Chapter Two

15 February, Wednesday. 20:29

Dear Journal,

Yesterday, a lot of things happened. Right now I'm sitting on the floor of my bedroom, writing in you while I really should be rolling my socks together in matching pairs. Damn, my sock drawer is hell in the form of socks.

Anyway, yesterday, my day started as it usually does:

Alarm clock rings.

I groan.

I put covers over my head to block out sound.

"Whee oo whee oo whee oo whee oo!" Goes the alarm clock.

"Nah . . . nahhh . . . *tosses in bed* noooo pluh fuck I hate youuu!" Goes the Sakura.

"Whee oo whee oo whee oo whee oo!" Goes the alarm clock.

"That's it! SHANNARO!" Goes the Sakura

Alarm clock: Dead.

Sakura: Happy.

Morning Type: The usual.

Everyone happy. Yay. Well, except the alarm clock. Meh, I'll just get a new one. I always do. I left the house with my gift in my bag; I would just drop it off to Itachi's dormitory after school ended.

School was strange. Kiba and Kankuro threw perverted jokes my way. Temari hit Kankuro over the head, Hinata fainted when Naruto reached over to touch her face, checking for a fever, and of course, Sasuke was his normal brooding self.

We can't really forget about brooding Sasuke, now, can we? *wink*

Ha-ha.

After school, I walked a few blocks down from Konoha High to reach Konoha University. It was only just a ten-to-fifteen minute walk, so the fudging heavy bag on my shoulders wasn't as painful as it normally is. It was . . . bearable. Seriously, try getting through eleventh grade without having to cram textbook after textbook into some type of poor, worn out bag that you've had since the beginning of eighth grade.

I have gone through it and I'm telling you that it is close to 99.9% impossible. Seriously, I have tried everything I could to finish a bit of my homework in my free-time in class so my bag won't feel like someone thought it was a great idea to shove cinder blocks down a four-year-old bag belonging to a seventeen year old pink-haired girl.

I wonder who still does that these days.

*thought-full expression*

Once I reached the front door of the Konoha University males' dorm building, I stood by the front door unsure of what to do. I thought about ringing the doorbell, but then realised that the front door had none.

I knocked on the door as loudly as I could three times. The sharp raps seemed to bounce right off the hallway behind that door and make its way back to me, because no one showed up when I waited for a full five minutes.

After the bottom corner of my lower lip was nice and red from my teeth nipping the skin away, I decided to check if the door was open.

I turned the gold knob very slowly, waiting to confirm my suspicions when I heard the double click, telling me the door was locked.

But, holy hallelujahs, the door swung open breezier and faster that Chris Brown's feet across a stage. I don't know why I compared Chris Brown's feet to this wooden door . . . his feet are probably worth ten hundred times the cost of this door in front of me.

That was a funny thought, because it planted images of me chopping off Chris Brown's feet with a maniacal grin and wild mussed hair and crooked yellow teeth. That poor (psh, as if he's poor . . .) man was feet-less while I threw my head back and cackled with delight, later dangling his feet still in their sneaker's by their crisp white laces.

But hey, that's just me selling an international celebrity's feet in a black market for extra cash.

Enough about his feet, though, more about the matter at hand.

God . . . I really need to match up my socks.

Ugh, later.

I entered the hallway, eyes wandering around to the massive paintings lining the walls and the grand chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I wondered about how they could buy all these unnecessary things for decoration instead of a simple, measly doorbell.

Well, that's rich people for you.

Wait, aren't we insulting Sasuke when we say that. And worse… Itachi?

Ah . . .

I flipped open the leather cover of my phone and called Sasuke. He picked up on the second ring with a quiet "What now?"

I ignored his rudeness, because it was a default sort of thing for any Uchiha apart from Itachi.

"Where's Itachi?" I asked him impatiently while climbing a random set of stairs. The railing was sort of rough under my palm, and a thread of splintered wood dug into my skin. I hissed and stared at the small piece of wood hidden under my flesh.

"What happened?" came Sasuke's worried voice from over the phone.

"Ugh," I said, "Nothing, Sasuke. Just tell me where Itachi is."

I heard mumbling over the phone. "Yeah, yeah. He's in his dorm room. Why?"

I sighed. "Well shit." And then I ended the call. I reached the top of the stairs quickly and turned left, hoping it would lead me to room number 152.

146…

148…

150…

Aha! Room number 152.

I pressed myself against the front of the door and pressed my ear to the smoothly varnished wood, palm pressed on the door next to my cheek.

There was shuffling in the room, and then footsteps. I quickly straightened myself and knocked on Itachi's door.

It only took about a minute for the door to swing open and reveal a perfectly elegant looking Itachi. Glasses and all.

#ADORABLE!

Keep quiet you!

Jeez uz, keep ya pants on . . .

"-lo Sakura," I heard Itachi say. I don't recall what he said, or his full sentence, but it was something like that.

"Huh?" my head snapped up. And then a smile broke out on my face. "Right, right. Um, sorry. I . . . uh . . . wanted to give you a little something," I said shyly, looking down at the floor so my side bangs brushed across my pink cheeks.

I peeked up at Itachi from under my eyelashes and saw him raise an eyebrow.

I stood to my full height once more and shoved my present in his hand, my still bandaged hand from a few days ago brushing against his.

My present was wrapped in plain pale red wrapping paper with a white strip of ribbon criss-crossed over the top to fall into a tightly tied bow. Inside was a necklace I had made for this special occasion.

Itachi smiled at me as I muttered, "Happy Valentine's Day . . ."

He took the present and unwrapped it easily, pulling at the folded ends of wrapping paper so the tape came off without tearing anything. He untied he bow at the top when he was done and the wrapping paper fell away to cover his palm that held the small box.

He lifted the lid of the black box to reveal my gift to him. It was a rectangular crystal stone with silver rimming the edges. Inside the transparent crystal you could see the gorgeous engraving in silver of his name. The necklace was laid in a pillow of soft black velvet.

Itachi's eyebrows rose just a bit.

"Custom-made?" he asked quietly, lifting his eyes to look at me.

I blushed and nodded slowly. "I know it's not as great as other expensive gifts from rich and special girls and stuff, but it's what I have. And I hope it's only bit, if not completely, satisfying," I said hesitantly.

Itachi smiled and placed the lid back onto the box. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He reached over and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, bringing my body loosely to his, my cheek pressed against his chest.

I didn't have enough time to muffle the squeak that made its way out my lips. Itachi chuckled and ruffled my hair lightly, pulling away too soon for my liking.

"Thank you, Sakura. It's very nice," he said softly.

Well, honk my horn-bells, Itachi liked it.

And then I was leaving, saying "Goodbye" so quietly I doubt I heard it myself.

I practically leaped down the stairs in a bouncing ball of giddiness. Maybe it meant something? Maybe he appreciates me more than a friend? Maybe he likes me?

Just the thought makes me melt in a puddle of fangirl-soda.

And so, please excuse me as I can go and do the wondrous job of rolling up my socks.

Goodnight.

18 March, Saturday. 16:52

"Do you know how lucky you are?" Ino asked one fine Saturday afternoon while filing her nails, laying carelessly on my couch wearing a mini-skirt and denim shirt knotted above her navel. Her six inch silver stilettos laid carelessly on my coffee table.

It was raining outside, and I loved it to hell and back. Ino, on the other hand, decided it was an amazing excuse to invite herself and a few other people over to my big house for a movie and some popcorn. She thought it would be nice if I had some time with my 'girlfriends' once in a while.

Naruto, ever the blonde idiot, snickered at the word 'girlfriends', whispering to me, "Oh my, Sakura. You always accused me of swinging that way." And then he promptly burst into a fit of girlish giggles, causing me to roll my eyes and whack him over the head with a rolled up teen magazine.

Naruto ran around the house screaming, "I GOT HIT WITH PUBERTY!" Thus the teen magazine.

*giggle*

If only he used that brain of his for good. Damn.

Sasuke, when hearing this, emerged from the bathroom wearing only a pair of loose denim jeans. He scoffed and crossed his arms over his (holy fudging damn fiiiiine) chest. "Hn, it's about time, dobe."

Naruto tackled him to the ground, and you can probably guess how that looked . . .

An energetic Naruto on top of a shirtless Sasuke pinning his arms down. Not to mention that they're both damn good-looking.

*giggle and wink*

#Inner YAOI LUVR!

For once… I SECOND THAT STATEMENT!

I'm crazy.

I cleared my throat quite loudly, causing them both to stop struggling and stare at me. "I'm sorry," I said, checking me nails, "But could you take your . . . intercourse to somewhere more private?"

Cue a Naruto and Sasuke springing away from each other like fire, please.

*maniacal laughter*

Anywhosen, back to Ino!

A lot of people went back to her once she dumped them like a sack of rotten potatoes, so what's the difference if I do too?

Please do excuse me while I take a trip to a psychologist.

I gotta get these things of mah (motherfudging flat) chest.

Hidan the pervert: Is it your bra, babe? *wink*

Me: Shut up! *blush*

"Exactly how many girls did you invite?" I asked her.

She hummed in thought while staring at the celling. "Oh my, did I say a girl's night? Sorry, I meant a friends night. Both sexes." With that being said, she went back to filing her already perfect nails.

Ugh.

That meant . . .

She definitely invited dem annoying boys. Damn you Ino. Damn you.

Same day. 21:33

"WELCOME TO MY HOUSE!"

"BABY TAKE CONTROL NOW!"

"WE CAN'T EVEN SLOW DOWN!"

"WE DON'T HAVE TO GO-O-O OUT!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAAA! WHOO!"

"I WILL CASTRATE ALL OF YOU!" I screamed from the bathroom.

Well, what would you do if you had four drunk Uchihas (one underage, mind you) and one Senju jumping around your room and on your bed and spilling whiskey and vodka and other disgusting things on your perfectly clean carpet?

Doesn't help that they're all hot.

Senju Hashirama, a tall, handsome male with long brown hair and sparkly eyes was busy running around the room with my bed sheets tied around his neck as a makeshift cape, flying behind him as he ran, yelling "Do not fear! Hashi-Man is here!"

Uchiha Madara, Sasuke and Itachi's hot and young uncle with a wild mass of spiky raven locks for hair, was rolling around on the floor, laughing and pointing at his younger cousin, Obito, while holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Uchiha Obito, also one of Sasuke and Itachi's hot and young uncles, was singing Flo Rida songs along with Sasuke, who really should not be drinking at this age. And Itachi, my darling, darling Itachi, was busy throwing up in the bathroom, gripping the toilet seat as I held up his silky hair.

Madara's younger brother, Uchiha Izuna, and Hashirama's younger brother, Tobirama, were sitting on the edge of my bathtub, holding a towel and a glass of water for when Itachi was done.

I looked over to them and smiled. "Thank you, honestly," I said, and I swear I saw Tobirama turn a bit pink while he nodded, and Izuna grinned at me, saying "No problem, Sak!"

It was all going fine until Madara came into the bathroom, suddenly shirtless and only in his red boxer shorts. He seemed to have abandoned his whiskey for a very familiar . . . looking . . . pink lace . . . bra . . .

He came up behind me while Tobirama turned red, eyeing the bra wearily and my face matched the colour of the lace. Madara snaked and arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest, and I dropped Itachi's long silky hair with a squeak as he looked up dazedly at me as Madara's nose nuzzled my neck.

"You have exquisite taste in lingerie, dear. How I would love to see you in my r - oomph!" he was cut off when I elbowed him in the gut, my face flushing scarlet. Izuna groaned in dismay and dragged Madara out the bathroom by his feet.

He had dropped my bra on the way out, and I quickly snatched it up, ignoring Itachi's raised eyebrow and amused grin and Tobirama's hyperventilating.

Wait, why was he hyperventilating?

Right now, I'm in my room, hiding in a corner as Madara, Obito, Sasuke and Hashirama are asleep on top of each other on my bed. Itachi's other best-friends and older cousin, Shisui the flirt, would have come too had he not had a date with his on-again off-again girlfriend Hana, who was actually Kiba's older sister.

Tenten, Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Kiba, Shikamaru and Gaara, who was busy playing poker in the living room during the bra-fiasco, are in the room, too, and – oh look – they're calling me over for a game of charades.

Hold on . . .

There, I just shouted at them that I went through enough for the night, and that I'm going off to the backyard patio for some fresh air.

I'm tired right now, so I'll be off to the outside world now.

Goodbye.

AN/ So! Second chapter is done and dusted.

It's strange, I know, but bear with me, please.

Until next time

Lots of love and lacy pink bras (lol ;-P)

~Om

PS: REVIEW PWEEEEASE! Suggest suggest suggest, review review review. I GOTTA SLEEP AT NIGHT! REVIEWS ARE MY INSOMNIA PILLS OKAY?!

Love ya'll :)