Love Lockdown Chapter 11: I'm Yours, a naruto fanfic

Many thanks to everybody who was kind enough to review. :) Oh, and the official soundtrack to this chapter – I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz. The lyrics used later on are from the aforementioned single, and are not my own.

Deidara leans his head against his hand, considering his comrades. "You guys have been downright boring lately, un. If I have to pretend to seduce that weird Neji guy just to get a laugh out of you, I'm going to be really damn pissed, un."

The Leader sighs in a rather martyred fashion. "Remember – just because Konoha's ANBU operatives have been trying to hunt down and kill all of us for years doesn't mean that we should take the opportunity to torment them now."

"Too fucking late," Hidan says pragmatically. "I already stole a whole pack of that weird Genma guy's oral fixating tools – uh, senbon, and Itachi's been doing his little red-eye techniques whenever one-half-red-eye-guy Kakashi turns his back, and the stupid mask-face still can't figure out why he's having nightmares."

Kisame sniggers. "Seriously?"

A few moments pass without a reply, and, wordlessly, Kisame, Pein, and Deidara all lean around and crane their necks. Surely enough, Itachi is still sitting silently in his dark and secluded corner of the main lair, while practically radiating a scary and murderous aura.

The Leader glances from Itachi – who rotates his swively chair slightly, so that his back is completely to the rest of the company, and continues his mysterious scribbling – to Kisame, and raises an eyebrow inquiringly.

Kisame quickly grabs a pad of Akatsuki memo paper, and Deidara passes him a Magic Marker, before he finishes a small billboard sign. Sakura, I think, it reads.

Following his lead, Pein takes last week's business section and another Magic Marker from Deidara. Explain.

Kisame hastily flips to another page, shooting a cautious look at the apparently unaware Itachi. Even though we're on the same side as Konoha, I guess it's taking her some time to come to terms with the fact that she and one of the world's most notorious criminals seem to have amazing chemistry.

Pein drops the business section, giving a small nod of understanding.

Apparently unaware of the tension in the room, Deidara prances over to Itachi and flings an arm around the Konoha missing-nin's shoulders. "What up, G-Money, un?"

Itachi had been considering breaking Deidara's arm from the very moment he sensed the obnoxious artist's impending arrival, but then utter confusion preempts the action, and he can do nothing but blink. "…Please unhand me, or I will have no choice but to fracture various limbs of yours for this unwelcome physical contact."

Deidara hastily removes the arm in question, and retreats several steps, just in case. Kisame snorts disbelievingly. "G-Money? Did you just call Itachi G-Money?"

Deidara flings his hands up defensively. "It was just an icebreaker, okay, un? Besides, it's what Raidou calls Genma."

"I said you should attempt civility toward them," Pein drawls, "not imitate their childish ways."

Kisame strolls over to his partner, grinning in a way that he hopes is subtle. "Eh, Itachi – how are you?"

Much to his surprise, Itachi attempts to conceal whatever he had been working on so intently, by quickly stripping off his Akatsuki cloak and flinging it over the entire table. "Passable."

Kisame's natural curiosity is aroused; he peers over Itachi's shoulder, and even Deidara slinks back to them, reaching for the discarded cloak. "What's that, un?"

Itachi's eyes narrow, and his arm shoots out, locking Deidara's wrist in a crushing grip. "Nothing."

But he is too late, and Kisame slips under Itachi's guard to confiscate the work. He stares at it, puzzled, and rotates it one hundred and eighty degrees. "This feels like – what, is this a canvas or something?"

Itachi promptly throws Deidara aside, and the blonde missing-nin flies across the room and almost crashes into the Tiffany lamp. Pein winces and quickly removes himself to the basement and the much saner company of Konan, even as Itachi advances on Kisame, engaging the Sharingan. "Return it immediately."

Instinctually, Kisame flings up the canvas in order to prevent his gaze from meeting the menacing doujutsu, and, as a result, the cloak slowly slides off the canvas and pools on the floor.

Three things happen at once:

Itachi emits a horrified squeak, and then looks completely repulsed at his vocal cords for performing such a traitorous sound in the first place.

Kisame blinks; holding the canvas at arm's length away from him. "Oh, my Buddha," he breathes, at last. "I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life."

Deidara drags himself to his feet, nursing his swollen and purple wrist irritably. "What the fuck? Uchiha paints? And why is that on one of my canvases?"

Itachi lunges at Kisame, attempting to strangle him, but the shark-man is, after all, roughly two feet taller than him; he lifts the canvas out of the Uchiha prodigy's reach easily. "Itachi! I never knew you could even do things like this!"

By this time, Deidara has limped over to Kisame. "Hey, let me see, un."

At this point, Itachi decides that killing his partner will be far too troublesome to do right now; perhaps he could exact his retribution on Kisame slowly and steadily, over a period of several months to years. For now, though, he resorts to leaning against the nearby armchair in a rather broody fashion, as the remaining two Akatsuki members scrutinize his work.

Kisame is reduced to a state of near speechlessness as he surveys the magnificent oil painting – two darkened silhouettes, standing in a field of the purest mint green, while then sun rises above the horizon in an explosion of color. The leaves of the trees bordering the field are golden and scarlet and dark, rich plum; all the colors of a beautiful autumn. "…Itachi," he croaks, nearly mortified. "It's pretty. It's beautiful and gorgeous. You – I didn't think you were even capable of creating anything that could be considered beautiful in any way."

Itachi raises an eyebrow elegantly. "Why, thank you, Kisame. On both counts."

Deidara has been considering the painting skeptically, tilting his head back and forth. "What the hell, un?" he yelps at last. "This isn't even original!"

Kisame gapes. "What?"

Deidara squints at it for another moment, racking through his remarkable mental encyclopedia of artistic works. "This is an exact copy of Lovers in Japan, un!" he fairly squawks, thrusting it back into Itachi's arms and looking a great deal like he wants to vomit. "That's so fucking ridiculous! Where's the originality! The emotion? The passion? Where's your own heart and soul, un?"

This last inquiry is screamed at the top of Deidara's lungs, and Kisame inches away as subtly as possible. Itachi, for once, is less discreet, and stabs the corner of the canvas into Deidara's ribs. "It is a well known fact that I have no heart or soul," Itachi says emotionlessly.

Deidara doubles over in pain, swatting hard in his direction. "Whatever, un!"

Kisame hovers between them, before taking the canvas away from Itachi and cradling it in a protective fashion. "Wait, Itachi – do you have any original work?"

Itachi regards him for a long moment, before picking up his discarded cloak and rummaging within the inner pockets. Finally, he pulls out a rolled up piece of paper, which has been secured with a rubber band, and hands it to his partner.

Kisame unrolls it slowly, trying to ignore his feelings of trepidation. As he regards the one and only Uchiha Itachi Original, he takes care to keep his shark-like features as impassive as possible. "That's, uh – really…really…raw and emotional."

Itachi retrieves his original work, rolling it up tightly and returning it to his immediate person. "Thank you."

Deidara cranes his neck suspiciously. "What's the medium?"

"…Crayon."

"Subjects, un?"

Itachi makes no move to reply; Kisame considers it, but then realizes that if he comes even close to describing the Crayola representation of Itachi and Sakura, killing Sound shinobi in the midst of a field of black roses – well, then, he would run a high risk of finding poison in his Vitamin Water the next morning. And that would definitely not be cool.

Deciding to derail this dangerous point of discourse, Kisame clears his throat purposefully. "So," he says, holding out Itachi's flawless copy of Lovers In Japan, "is this for Sakura's birthday?"

Judging from the slight widening of his eyes, apparently, it had not been for Sakura's birthday. "What is this birthday that you speak of?" Itachi asks guardedly.

Deidara snorts. "It's March the twenty-first, un. Your girl's birthday is in exactly a week. You didn't know?"

Judging from the blank – well, blanker than usual – expression on Itachi's face, Deidara and Kisame are forced to acknowledge that he, in fact, did not know.

"You're hopeless, un," Deidara pronounces, flinging his hands up. "Hopeless."

Itachi's Sharingan promptly evolves to Mangekyou, and Kisame pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Breathing exercises?"

Itachi dutifully inhales and exhales with an aura of forced calm.

"Intonations?"

"…Om."

"Anyway, un," Deidara rolls his eyes, having completely memorized the requisite speech, "this is your chance to make a good impression on Sakura. Except this has to be a super special impression."

Itachi sniffs disdainfully. "Besides making noodles, harvesting one hundred specimens of glorified vegetation, getting punched in the jaw and not doing anything about it, writing haiku, authoring a full-length Shakespearan novel, taking her out to dinner at an extremely high-class restaurant, and perhaps starting an international affair to win her approval?"

Deidara and Kisame blink in unison.

"Eh, Itachi," Kisame starts sheepishly, "that's great and all, but when you have a track record like yours – you need all the good impressions you can get."

"You off your entire clan one time, un," Deidara lectures, "and the stigma is with you for life."

"Yes, I am aware," Itachi replies, bored. "How exactly do you propose that I make a super special impression, so to speak?"

"Hmm," Kisame muses aloud, before reclaiming the magnificently painted canvas. "First off, we're getting this to Konoha."

Itachi's brow furrows slightly. "Is that it?"

Deidara actually giggles at his contemporary's degree of social retardation. "Of course not, un. That's just part one."

This entire conversation is sounding far too familiar for his tastes, and Itachi frowns. "Part one?"

"Obviously," Kisame replies succinctly. "Deidara; as Hidan and Tobi are out wreaking havoc on Sound with the Konoha people, you and I have to help Itachi with this particular task."

"I require no help—"

Deidara recoils. "I don't want to help the little red-eye, un!"

"Again, I am most certainly not little, and let me reiterate the point that I do not need help from the likes of you," Itachi pronounces disdainfully, the tomoe of the Sharingan practically burning a hole through Deidara's face.

The artist sneers indignantly, his pride wounded. "Well, too goddamn bad! You're getting my help anyway, whether you like it or not, un!"

Kisame tries his best not to laugh at how very predictable they are. "Well, fine. Deidara, you can start by making sure this painting gets to Sakura safe and sound."

The exact replica of the famous painting is thrust into Deidara's arms, and he blinks. "But that's like a three-hour journey, un. What are you two going to be doing?

"Oh, we'll be brainstorming," Kisame says offhandedly. "We've got about a week to come up with the best birthday presents ever, and the clock is ticking."

Deidara smirks at the pained expression on Itachi's face. "Fine, un. Later."

He then strolls out of the side door, humming merrily to himself, while Itachi glares after him, feeling vaguely envious. "Kisame, must we?"

"Yes," is the firm reply, as he is dragged toward the main lair again.

Itachi scowls, his typically bad mood having now transitioned into a state of positive ornery, as he watches his partner rummage through the various cabinets. "What are you doing?"

Kisame opens and shuts another drawer, sweeping the various contents aside. "Konan hides her shopping catalogs in here – she hasn't been able to leave them out in the open since Tobi joined. Apparently Tobi found one, once, and drained nearly six months' worth of funding by ordering a priceless Vera Wang wedding dress."

"…Ah." Much to his dismay, an image of Tobi clad in an elaborate wedding dress springs to his mind, and Itachi nearly shivers with revulsion.

"Oh, here we go." Kisame tosses a large stack of outdated issues of National Geographic out onto the floor, before unearthing an even larger stack of shopping catalogs.

Itachi recoils. "You do not expect me to go through those, do you?"

Kisame staggers under the sheer weight of all the catalogs, before managing to throw them all out over the coffee table, until the aged wood is completely covered by names of various high-end fashion enterprises. "Of course I do. Don't worry, though, I'll help."

"…I refuse. My dignity does not allow it."

Kisame snorts. "It's either this or going shopping. Actual shopping. At a store."

A long and tense silence ensues, as Itachi and Kisame glare at each other. This awkward pause is interrupted in the most unlikely fashion, when they hear the door slam, and then the cascade of virulent profanity that usually accompanies Hidan's arrival.

Itachi and Kisame relax fractionally.

Then they hear a horrifyingly familiar giggle echo through the lower level of Headquarters; the kind of shamelessly gleeful and happy sound that only Tobi is capable of producing. "Itachi-san, Kisame-san!" the orange-masked Akatsuki member fairly squeals. "We're home!"

Itachi pales slightly, while Kisame blanches from his normal healthy shade of turquoise to a washed-out blue. "It's too late," he mutters, his gills actually flaring. "There's nothing we can do."

Itachi quickly slides out a kunai.

"We can't kill him!" Kisame argues, but it is, indeed, too late – Tobi barrels into the room from the kitchen, in search of his two 'bestest friends', fully intending to launch himself on top of them in one of his customarily exuberant welcoming hugs.

However, through a sick twist of fate, Tobi's gaze happens to fall on the littered coffee table first. He stops dead, his sole visible eye widening at an alarming rate.

"Buddha damn it," Kisame mutters under his breath.

"You should have just let me kill him," Itachi replies superciliously.

They both watch, wincing, as Tobi practically throws himself bodily on the table. "Vera Wang!" he gasps ecstatically, picking up a nearby catalog and almost inhaling it in his enthusiasm. "Christian Dior!" He sets the Vera Wang issue aside, and practically cradles each designer's shopping catalogues in bliss. "Versace! Coach! Tobi is the happiest boy in the world!"

"Good-bye, funding," Kisame sighs.

Itachi's thoughts are drifting in a different direction, as he stares at the outrageous display in front of him. "Is he crying?"

"Tears of joy, Itachi-san," Tobi sniffles, flipping through a Prada catalogue. "Tears of joy."

"Well," Kisame replies diplomatically, as the two of them slink out of the lair, leaving Tobi to his shopping, "I guess this means we have to find other options."

"…And how do we go about that?" Itachi deadpans.

Kisame gives him a shouldn't-it-be-obvious look. "Shouldn't it be obvious?"

Itachi glowers. "No, Kisame. It is most definitely not obvious."

"We consult Hidan, of course," Kisame heads down the staircase, toward Hidan's lair, before turning back to look for his partner. "You coming?"

"No. I am fairly certain you have taken leave of your senses."

Kisame sighs deeply. "If you don't come, Hidan's going to end up ordering Sakura a giant, plush, velvety-soft teddy bear that is holding a big red heart emblazoned with the words My Love."

Itachi's left eye twitches at the very thought. "…On second thought, I am coming."

Konoha

"Oh, my Buddha," Ino gasps dramatically, upon entering Sakura's apartment. "It's another one!"

Sakura is finishing locking up, and she takes a moment to turn around, but that is enough time for Ino to prance over to the coffee table, pick up the newest addition to her best friend's collection of interior décor, and brandish it at her. "This one is even prettier than the others!"

Sakura plucks it from her grasp lightly, in order to admire it better. "No matter what else you can say about the guy," she acknowledges grudgingly, "he's a hell of a painter."

Ino flings herself onto the couch, watching Sakura hang it on the wall. "So, let's see," she drawls, while ticking each count off on her fingers. "By your own admission, Uchiha Itachi: painter, war-starter, punch-taker, novel-writer, haiku-master, noodle-maker, and…awesome date-taker?"

Sakura rolls her eyes, having heard numerous variations of this speech at least a hundred times by now. "Your point?"

Ino promptly throws one of the cushions at her. "The point is, why aren't you going out with him already?"

"Ino," Sakura says incredulously. "You know that you're a terrible influence, right?"

The blonde kunoichi actually squeaks in her indignation. "Terrible influence? Me?"

"You're trying to convince me to date an S-class criminal! It doesn't get any worse than that!"

"Hey!" Ino attempts, in her own defense. "It's not drugs or alcohol. Besides, you like him, anyway."

Sakura begins pouring both of them glasses of icy water – not stupid Vitamin Water, just plain, natural, mineral water with exactly three ice cubes distributed in the middle – in order to escape her friend's excessively scrutinizing gaze. "Don't be crazy. I so do not like Uchiha freakin' Itachi."

Ino raises an eyebrow wordlessly.

"Okay, fine," Sakura relents, as she passes her the glass of water. "Fate threw us together in some sort of sick joke, but I only put up with him for the fancy paintings, and, still, I'm just biding my time until I lure him into a false sense of security. Then, I fully intend to turn him in to Tsunade-shishou so that she can execute him, and subsequently extract his brain and examine it in the pursuit of science. And he won't even see it coming."

Without further ado, Ino fishes out one of the ice cubes from her glass and throws it at her. "Don't even give me that, forehead girl! You're the one who almost kissed him on—"

Sakura screeches as the ice cube makes contact squarely with her throat, albeit for an entirely different reason. "Don't say that! Don't even talk about it! It didn't happen!"

Ino's eyes narrow in a decidedly evil manner. "What, you almost kissing Itachi?"

"Ino!"

"Hey, it's not my fault that you and Itachi almost had a smoldering make-out session under the stars—"

Sakura grabs another cushion, looking ready to do battle. "Ino, so help me Buddha, I swear I will—"

"You will get over yourself, realize that you finally have a chance at a relationship that will bring you happiness, and promptly pursue said chance?" Ino fairly sings, dodging the pillow adeptly.

Sakura buries her head in her hands. "I'm going to cry," she informs her best friend, her voice muffled.

Ino blinks. "I'm not stupid – you haven't cried in about five years. You're not going to start now."

"Ugh, you know me too well," Sakura complains, straightening with a defeated expression on her face.

Ino sights the window of opportunity given by this statement; it is a tiny window, yes, but she fully intends to take advantage of it. She quickly closes the distance between them, meeting her best friend's gaze. "Damn straight I know you too well; we've been friends for more than a decade, after all. I know you better than I know anybody else in the world."

She pokes Sakura in the forehead gently. "Obviously, I know you well enough to tell when you like somebody, and denying that is an insult to the years and strength of our friendship. And, unfortunately, I also know what you're like when you're completely in denial about the aforementioned fact."

Sakura sighs deeply, leaning back on the sofa. "But Ino, this isn't like the whole thing with Genma a few years back. Or like that weird period when I was around fifteen or sixteen, where I thought I liked Naruto. This is – serious, you know?"

Detecting a breakthrough, Ino presses a little bit more. "This has the potential to become a serious kind of relationship, or this has more serious barriers than the other two? Or…both?"

"Both," Sakura says glumly.

Feeling somewhat lost for words, Ino resorts to patting her on the shoulder a bit awkwardly. "Look, Sakura – we know better than anybody that life isn't all black and white, no matter what our profession guides us to believe. Life, and people, are all about the shades of gray. This is one of those instances…they may be S-class criminals, but they're just as human as we are. They have the same needs, and the same desires. They've done some awful things, yeah, but so have we."

She gestures toward the most recent in the series of paintings that adorn her walls. "And they are capable of beauty, and love, just like we are."

"…You're such a romantic, Ino," Sakura manages, at last.

"Yes," the other young woman crows, sensing triumph, "but I make sense, don't I?"

The pink-haired kunoichi hesitates for a moment. "I suppose."

"Excellent," Ino beams, flinging her arms around her shoulders. "So, now what?"

Sakura smiles, despite herself. "I'm not going to run off to Akatsuki Headquarters right now and declare my acceptance of him, you know."

Ino pouts. "Hey, a girl can hope, right?"

"Keep hoping," Sakura tells her, reaching for one of the address books on the coffee table. "I'll wait it out. And I'll – think about it, I guess."

"Which is more than you would have done before, anyway," Ino supplies, before intercepting the address book and rifling through it.

Sakura watches her, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing who we're going to invite to your fabulous birthday celebration, duh," Ino replies absentmindedly.

"There is going to be no fabulous birthday celebration," Sakura plucks the address book out of her hands, "as I will be working on that day in the ANBU department at Hokage Tower."

Ino gapes, looking as if the arrival of the apocalypse has just been announced. "No."

"Yes. I guess you guys can just drop presents off at my desk, or whatever," Sakura says dismissively. "I mean, I don't even need anything, but I know you and Tenten are totally irrational when it comes to birthdays."

Suddenly, Ino begins to laugh, for no apparent reason, and Sakura looks at her curiously. "What?"

"Nothing," Ino giggles. "Just thinking about what your boyfriend and his posse are going to get you."

Sakura shudders at the very thought; both of Itachi being referred to as her boyfriend, and the rest of Akatsuki as his posse – also, at the concept of what a renowned criminal organization would interpret as a satisfactory birthday present. "…Honestly, Ino? I don't even want to think about it."

Metropolitan Area Closest To Akatsuki Headquarters

"Are you fucking crazy, un?" Deidara hisses, under his breath. "If you come any closer to me with that thing, I swear to Buddha I will blow you up and take this entire place with me!"

Tobi gasps dramatically. "But you can't blow up Prada, Deidara-senpai!"

"Watch me, un," Deidara mutters darkly.

"Deidara," Itachi says, in his calmest and most dangerous tone. "Try on the scarf."

"No, un," the artist flatly refuses, backing away, and nearly colliding with a sales rack of the season's hottest trenchcoats. A nearby sales associate looks at him, worried. "It's your presents for your girlfriend. You can try it on, un."

"Stop it," Kisame murmurs, in an undertone. "We're attracting attention. Deidara, just try on the scarf – you have Sakura's delicate shoulders and throat, anyway."

Deidara scowls in his most vitriolic fashion, while simultaneously kissing his masculinity goodbye. He reaches out, resentfully, taking the stunning emerald scarf – woven out of the finest cashmere with genuine silver threads – before carefully winding it around his throat.

"You just look so beautiful, Deidara-senpai!" Tobi assures him brightly.

Deidara makes a strangled choking sound.

"I say yes," Kisame declares.

Itachi is harder to please; he folds his arms, regarding the emasculated artist impassively. "Rotate your person ninety degrees."

"What—"

"Just do it!" Kisame hisses, throwing a dubious look over at the nearby salesperson.

After five more minutes of Deidara modeling the emerald cashmere scarf, Itachi finally nods tersely. "Very well."

As if alerted by the words themselves, the salesman materializes at Itachi's elbow. "Anything I can do for you, sir?"

"I wish to purchase that one," Itachi instructs dispassionately, pointing at the area of the display that holds the rest of the emerald-and-silver cashmere scarves. "And that one," he indicates the next box over, which houses silk scarves of blazing, brilliant ruby, with golden threads.

The salesperson nearly salivates at the prospect of so much revenue garnered by just one visit. "I will ring those up immediately, sir." He takes one of each scarf and hastens toward the register, before turning back to regard the crowd of civilian-dressed – and, in Kisame's case, jutsu-disguised – Akatsuki members. "Anything else I can do for you upstanding young men?"

Deidara considers this. "Do you guys have hair products, un?"

The salesperson blinks. "My apologies, but no, sir."

"…Damn, un." As he disappears from view, Deidara directs a resentful look around the Prada outlet. "I knew this place was too good to be true."

Kisame has other things on his mind besides listening to Deidara's woes; he takes Tobi by the scruff of the neck as discreetly as possible. "Stop looking at the cocktail dresses like that, kid."

Itachi returns, accompanied by a fine black bag. "We may mobilize." His eyes catalogue his comrades, before he blinks. "…Where is Hidan?"

"Oh, we sent him out looking for other potential stores," Kisame says airily. "We're out in polite society for the first time in years; might as well make the best of it, right?"

Tobi tugs on Kisame's sleeve. "Look, Kisame-san! It's Hidan-san, right outside the window!"

Hidan is, indeed, standing right outside of the window, regarding the Prada outlet with an expression of distaste marring his features. "It's just an excuse for sinful pride and fucking vanity, man," he mumbles, as the other Akatsuki members leave the store and join him. Due to the need to blend in, he is actually wearing a black t-shirt; he plucks at the collar, looking highly uncomfortable.

Deidara rolls his eyes at the resident zealot. "Find anything, un?"

Hidan snorts. "Everything sucks. There was this one place, though – it had all this fucking nasty shit in there, like stuffed animals and cute glass-blown figurines and adorable novelties that nobody even needs and greeting cards with soppy crap written on it—"

Itachi, Kisame, and Deidara all look properly revolted at the very idea of such a place.

Tobi claps his hands ecstatically. "Ooh, Hidan-san, that sounds absolutely perfect! What is this lovely location called, and where is it located?"

Hidan frowns, trying to remember the name. "It was something really fruity, uh, like – like…"

"Hot Topic?" Itachi suggests emotionlessly.

All of them give him incredulous looks. "What kinda store name is that?" Kisame asks, wrinkling up his nose.

Itachi shrugs. "We just passed it, and it looked sufficiently objectionable."

"No, I got it!" Hidan exclaims. "It was – the Hallmark Store. Or something totally pansy-ass like that."

Deidara smirks, slipping on the sunglasses he had nicked from the Chanel outlet. "Hallmark Store, meet Akatsuki, un."

Hidan shudders. "That sounds like a really fucking unholy equation, if you ask me."

"Singing cards," Itachi pronounces slowly. "Paper. That sings."

"Wow," Kisame exhales, as he surveys the massive wall of singing cards for all occasions. "We should definitely get out more."

Itachi retreats half a step. "This defies the natural order of things. I am leaving."

Deidara reaches toward the nearest Happy Birthday card; when he opens it, it promptly breaks out into a rousing chorus of some popular song that nobody seems to know except Tobi, who starts singing along.

"Ugh," Hidan growls, shaking his head. "Too fucking happy. Shut up, swirly-face."

Deidara snaps the card shut. "Okay, un. We'll meet back in front of the giant balloon-thing in fifteen, and each of us should bring a potential card. Make sure it's aesthetically appealing and the singing doesn't completely suck, un."

Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi all disperse obligingly, leaving Itachi standing in front of the wall of cards, regarding them warily. Kisame pats Itachi on the shoulder. "Don't worry. They won't bite."

Itachi sniffs. "…If you say so."

Throughout The Next Hour…

"No, Tobi, we cannot get Sakura a card that sings Lady Marmalade, un."

"Kisame, I feel as if this may be the one occasion in which a Jaws-themed card would be inappropriate."

"Hidan-san, I think that particular card is a little too scary—"

"Itachi, we are not getting Sakura a card that sings music of the death metal…genre."

"Tobi, why the hell would Sakura want a card with a Band-Aid on it, un?"

"Kisame, I think you're the only one who'd like a fucking Finding Nemo card for your birthday."

"Hidan, I do not think Sakura would find a card emblazoned with a giant picture of your god to be – desirable."

"Itachi, Cannibal Corpse is still a death metal band. Put. It. Down."

"Tobi, why are there frolicking multi-colored bears on that? Put it the fuck away!"

"Deidara, Picasso cutting off his ear hardly makes for a great birthday card."

"Kisame, that is far too risqué. I do not want to bump and grind with anybody, as it sounds rather painful and generally objectionable."

"Itachi, so help me Buddha, if you bring one more death metal band over here, I'm drinking the rest of your goddamn Vitamin Water."

After more than an hour of such exchanges, Itachi, Kisame, Hidan, and Deidara are all sitting in front of the giant balloon, looking more than a little discouraged.

"Fuck," Hidan grouses, "dismembering and assassinating people is infinitely preferable to this shit."

Kisame and Deidara nod in agreement, while Itachi merely massages his throbbing temples.

"Where's Tobi, un?" Deidara mumbles. "Maybe this whole horrific ordeal will be better after we send him over across the street to get a strawberry frappuchino."

Kisame un-buries his head from his arms, in order to look through the greeting card aisle curiously. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him in a while."

As if the words themselves had summoned him, Tobi toddles out of a nearby section of the store, clutching yet another singing card in his hands and looking far too pleased with himself for his good. "Comrades!" he exults, clutching the card tighter. "I found it! The perfect card!"

Hidan groans, swatting the air absently. "No. No more. Have mercy. I can't take it."

Not put off in the least by this statement, Tobi kneels in front of them and shows off his find proudly. "Isn't it pretty?"

Itachi regards it with an air of suspicion. "It has a heart on it. Not an anatomically correct one, either. A generic and commercialized heart. I refuse on principle."

Deidara frowns thoughtfully. "No, un – I hate to agree with the dumbass, but it's really aesthetically appealing. The heart isn't too big or too small, and see? It's got every shade of color blended into it perfectly, un."

Kisame leans over, looking at it. "You're right, it's pretty. But really subtle and not obnoxious."

Tobi beams, overjoyed. "Hidan-san?"

"Fucking gorgeous," Hidan mutters reluctantly.

"Sorry, Itachi," Kisame consoles. "It looks like you've been overruled. Hey, Tobi – does it sing?"

"Of course!" Tobi chirps.

Itachi rolls his eyes minutely. "Oh, joy," he deadpans.

Without further ado, Tobi flips the card open; it is blank on the inside, probably to allow for a customized message. Itachi fully supports this idea – he has seen far too many ridiculously sentimental or downright inane messages for one day. Then, however, the card starts to sing.

It is a gentle melody, sung in the soft, sweet tone that Konan sometimes listens to on the nearly-broken stereo when she thinks that all of them are asleep. In a pleasant contrast to the music on the other cards, though, the only featured instrumental within this song is the strumming of a laid-back…ukulele?

There is a whole minute of silence, which is truly a rare occasion, as all of them sit back and listen to the card.

"…No," Itachi croaks, at last. "No."

There is an alarmingly manic look in Deidara's visible eye. "What the hell, un? This song was like, written for you!"

"No," Itachi repeats firmly.

Kisame shrugs sheepishly. "Nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention?" he quotes directly. "That does sound a lot like you."

Itachi stares at him, wordlessly.

"Open up your mind, and see like me? Open up your plans, and damn, you're free." Hidan completes, scowling. "Aren't you trying to convince this irate kunoichi to go out with you even though she has a case of massive denial straight outta hell? This song sends a fucking message, little red-eye."

"And it's a nice message, too," Tobi chips in. "It sounds so sweet and persuasive and gentle and loving!"

Itachi's left eye twitches, and his Sharingan automatically engages, and starts swirling. "I am hardly sweet, persuasive, gentle, or loving. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact."

"Yeah, un, you're a criminalistic, psychotic asshole," Deidara says wisely. "But you're a criminalistic, psychotic asshole who really cares about your girl, and this little song totally conveys the whole caring deal, un."

Kisame stands up decisively, for once, taking advantage of his position as de facto Leader while Pein and Konan are absent. "Tobi, ring it up."

For once in his life, Itachi is reduced to actual, complete speechlessness, before he turns on his partner dangerously. "What?"

"Sorry, Itachi," Kisame apologizes. "You know that I have the greatest amount of respect for you, but I am fairly certain I am acting in your best interests in this case. And everybody else agrees with me, too. And you know how rare that is."

Hidan and Deidara simultaneously give Kisame the finger, even as Tobi comes skipping back, card firmly ensconced in a pink bag, emblazoned with the Hallmark crown. He strikes a dramatic pose. "Let's rock and roll, guys!"

Itachi sweeps out of the store wordlessly, radiating an aura of heightened murderousness. He does not speak a word to any of them until they have returned to Headquarters, and are sitting around the kitchen table; making waffles, drinking Vitamin Water, and eating peppermint ice cream, respectively. "…This had better be successful."

"Oh, it will," Tobi says cheerily, flipping a waffle.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Hidan echoes, mid-swig of Vitamin Water.

Deidara sneers at him. "Yeah, we'll be accepting your endless gratitude when this is all over and done with, un."

"Relax; it'll be fine," Kisame assures.

Itachi blinks, and one of the ants scuttling about near his elbow drops dead spontaneously. "It had better be. Otherwise, I will kill all of you in your sleep."

Deidara smirks. "Oh, really, un? The Itachi I first met would have skinned us alive, before dropping us into vats of boiling oil." He raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Love must be turning you soft, un."

There are a few moments of silence before Itachi unearths his stolen steak knife, and then, predictably enough, all havoc breaks loose.

Afternoon, March 28

Sakura runs her fingers through her hair for what has to be the hundredth time, as she takes yet another look at her massive report detailing the need for medic training to be required for at least one person out of the typical three-man team. The neatly written words seem to swim together and blur into one, and she blinks, thoroughly exhausted.

Then a giant lavender gift bag makes contact with her desk, and Sakura jumps in her seat, startled. "Tenten! Sorry, I just didn't see you there."

The older kunoichi leans down to give her a hug, accepting her thanks with a smile. "You're totally overworked, you know. You had better take the day off tomorrow." She looks around, before lowering her voice conspiratorially. "After all, our spa tickets in the bag are booked for tomorrow, anyway. So that's a sure-fire excuse."

Sakura rolls her eyes affectionately. "How very calculating of you. Anyway, I might call you and Ino tonight, after I get off duty, okay?"

Tenten nods her assent and waves goodbye, as she slips out the door – knowing the nature of her genin team, it isn't particularly wise to leave them alone for anything more than the briefest period of time.

In the next hour, Sakura attempts to revise her paper, but it is a futile endeavor. Ino stops by a few minutes after Tenten and practically sets up camp there, and is soon joined by Neji, Shikamaru, and Kiba, who all bring a various assortment of foods and gifts.

Sakura's small, organized office in the ANBU Department soon declines into full-out party central, thanks to Ino and Kiba's naturally exuberant personalities. They are loudly reminiscing about Sakura's last birthday, in which Lee and Tenten had supervised catering, and had ordered a freakishly huge amount of the spiciest variety of the infamous Curry of Life for dinner. Neji blanches drastically at the very mention of the incident, and is frantically – and unsuccessfully – attempting to derail the dangerous topic of conversation, when the kitten appears on Sakura's desk.

It is an orange kitten, with curiously familiar black, swirly patterns adorning its cute little features. Kiba promptly begins growling, his hackles fairly rising, while Ino attempts to hold him back. Shikamaru observes it curiously. "Animal summons? And what's that package tied to his back – it looks a bit too big for him."

Neji, glad for the change in topic, nods his agreement. "Whose is it?"

Sakura laughs, a little nervously, as she reaches for Tobi's summons; the little marmalade cat meows lovingly, winding through her hands, as the kunoichi prays that whatever is in the delivered package won't be anything incriminating. "Ah, it's just – a group of some Amekagure shinobi I met during a mission a while ago. We've been writing back and forth."

She plucks the ribbon holding the package loose from the cat's midsection; he purrs gratefully. Despite the fact that Kiba has taken refuge against the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, muttering something resentfully about allergies and damned feline dander, Ino joins them, judging the situation correctly from the look on Sakura's face. She stands behind Shikamaru and Neji, looks back and forth between them, and then mouths I'll knock them out if you want me to.

Sakura shakes her head subtly, and begins undoing the pale green tissue wrappings, as the others watch her curiously. With the next movement of her hands, two sleek, beautiful scarves fall out onto her desk, intertwined with one another.

Even the male shinobi are unable to suppress soft inhalations upon sighting the vibrant colors; Ino, however, squeaks and clutches at her throat. "Are those Prada?"

"I think so…"

Astonished, Sakura reaches out to touch them, but Kiba tosses his head to the air and sniffs. "Wait, there's more in the package thingy."

Wondering what more there could be, Sakura reaches into the wrappings, gropes around for a moment, and finally comes out with a square, crystalline bottle, stoppered with a solid onyx prism. Neji steals the words out of her mouth – "Chanel No. 5?" he asks incredulously.

Everybody takes a moment to cease in their awe of Sakura's presents in order to give him astonished looks. He raises his hands defensively. "I purchased some for Hinata's last birthday, all right?"

Shikamaru and Kiba snigger behind their hands, and Neji glowers.

"Wow, Sakura," Ino says mischievously. "Who are these Amekagure shinobi, anyway? With money like this, they must be like – clan heirs, or something!"

Sakura glares daggers at her. "Perhaps."

The kitty takes a moment to step forward, before pawing delicately at the pink tissue paper.

"Ugh, it looks like the demon spawn's on to something," Kiba mumbles, before attempting to place Ino between himself and the cat.

Tobi's cat summons had been right; Sakura tentatively unearths a card from the very bottom of the packaging. "Aww, it's so pretty," Ino coos.

Shikamaru regards it critically. "Not anatomically correct, but pretty."

"What are you waiting for?" Kiba teases, draping an arm over Ino's shoulders. "Open it. Unless it's got some kind of hot, steamy love note written on the inside and you'd prefer to save that for later."

Sakura smirks at him. "Hardly."

Without taking a moment to consider things further, Sakura flips the card open.

Again, Neji, Shikamaru, and Kiba all recoil when they hear it break into song. Ino squeals. "It sings!"

All of them are preoccupied with the novel concept, and Sakura takes the opportunity to tilt the card up a little, reading the inscription, which is written in Deidara's customary loopy script and red gel pen.

Dear Sakura,

Hope you like the stuff. And we didn't steal it, either, so there's no need to be worried. Anyway, you're totally irate, a candidate for a heart attack brought on by high blood pressure (according to Bruce over here), kinda crazy, and a totally dangerous badass, to boot. Which pretty much means you fit in with us quite well, no matter what you'd like to think. Anyway, your ridiculous degree of loyalty aside, you're…unique. Or something like that. Happy birthday!

(here, Sakura observes with a frown, there are several mysterious scribbles)

…Okay, well, I meant to say Love, on account of it being your birthday and all. But Little Red-Eye said I couldn't.

Cordially,

The Cool Kids

P.S: The song? It's from Little Red-Eye.

(Sakura is downright startled when she sees several spatters of what look like blood after this statement, before the handwriting and writing utensil changes abruptly, into blue ink.)

…Uh. It's 'Bruce.' Deidara just his hand broken and a giant gash cut across his left arm. You could probably guess the perpetrator. Anyway, many happy returns and stuff. 'Tobias' says he loves you and that you're his bestest friend. The, um, resident priest says to give his regards to your mother. And I just wanted to tell you to remember your breathing exercises and stuff.

Sakura blinks.

"Hm," Neji offers, as he reads it over her shoulder. "Who is Little Red-Eye?"

Sakura forces a smile. "He's just…one of the guys. He's got a perpetual case of conjunctivitis that he can't seem to shake, and they like to, uh, mock him."

"Ah."

She looks up, to find Ino and Kiba waltzing in the amount of free space in the office, while Shikamaru taps along with the beat of the singing card with his fingers. He offers her a lazy smile. "Your friends have some good taste in music, you know."

For the first time, Sakura actually listens to it; she realizes, with a jolt, that had been one of her favorite songs from the previous year. Nobody knows this, of course – it's a sweet, romantic tune, reduced to guilty pleasure status. And there is no way Itachi, of all people, could have guessed. It must have been a coincidence. A weird, random coincidence; he had probably picked the first somewhat-decent looking card off the shelf.

But as she listens to the lyrics, for the first time in about a year, Sakura blinks, her usual composure cracking a little.

"Eh, Sakura?" Shikamaru asks mildly, and she notices, starting slightly, that they had all been staring at her. "What's up?"

Sakura looks up at him, attempting to generate some semblance of her customary attitude. "Oh, nothing! I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Ino gives her a look that is far too knowing for her own good. "All right, guys," she declares, clapping her eyes. "We've taken up Sakura's time for long enough – the sooner we get out of here, the sooner she can finish her paper, go home, and get some rest, so that we can all party tomorrow. Is that clear?"

Neji and Shikamaru nod; they wish her happy birthday one last time, and Shikamaru ruffles her hair on their way out. Ino and Kiba leave soon afterward, with slightly mischievous smiles.

In privacy, once again, Sakura takes a deep, shuddering breath, burying her fingers in her hair. Tobi's cat-summons mews worriedly, rubbing his little pink nose against hers.

After a few moments of thought, she pulls out a sheet of memo paper and her customary purple gel pen from a nearby drawer.

Itachi,

Meet me at the Fire Country border at sunset.

-Sakura

She places it in the cat's mouth, and it meows softly. "Thank you," Sakura murmurs, petting it.

The kitty licks her one last time, around the paper, before disappearing in a swirl of confetti; leaving Sakura completely alone with her thoughts.

Akatsuki Headquarters

"Okay, un," Deidara says firmly. "If you screw this up, don't bother coming back. Just go to the nearest retired elderly person center and start selling your poetry, un."

Kisame gives him a dirty look. "You're not going to screw anything up, Itachi."

"I really fucking hate to say this," Hidan rolls his eyes, "but I've got faith in you, little red-eye."

Itachi blinks. "Thank you. I can live a much happier and more fulfilling life, now that I have your approval."

"…Pushing it, little red-eye. Pushing it."

Tobi bounces up and down, excited. "Ooh, Itachi-san! Do you feel ready? Are you pumped?"

"Yes," Itachi deadpans, his features as impassive as ever.

Kisame scowls at him in what could almost be termed as an affectionate manner, before pushing him out of the door. "Oh, get out. And don't forget to grab some flowers on the way there."

The door slams behind him, and Itachi looks somewhat pained.

Konoha

The second Sakura finishes her paper, she deposits it on the Hokage's desk and slips out of the Tower; it only takes five minutes for her to obtain security clearance, and then she is out in the forest, heading north, toward the Fire Country's borders.

It is an hour of steady, continuous traveling, but her mind is whirring so speedily that the time just seems to fly by. That is, until she spots the black-and-red cloaked figure, standing in the center of the clearing.

Sakura touches down swiftly and silently, but he turns, anyway, and she sees that he is clutching a shriveled, black rose in one white-knuckled fist.

"Uchiha," she says, levelly.

Itachi's grip tightens slightly around the rose. "…Sakura."

Within a few moments, she has advanced upon him, so that they are almost nose-to-nose. Sakura places her hands on her hips as she looks up at him, and the slight evening breeze ruffles her hair. "…If I agree to date you, will you leave me alone?"

Itachi blinks, momentarily confused. "I admit that my knowledge of such fields is limited, but I am fairly certain that is not how such matters are supposed to be handled; although I am sure that we could work out an alternative arrangement, if that is what you wish."

It takes a moment for him to realize that Sakura's hands have left her hips; she reaches up, tentatively placing them on his shoulders, and slipping them up behind his neck. "Maybe it's just your lucky day, Itachi," she murmurs softly, and slowly, "but it just so happens that is not what I wish."

"…Ah." Itachi pauses, for a moment, fully intending to listen for the detonation of clay explosives or rampaging, genetically altered teenagers, but Sakura has no such reservations.

In the next moment, sooner than he can blink, her hands have tangled in his hair, pulling him down to her level, and then, clay explosives and rampaging, genetically altered teenagers have suddenly become the very last thing on Itachi's mind.

From the shelter of the nearby treetops, Kisame snickers, as he watches Itachi tentatively pull his newfound girlfriend closer to him. "Hey, Deidara," he whispers. "You owe me a year's supply of Vitamin Water. And five thousand yen."

Deidara glares at the couple sourly. "That's nauseating, un. Positively sickening." Nevertheless, he grudgingly removes five thousand-yen bills from an inner pocket of his cloak and tosses them over to the shark-man. To his surprise, though, Kisame has already turned to go. "Where are you going, un?"

Kisame turns around. "Back to Headquarters, of course. I'm sure Itachi would want us, as the chief engineers of this master plot, to spread the happy news."

Deidara grins evilly. "We can make his life miserable for the rest of forever, un. Hey, what do you think – better than ANBU Romance, un?"

Kisame smirks, taking another look at the unaware, and unlikely, couple. "Better than ANBU Romance. And that, my obnoxious friend, is definitely saying something."

the end.

…

OMG! :D

Now, I would like to engage in a quick vote. There may be an epilogue, but that's up to you. You may say "AYE" if you want an epilogue, and "GTFO YOU CRAZY TEENAGER" if you object to an epilogue.

But wait.

If you are reluctant to commit to such a vague idea, let me first inform you that the epilogue will not be lame. It will not be one of those Harry-Potter-esque "All was well" epilogues. It will be freakin' beast, and it will involve features including, but not limited to:

- An insane mission

- A wedding (but whose?)

- Awkward socialization

And the ultimate and epic showdown between none other than Sasuke and Itachi. Yeah. That too.

So, yeah. Vote, if you are so inclined.

Oh, and on a slightly more frivolous note? Today was my sixteenth birthday. Show some love? :)