Stage Seven: Kisses and Lies

That evening, I was sitting in the "lounge", my term for the center area full of sofas and chairs and not much else. I had my book in hand, watching the people come and go. Sasori was spread out on the floor with a puppet he was building. He didn't look at me, he just resumed screwing, nailing, and gluing pieces into place. His work was rhythmical, hypnotizing almost. I watched him.

"Is there a problem?" he asked me, not even looking up.

"No, I'm just watching."

"Is there a reason?" he asked.

"I've never seen someone so intent in their work."

"Each puppet is a work of art. What good is art if it doesn't last?" he asked me.

"Especially if your life depends on the quality of your art," I answered.

"I'm already dead," he informed me, "but you have the idea."

He went back to silently working, testing the joints with his chakura. The room filled with a faint blue light as strings of energy brought the half completed marionette to life. The puppet stood up, looked at me, then fell to the floor. Sasori evaluated the puppet, tweaked one of the metal pins, then tried again. The puppet stood, walked to me, sat beside me on the couch, then slid off and returned to his master.

"Kankuro's aren't as smooth as yours," I commented.

"He hasn't had the time to perfect his as I have. Besides, he doesn't have the patience to learn. He's a child, and childish when it comes to his little dolls."

"It's strange to hear a puppet master call puppets dolls."

"I will never call my puppets dolls."

"Just other people's?" I asked, confused.

"Only people who make a mockery of puppetry," he answered. "Kankuro happens to be one of those people."

"He's the only other puppet master I know of," I told him.

"My parents were masters, but they were killed," he told me. "My grandmother still is a master of puppetry, and was the one to teach me."

"That is the life of a Ninja," I told him. "Life is our biggest sacrifice. But it is also our duty to pass down what we know to the next generation."

"Unless you can conquer death. Then you can teach countless," he answered. "Will you hand me that screw? It rolled over to you when Anjoku stood up."

I picked up the metal fixing and tossed it to him, saying, "You named it Anjoku?"

"Yes, and I was hoping you would sit with me, instead of calling across the room. It would make things easier."

"You could have just asked me."

"I needed the screw," he shrugged.

I walked over his carnage of wood and tools carefully, not wanting to crush his project. I sat beside him, not in the way of anything he might need to use. "Alright, I'm here."

"Have you ever made a puppet?" he asked me.

"No, I haven't. I'm not a puppet master."

"I expected Kankuro to show you a few things about puppets, you seem to know him."

"I have hated Kankuro since I first met him."

"Because he is a puppet master?" Sasori asked.

"No, it's his ego, as you said, and he is childish too."

"Not because he's a puppet master?"

"I have nothing against puppets," I answered. "I just don't like people much."

"Technically, I'm a puppet."

I laughed. "I suppose." It was the first time I laughed in a while. Laughing is something I don't do unless it's halfheartedly or forced.

"You have a pretty laugh," he told me. "Suna must have missed you when you left."

"What?" I asked. The smile left my face.

"Your laugh could make even the desert turn into an oasis. I remember a kid who was very close to you. Was he sad when you disappeared?"

"I don't remember," I said.

"I can hear the sadness in your voice. If I were to go through the same things you did, I wouldn't remember my past either. It's not uncommon for someone to block out events that are traumatic."

"That's a better explanation than what Itachi gave me," I answered. "He thinks Orochimaru covered my memories."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Sasori answered. "He has always had a twisted mind."

"You knew him personally?" I asked.

"He used to be my partner."

"Oh," I answered. I knew Orochimaru was in the Akatsuki before I was brought to him by Kabuto, but I didn't know the full story. "So Kabuto was your spy?" I asked.

"Yes, but the bastard disbanded my jutsu and turned the kid against me."

"Sounds like Orochimaru hasn't changed much over the years."

"Well, some good has come from him."

"Like what?" I asked. "He's a heartless, relentless bastard."

"He isn't the good I'm talking about," Sasori said as he nailed the arm into the left socket. "The good is sitting next to me, agreeing that he is a bastard."

I looked at Sasori strangely.

"What?" he asked. "It's a compliment."

"Thanks," I said, distant. "I've never taken well to being complimented."

"I can understand that, you're a modest person."

"Not a modest person, I just don't like being complimented. It's never settled well with me. I don't know why."

"Well, I'm not sorry. I meant it and I'm not going back on that."

I stopped and thought. I was expecting an apology. "I respect you for that. Apologizing is a form of weakness."

"Don't take back what you said, because at the time, you must have meant it if it was important enough to say in the first place," he explained. "I like how you think too, but now I'm just pushing it."

"You are, but I respect you for realizing the strength of backing your words instead of changing them." I picked up a finger and looked at it.

He took the finger out of my hands, lingering on my skin. Instead of feeling like polished wood, he felt like a person should. "Then thank you."

"Your details are exquisite."

He looked into my eyes, which reflected in his amber irises. "I'm just good with my hands," he whispered. His had was still on mine, holding the wood between our palms. He leaned toward me and closed his eyes. He pressed his lips on mine lightly, softly, then pulled away. His eyelids lifted slightly. "I'm not sorry for that, either."

He took the wooden piece from me, brushed the line of my jaw with his finger, then returned to placing the finger on the hand of the puppet.

I put my hand on his shoulder as he worked. He looked back at me, surprised. "I don't want you to be," I softly spoke.

He took my hand in his, traced his fingers along the ridges, and answered, "I wouldn't be sorry if you wanted me to. You've been secluded for a long time, years, in fact. Perhaps it is time for you to learn you don't have to be."

"Get your hands off her," Itachi growled.

Sasori looked up at him without concern. "And if I don't?" he asked. "Are you going to stop me?" He smirked. He turned back to me. He let go of my hand and kissed me, right in front of Itachi.

There was pressure at my shoulder. "Tsuki, go back to my room, now," he demanded. "If I have to show everyone that you're mine, I will."

There was a glare in his eye and a tone in his voice that forced me to comply. I wanted to tell him that I belonged to no one. I was afraid of him, and I didn't know why. He seemed different from my new found memory. I was afraid of him, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I slid the door behind me and entered the candle lit room, only to have it slide open again. "What were you thinking?" he growled. "What thought crossed your mind to make you want Sasori?"

"What makes you think you can dictate me?" I asked in reply.

He closed the space between us, backing me to the wall. "I told you, if you go back on my protection, they will eat you alive."

"You're not protecting me from anything. I'm in the Akatsuki. I'm beyond protection."

"You are not beyond my protection."

"Prove it," I spat.

"I would do anything to protect you."

"Why? Why am I so important to you, when you were so willing to throw your family away?" I asked. "What can you do? Why?"

"You have so many questions. If you really want to know why, I'll tell you. I care so damn badly because you have a future for yourself. You aren't corrupt, or you weren't when I knew you. You gave me a purpose, until you disappeared. You came back to me, and that has to mean something, and I'm going to use it to my advantage. Orochimaru did some irreversible damage, but there's hope."

"Hope for what?" I asked.

"You," he answered. "You're not going to be Orochimaru's slave forever."

"You're right, I'm not. I ended that a while ago. Stop telling me what I already know. How do you plan on protecting me?" I repeated.

He looked down into my eyes. "The same way Sasori planned to take you from me," he answered. "You looked shocked to know that's all he wanted."

"Not by much. Honestly, I don't give a damn."

"So, if he were to take full advantage of you just to piss me off, you won't care?"

"Do you honestly think I would let him get that far? I had my plans for him, and I would stop him before he got too far. I can fend for myself."

Not it was his turn to look startled. "What plans?"

"You and Kisame are the only two here I can rely on. Being taught by Orochimaru, do you think that's good enough?" I asked. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all you're trying to do for me, but I need eyes and ears everywhere here. I don't know what Pein has in store for me, but one of these bastards do."

"You're as sly as the snake himself. You were using him all along."

"I'm using everyone here," I answered, "Even Hidan."

"How are you using Hidan?" he asked.

"Having someone who wants nothing more than to see you dead can be resourceful," I answered. "He's going to use every speck of dirt he has to piss me off into a fight. All I have to do is remain calm while he calls me out."

"Clever," he commented. "That doesn't deter me from protecting you."

"Every great konoichi is flexible." I put my hand on his chest. "If that means I have to be your 'lover'," I air quoted, "then so be it."

He put his arms around me. "As long as I know you're safe."

"I'll never be safe," I told him, "but I trust you almost as I would my brother."

"You have to trust me more than a brother, Tsuki. You have to trust me as a lover."

I stood on point to kiss his cheek. "Or at least act as I do."

He pulled me closer to him, passionately kissing my full on my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me and closed my eyes. No space remained between us. I felt his fingers lace through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. His body heat warmed me, comforted me. I could smell him. He smelt spicy, yet sweet. It was familiar, and delicious. It wasn't long before he broke away from me.

"No," I whispered, clutching his cloak. I felt happy when he kissed me.

"No?" he softly repeated. He leaned back down to me, kissing me once more. The warmth returned to me as he held me to his chest, lips on mine. I wanted more. I wanted fire from him. I wanted to feel his wrath.

The door slid open behind us and Itachi broke away from me. "Damn, Sasori must have really pissed you off," Kisame laughed. He directed the next one to me. "You're just a little sl-"

Itachi came at him with a Katana, "I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you," he growled.

"Woah," Kisame sighed, "There's more to this, isn't there."

"There is nothing more than disrespect for her, and she is mine. You slander her, you slander me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Itachi." He then looked back at me. "You don't know how lucky you are." He returned out the door, slamming it shut.

"So this is what protecting me entails," I commented. "You'd go against your comrades for me?" I folded my arms as he walked back to me.

"I can't kiss my comrades," was his answer. "I can keep my comrades from kissing you," he added.

"I'm not just your property," I informed him.

"No, but you are my girl." He took me in his arms again. "What kind of person would I be if I allowed everyone to treat you like a harlot?" he asked. He kissed me lightly again.

I rested my head on his chest. "Thanks," I whispered. "No one has stood up for me before you."

He buried his face in my hair and whispered in my ear, "No one has ever cared about you like I do, like I always have."

I wrapped my arms around his waist. "I could have died without you."

He kissed my hair. "I have no doubt you would have proven to the world you were strong enough to survive anything thrown your way." He lifted my chin and kissed me once more. "You have the drive to back it up."

"You remember a lot about me, don't you?"

"I can say I remember almost everything. You used to sleep in fits," he smiled. "You could never spend a night without me beside you." He backed me to the bed. "I wonder if it's still like that."

"I don't sleep anymore," I told him. "If I do, I destroy everything."

"Glass shatters, wood splinters, and it all is thrown in every direction from you, as if sent by a shock wave," he finished. "I know."

"I'm not sure I am willing to take that chance," I warned.

"I am," he answered. He sat down beside me. "Just for you." He removed his cloak and relaxed against the pillow. He pulled me to his chest. He pulled a few hand-signs from behind my back, filling the room with a gentle gust of wind to extinguish the candles' flame. The only light that fell on his face was that of the moon, which only sharpened the lines beneath his eyes. It was beautiful and heartbreaking.

If I thought I was in love with Orochimaru, no words could describe the state I was in over Itachi, and I have only known him for a handful of days. How could this man, one memory, a promise, and the lure of a peaceful night's sleep change me so greatly without my consent? He couldn't. My heart was pulling the wool over my eyes. My memory was giving me false hopes to dwell on that, if not stopped, would be my downfall.

I left a kiss on his lips before he fell asleep, his soft breathing lulling me into the dangers of darkness.