Once again, Shiori had secluded herself in her room. The only other person she would see was Fudo who brought in her meals and even then she was too far gone inside her head to talk to him. A couple of days later, Kisame barged in and greeted her with a gruff "Hey".
"..."
"Wipe that mopey look on your face and take a shower. You look like you could use one. Be ready in a hour."
She was all set earlier than that and met the former Kirigakure swordsman at the entrance of the headquarters. It was situated at the bottom of the two-hundred-step staircase on the northern part of what had once been the monks' temple. Anticipating a long trip towards another reading mission, she had brought with her her travelling knapsack.
"Oh good. You're early for once," Kisame said, grinning. Her only reply was another forlorn look. With a sigh, he signaled at her to start moving.
"Right. Just in case you're wondering, we'll be meeting with Sasori-san and Deidara-san in Yugakure. You'll get the details of your task once we get there."
"Just us?" As far as she knew, the Akatsuki always worked in tandems.
"It's not far from here so I should be back before noon time," he replied. There was a long pause before he added, "I'll tell Itachi-san you missed him though."
"I do not." He could drop dead for all she cared.
"Hey." Kisame kept looking at her until she met his gaze. "I heard about your little tantrum. It probably wouldn't look like it for you but he saved your life that day. If he hadn't been there we wouldn't be talking right now. Men like Hidan do not need much provocation to kill someone."
'So I've been told,' she thought wryly.
Shiori remained quiet and thought about what he said. It was true that the Uchiha prodigy was the reason she was still alive but she had learned not to assume that he did it for her sake. Itachi's final words to her still rang clear in her mind.
"I decide if and when you're no longer useful to the organization."
The way she saw it, he was saving her for a fate much worse than instant death. That did not sound like something to be thankful about.
Deidara and Sasori barely gave her a second glance after Kisame delivered her to their doorstep. As soon as the swordsman left, Deidara went back to his clay sculpture while Sasori continued fiddling with the limb of his puppet. Shiori was unsure of what to do and awkwardly stood on her spot for a couple of minutes.
"Don't just stand there. We have tea and sake in the kitchen. Help yourself," Sasori drawled. His eyes never left the task in front of him.
"Sake?" she repeated, unsure if she heard it right.
Deidara grinned at her. "Consider it my treat for giving hell to that bastard Itachi, hn."
Shiori lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little too young to purchase sake? Legally?"
Sasori mentioned once that the blonde bomber was the youngest member of the Akatsuki. Itachi had just turned eighteen, which meant that he couldn't be older than that.
"Legally. What does that even mean?" Deidara and Sasori exchanged pointed looks before chuckling among themselves. It made her feel silly for asking the question. Buying alcohol was probably the least illegal thing the young missing-nin did that week.
Despite their generous offer, Shiori declined both and instead stayed in one of the empty rooms reserved for assets like her. The bright, sunny weather and the scent of sulphur wafting off of the many hot springs in the area did little to help with her low mood. Her life had become a vicious cycle of temporary normalcy and brutal acts of terrorism. She knew it was an irrational thought but she had become somewhat afraid of feeling happy. It seemed like every time she did, even for a little while, life would throw her a curveball that was so bad it knocked the breath out of her.
"When did I become so pathetic?" she murmured to herself.
"I've always thought you're pathetic, Hn."
Shiori felt her heart jump to her throat and sat up in surprise. Deidara was standing by the door, leaning casually against its frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Cute but pathetic," he added, taking in the alarmed look on her face.
"Deidara-san. I didn't hear you knock."
The blonde shrugged. "I didn't. The door was already opened."
Taking this as her cue to go, Shiori pulled herself out of her lumpy futon. "Alright. Where to?"
Deidara and Sasori discussed the new assignment with her over a bottle of sake. It sounded relatively simple compared to the previous ones she had been involved with. They were to retrieve an heirloom dagger owned by one of the royal families of Ishigakure, the Village Hidden in Stones.
Sasori went further into their target's details. "Probably the only person in the world who knows its current location is the one who stole it. Jiro Moto, the kleptomaniac ruffian from the higher echelons of Hot Water."
"Geez. If he's already rich then why would he steal an ancient dagger?" Shiori wondered. She waved her hand to refuse the fourth sake shot Deidara had offered to her.
"Just 'cause he can. For the thrill of it. Maybe the rumors are true and he really is a klepto. Hn! Who knows?" Deidara replied, downing the shot that Shiori refused.
Sasori continued, "He's extremely wealthy and extremely paranoid with a good reason to be. Shinobi from many hidden villages are after him because of his penchant for taking things that aren't his. As such he is frequently holed up in his fortress of a mansion protected by at least three-hundred men on a daily basis. An unidentified number of them are skilled at ninjutsu."
"Okay I get it," Shiori commented. "The usual route of abduct and kiss won't work this time."
"No but not for the reason that you think," the puppeteer replied, tilting his head back for a shot of sake.
"Three hundred men is nothing, Hn!" Deidara scoffed. "Even with them in the picture, I have my bombs and my man Sasori has his puppets. Getting to him is not a problem, Hn."
"Then what is?"
Sasori replied, "Moto has close ties with the daimyo and his royal advisers. And they are some of Akatsuki's highest-paying customers so maintaining our business relations with them is a must. Special orders. In short, Moto must remain alive and oblivious to the fact that we have made a move against him."
Deidara was bouncing on his seat like a child. His face was starting to turn red from the alcohol. "He's getting to the good part."
Even Shiori was curious. "Which is?"
"Every fortnight he hosts a party in his place for the richest bastards in this country. For these occasions, he always rents all of the women from a nearby brothel for the entire night. That, Shio-chan, is where you come in."
Gray eyes narrowed at the red-headed shinobi. "You want me to dress up as a whore, sneak in and kiss him."
Deidara banged his fists on the table. "Ding ding ding ding! Correct!" he exclaimed.
"One of us will be with you to act as your main customer," Sasori added, giving the younger shinobi a slightly disgusted look. "And also to make sure that we keep this one away from the alcohol for the duration of the mission."
Shiori's gaze went back and forth between Deidara and Sasori, unable to shake off the disbelief of what she just heard.
"I guess there's some truth about what they say. The artsy ones are often insane."
Deidara slammed his shotglass on the table. "Oi. Don't act like you have a choice in this. I'll drag you in that mansion by the hair if I have to, Hn!"
Sasori rolled his eyes in annoyance. "For crying out loud."
Shiori held her hands up to calm the drunk teenager down. "No need to resort to that."
"So you agree with us, hn?" The blonde slurred, a silly grin plastered on his face. "The plan...is ingenious."
Shiori smiled for the first time in days. "It will be once I get my makeup and yukata ready."
With that, she took a full shotglass from the table and downed its contents in one long gulp.
Kisame was more than annoyed at him. Itachi could tell. His partner had flat out refused when Sasori asked them to go through the store rooms and deliver two yukatas to their headquarters in Yugakure for a mission.
"I didn't join the Akatsuki to be some bastard's lackey," he had spat out with indignation. And he had expected Itachi to agree with him. A string of profanities erupted from his lips when the younger shinobi did as he was told and rummaged through the dusty boxes of old supplies. A few hours and many kilometers later, Kisame was still incensed.
Itachi sighed. "It's two yukatas," he said for the umpteenth time. "It's not heavy at all and the Yugakure headquarters is right on the way to the Land of Fire." It was the location for their next mission.
"That's not the point," Kisame shot back. "You shouldn't let other members boss us around, even if its the old geezer Sasori." A thought entered his mind and it was like a lightbulb lit up above his head. "Teenagers. If you wanted to see Shio-chan, all you had to do was ask."
Itachi gave him a lazy sideway glance and smirked. "Hn." He knew better than to react to that.
Kisame was only joking. And both of them knew that was all there was to it. But he was right about one thing. He wanted to speak with her. Things between them had been ugly during their last encounter. And while Fudo had been giving him updates on his ward, he wanted to see her personally and deal with the rift between the two of them once and for all. He was hoping the simple retrieval assignment with Deidara and Sasori would help. After the Fu fiasco, he had been relieved when he found out that the next task for his sullen ward only involved a missing object. Nothing in the contract read or implied assassinations. Shiori could use the break.
That relief was short-lived.
When they reached the headquarters, he had made the mistake of asking what the yukatas were for. Sasori replied with a rather detailed report of their plan. Itachi's ears rang loudly. He bristled on the spot.
Shiori infiltrating a target's home? And dressed as a harlot while at it? No.
Itachi breathed out of his mouth and counted to three before speaking. "That's too dangerous. She isn't trained for infiltration. She wouldn't know what to do."
"Sure she does," Deidara replied with an angry glare. "We've agreed on a plan. We've gone through it many times. She's ready."
"That's my ward you're putting in danger, my inexperienced ward who couldn't even hold a kunai properly. I won't let her proceed with it."
"For fuck's sake, Uchiha!" Deidara exclaimed, hopping off the windowsill he was perched on. "You really think you're the only one smart enough to come up with a plan? Well screw you, hn! This is an authorized mission. Everyone is obliged to participate in an authorized mission, hn."
By the time Deidara had finished with his rant, him and Itachi were standing nose to nose. Both had their fists curled up, ready for a fight. Itachi's face however remained relaxed and stoic. He turned to Sasori who was the more composed shinobi of the two.
"There has to be another way." It took a bit of effort to mask the desperation in his voice. Something about the mission didn't sit well with him. And if he couldn't guarantee its success, the last thing he wanted was for Shiori to be caught in the midst of it all when it fell apart.
"Deidara that's enough," Sasori said in a clipped voice before turning to Itachi. "There are other ways, Itachi-san. But this plan we're pursuing is the most cost-effective one. Pain-sama had specific orders to keep good relations with our customers. The way I see it, if things do head south it's better that we lose your asset. We can always find someone to replace her. High-paying patrons are harder to come by."
Itachi matched Sasori's steady gaze with his own. There was a long pause between the two of them. And when the former was sure that the latter had no suspicions towards him, he replied, "Understood. I agree."
His tongue felt heavy from the lie.
When Shiori had agreed with the plan, she had treated it as a joke. She may be able to pass as a prostitute but she wasn't sure if she could convince them she was a high class one. Trauma had made her look horrendous, with uneven skintone and dark circles under her eyes. The blackeye she received from being thrown against the wall by Itachi was fading but it was still visible. If she couldn't get her hands on the right makeup product, she might as well give up.
Then there was the issue of what to wear. Never had she thought that she would encounter the need for a formal attire during the time she had spent in captivity with the Akatsuki. Deidara and Sasori both volunteered to pick a yukata for her in the local shop. Them being men, her expectations were severely low. Imagine her surprise when the two came back with not only more makeup than she knew what to do with but also with the most beautiful yukata she had laid her eyes on.
"We're artists, Shio-chan," Deidara huffed when he saw the look of surprise on her face. "Give us some credit."
And she did. The garment they had picked for her was made of white silk with trimmings the shape and color of the cherry blossoms in Shimogakure. The entire yukata was also dotted with patterns of the delicate flower, more spread apart at the top and gradually becoming denser the lower they were situated in the fabric. Its hem was flooded with the blossoms. Every fluid movement of the fabric caused the flowers to ripple, reminding her of Shimo's Yozakura River in spring when it turned pink from all the cherry blossoms that fell on it.
Although the party was two nights away, the little girl in her couldn't wait to play dress up. She fixed her long hair up in a bun and secured it with a pair of bejeweled hairsticks. Then she proceeded to try on her classy outfit. It took her a few tries to get the obi done right. The second that she did had been a proud moment. Even without an audience, she twirled in place the way her bestfriend Miyako did every time she was trying to show off a new dress. Her little performance was cut off by a knock on the door. Shiori reckoned it was Deidara getting back at her to say "I told you so". Grinning from ear to ear, she hopped towards the door.
"I concede Deidara-san. You're a genius-"
The person on the other side of the door wasn't Deidara. And he most definitely wasn't blonde.
Itachi had been absentmindedly staring at the end of the hallway with his hands shoved in his pockets when the door opened, revealing Shiori in a way he hadn't seen her before. He couldn't help but do a double take. For a moment all they could do was stare at each other.
"I-Itachi-san," she stammered, eyes dulling down as she mentally built a wall around herself. The shinobi's gaze lingered on the bruise on her right eye before he spoke up.
"May I come in?"
She stepped aside to let him pass but left the door wide open. Being in the same room with him suddenly made her feel extremely claustrophobic.
He stood at the center of the room. "Sasori told me about the plan to get to Jiro Moto." He turned to her direction and lifted his gaze towards her. "I guess what they said was true. You agreed to go in."
Shiori nodded in response. She doubted she had the option to refuse to begin with.
"Hn. Moto is an unpredictable man. He prefers to hit first and ask questions later. Be careful of him."
She bowed. "Yes."
"And don't be caught in a room with him alone. Always stand by a window. Lure him there so Deidara can keep an eye on you. Those hairsticks have more use than what their name suggests. Remember that. And if you think you're in danger you run. Fast."
"Understood."
She had kept her eyes trained on her feet until she felt him step closer in front of her. She caught a whiff of his familiar scent sending her stomach into a frenzy. Very slowly, she looked up until her gaze reached his collarbone. She felt herself breaking into a cold sweat. Just the act of him stepping closer had her shaking and it terrified her. After what happened on her last assignment, the last thing she wanted to be in front of Uchiha Itachi was vulnerable. No one had been more capable of hurting her so much by doing so little.
"Shiori-san. Look at me."
So she did. And rather than the look of cold indifference she had seen him wear the last time they talked, she thought she could see something else there. Doubt. Apprehension. Maybe even concern. His eyebrows were furrowed with it. It was then when she realized that that boy was back, the boy who cracked jokes, the boy who offered to walk her to her room, the boy she very nearly found herself falling for only a week ago.
The boy who disappeared when they were in front of other people.
"Do you think you can handle it?" he asked.
'Say no,' he urged her in his mind. 'Tell me you can't do it.' He needed a good reason to get her out of this mess and it needed to come from her.
Shiori's hands curled into fists. After a deep breath she met his gaze with a cold glare of her own.
"Tools don't think, Itachi-san. They act however their owners wield them."
His eyebrows smoothed out. Itachi's face went blank. Then a wicked half-smile graced his handsome features.
"That's right. You're learning."
The two stared each other down before Itachi decided that it was time to go. He bowed at her in farewell and made his way out of the door. He was halfway out when he paused. "I'll see you in a few days?"
It sounded more like a question than an instruction. Shiori concluded that he must have been referring to the report she had to do after the assignment.
"I'll tell you everything then."
"You better."
She didn't have time to decipher what he meant. In a blink of an eye, he rounded into the corner and disappeared.
Author's Notes: First off, thank you very much for the reviews for the previous chapters. You guys have no idea what your revs mean to us writers. All the more because you guys are being more vocal about how you like it and why. We don't just read your thoughts to boost our ego (though it certainly does the trick), we also do it to make our pieces better so the more input from you the more clued-in we are. Hope you like this one as well. And please, don't stop reviewing. Keep them coming. I'll try to reply as much as possible. See ya.