Unsurprising, as this location is infamous for being a festering pit of evil—

"It's actually really good real estate," Kisame clarifies, feeling rather accomplished. "I helped Leader-sama pick it out!"

"I'm sure you're really proud of yourself, un," Deidara snarks.

—It is also notable for being one of the three locations where one is able to harvest essence of dittany from the Stone Mint plant—

"Essence of dittany, what the fuck?" Hidan asks blankly.

"Essence of dittany; commonly used as an alternative ingredient to freshly picked nightshade blossoms in medical antidotes for poisons targeting the internal organs," Itachi recites, from memory.

A few moments of silence greet this spectacular display of knowledge of obscure medical terms. Kisame pats his partner on the shoulder self-consciously. "Maybe you should spend more time watching ANBU Romance with us instead of spending all that time cooped up in our room…"

—And since I am being forced to stay here, I might as well get something constructive done during this…enforced vacation, as you will. I highly doubt you would let me leave the premises for a couple of hours to harvest a hundred specimens of the Stone Mint plant, but I figured that it would be worth asking.

Cordially,

Sakura.

P.S: I would greatly appreciate it if somebody gave Tobi a hug from me.

At this point, Deidara stops reading, an expression of distaste marring his features as he watches Tobi fairly giggle with excitement at the thought of an impending hug – much to his dismay, upon his recruitment, he discovered that his new friends were not, indeed, very huggy people.

"Don't look at me," Kisame says defensively. "Deidara, you're his partner."

"Hugging is strictly against my religion," Hidan declaims, backing away, just in case.

Deidara scowls. "Uchiha! As Tobi was your tutor for your first courtship lesson, un, you have to hug him as an expression of your deep gratitude."

Itachi scowls back, taking care to make sure that his scowl is at least three times more vitriolic. "I have to do no such thing. I do not believe in the concept of – hugging."

"Ooh, Hidan-san," Tobi whispers to Hidan ecstatically. "I think they're fighting over me!"

Upon hearing this spectacular piece of ludicrousness, Deidara rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and leans over and hugs his partner, making sure to make the hug as manly as possible – with very little actual body contact, and a great deal of enthusiastic patting of the back – before withdrawing sullenly, his mood helped little by the smirk on Itachi's face.

"I don't think that was a very valid hug," Hidan offers. "The kunoichi would probably give swirly-face a girly hug."

Itachi frowns. "Girly hug?"

"Full body contact, clinging, all that shit."

"It's okay," Deidara interrupts hastily, before Tobi can get any ideas. "Tobi, just pretend that was from Sakura, un?"

Tobi beams, fairly twirling in his happiness. "It's like being hugged by you and Sakura-san at the same time! Double the fun!"

Itachi sighs deeply, while thanking the gods that, luckily, the rest of the world has no idea what the most prominent terrorist organization is like, behind closed doors.

"How the fuck did he get in, anyway?" Hidan asks incredulously.

Itachi pales a little; in an attempt to derail the conversation from the dangerous path it is headed toward, he clears his throat authoritatively and picks up the letter between two of his fingers. "It would be courteous for us to reply to this missive first."

"Yes!" Deidara crows, before pulling out his most high-quality artistic pen and a handy sheet of Akatsuki memo paper. "The Official Head Of The Official Department Of Letters To Be Written To Prisoners to the rescue, un!"

"Buddha save us," mutters Kisame.

Dear Sakura,

Deidara pauses prematurely, looking around at his comrades. "Wait, we aren't going to let her go alone, right?"

"Of course not," Tobi pouts. "She may run away."

Hidan gives Itachi a significant look. "I wonder why."

Deidara bends down and begins to write again, his long curtain of blonde hair obscuring the paper. From his unfortunate angle, Itachi is thoroughly unable to see, and he glares at the resident artist venomously.

"Stop that, Uchiha, I can feel it burning through my hair, un."

"Let me see it."

"Hold on, un." With a few more deft scribbles, Deidara concludes the letter, neatly folds the letter into a paper swan, and flicks it at Itachi. He catches it with ease, unfolds the complicated creases distastefully, and begins to read, while taking hold of his nearby glass of Vitamin Water – just in case.

Dear Sakura,

This is actually a wonderful place! When you return to your happy and undoubtedly mundane village, I bet you're going to remember your little vacation with the Akatsuki very fondly indeed. Oh, also, Kisame would like to say that our Headquarters may be located within a notorious cesspool of evil, but it's also really great real estate. But if you think that us being located near Sound is too predictable, then I'm sure you could write to the Leader and make some alternate suggestions. He would appreciate that.

Anyway. Regarding your little plant…thingy. You're right, we would have to be crazy to let you gallivant about the country on your own. You'd probably run right away, and then we could never fix Little Red-Eye's vision. Which would be sad…I guess. However, since you seem to really want to go get your plant, after a good deal of sage and wise discussion, we as an organization have decided that you may go this evening, but only if you are supervised by one of our members. We chose Itachi. So…yeah. Write back if you have any comments, questions, or concerns.

Cheers!

Deidara

(and the rest of Akatsuki)

P.S: I hugged Tobi for you. He's disgustingly happy. If you ever ask any of us to do something so horrible again, I'll force feed you some of my "festering clay ramen."

Itachi chokes on his Vitamin Water. "What—"

"Yeah, I know, I'm nice, un." Deidara nearly preens with accomplishment. "Just think of it! You, Sakura, alone, harvesting mint! It's like the most romantic thing ever, un!"

"I do not," Itachi says dangerously, wishing heartily that he had not been forbidden to use his Sharingan during the course of the healing, "wish to be alone with Sakura while harvesting glorified vegetation."

"Too fucking bad," Hidan says pragmatically.

"Kisame," Itachi spins around, appealing to his best friend. "Can you not go?"

"Poor Itachi-san is distressed," Tobi points out. "Perhaps you should go, Kisame-san, or you, Deidara-san – you could put in a kind word for him!"

Kisame snorts, to hide his laughter. "Yes, because Deidara would be the most trustworthy person, regarding putting in a kind word for Itachi."

Deidara cracks his knuckles, smiling evilly. "Of course, of course."

"Never mind," Itachi says hastily. "I'll go."

"Owned," Hidan mutters.

Meanwhile, Deidara clambers up onto the coffee table, which groans in protest; by stretching up on the very tips of his toes, he just barely manages to wedge the letter up through the floorboards, into Sakura's room. Tobi applauds. "How resilient of you, Deidara-senpai!"

Deidara shoots Kisame the evil eye. "Last time I trusted Bruce over there to lift me up to the ceiling, I almost broke my leg, un."

They sit in rare silence for no less than two minutes, before another sheet of memo paper fairly whizzes through the air, obviously forced through the floorboards at great speed. Itachi dodges quickly, and it lands, open, on the coffee table.

Dear Akatsuki,

NOT HIM, PLEASE.

P.S: If you had the fundamental human decency to let me out of my prison once in a while, I could hug Tobi myself.

Itachi wilts a little. But only a little, so that it would be completely unnoticeable to the untrained eye. Kisame reaches over and pats his hand sympathetically.

Deidara grabs the pen again, and writes back a single-word reply.

Dear Sakura,

Why?

P.S: If we let you downstairs, you would try and kill all of us. We're not stupid.

Almost as soon as he manages to stuff the letter up the floorboards, the artist only has time to collapse back onto his armchair, by the time the next one flutters back down.

Dear Akatsuki,

He's a creepy weirdo. Do you have anyone else?

P.S: You guys know me too well.

"Chin up, Itachi," Kisame urges. "Here, drink some Vitamin Water."

Deidara furrows his brow, thoughtful. "Time for serious damage control, un."

Dear Sakura,

Don't worry, it'll be fun! Besides, Hidan thinks flower picking is gay, Kisame has allergies, I have to make dinner, and if we let you and Tobi out together, you guys would probably both make daisy chains and skip and frolic all the way back to Konoha before he even realized something was amiss. Itachi's actually a really, really nice guy, though—

(Deidara nearly physically gags while writing said sentence, while Itachi smirks, highly satisfied with himself)

—and he doesn't bite. But if he does, it only means that he really, really likes you.

Cheers!

Deidara, and everyone else too.

P.S: Tobi sends hugs; Hidan would like to send a kunai to the throat. I think Tobi's is more socially acceptable, though. Don't tell anyone I said this, but Itachi looks kinda sad.

The letter is sent to Sakura in the customary format, and after another two minutes, they receive their reply.

Dear Akatsuki,

…Fine. We should start around sunset, because that's when the mint's best.

P.S: I accept the hugs with joy. Tell Hidan I know the truth about his parentage. And, fine, tell Itachi that I would be happy to gather mint with him.

Tobi squeals happily and hugs himself. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Hidan's eyes fill up with tears.

Kisame elbows Itachi lightly. "Aww, she's happy to gather mint with you!"

"Merriment and joy and fluffy kittens," Itachi says, in his customary deadpan.

Deidara stands up, suddenly businesslike. "Okay, un; Uchiha, it's crunch time."

"…What is this crunch time that you speak of?" Itachi asks, sounding somewhat apprehensive.

"This," Deidara brandishes his pen dramatically, "is going to be like your first date, un."

"Cool your jets, Sparky," Kisame rolls his eyes. "They're not even going out yet."

"Yes, un, but this is your chance to make a first impression! Well, you know, a real first impression; clan-killing and best-friend menacing and kidnapping and grilled-chicken-bites-and-slow-cooked-hoisin-noodle-making aside, un. A good first impression."

Itachi raises an eyebrow expressionlessly. "Are you implying that you know how to make a satisfactory first impression on those of the female persuasion?"

"Female persuasion?" chokes Hidan, barely able to restrain his mirth.

Deidara places his hands on his hips, summoning his best fearless-and-sexy-artist pose. "Of course." Regardless of the consequences, he grabs Itachi's sleeve and tugs. "Come on, un. We're going to my room for some tutoring."

Itachi promptly kicks Deidara in the jugular.

"Fucking denied!" Hidan crows gleefully.

"Itachi," Kisame chides, "you forgot your breathing exercises!"

With much gasping and choking, Deidara claws himself back up into a sitting position. Flicking his disarrayed hair back into place, he tries his best to give the Uchiha a levelheaded yet haughty look. "Not like that, un, you freakin' closet pervert—"

"I am not," Itachi enunciates dangerously. "A closet pervert."

"Just go with him; he's only trying to help, after all," Kisame assures. "If you need anything, scream."

Deidara manages to drag Itachi down the hallway. "Now come on, Uchiha, you heard him. And if you ever do that weird jugular-kicky thing again, I'll blow up your room, un."

-

Three hours later, at sunset, Itachi and Deidara finally re-emerge. They are both bruised to various degrees, although Deidara rubs his fractured arm with a distinct air of satisfaction. "He's a slow learner, un," the artist declares proudly. "But I think he's got it."

Itachi merely ascends the stairs slowly, while privately resolving to never spend any amount of time alone with Deidara again. Ever.

This time, he deigns to knock on Sakura's door himself – his prior experience had taught him that she could turn even a shuriken deeply embedded into the door as a lethal weapon. Almost immediately, the door swings open, and he is face-to-face with the kunoichi herself. "Why," he says dryly. "Aren't we eager?"

Sakura makes a face at him, before thrusting an over-large woven wooden basket into his hands – they had sent Tobi into Leader-sama and Konan's room, earlier, to gather some weird girly shit, as Hidan had so sagely put it, for their captive. "I don't expect you to understand the significance of the Stone Mint plant," she replies, in an overly sugary tone, "but this is a highly important expedition."

"Essence of dittany, extracted from the Stone Mint plant; commonly used as an alternative ingredient to freshly picked nightshade blossoms in medical antidotes for poisons targeting the internal organs," Itachi recites, for the second time that day, as they begin to proceed down the stairs. For the sake of avoiding mass horror and panic amongst his comrades, he leads her to a concealed side exit of the house.

Sakura gapes at him wordlessly, for once, surprised.

"While not wreaking havoc around the world, I enjoy perusing recreational reading material of various types and purposes."

"Ah," Sakura manages.

Stepping outside, for the first time in days, easily feels like the best thing that has ever happened to her; unable to restrain her glee, even in the presence of her captor, Sakura does two front handsprings, relishing the feeling of the moist evening grass underneath her hands. For the first time, she realizes just how isolated the Akatsuki Headquarters are – for as far as she can see, in all directions, there is nothing but grass and trees. As they navigate through the thin copse of trees, though, she can almost smell the mint fields just beyond it, which just happens to lie east, in the direction of Konoha…

Itachi notices the quick, assessing movement of her gaze, and in the next moment, he is at her side, his long fingers curling, almost self-consciously, around her wrist. True, it isn't exactly what Deidara had recommended, but it is as close as he can bring himself. "Don't even attempt it," he cautions.

Sakura yelps, attempting to tug free of his grip. "Ew, let go of me! I'm not going to do anything!"

Itachi considers this for a moment. "No. And if Hidan were here, he would caution you that lying is a sin."

They step into the mint fields, and Itachi is nearly assaulted by the overwhelmingly clean and fresh odor. He coughs once, ducking his head, and looks up to find Sakura smirking at him, apparently unaffected by it. "Having difficulties?" she asks sweetly.

Itachi glares right back at her. "Never." In the fading light of the setting sun, he notices something rather peculiar about her appearance, for the first time. "…How did you sustain dried bloodstains on Konan's apparel?"

Sakura looks down at the borrowed t-shirt dismissively. "Oh, those aren't bloodstains. They used to be the fruity little maroon clouds, you know? But Tobi lent me some of his black Magic Markers and I colored them over."

Fruity little maroon clouds. Itachi nearly chokes. "Why?"

Sakura gives him another one of her customary why-hello-village-idiot glances, as she bends down and examines a shoot of mint. "As a proud shinobi of Konoha, I," she declares, "would never wear Akatsuki colors, let alone any clothes emblazoned with their insignia." She pulls the mint free, testing it with her fingers and holding it up to the dying light speculatively, before dropping it into the basket and straightening, with a smile. Much to his indignation, she pokes him in the clavicle, before turning away and continuing her search. "However, it suits you quite well."

Itachi frowns at the backhanded compliment.

"One hundred specimens," Sakura calls over her shoulder. "Only the best and the most ready for harvest." She turns around, only to give him a mischievous look. "Due to your perusal of recreational reading material of various types and purposes, I trust you know what that constitutes."

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "Of course."

-

Despite his perusal of recreational reading material of various types and purposes, Itachi soon finds that it is, indeed, harder to find one hundred specimens of the best Stone Mint plants than he had previously assumed. To his chagrin, Sakura seems to have a much easier time of it than he does; she fairly waltzes to and back from the basket, holding large handfuls of mint, every five minutes.

He is trying his best to inspect one particularly large mint leaf in the sparse moonlight, when his concentration is abruptly disturbed by her taking a seat beside him. "Your nail polish," Sakura declares, waving an offending leaf in front of him, "is flaking off on them."

His first instinct is to examine his nails sharply; the chipping of nail polish is a Class Two violation of Akatsuki uniform regulations. Much to his dismay, the purple, is, indeed, flaking off at the ends. "So much for industrial strength," he mutters aloud.

Even in the dark, he can clearly see the amusement written on the kunoichi's face as she relinquishes the leaf he had been inspecting, taps it a few times, considers it, and then drops it in the basket, before picking up another one. "Why do you wear nail polish, anyway?" she asks conversationally.

Itachi takes a leaf from the basket, dusting off the tiny flakes of purple nail polish that linger on its surface. "I am surprised you deign to speak with me, kunoichi," he replies at length. "I assumed that I was too creepy and weird for your delicate sensibilities."

"Yes, well," Sakura says unapologetically, discarding the mint leaf and picking up another. "Harvesting mint leaves is highly tedious when done in silence."

"You forget who I am – I do not exist solely for your amusement, Sakura."

Sakura actually laughs, which is hardly the reaction he had been aiming to elicit. "For as long as time itself," she responds serenely, while de-veining a small leaf with her fingernails. "Unlikely friendships have been formed through the act of gathering mint leaves for medical antidotes."

The entire list of pithy retorts which had been formulating on the surface of his mind suddenly dissipates.

Sakura laughs again, obviously taking note of the barely-visible consternation on his face as she tosses another leaf into the basket. "But don't get your hopes up, Uchiha Itachi."

Itachi concentrates intently on the mint leaf he holds, realizing, with a sense of dawning horror, that he may, possibly, want to smile. As a result of this highly unsettling possibility, he quickly begins summoning the most morbid and murderous thoughts that come to mind.

"Kisame," he says at last, keeping his eyes on the mint leaf, "is the most senior member of Akatsuki, besides Leader-sama. He had a – fingernail-biting problem."

Sakura winces, envisioning Kisame's shark teeth. "Ouch."

"Leader-sama finds the gnawing of fingernails to be an undignified habit. In search of a cure, he consulted his, ah – friend at the time, an Amekagure kunoichi, who informed him that nail polish had a highly offensive taste, and was sure to discourage the biting of nails."

"Konan," Sakura supplies, smiling slightly.

"Yes. Leader-sama instructed Kisame to paint his fingernails, and – well, the habit stuck."

"Interesting indeed." She looks up at him, flashing a purposefully charming smile. "Any chance you'll tell me more Akatsuki history or motivations?"

Itachi smirks. "Unlikely."

"Come on," she pouts. "It's not like I can go back and tell Tsunade-shishou about the real reason you guys wear nail polish, and then somehow, we can cripple your organization from the inside by systematically shutting down all of your nail polish providers."

Despite himself, Itachi cannot help but snort. "A valid idea. Undoubtedly Leader-sama would go insane after being exposed to an organization full of nail-biters; he would likely flee, Konan would follow, in search of a cure, and the rest of us would disband and scatter to the winds, as we are too volatile and irrational to operate without the steady leadership of…the Leader."

Upon this unlikely witticism, Sakura actually shrieks and falls back, looking more unnerved than she has all night. "You…you made a joke!"

Itachi flinches distastefully at the use of the juvenile term. "Hardly. I crafted a snide witticism. There is a clear difference."

"Sure," she grins, before continuing her in-depth inspection of mint leaves. Itachi surveys her through veiled eyelashes; Sakura, he realizes, does not seem to be frightened by him in the least – something that he finds downright unsettling. He could chalk this up to sheer stupidity, but even he has to acknowledge that her degree of chakra control and medical expertise is hardly conducive to this explanation. A far likelier response is that she has inherited her mentor's reckless brand of unthinking bravery.

"So," Sakura says at last. "Tell me about yourself."

"I am not fond about talking about myself," Itachi counters. "If you intend on performing some kind of half-baked psychoanalysis, draw your own conclusions based on what you already know."

Sakura considers this for a moment and sniffs a mint leaf thoughtfully. "You're a psychopathic clan-killing mass murderer with terrible vision. Despite your status as psychopathic clan-killing mass murderer, though, you have never outright threatened or displayed your rumored sadistic cruelty to me, which leads me to believe that you may have split personality syndrome – you know, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or something. You appreciate high fashion and dislike brownies. You have highly questionable social skills, although you can cook a pretty mean plate of lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles and hoisin sauce. And you have an irrational fondness for Vitamin Water." She smirks at him. "Never mind, you don't have to tell me anything more. I could practically write a book."

This time, Itachi's lips quirk up at the edges, and he looks down at his mint leaf again, in order to conceal it.

-

After about an hour or so more, in which Itachi actually engages in idle conversation with the kunoichi – which is, inarguably, a Big Deal, as the only person he had ever engaged in idle conversation with previously has been Kisame – they finish harvesting their hundred specimens of mint and proceed back to Headquarters. Once again, Itachi is stuck holding the basket (and Sakura's wrist in the other hand, even though he is quick to notice that her protest, this time around, is very slightly less violent), while the kunoichi attempts to psychoanalyze his comrades, using her limited knowledge of them.

Thankfully, everybody else is occupied at the dinner table – evidenced by the screaming and hollers of "Pass the fucking mashed potatoes, already!" – as they make their way in, quietly, through the side entrance.

"Myself or Kisame will bring your food up shortly," Itachi tells her, somewhat awkwardly, as he passes the basket back to her outside of her door.

Sakura tilts her head, looking up at him shrewdly. "Thanks, Uchiha." She enters her room, and then turns to look back at him at the last possible second. "You know, I still think you're creepy and weird and one of the most screwed up human beings to ever walk the face of the earth."

"Why, thank you, Haruno Sakura; I do not think I have ever heard a more flattering description of myself for as long as I have lived," Itachi replies, in his customary deadpan.

Sakura laughs. "If it's any consolation, though, you're slightly less creepy and weird than I thought you were two days ago."

On this pleasant note, the door shuts behind her, leaving Itachi staring at the gouged wood where his shuriken had previously landed.

"…Charmed."

-

Upon his descent down the staircase, Itachi is faced with a formidable sight – Kisame, Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi, all lined up with their arms crossed, single-file, across the base of the stairs.

It is a sight that would give even the most stoic Konoha shinobi nightmares. Itachi glares. "Out of my way. I require sustenance."

"Not so fast, un," Deidara pokes him firmly in the chest.

"We want all the juicy details," Kisame completes.

In the background, Tobi fairly jumps up and down with excitement. "Did you guys kiss?"

Itachi, otherwise known as the Most Creepy, Weird, and Screwed-Up Missing-Nin Of The Year, sighs deeply.

It's going to be a long night.

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