Chapter One

13 February, Monday. 13:06

Dear Journal,

So, you see, I was busy walking down a dingy grey building and crossing an alleyway, on my way back to my apartment from school with my heavy bag on my back filled with textbooks and my phone in my hands, earphones in my ears. That was when I heard screaming that I could hear even with music blasting in my ears.

I backed up a bit and peeked around the corner of the grey building and peered through the dark into the alleyway. There I saw someone shifting about and another person holding something and shaking it. When I took a closer look I saw a man holding a gun to another man's head.

I bit back a gasp and covered my mouth, slipping my earphones off so I could call the police. It's not every day you see someone about to kill an innocent person that probably didn't know what he was doing. But hey, I don't know the story. I'm just jumping to conclusions.

Mean guy wants to kill other guy.

That's all I needed to know to call the Konoha Police Department. It was mostly run by Itachi's dad. But Itachi is actually not gonna become a police officer, instead he's busy taking courses to become a psychologist.

I know that's adorable, shush, just fangirl (or fanboy) inside your head like I always do. Ya know I have an Inner Sakura? She's really creepy, and really frustrating.

I heard that! Or . . . read that . . . oh, shut up, you talk too much.

Ya see what I mean?

My phone rang twice before a gruff voice reached my ears. I didn't even wait for a simple "Hello" and just blurted out the location of where I was and what I was seeing. They said they would be there in two minutes and told me not to engage the man in any sort of combat that could harm me. But I had to keep him distracted and in place until they came.

The man with the gun was starting to move out of the alley, so I panicked. I had literally no idea what to do and my brain was going into freak-out overload. I've been getting those a lot these days.

So I stepped in the exit of the alley with the bravest expression I could muster. I threw my backpack onto the floor along with my phone (which I tucked into the front pocket of my bag). I had my nifty black pocketknife I got last year from Sasuke for my birthday in my hand, hidden behind my back.

"Oi," the man with the gun said, "move it, girly."

I scowled at him. Then I looked past his shoulder with a confused expression (which I faked, duh). "I'm sorry, sir. Why aren't you helping that man over there?" I asked, gesturing to the unconscious person in the alley.

The man looked over his shoulder, and I took that opportunity to memorize his features as best as I could if the police didn't catch him. Puny brown eyes, wrinkles, creases by the eyes, large ugly mole beneath ear, thin lips, small stubby nose (with a lot of hair, might I add), near bald head and hollowed cheeks.

He looked back at me and narrowed his dull brown eyes, his face wrinkled further and his chapped lips pressed into a thin line. All in all, he was quite ugly.

"It's nothing of my concern, excuse me." He tried to walk around me, but I stepped to my side, blocking him again.

That was when he looked murderous.

The only thing going through my head was this . . .

'WHY THE FUCK AREN'T THOSE UCHIHAS HERE YET?! I'M TOO FUCKING YOUNG TO DIEEEEEE!'

And thanks to that thought, the sounds of sirens were heard.

I have no idea why the police would be as stupid as to have their sirens blaring about when they actually just should be stealthy and clonk the person guilty on the head (with a frying pan . . . I LOVE RAPUNZEL AND EUGENE AND MAXIMUS AND PASCAL AND PRETTY MUCH EVEREYTHING FROM THE MOVIE CALLED 'TANGLED'!). It honestly isn't necessary to let Suna know what's going on down here at Konoha. Because I'm more than 100% sure they can hear these sirens there.

The man in front of me tried to make a mad dash for it, but I gripped onto his black jacket. He tried to slap my hand away, screaming, "Let me go, I'll kill you!"

I held on as tight as I could without falling over and then saw something lying on the side of the pavement. It was his gun. He dropped it when I clutched onto him.

I managed to maneuverer the gun to my side with my foot, and then bent down to pick it up, standing straight again as soon as the gun was in my hands. Pointing the gun at the air, I pulled the trigger, but no sound of a bullet came. I tried again, and again, but then realised the gun was empty.

The man tried even harder to move out of my grip, but kicked him in the shin hard, causing his knees to buckle and fold beneath him. "It's empty, you bitch!" he screamed at me, trying to crawl away.

In the corner of my eye, I saw an Uchiha running toward us at blinding speed. But my palms were beginning to sweat and the man's jacket was slipping out of my fingers. So I did what I had to.

"The gun's empty," I started, holding him down for just a bit longer, "but I've still got the gun, idiot." And with that, I banged him on the side of his head as hard as I could. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he went limp, dropping to the floor.

I dropped the gun and stepped back as fast as I could, walking backwards a bit too quickly and tripping on a crack in the cement. Before I could fall, my back met the front of a hard, well-built chest.

And damn, was that scent of rainwater and smoke familiar. My head whirled with the thoughts of who could be my saviour when a smooth voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I am unsure whether that was the stupidest or bravest thing you could do, Sakura-san."

You guessed it. Cliché moment when *gasp*, it's OM-effin-G Itachi! Yeah. I don't know why he was there, though. I was just glad.

I swear my brain was so foggy with his tantalizing scent I almost forgot how to talk.

So, me, being me, ended up saying something unintelligible like, "Nguuuh?"

Yeah, way to go Sak.

And the demon called Inner Sakura interrupts my thoughts once again. Well she can't really interrupt when she is my thoughts. Hmm.

And then I was put steadily on my feet, and I found myself mourning the loss of Itachi's warmth. Okay, okay, accuse me of being a fangirl all you want but, hey, you can't blame me.

"Either way, Sakura-san. Thank you," I heard Itachi tell me.

I whirled around to face him with a grin. If you're wondering why I was grinning, I just gotta ask you this . . .

What the hell would you do if Itachi Uchiha was standing right in front of you, thanking you in that SEXY voice of his, HUH?!

Exactly, now shut up, you talk too much.

"It was a pleasure, Itachi-san!" I said a bit too enthusiastically. I swear my face was flashing neon red at that moment when Itachi took a step closer to me and grasped my hand. He lifted it to his face between us and his (gorgeous, mesmerising, absolutely hypnotic) eyes narrowed.

"You're hurt," was all he said for me to blink out of my stupor. Upon closer inspection, I saw my left wrist bruising with a few shallow cuts on my knuckles. It was probably from when mean guy with the gun tried to pry my hands off his jacket.

"Oh," I whispered. "Um, I didn't notice. It's fine. I'll just bandage it up at home and—"

I was cut off when Itachi's lips descended upon mine.

. . . Seriously, Sak?

LOL! Just joking. That would happen only in my dreams.

You bet, only it's not just the kissing we do . . .

Gah! SHUSHSUSHUSHSUHSUHSUSUHUSSHUUSSHHUUHHSUSHUSHHHH!

Okay, okay! Jeesh!

I was actually cut off when Itachi pulled me towards the direction of his sleek black Audi, saying "Come with me. I'm taking you home."

I wasn't sure if he was talking about his home or my home.

Please be his. Please be his. Please be his. Please be his.

Shush it, Inner.

Ha-ha.

Actually it was my home.

Aww…

Shut up, you knew it as well as I did. You were right there when he told me.

Oh yeah, good point.

Ugh, these Sakuras.

Ha-ha.

Anyway, enough about my conversation with Inner and more about the fact that I was going to ride in a damn cool car with a damn cool psychologist to-be.

Be jelouuuuus.

Same day. 13:48

Anyway, I'm busy writing this in his car, and my writing is going all wonk-a-doodle-cookoo because of this damn bumpy road.

Yeah, and – OH SHIT HE'S LOOKING AT ME – I don't know what to say!

I think that I should pro—

Oh, sorry, Itachi was just talking to me . . .

"Is that a journal?" he asked.

And then my face heated up. I swear. I'm sort of busy writing in you with my back turned to Itachi just a bit. It's really uncomfortable but I gotta write down what happened while it's still fresh in my mind.

"Yeah," I said, nodding. In the side mirror I saw my face, and was wondering why no one mistook me for a tomato yet.

Hmm.

Okay I've gotta go now, Itachi's talking to me.

Byeeeee!

Same day. 14:42

Dear Journal,

Okay, so right now I'm on my couch while idiot-Naruto and emo-Sasuke is in the kitchen making supper.

Sasuke usually comes over to my place because he finds the Uchiha compound suffocating and his mother even more suffocating. Although I know that egotistic bastard loves his mother more than any woman in the world, and he loves Itachi.

Hehe.

But whenever I say, "Aww, Sasuke LOOOOOOVES his bro-bro, doesn't he? Oh yes he does! Oh yes he does! Good boy!" he always shoos my hand away with his ever famous scowl and says, "I don't love him, you brat. I just look up to him. And I'm not a fucking dog!"

And Naruto comes over because, come on, he's bound to get bored of his lifetime supply of instant ramen sometime. Right?

Although I made that theory, I sort of doubt it.

He probably just comes for my kitty-katty named Soul. She is a gorgeous little thing with sparkly grey eyes and inky black fur. She's taken quite a liking to Sasuke, probably because they both hate Naruto (not that the idiot blonde notices with Soul) and they both have way too much ego for their own good.

Yeah, that's probably it.

Anyway, in the car with Itachi, after I put you away, Itachi told me that he used to keep a journal from elementary school all the way up to when he graduated high-school. He is currently in his second year at Konoha University.

I was really interested in that little fact. "Did you write in it every day?" I asked him.

He paused a bit, thinking about his answer before finally speaking again. "Not really," he said. "In all honesty, I only just wrote ridiculously long passages from time to time when something big occurred. In between I would put in details of what happened a few days ago or something of that sort."

I nodded thoughtfully. "That's really cool. That's sorta like me. Yeah, and all the pages are filled with sarcastic comments of things that happened. I honestly love looking back at what I wrote and think that in a few years' time, when I read my journal again, I'm gonna have a great time. That's why I make it as funny as I want now."

Yeah. That wasn't really something very nonchalant and cool to say, but hey, it's the truth.

And then Itachi chuckled, and good god I think I saw the faintest dip of a . . .

Oh shit.

Uh-huh.

A DIMPLE!

Om-effin-g. Itachi has a dimple. Why didn't I notice earlier? I'm so very ashamed at myself for not have noticing earlier. I very much wanted to reach over and just… poke the little indentation lightly. I wonder how he would react.

His eyes would probably narrow and his smile would probably fade.

So, poking his dimple is officially crossed off from my list of 'what to do to Itachi'.

Don't you dare let your mind wander to what else might be on that list . . .

Anyway, I didn't poke his dimple (Why, reality?! Why must you be so, so, so cruel?!) Wait a minute; we all know the answer to that question.

Moving on!

Instead of poking his dimple like I really wanted to, I giggled at the idea of it. Like seriously, outwardly, physically, in-a-way-that-anyone-else-can-see giggled. I don't know what had been wrong with me, but I'm 75% sure I hope I never find out.

And the Itachi looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a teeny-weeny smile. "What's so funny?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I just realised you have an adorable dimple," I said, looking out the window again. After a few seconds ticked by, I gasped and slapped my fingers over my mouth painfully, realising what I had just said.

And that was when the laughing started.

You read that right, Itachi Uchiha was laughing.

Not like . . . the type of side-splitting, roll-on-the-floor, mouth gaping laughter I have. More of the breathy, disbelieving laughter that was all Itachi.

As hard as it seems to believe, it happened.

He dropped me off at my apartment not long after that and I swung my door open to see a red-faced Naruto and a pink-faced Sasuke.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at both of them. Naruto was on the couch while Sasuke was leaning right over him, one knee next to his hip and hands gripping the edge of the couch next to Naruto's head. "What were you two . . . doing?"

Sasuke sputtered and sprung away from Naruto while Naruto's previously red face drained of all colour. "I -I . . . It's not what you think! He . . . I . . . God! Sakura, nothing happened. It was just an accident!"

I grinned devilishly. "Well," I drawled, cocking my hip to one side and resting my knuckles to it while I put my cheek in the palm of my other hand. Total devious/sexy-girl pose. "Did this . . . accident have anything to do with a little smoochity-smooch?" I asked, puckering my lips and leaning in with heavy-lidded eyes.

Sasuke and Naruto stammered and shouted that I was wrong as I just threw my head back and laughed maniacally.

Oh yeah.

They are so gay.

And I am so evil!

Cha!

Same day. 19:10

So, tomorrow is Valentine's Day and I'm thinking of giving Itachi something. I'm not sure what I should give him, though. He lives on campus at Konoha University in a dorm with his big, blue haired bestie named Kisame.

And that big man is almost always out; at least that's what Itachi says. So maybe I should just leave a present on his bed with a little drawing of a cherry blossom on a post-it note. Or maybe my initials . . .

Nah, I like the cherry blossom. Those little art lessons with Sasori really helped my hand with a pen. More than I thought they would.

And not to mention those hip-hop classes with Deidara. But damn, that blondie can dance. I almost forget about my crush on Itachi when I see him gliding across the studio floor and pop to an electric beat with that little grin on his face.

Yeah, he looks hot in sweats. And usually he doesn't have a shirt on at all, and if he does it's just a very thin tank top that does nothing to cover his pecs. Dancing really makes good pecs.

But enough about Deidara, you should see Itachi shirtless. It doesn't help that I've seen him come out of the shower with nothing but a towel around his narrow hips more times than I can count. He always seems to think that it's a great idea to have a shower when Naruto and I are over at Sasuke's.

Hmm.

If I didn't know better, I'd say he was doing it deliberately, if that smirk he threw me over his shoulder was anything to go by whenever he caught me staring at the dimples at the bottom of his spine and his *holymotherfudgin'fiiiine* shoulder blades.

BUT! Too bad I do know better.

Once, I accidentally stumbled into his room while he was going through his closet for a new shirt, and he was wearing a dark blue shirt and a pair of faded jeans that hung low on his hips, showing just a sliver of his (hot damn) Calvin Kleins.

I distinctly remember standing stiff in his doorway, being unable to look away or fight down the blush rising up my neck and burning the tips of my ears. Itachi turned around slowly with a confused expression. And when he saw me, he bloody smiled.

SMILED! DAMMIT!

"Hello, Sakura. Sasuke is in the game room if you didn't know," he said, finally walking towards his bed with a white t-shirt in hand. And right before my eyes, his arms crossed over in front of him to grip the hem of his shirt, and then it was being pulled off his torso. I swear my jaw could have dropped to the floor.

And when the shirt was off, it was carelessly dropped to the floor. Itachi didn't seem to look at me again when he slipped his new crisp white shirt on.

That was when I turned and walked away so fast you could have mistook my harsh steps to be some type of march-jog.

Yeah.

And I promptly ran smack-dab into the gargoyle sculpture in the middle of the lobby. I've asked Mikoto about the thing, but she waved her hand dismissively with a scowl and said, "It was here before I became an Uchiha. I tried to replace it, but it was apparently important."

I don't get how a gargoyle can be important to Uchihas. But then again, I don't really know all too much about their looooong history, which dates right back to before Benjamin Franklin flew a flippin' kite in the air while there was flippin' thunder in the flippin' sky.

Dafuq is up with that man?

Anyway, lil ol' me has Itachi's present in mind now. Hehe.

Toodles.

AN/ Ah! The very first chapter of 'Journal', done and dusted.

It's very long . . . too long. None of the other chapters are gonna be this long, sorry to say.

Glad to have that out of the way.

Until next time, dear readers . . .

Lots of love and Calvin Klein-wearing Itachis (Lol)

~Om