Pulse
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Beat Two
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Music pulsed through the air as she drew up to the quaint cobbled road and looked up to see streamers hanging from between the tall, stone houses. Once they might have been bright, but time had dulled them. The smell of sweat, sweet syrup and something spicy enveloped her for a moment as her shoulders slumped and she drew on her quickly emptying reserves of courage and love. A sight that caught her roving eyes made her spine stiffed and her head snap up.
Those eyes - scarlet as fresh arterial blood, or the cherry tomatoes Sasuke loved so much - were utterly unmistakeable.
Sharingan.
The word tasted heady on her lips; like the first intoxicating sip of strong alcohol filling her mouth, burning down her throat. Closing her eyes against a sudden rush of fear, Sakura reached into her pouch and touched the moist, rotting flesh carried there.
The shining line that glared behind her eyelids was so bright it was like looking directly at the sun. She felt a little dizzy when she realised that; yes, she was a stone's throw away from Uchiha Itachi, and yes, this might be the only chance to find Sasuke she would ever truly get again, and, yes, yes, yes, Itachi might just decide to kill her now that he had seen her. Although, he had probably known she was coming for quite some time.
Upon opening her eyes, she found him standing much closer. Watching. Waiting. Some instinct - as razor sharp, ancient, integral, and instinctive as breathing - told her to smile; she did so as warmly as possible. He blinked. A single stunted movement that told her he hadn't expected such a greeting.
Up close his face was pale and blank - all angles and hard lines with the two deepest running parallel on either side of his face. He was unmistakeably handsome in the cold way Sasuke was, but Itachi showed the signs of stress and hard-living that Sasuke didn't. Or, at least, hadn't the last time she saw him. She shut down that train of thought just as it started and smoothed her shaking hand down her skirt, the fabric beneath her fingers felt strangely rough and unfamiliar.
He pointed at her and crooked his finger slightly in a "come here" gesture. She knew there were hundreds of people around them; flowing between them like water, but all she saw was him. He turned around sharply and walked down a dark alley that Sakura hadn't noticed before. It was like a void of colour, of life. Her feet moved to follow. In the comparative darkness, his eyes glittered like precious stones. Just as hard and unfeeling.
"I want to make a deal with you, Uchiha Itachi."
He shifted to face her fully. There was an ease in the sinuous way he moved; slow and sure, like the stirring of a snake preparing to strike. It was odder still when juxtaposed with the loud, vibrant music that pounded all around them. Strangely muted now though. She blamed the alley; with it's towering, surrounding brick walls. Something about the atmosphere was off, even the slightest rustle of Itachi's cloak seemed amplified.
Sakura didn't know what to do with her hands. She wondered if Kakashi was watching, white knuckled, and ready to step in at any moment, or if he had left her to flounder in the mess she had made herself and didn't yet regret. She wondered why Uchiha Itachi hadn't done anything yet. By this point she half expected to be little more than a smear on the cobbles at her feet. Her mind chose that moment to remind her that Akatsuki always travelled in pairs.
"You are aware," he paused, "Sakura-san, that this is entirely the wrong place to be discussing business. Especially that which involves treason."
"This is as good a place as any," Forced itself from her throat before she could stop it. Alien and distant sounding.
"Look around you, can't you feel them? Hm. For one who could track me so effectively I would think you could."
It was at that moment she saw a parallel between the two brothers - both could exhibit the most blasé cruelty in just a few words. Swallowing her pride, Sakura asked him what he meant and waited patiently for the answer.
"Konoha ANBU."
It felt as though her blood had turned to ice in her veins and her heart had turned to a frozen, cracking lump... that was why Kakashi had looked almost smug when he had discussed this. He knew. The perceived betrayal behind that tasted bitter in her mouth and removed any logic that might have found other, softer, feelings. This had gone too far to turn back now.
"Where?" she half-whispered.
"Not quite at our heels, but not far off it." His voice almost echoed in her head.
The use of "our" jarred her a little, but she collected herself quickly. This was the time to tell him - ANBU and Kakashi be damned. She was already standing at the edge of the abyss, what was one more step.
"You know who I am. I want you to help me find Sasuke. In return I will -"
Itachi dead-panned, "Let us discuss this elsewhere."
He lifted one hand slowly, as though not to startle her. Sakura was ashamed of the way she flinched. There was a difference between facing someone in open ground surrounded by teammates, and this. He stepped closer and she found herself focused on the exposed skin of the underside of his wrist as he moved to grasp her hand - feeling strangely faint. The light blue tracing of veins beneath the alabaster skin reminded her that he really was a living, breathing person just like her, and not an idol of evil or an abstract object of revenge.
She watched him do this as though it was not happening to her. The music around them grew even more faint. Some part of her mind knew what was happening, but could do nothing to stop it. His eyes were pinpoints of light in the darkness, like fireflies floating in the muggy air.
In a way so gentle it made her instantly think he was going to hurt her, Itachi turned her hand up so that her palm faced the starless sky. He was staring, still and brittle, at the blood that was smeared across her hand. Some of it was dried in rusty, flaking streaks, but other sections were vivid and damp. With one slender finger Itachi lightly touched the centre of her palm, staining his finger with red.
A sense of dulled alarm began to pulse in her mind in time with her heartbeat. If ANBU were just coming, why was he remaining here?
Itachi raised that hand to eye level, pursed his thin lips slightly and stared at it as though it was a deeply challenging puzzle. There was another tense moment of silence as he rubbed his forefinger and thumb together until the blood had smeared over them both and dried almost to the colour of the incongruously gaudy ring on his hand. Sakura remained absolutely frozen as he did this, but not with fear. She hadn't done that since she was twelve years old.
"Ah," he said, finally, "I see what you did. Foolish of me to leave that there."
The callous way he referred to the person he had used, and then allowed to die, as that made a prickle of anger run down her spine. Nothing like the waves of hot, close fury that usually emanated in waves through her body. When Sakura felt anger, she really felt it. There was no lukewarm irritation, or middle ground. When she looked down at the ground, with its sweet, cobbled path it looked just like a blur of greys and blacks. As though the two of them were the only clear, unfoggy things in the entire world.
Genjutsu.
Sakura hadn't realised she had spoken the world aloud until Itachi smiled the smallest, bitterest smile she had ever seen just before blackness swamped her vision in a tidal wave.
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When she woke up it was still dark, the air still smelled sweet-ish and carried the sounds of the festival with it just barely. She couldn't have been out long. Sakura's eyes flickered quickly around her surroundings - a bare, but seemingly clean wooden lodge - before focusing on the figure of Uchiha Itachi without his cloak on. He looked compact, lithe and lazy as a cat dozing in the sun, head propped up on one hand.
Surrounded by close, heavy darkness, fear rolled in and over-spilled the crisp, fearless logic she always tried to keep intact. Normal eyes wouldn't have been able to see the way her skin went so pale that the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose stood out like splatters of black paint on a white wall. With his faintly glowing, banked coal Sharingan eyes, Itachi would be able to see this as clear as day.
"When did you start the genjutsu?"The words came out barely a whisper and slightly cracked, but Sharingan could read lips.
"When I pointed at you in the crowd. I felt it would be better to move somewhere less," he paused,"open." Not a word wasted.
"The ANBU?" She didn't mention Kakashi.
Itachi's eyes lowered to a heavy, half-mask as he seemed to think about answering. His expression did not change, but his fingers twitched against the arm of the chair slightly. She wondered why he was humouring her. Sakura felt a sickening jolt as she stared at his thin lips and saw that they were almost the same as Sasuke's, and moved with the same mannerisms.
"Are being taken care of by my partner, Kisame." She had no illusions as to what being 'taken care of' meant.
There was another long pause. She had been so ready to make her offer, but now the words dried up like a puddle of water on a hot day. His presence proved more distracting than she could have imagined.
"You are aware that this stunt of yours is most irritating. Especially given recent events." He said, finally. Sakura was transfixed by the way his fingers moved slowly over the arm of his chair. He could kill her so easily...
Still, she considered his words. The extraction of a jinchūriki would probably take a considerable amount of chakra... combine that with the strange jutsu that he had used to fight them with Yuura's body and even an S-class nin had to be feeling it. The weight of his gaze made her jump to the chase.
"Sasuke, where is he?"
"Why should I divulge such information?" a pause in which neither spoke before he said, "I was responsible the destruction of all your Sasuke held dear... and, one day, I will take Naruto-kun too. Yet, you still remain here," he murmured in a low voice like she imagined a lover would.
There was something in the low baritone of his voice that she found calming. Like a venus fly-trap emitting a sweet scent to lure insects. The vague husky note to it made her more uncomfortable that it did relaxed... It made her, she felt her heart pound a little faster despite her attempts to control it, take notice of just how alone they were. Just how much she was at the mercy of this man.
And, really, he was a man. That she was more aware than ever in that instant.
"I was instrumental in the death of your comrade," she snapped back, feeling her temper rising to smother the dark, cloying fear.
His fingers drummed against the arm of the chair at that as he let out a short, sharp, exhalation that might almost have been a laugh. The taps of his fingers against the worn wood were like a little warning - a soft reprimand as though she was a naughty child saying things she shouldn't.
"But we are ninja, that is what we do," he muttered, eyes flashing in the darkness like the sweeping illumination of a lighthouse," are you expecting..." Itachi rolled his tongue around the syllables as though he was savouring them, "anger... retribution."
Sakura felt as though she had wandered into a trap and felt it snap closed on her. He seemed amused by her. Amused. That sick bastard. He wasn't taking this seriously at all. She still had Sasori's heart beneath her fingernails and he petted her like a kitten. When she didn't answer all the humour drained from his face leaving her wondering how she had even managed to detect it at all - the changes in his expression were so small.
"I don't care what it takes; I don't care if he hates me. I'll do anything to find him and bring him back," Sakura said, meeting his eyes steadily and ignoring her dry mouth and quivering fingers.
Itachi stood in a single fluid movement that made her jerk back and reach for a kunai instinctively (though she found that, predictably, he had taken them all). He paused for a moment as though to indicate without words that he did not intend to attack, before walking over to a table entrenched in shadow on one side of the small room. She hadn't noticed it before - so focused on the presence of a predator.
He stood behind one of the chairs and pulled it out - the audible sound of wood scraping against wood made her shudder as the sound rolled across her skin like many tiny, scratching fingernails. For a second, Sakura didn't realise why he was standing motionless behind the chair and watching her with calm, near unblinking eyes that were reminiscent of tiny red suns.
Scrambling to her feet, she walked over in as cool a manner as she could manage and sat in the chair he had so courteously held out for her. The situation had crossed the border into surreal long ago.
"You have not eaten in some time. Your chakra is fluctuating," he stated, as he walked through a small open door into what she could only assume was the kitchen.
Of course he knew that. He knew everything. She frowned and was ready to argue against him, but a look silenced her. She knew how much she was depending on his mood being favourable.
When Itachi returned, food in hand, Sakura was mildly surprised.
"Dango?" The sceptical statement escaped her before she could stop it.
"Do you not like it?" came the bland reply.
"No... No, it's fine."
He handed her the sweet dumplings carefully, his fingers lightly brushing against hers as the treat switched hand. For some reason, she felt ridiculous eating in front of him; especially due to the fact that he seemed able to stare at her and not feel an ounce of shame. She felt like spitting; copying my eating technique? - at him, but he would surely skewer her with the dango sticks.
The way he ate - neatly but with flashes of his teeth and tongue - made her stomach coil in a way that was entirely unsettling and not entirely unpleasant. She had quickly had enough of the silence that lay between them.
Her fingers crept to the pouch on her thigh when she thought he wouldn't notice, hidden as her hand was by the table. The tell-tale lightness already indicated that it was gone, but Sakura wanted to check, to feel. The only thing inside the pouch was a mulchy mess of congealed blood and a few loose threads.
"I destroyed it. Any such link to myself was not something I could allow to remain." He was, apparently, omniscient.
The way this situation mirrored the one with Kakashi not so long ago made her head spin. Only with Itachi she wasn't so afraid to address the elephant in the room.
"Well, this is cosy," she heard herself say, tone biting.
Something like a smile crept across his face, but in the darkness it was hard to tell," I wondered when you would become impatient."
The way he was toying with her didn't mesh with the ruthless efficiency she had been taught to expect. Getting right to the point never hurt, so Sakura went straight for it again.
"I can heal your eyes for you."
"Do you think me so naive? - to allow an enemy to heal me."
She felt her heart stutter in her chest as she watched him. To come so far just to be struck down. Perhaps this was just some kind of entertainment for him - the chase; making her lower her guard, give her hope and then finish her. Sakura wasn't ready to back down now. She reached for the arm slung casually by his side - moving her hand with exaggerated slowness so that he did not feel she was attacking. She did not lower her eyes from his; she had nothing to hide.
Clasping his loose hand in both of hers she drew it up until his palm lay flat against her collarbone, just before the swell of her profoundly unimpressive chest. The slightest crease between his eyebrows drew her attention before it smoothed as his expression became flat again.
"Anything you want."
Itachi's fingers curled against her skin as she heard him inhale audibly - if it hadn't been so quiet in the room she wouldn't have noticed.
There was a moment of stillness before Itachi surged forward like a force of nature. His hands dove into her petal-coloured hair as he half dragged her across the table towards him. Thoughts of the act did not prepare her for the real, living breathing thing. He was pinned her in place with his Sharingan, she couldn't move - that almost helped.
Her head was tilted - offering her neck in an age-old symbol of deference. She stared at the dark, wooden ceiling and tried so hard to think of Sasuke; his pale, corded muscles, and his complete and utter coldness. Itachi paused with his lips hovering just above hers; she didn't think that he would kiss her during the act.
An electric current swept across her parted lips that was like a ghostly anticipation of touch. The feeling of his hot, harsh breath washing across her skin, and his cold fingers holding her in place intensified the discomfort she felt in that awkward position. At the last moment, he bypassed her lips and settled his forehead against her bared throat. Sakura stared at the roof above her steadily, felt the weight of him against her and the fleeting feeling of his hard teeth against her skin - it took a second to dismiss the animal fear that he might rip her throat out with his teeth.
"I wondered if you would... So brazen, so foolish as to try this with me," Itachi spoke against the soft, vulnerable skin of her neck - the harshness of his words juxtaposed sharply with the softness of his breath ghosting across her skin.
He stilled against her, a fine tremor that might have been stifled laughter running through his body before he straightened back to the perfect, regal, posture she had already become familiar with. His face was a blank slate once more, but his eyes positively burned. He pushed her back from his body and held her back by her forearms - the table still between them. He made her feel filthy in a single gesture. She still couldn't move.
"And you would have done it," Itachi said, quietly.
The tilt of his lips took on a distinctly self-derisive look. Sakura felt her stomach heave - the dango almost too much for the sensitive organ. The scar from Sasori's sword itched and burned with an intensity that was both distracting and frightening.
"I keep my word," Sakura said, levelly.
"Though you realise I cannot let you go alive now, my partner knows you are here."
It felt as though she was choking. Maybe someone actually had been following them, and maybe that someone had been Hoshigaki Kisame. The only reason they had let her live was probably Naruto. She was the perfect bait. She was a fool, but she still didn't regret it - she would push for what she had come for. This man was not at all like he had been portrayed to her.
"Why didn't you just kill me to start with?"
He tilted his head minutely before answering, "Curiosity. The fact that I could use you as a decoy for the ANBU. Your connection to the Kyuubi... You must realise that you are useful."
Sasuke would never have said such a thing. Sakura was surprised by that comment and one other glaring thing about him; his openness to touch. She had not expected that. Sasuke was so untouchable - so distant - like a star. She could count on one hand the number of times that she had any significant contact with him. He flinched away from everyone - treated her as though her touch was unwanted and borderline repulsive. Sasuke...
This was not Sasuke.
The way Uchiha Itachi sought touch was almost hungry.
His hands were still firmly placed on her forearms. She wondered if this was a need borne out of a lack of human contact in general. A frown creased her brow as she thought of the way it paralled her own desire for human touch - but, hers was caused by the death of her parents, and the root of his was probably the same. The causes of those deaths, however, were worlds away from each other. The fact that she had to remind herself of his atrocity was disheartening.
She placed her small hand over one of his in a way that couldn't be interpreted as violent from any mindset - ready to try and push him for what she had come for one last time, death threats be damned.
Itachi's thin lips parted, but his words were no longer directed at her,"Kakashi-san, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
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Well, that's chapter two done! Not much to say other than I hope you enjoyed it.
Silver ~